Part 14

HOR. Heard every word, my lord. VORT. Plainly? HOR. Distinctly. The course I took was dangerous, but not failing, For I convey’d myself behind the hangings Even just before his entrance. VORT. ’Twas well ventur’d. HOR. I had such a woman’s first and second longing in me To hear[467] how she would bear her mock’d abuse After she was return’d to privacy, I could have fasted out an ember-week, And never thought of hunger, to have heard her: Then came your holy Lupus and Germanus— VORT. Two holy confessors. HOR. At whose first sight I could perceive her fall upon her breast, And cruelly afflict herself with sorrow, (I never heard a sigh till I heard hers); Who, after her confession, pitying her, Put her into a way of patience, Which now she holds, to keep it hid from you: There’s all the pleasure that I took in’t now; When I heard that, my pains was well remember’d. So, with applying comforts and relief, They’ve[468] brought it lower, to an easy grief; But yet the taste is not quite gone. VORT. Still fortune Sits bettering our inventions. HOR. Here she comes.

_Enter_ CASTIZA.

CAST. Yonder’s my lord; O, I’ll return again! Methinks I should not dare to look on him. [_Aside, and exit._ HOR. She’s gone again. VORT. It works the kindlier, sir: Go now and call her back. [_Exit_ HORSUS.] She winds herself Into the snare so prettily, ’tis a pleasure To set toils for her.

_Re-enter_ CASTIZA _and_ HORSUS.

CAST. He may read my shame Now in my blush. [_Aside._ VORT. Come, you’re so link’d to holiness, So taken[469] with contemplative desires, That the world has you, yet enjoys you not: You have been weeping too. CAST. Not I, my lord. VORT. Trust me, I fear you have: you’re much to blame To yield so much to passion[470] without cause. Is not some time enough for meditation? Must it lay title to your health and beauty, And draw them into time’s consumption too? ’Tis too exacting for a holy faculty.— My lord of Kent!—I prithee, wake him, captain; He reads himself asleep, sure. HOR. My lord! VORT. Nay, I’ll take away your book, and bestow’t here. [_Takes book from_ HENGIST. HENG. Your pardon, sir. VORT. [_giving book to_ CASTIZA] Lady, you that delight in virgins’ stories, And all chaste works, here’s excellent reading for you: Make of that book as made men do of favours, Which they grow sick to part from.—And now, my lord, You that have so conceitedly[471] gone beyond me, And made so large use of a slender gift, Which we ne’er minded,[472] I commend your thrift; And that your building may to all ages Carry the stamp and impress of your wit, It shall be call’d Thong-Castle.[473] HENG. How, my lord, Thong-Castle! there your grace quits me kindly. VORT. ’Tis fit art should be known by its right name; You that can spread my gift, I’ll spread your fame. HENG. I thank your grace for that. VORT. And, lovèd lord, So well we do accept your invitation, With all speed we’ll set forwards. HENG. Your honour loves me. [_Exeunt._

## ACT IV. SCENE I.

_A Public Way near_ HENGIST’s _Castle_.

_Enter_ SIMON _and all his brethren, a mace and sword before him, meeting_ VORTIGER, CASTIZA, HENGIST, ROXENA, HORSUS, _and two_ LADIES.

SIM. Lo,[474] I, the Mayor of Queenborough by name, With all my brethren, saving one that’s lame, Are come as fast as fiery mill-horse gallops To greet thy grace, thy queen, and her fair trollops. For reason of our coming do not look; It must be done, I find it i’ the town-book; And yet not I myself, I cannot[475] read; I keep a clerk to do those jobs for need. And now expect a rare conceit before Thong-Castle see thee.— Reach me the thing to give the king, the other too, I prithee.— Now here they be, for queen and thee; the gift all steel and leather, But the conceit of mickle weight, and here they come together: To shew two loves must join in one, our town presents by me This gilded scabbard to the queen, this dagger unto thee. [_Offers the scabbard and dagger._ VORT. Forbear your tedious and ridiculous duties; I hate them, as I do the riots[476] of your Inconstant rabble; I have felt your fits: Sheathe up your bounties with your iron wits. [_Exit with his train._ SIM. Look, sirs, is his back turn’d? ALL. It is, it is. SIM. Then bless the good earl of Kent, say I! I’ll have this dagger turn’d into a pie, And eaten up for anger, every bit on’t: And when this pie shall be cut up by some rare cunning pie-man, They shall full lamentably sing, Put up thy dagger, Simon. [_Exeunt._

## SCENE II.

_A Hall in_ HENGIST’s _Castle: a feast set out_.

_Enter_ VORTIGER, HENGIST, HORSUS, DEVONSHIRE, STAFFORD, CASTIZA, ROXENA, _two_ LADIES, GUARDS, _and_ ATENDANTS.

HENG. A welcome, mighty lord, may appear costlier, More full of toil and talk, shew and conceit; But one more stor’d with thankful love and truth I forbid all the sons of men to boast of. VORT. Why, here’s[477] a fabric that implies eternity; The building plain, but most substantial; Methinks it looks as if it mock’d all ruin, Saving that master-piece of consummation, The end of time, which must consume even ruin, And eat that into cinders. HENG. There’s no brass Would pass your praise, my lord; ’twould last beyond it, And shame our durablest metal. VORT. Horsus. HOR. My lord. VORT. This is the time I’ve[478] chosen; here’s a full meeting, And here will I disgrace her. HOR. ’Twill be sharp, my lord. VORT. O, ’twill be best. HOR. Why, here’s the earl her father. VORT. Ay, and the lord her uncle; that’s the height of’t;[479] Invited both on purpose, to rise sick, Full of shame’s surfeit. HOR. And that’s shrewd, byrlady:[480] It ever sticks close to the ribs of honour, Great men are never sound men after it; It leaves some ache or other in their names still, Which their posterity feels at every weather. VORT. Mark but the least presentment of occasion, As these times yield enough, and then mark me. HOR. My observance is all yours, you know’t, my lord.— What careful ways some take to abuse themselves! But as there be assurers of men’s goods ’Gainst storms or pirates, which give[481] adventurers courage, So such there must be to make up man’s theft, Or there would be no woman-venturer left. See, now they find their seats! what a false knot Of amity he ties about her arm, Which rage must part! In marriage ’tis no wonder, Knots knit with kisses oft are broke with thunder. Music? then I have done; I always learn [_Music._ To give my betters place. [_Aside, while the rest seat themselves._ VORT. Where’s captain Horsus? Sit, sit; we’ll have a health anon to all Good services. HOR. They are poor in these days; They’d rather have the carp[482] than the health. He hears me not, and most great men are deaf On that side. [_Aside._ VORT. My lord of Kent, I thank you for this welcome; It came unthought of, in the sweetest language That ever my soul relish’d. HENG. You are pleas’d, my lord, To raise my happiness for slight deservings, To shew what power’s in princes; not in us Aught worthy, ’tis in you that makes us thus. I’m[483] chiefly sad, my lord, your queen’s not merry. VORT. So honour bless me, he has found the way To my grief strangely. Is there no delight—— CAST. My lord, I wish not any, nor is’t needful; I am as I was ever. VORT. That’s not so. CAST. How? O, my fears! [_Aside._ VORT. When she writ maid, my lord, You knew her otherwise. DEVON. To speak but truth, I never knew her a great friend to mirth, Nor taken much with any one delight; Though there be many seemly and honourable To give content to ladies without taxing. VORT. My lord of Kent, this to thy full deserts, Which intimates thy higher flow to honour. [_Drinking._ HENG. Which, like a river, shall return in service To the great master-fountain. VORT. Where’s your lord? I miss’d him not till now,—Lady, and yours? No marvel then we were so out of the way Of all pleasant discourse; they are the keys Of human music; sure at their nativities Great nature sign’d a general patent to them To take up all the mirth in a whole kingdom. What’s their employment now? FIRST LADY. May it please your grace, We never are so far acquainted with them; Nothing we know but what they cannot keep; That’s even the fashion of them all, my lord. VORT. It seems ye’ve great thought in their constancies, And they in yours, you dare so trust each other. SECOND LADY. Hope well we do, my lord; we’ve[484] reason for it, Because they say brown men are honestest; But she’s a fool will swear for any colour. VORT. They would for yours. SECOND LADY. Truth, ’tis a doubtful question, And I’d be loath to put mine to’t, my lord. VORT. Faith, dare you swear for yourselves? that’s a plain question. SECOND LADY. My lord? VORT. You cannot deny that with honour; And since ’tis urg’d, I’ll put you to’t in troth. FIRST LADY. May it please your grace— VORT. ’Twould please me very well; And here’s a book, mine never goes without one; [_Taking book from_ CASTIZA. She’s an example to you all for purity: Come, swear (I’ve[485] sworn you shall) that you ne’er knew The will of any man besides your husband’s. SECOND LADY. I’ll swear, my lord, as far as my remembrance— VORT. How! your remembrance? that were strange. FIRST LADY. Your grace Hearing our just excuse, will not say so. VORT. Well, what’s your just excuse? you’re ne’er without some. FIRST LADY. I’m[486] often taken with a sleep, my lord, The loudest thunder cannot waken me, Not if a cannon’s burthen be discharg’d Close by my ear; the more may be my wrong; There can be no infirmity, my lord, More excusable in any woman. SECOND LADY. And I’m[487] so troubled with the mother[488] too, I’ve[489] often call’d in help, I know not whom; Three at once have been too weak to keep me down. VORT. I perceive there’s no fastening. [_Aside._]—Well, fair one, then, That ne’er[490] deceives faith’s anchor of her hold, Come at all seasons; here, be thou the star To guide those erring women, shew the way Which I will make them follow. Why dost start, Draw back, and look so pale? CAST. My lord! VORT. Come hither; Nothing but take that oath; thou’lt take a thousand; A thousand! nay, a million, or as many As there be angels registers of oaths. Why, look thee, over-fearful chastity, (That sinn’st in nothing but in too much niceness,[491]) I’ll begin first and swear for thee myself: I know thee a perfection so unstain’d, So sure, so absolute, I will not pant on it, But catch time greedily. By all those blessings That blow truth into fruitfulness, and those curses That with their barren breaths blast perjury, Thou art as pure as sanctity’s best shrine From all man’s mixture, save what’s lawful, mine! CAST. O, heaven forgive him, he has forsworn himself! [_Aside._ VORT. Come, ’tis but going now my way. CAST. That’s bad enough. [_Aside._ VORT. I’ve[492] clear’d all doubts, you see. CAST. Good my lord, spare me. VORT. How! it grows later than so. For modesty’s sake, Make more speed this way. CAST. Pardon me, my lord, I cannot. VORT. What? CAST. I dare not. VORT. Fail all confidence In thy weak kind for ever! DEVON. Here’s a storm Able to wake[493] all of our name inhumed, And raise them from their sleeps of peace and fame, To set the honours of their bloods right here, Hundred years after: a perpetual motion Has their true glory been from seed to seed, And cannot be chok’d now with a poor grain Of dust and earth. Her uncle and myself, Wild in this tempest, as e’er[494] robb’d man’s peace, Will undertake, upon life’s deprivation, She shall accept this oath. VORT. You do but call me then Into a world of more despair and horror; Yet since so wilfully you stand engag’d In high scorn to be touch’d, with expedition Perfect your undertakings with your fames; Or, by the issues of abus’d belief, I’ll take the forfeit of lives, lands, and honours, And make one ruin serve our joys and yours. CAST. Why, here’s a height of miseries never reach’d yet! I lose myself and others. DEVON. You may see How much we lay in balance with your goodness, And had we more, it went; for we presume You cannot be religious and so vile— CAST. As to forswear myself—’Tis truth, great sir, The honour of your bed hath been abus’d. VORT. O, beyond patience! CAST. But give me hearing, sir: ’Twas far from my consent; I was surpris’d By villains, and so raught.[495] VORT. Hear you that, sirs? O cunning texture to enclose adultery! Mark but what subtle veil her sin puts on; Religion brings her to confession first, Then steps in art to sanctify that lust.— ’Tis likely you could be surpris’d! CAST. My lord! VORT. I’ll hear no more.—Our guard! seize on those lords. DEVON. We cannot perish now too fast; make speed To swift destruction. He breathes most accurst That lives so long to see his name die first. [_Exeunt_ DEVONSHIRE _and_ STAFFORD, _guarded_. HOR. Here’s no[496] dear[497] villany! [_Aside._ HENG. Let him entreat, sir, That falls in saddest grief for this event, Which ill begins the fortune of this building. My lord! [_Takes_ VORTIGER _aside_. ROX. What if he should cause me to swear too, captain? You know I am as far to seek in honesty[498] As the worst here can be; I should be sham’d too. HOR. Why, fool, they swear by that we worship not; So you may swear your heart out, and ne’er hurt yourself. ROX. That was well thought on; I’d[499] quite lost myself else. VORT. You shall prevail in noble suits, my lord, But this does shame the speaker. HOR. I’ll step in now, Though’t[500] shall be to no purpose.—Good my lord, Think on your noble and most hopeful issue, Lord Vortimer, the prince. VORT. A bastard, sir! I would his life were in my fury now! CAST. That injury stirs my soul to speak the truth Of his conception.—Here I take the book, my lord: By all the glorify’d rewards of virtue And prepar’d punishments for consents in sin, A queen’s hard sorrow ne’er supply’d a kingdom With issue more legitimate than Vortimer. VORT. This takes not out the stain of present shame; Continuance crowns desert: she ne’er can go For perfect honest that’s not always so.— Beshrew thy heart for urging this excuse; Thou’st justify’d her somewhat. HOR. To small purpose. VORT. Among so many women, not one here Dare swear a simple chastity! here’s an age To propagate virtue in! Since I’ve[501] begun, I’ll shame you altogether, and so leave you.— My lord of Kent! HENG. Your highness? VORT. That’s your daughter? HENG. Yes, my good lord. VORT. Though I’m[502] your guest to-day, And should be less austere to you or yours, In this case pardon me; I may not spare her. HENG. Then her own goodness friend her!—she comes, my lord. VORT. The tender reputation of a maid Makes your honour, or else nothing can: The oath you take is not for truth to man, But to your own white soul; a mighty task: What dare you do in this? ROX. My lord, as much As chastity can put a woman to; I ask no favour. And t’approve the purity Of what my habit and my time professeth, As likewise to requite all courteous censure, Here I take oath I am as free from man As truth from falsehood, or sanctity from stain. VORT. O thou treasure that ravishes the possessor! I know not where to speed so well again; I’ll keep thee while I have thee: here’s a fountain To spring forth princes and the seeds of kingdoms! Away with that infection of black honour, And those her leprous pledges!— Here will we store succession with true peace; And of pure virgins grace the poor increase. [_Exeunt all but_ HORSUS. HOR. Ha, ha! He’s well provided now: here struck my fortunes. With what an impudent confidence she swore honest, Having th’ advantage of the oath! precious whore! Methinks I should not hear from fortune next Under an earldom now: she cannot spend A night so idly, but to make a lord With ease, methinks, and play. The earl of Kent Is calm and smooth, like a deep dangerous water; He has some secret way; I know his blood; The grave’s not greedier, nor hell’s lord more proud. Something will hap; for this astonishing choice Strikes pale the kingdom, at which I rejoice. [_Exit._

DUMB SHOW.

_Enter_ LUPUS, GERMANUS, DEVONSHIRE, _and_ STAFFORD, _leading_ VORTIMER, _and crown him_: VORTIGER _comes to them in passion; they neglect him. Enter_ ROXENA _in fury, expressing discontent; then they lead out_ VORTIMER: ROXENA _gives two villains gold to murder him; they swear performance, and go with her_: VORTIGER _offers to run on his sword_; HORSUS _prevents him, and persuades him. The lords bring in_ VORTIMER _dead_: VORTIGER _mourns, and submits to them: they swear him, and crown him. Then enters_ HENGIST _with Saxons_: VORTIGER _draws, threatens expulsion, and then sends a parley; which_ HENGIST _seems to grant by laying down his weapons: so all depart severally_.

_Enter_ RAYNULPH.

RAY. Of Pagan blood a queen being chose, Roxena hight,[503] the Britons rose For Vortimer, and crown’d him king; But she soon poison’d that sweet spring. Then unto rule they did restore Vortiger; and him they swore Against the Saxons: they (constrain’d) Begg’d peace, treaty, and obtain’d. And now in numbers equally Upon the plain near Salisbury, A peaceful meeting they decreen,[504] Like men of love, no weapon seen. But Hengist, that ambitious lord, Full of guile, corrupts his word, As the sequel too well proves:— On that your eyes; on us your loves. [_Exit._

## SCENE III.

_A Plain near Salisbury._

_Enter_ HENGIST, _with_ SAXONS.

HENG. If we let slip this opportuneful hour, Take leave of fortune, certainty, or thought Of ever fixing: we are loose at root, And the least storm may rend us from the bosom Of this land’s hopes for ever. But, dear Saxons, Fasten we now, and our unshaken firmness Will endure after-ages. FIRST SAX. We are resolv’d, my lord. HENG. Observe you not how Vortiger the king, Base in submission, threaten’d our expulsion, His arm held up against us? Is’t[505] not time To make our best prevention? What should check me? He has perfected that great work in our daughter, And made her queen: she can ascend no higher. Therefore be quick; despatch. Here, every man Receive into the service of his vengeance An instrument of steel, which will unseen [_Distributing daggers._ Lurk, like a snake under the innocent shade Of a spread summer-leaf: there, fly you on. Take heart, the commons love us; those remov’d That are the nerves, our greatness stands improv’d. FIRST SAX. Give us the word, my lord, and we are perfect. HENG. That’s true; the word,—I lose myself—_Nemp your sexes_:[506] It shall be that. FIRST SAX. Enough, sir: then we strike. HENG. But the king’s mine: take heed you touch him not. FIRST SAX. We shall not be at leisure; never fear it; We shall have work enough of our own, my lord. HENG. Calm looks, but stormy souls possess you all!

_Enter_ VORTIGER _and_ BRITISH LORDS.