SCENE, partly in Sicily, and partly in the Siennese.

THE MAID OF HONOUR.

ACT I. SCENE I.

Palermo. A State-room in the Palace.

Enter Astutio and Adorni.

Ador. Good day to your lordship.

Ast. Thanks, Adorni.

Ador. May I presume to ask if the ambassador
Employ'd by Ferdinand, the duke of Urbin,
Hath audience this morning?

Enter Fulgentio.

Ast. 'Tis uncertain;
For, though a counsellor of state, I am not
Of the cabinet council: but there's one, if he please,
That may resolve you.

Ador. I will move him.—Sir!

Ful. If you've a suit, show water[133], I am blind else.

Ador. A suit; yet of a nature not to prove
The quarry[134] that you hawk for: if your words
Are not like Indian wares, and every scruple
To be weigh'd and rated, one poor syllable,
Vouchsafed in answer of a fair demand,
Cannot deserve a fee.

Ful. It seems you are ignorant,
I neither speak nor hold my peace for nothing;
And yet, for once, I care not if I answer
One single question, gratis.

Ador. I much thank you.
Hath the ambassador audience, sir, to-day?

Ful. Yes.

Ador. At what hour?

Ful. I promised not so much.
A syllable you begg'd, my charity gave it;
Move me no further. [Exit.

Ast. This you wonder at:
With me, 'tis usual.

Ador. Pray you, sir, what is he?

Ast. No gentleman, yet a lord. He hath some drops
Of the king's blood running in his veins, derived
Some ten degrees off. His revenue lies
In a narrow compass, the king's ear; and yields him
Every hour a fruitful harvest. Men may talk
Of three crops in a year in the Fortunate Islands,
Or profit made by wool; but, while there are suitors,
His sheepshearing, nay, shaving to the quick,
Is in every quarter of the moon, and constant.
In the time of trussing a point,[135] he can undo,
Or make a man: his play or recreation,
Is to raise this up, or pull down that; and, though
He never yet took orders, makes more bishops
In Sicily, than the pope himself.

Enter Bertoldo, Gasparo, Antonio, and a Servant.

Ador. Most strange!

Ast. The presence fills. He in the Malta habit[136]
Is the king's natural brother.

Ador. I understand you.

Bert. With this jewel
Presented to Camiola, prepare,
This night, a visit for me. [Exit Servant.] I shall have
Your company, gallants, I perceive, if that
The king will hear of war.

Ant. You are, sir,
A knight of Malta, and, as I have heard,
Have served against the Turk.

Bert. 'Tis true.

Ant. Pray you, show us
The difference between the city valour,
And service in the field.

Bert. 'Tis somewhat more
Than roaring in a tavern or a brothel,
Or to steal a constable[137] from a sleeping watch,
Then burn their halberds; or, safe guarded by
Your tenant's sons, to carry away a May-pole
From a neighbour village. You will not find there
Your masters of dependencies[138] to take up
A drunken brawl, or, to get you the names
Of valiant chevaliers, fellows that will be,
For a cloak with thrice-dyed velvet, and a cast suit,
Kick'd down the stairs. A knave with a provant sword[139],
If you bear not yourself both in and upright,
Will slash your scarlets and your plush a new way;
Or, with the hilts, thunder about your ears
Such music as will make your worships dance
To the doleful tune of Lachrymæ[140].

Gasp. I must tell you
In private, as you are my princely friend,
I do not like such fiddlers.

Bert. No! they are useful
For your imitation; I remember you,
When you came first to the court, and talk'd of nothing
But your rents and your entradas[141], ever chiming
The golden bells in your pockets; you believed
The taking of the wall as a tribute due to
Your gaudy clothes; and could not walk at midnight
Without a causeless quarrel, as if men
Of coarser outsides were in duty bound
To suffer your affronts: but, when you had been
Cudgell'd well twice or thrice, and from the doctrine
Made profitable uses, you concluded,
The sovereign means to teach irregular heirs
Civility, with conformity of manners,
Were two or three sound beatings.

Ant. I confess
They did much good upon me.

Gasp. And on me:
The principles that they read were sound.

Bert. You'll find
The like instructions in the camp.

Ast. The king!

A flourish. Enter Roberto, Fulgentio, Ambassador, and Attendants.

Rob. [ascends the throne.] We sit prepared to hear.

Amb. Your majesty
Hath been long since familiar, I doubt not,
With the desperate fortunes of my lord; and pity
Of the much that your confederate hath suffer'd,
You being his last refuge, may persuade you
Not alone to compassionate, but to lend
Your royal aids to stay him in his fall
To certain ruin. He, too late, is conscious
That his ambition to encroach upon
His neighbour's territories, with the danger of
His liberty, nay, his life, hath brought in question
His own inheritance: but youth, and heat
Of blood, in your interpretation, may
Both plead and mediate for him. I must grant it
An error in him, being denied the favours
Of the fair princess of Sienna, (though
He sought her in a noble way,) to endeavour
To force affection by surprisal of
Her principal seat, Sienna.

Rob. Which now proves
The seat of his captivity, not triumph:
Heaven is still just.

Amb. And yet that justice is
To be with mercy temper'd, which heaven's deputies
Stand bound to minister. The injured duchess,
By reason taught, as nature, could not, with
The reparation of her wrongs, but aim at
A brave revenge; and my lord feels, too late,
That innocence will find friends. The great Gonzaga,
The honour of his order, (I must praise
Virtue, though in an enemy,) he whose fights
And conquests hold one number, rallying up
Her scatter'd troops, before we could get time
To victual or to man the conquer'd city,
Sat down before it; and presuming that
'Tis not to be relieved, admits no parley,
Our flags of truce hung out in vain: nor will he
Lend an ear to composition, but exacts,
With the rendering up the town, the goods and lives
Of all within the walls, and of all sexes,
To be at his discretion.

Rob. Since injustice
In your duke meets this correction, can you press us,
With any seeming argument of reason,
In foolish pity to decline[142] his dangers,
To draw them on ourself? Shall we not be
Warn'd by his harms? The league proclaim'd between us
Bound neither of us further than to aid
Each other, if by foreign force invaded;
And so far in my honour I was tied.
But since, without our counsel, or allowance,
He hath ta'en arms; with his good leave, he must
Excuse us if we steer not on a rock
We see, and may avoid. Let other monarchs
Contend to be made glorious by proud war,
And, with the blood of their poor subjects, purchase
Increase of empire, and augment their cares
In keeping that which was by wrongs extorted,
Gilding unjust invasions with the trim
Of glorious conquests; we, that would be known
The father of our people, in our study
And vigilance for their safety, must not change
Their ploughshares into swords, and force them from
The secure shade of their own vines, to be
Scorch'd with the flames of war; or, for our sport,
Expose their lives to ruin.

Amb. Will you, then,
In his extremity, forsake your friend?

Rob. No; but preserve ourself.

Bert. Cannot the beams
Of honour thaw your icy fears?

Rob. Who's that?

Bert. A kind of brother, sir, howe'er your subject;
Your father's son, and one who blushes that
You are not heir to his brave spirit and vigour,
As to his kingdom.

Rob. How's this!

Bert. Sir, to be
His living chronicle, and to speak his praise,
Cannot deserve your anger.

Rob. Where's your warrant
For this presumption?

Bert. Here, sir, in my heart:
Let sycophants, that feed upon your favours,
Style coldness in you caution, and prefer
Your ease before your honour; and conclude,
To eat and sleep supinely is the end
Of human blessings: I must tell you, sir,
Virtue, if not in action, is a vice;
And when we move not forward, we go backward[143]:
Nor is this peace, the nurse of drones and cowards,
Our health, but a disease.

Gasp. Well urged, my lord.

Ant. Perfect what is so well begun.

Amb. And bind
My lord your servant.

Rob. Hair-brain'd fool! what reason
Canst thou infer, to make this good?

Bert. A thousand,
Not to be contradicted. But consider
Where your command lies: 'tis not, sir, in France,
Spain, Germany, Portugal, but in Sicily;
An island, sir. Here are no mines of gold
Or silver to enrich you; no worm spins
Silk in her womb, to make distinction
Between you and a peasant, in your habits;
No fish lives near our shores, whose blood can dye
Scarlet or purple; all that we possess,
With beasts we have in common: nature did
Design us to be warriors, and to break through
Our ring, the sea, by which we are environ'd;
And we by force must fetch in what is wanting,
Or precious to us. Add to this, we are
A populous nation, and increase so fast,
That, if we by our providence are not sent
Abroad in colonies, or fall by the sword,
Not Sicily, though now it were more fruitful
Than when 't was styled the granary of great Rome,
Can yield our numerous fry bread: we must starve,
Or eat up one another.

Ador. The king hears
With much attention.

Ast. And seems moved with what
Bertoldo hath deliver'd.

Bert. May you live long, sir,
The king of peace, so you deny not us
The glory of the war; let not our nerves
Shrink up with sloth, nor, for want of employment,
Make younger brothers thieves: it is their swords, sir,
Must sow and reap their harvest. If examples
May move you more than arguments, look on England,
The empress of the European isles,
And unto whom alone ours yields precedence:
When did she flourish so, as when she was
The mistress of the ocean, her navies
Putting a girdle round about the world?
When the Iberian quaked, her worthies named;
And the fair flower-de-luce grew pale, set by
The red rose and the white? Let not our armour
Hung up, or our unrigg'd armada, make us
Ridiculous to the late poor snakes our neighbours,
Warm'd in our bosoms, and to whom again
We may be terrible. Rouse us, sir, from the sleep
Of idleness, and redeem our mortgaged honours.
Your birth, and justly, claims my father's kingdom;
But his heroic mind descends to me:
I will confirm so much.

Ador. In his looks he seems
To break ope Janus' temple.

Ast. How these younglings
Take fire from him!

Ador. It works an alteration
Upon the king.

Ant. I can forbear no longer:
War, war, my sovereign!

Ful. The king appears
Resolved, and does prepare to speak.

Rob. Think not
Our counsel 's built upon so weak a base,
As to be overturn'd, or shaken, with
Tempestuous winds of words. As I, my lord,
Before resolved you, I will not engage
My person in this quarrel; neither press
My subjects to maintain it: yet, to show
My rule is gentle, and that I have feeling
O' your master's sufferings, since these gallants, weary
Of the happiness of peace, desire to taste
The bitter sweets of war, we do consent
That, as adventurers and volunteers,
No way compell'd by us, they may make trial
Of their boasted valours.

Bert. We desire no more.

Rob. 'Tis well; and, but my grant in this, expect not
Assistance from me. Govern, as you please,
The province you make choice of; for, I vow
By all things sacred, if that thou miscarry
In this rash undertaking, I will hear it
No otherwise than as a sad disaster,
Fallen on a stranger; nor will I esteem
That man my subject, who, in thy extremes,
In purse or person aids thee. Take your fortune:
You know me; I have said it. So, my lord,
You have my absolute answer.

Amb. My prince pays,
In me, his duty.

Rob. Follow me, Fulgentio,
And you, Astutio.
[Flourish. Exeunt Roberto, Fulgentio, Astutio, and Attendants.

Gasp. What a frown he threw,
At his departure, on you!

Bert. Let him keep
His smiles for his state flatterer, I care not.

Ant. Shall we aboard to night?

Amb. Your speed, my lord,
Doubles the benefit.

Bert. I have a business
Requires despatch; some two hours hence I'll meet you. [Exeunt.

SCENE II.

The same. A Room in Camiola's House.

Enter Signior Sylli, walking fantastically, followed by Camiola and Clarinda.

Cam. Nay, signior, this is too much ceremony,
In my own house.

Syl. What's gracious abroad,
Must be in private practised.

Clar. For your mirth's sake
Let him alone; he has been all this morning
In practice with a peruked gentleman-usher,
To teach him his true amble, and his postures,
[Sylli walking by, and practising.
When he walks before a lady.

Syl. You may, madam,
Perhaps, believe that I in this use art,
To make you dote upon me, by exposing
My more than most rare features to your view:
But I, as I have ever done, deal simply.
Look not with too much contemplation on me;
If you do, you are lost.

Cam. Is 't possible?
What philters or love-powders do you use,
To force affection? I see nothing in
Your person but I dare look on, yet keep
My own poor heart still.

Syl. You are warn'd—be arm'd;
And do not lose the hope of such a husband,
In being too soon enamour'd.

Cam. Never fear it;
Though your best taking part, your wealth, were trebled,
I would not woo you. But since in your pity
You please to give me caution, tell me what
Temptations I must fly from.

Syl. The first is,
That you never hear me sing, for I'm a Syren:
If you observe, when I warble, the dogs howl,
As ravish'd with my ditties; and you will
Run mad to hear me.

Cam. I will stop my ears,
And keep my little wits.

Syl. Next, when I dance,
And come aloft thus, [capers] cast not a sheep's eye
Upon the quivering of my calf.

Cam. Proceed, sir.

Syl. Nor should your little ladyship be taken with
My pretty spider-fingers, nor my eyes,
That twinkle on both sides.

Cam. Was there ever such
A piece of motley[144] heard of! [A knocking within.] Who's that? [Exit Clarinda.] You may spare
The catalogue of my dangers.

Syl. No, good madam;
I have not told you half.

Cam. Enough, good signior.—

Re-enter Clarinda.

Who is 't?

Clar. The brother of the king.

Syl. Nay, start not.
The brother of the king! is he no more?
Were it the king himself, I'd give him leave
To speak his mind to you, for I am not jealous;
And, to assure your ladyship of so much,
I'll usher him in, and, that done—hide myself,
[Aside, and exit.

Cam. Camiola, if ever, now be constant:
This is, indeed, a suitor, whose sweet presence,
Courtship, and loving language, would have stagger'd
The chaste Penelope; and, to increase
The wonder, did not modesty forbid it,
I should ask that from him he sues to me for:
And yet my reason, like a tyrant, tells me
I must nor give nor take it.

Re-enter Sylli with Bertoldo.

Syl. I must tell you,
You lose your labour. Yet you shall have my countenance
To parley with her, and I'll take special care
That none shall interrupt you.

Bert. You are courteous.

Syl. Come, wench, wilt thou hear wisdom?

Clar. Yes, from you, sir. [They walk aside.

Bert. If forcing this sweet favour from your hand, [Kisses her hand.
Fair madam, argue me of too much boldness,
When you are pleased to understand I take
A parting kiss, if not excuse, at least
'Twill qualify the offence.

Cam. A parting kiss, sir!
What nation, envious of the happiness
Which Sicily enjoys in your sweet presence,
Can buy you from her? or what climate yield
Pleasures transcending those which you enjoy here,
Being both beloved and honour'd; the north-star
And guider of all hearts; and, to sum up
Your full account of happiness in a word,
The brother of the king?

Bert. Do you, alone,
And with an unexampled cruelty,
Enforce my absence, and deprive me of
Those blessings which you, with a polish'd phrase,
Seem to insinuate that I do possess,
And yet tax me as being guilty of
My wilful exile? What are titles to me,
Or popular suffrage, or my nearness to
The king in blood, or fruitful Sicily,
Though it confess'd no sovereign but myself,
When you, that are the essence of my being,
The anchor of my hopes, the real substance
Of my felicity, in your disdain,
Turn all to fading and deceiving shadows?

Cam. You tax me without cause.

Bert. You must confess it.
But answer love with love, and seal the contract
In the uniting of our souls, how gladly
(Though now I were in action, and assured,
Following my fortune, that plumed Victory
Would make her glorious stand upon my tent)
Would I put off my armour, in my heat
Of conquest, and, like Antony, pursue
My Cleopatra! Will you yet look on me
With an eye of favour?

Cam. Truth bear witness for me,
That, in the judgment of my soul, you are
A man so absolute, and circular,
In all those wish'd-for rarities that may take
A virgin captive, that, though at this instant
All scepter'd monarchs of our western world
Were rivals with you, and Camiola worthy
Of such a competition, you alone
Should wear the garland.

Bert. If so, what diverts
Your favour from me?

Cam. No mulct in yourself,
Or in your person, mind, or fortune.

Bert. What then?

Cam. The consciousness of mine own wants: alas! sir,
We are not parallels; but, like lines divided,
Can ne'er meet in one centre[145]. Your birth, sir,
Without addition, were an ample dowry
For one of fairer fortunes; and this shape,
Were you ignoble, far above all value:
To this so clear a mind, so furnish'd with
Harmonious faculties moulded from heaven,
That though you were Thersites in your features,
Of no descent, and Irus in your fortunes,
Ulysses-like, you'd force all eyes and ears
To love, but seen; and, when heard, wonder at
Your matchless story: but all these bound up
Together in one volume!—give me leave
With admiration to look upon them;
But not presume, in my own flattering hopes,
I may or can enjoy them.

Bert. How you ruin
What you would seem to build up! I know no
Disparity between us: you're an heir,
Sprung from a noble family; fair, rich, young,
And every way my equal.

Cam. Sir, excuse me;
One aerie with proportion ne'er discloses
The eagle and the wren[146]:—tissue and frieze
In the same garment, monstrous! But suppose
That what 's in you excessive were diminish'd,
And my desert supplied; the stronger bar,
Religion, stops our entrance: you are, sir,
A knight of Malta, by your order bound
To a single life; you cannot marry me;
And, I assure myself, you are too noble
To seek me, though my frailty should consent,
In a base path.

Bert. A dispensation, lady,
Will easily absolve me.

Cam. O take heed, sir!
When what is vow'd to heaven is dispensed with,
To serve our ends on earth, a curse must follow,
And not a blessing.

Bert. Is there no hope left me?

Cam. Nor to myself, but is a neighbour to
Impossibility. True love should walk
On equal feet; in us it does not, sir:
But rest assured, excepting this, I shall be
Devoted to your service.

Bert. And this is your
Determinate sentence?

Cam. Not to be revoked.

Bert. Farewell, then, fairest cruel! all thoughts in me
Of women perish. Let the glorious light
Of noble war extinguish Love's dim taper.
That only lends me light to see my folly:
Honour, be thou my ever-living mistress,
And fond affection, as thy bond-slave, serve thee!
[Exit.

Cam. How soon my sun is set, he being absent,
Never to rise again! What a fierce battle
Is fought between my passions!

Syl. I perceive
He has his answer: now must I step in
To comfort her. [Comes forward.] You have found, I hope, sweet lady,
Some difference between a youth of my pitch,
And this bugbear Bertoldo. Despair not; I
May be in time entreated.

Cam. Be so now, to leave me.—
Lights for my chamber! O my heart!
[Exeunt.

ACT II. SCENE I.

The same. A Room in the Palace.

Enter Roberto, Fulgentio, and Astutio.

Rob. Embark'd to-night, do you say?

Ful. I saw him aboard, sir.

Rob. And without taking of his leave?

Ast. 'Twas strange!

Rob. Are we grown so contemptible?

Ful. 'Tis far
From me, sir, to add fuel to your anger,
That, in your ill opinion of him, burns
Too hot already; else, I should affirm
It was a gross neglect.

Rob. A wilful scorn
Of duty and allegiance; you give it
Too fair a name: but we shall think on 't. Can you
Guess what the numbers were, that follow'd him
In his desperate action?

Ful. More than you think, sir.
All ill-affected spirits in Palermo,
Or to your government or person, with
The turbulent swordmen, such whose poverty forced them
To wish a change, are gone along with him;
Creatures devoted to his undertakings,
In right or wrong: and, to express their zeal
And readiness to serve him, ere they went,
Profanely took the sacrament on their knees,
To live and die with him.

Rob. O most impious!
Their loyalty to us forgot?

Ful. I fear so.

Ast. Unthankful as they are!

Ful. Yet this deserves not
One troubled thought in you, sir; with your pardon,
I hold that their remove from hence makes more
For your security than danger.

Rob. True;
And, as I'll fashion it, they shall feel it too.
Astutio, you shall presently be despatch'd
With letters, writ and sign'd with our own hand,
To the duchess of Sienna, in excuse
Of our part in these forces sent against her.
You must, beside, from us take some instructions,
To be imparted, as you judge them useful,
To the general Gonzaga. Instantly
Prepare you for your journey.

Ast. With the wings
Of loyalty and duty. [Exit.

Ful. I am bold
To put your majesty in mind——

Rob. Of my promise,
And aids, to further you in your amorous project
To the fair and rich Camiola? there's my ring;
Whatever you shall say that I entreat,
Or can command by power, I will make good.

Ful. Ever your majesty's creature.

Rob. Venus prove
Propitious to you! [Exit.

Ful. All sorts to my wishes:
Bertoldo was my hindrance; he removed,
I now will court her in the conqueror's style;
"Come, see, and overcome."—Boy!

Enter Page.

Page. Sir; your pleasure?

Ful. Haste to Camiola; bid her prepare
An entertainment suitable to a fortune
She could not hope for. Tell her, I vouchsafe
To honour her with a visit.

Page. 'Tis a favour
Will make her proud.

Ful. I know it.

Page. I am gone, sir. [Exit.

Ful. Entreaties fit not me; a man in grace
May challenge awe and privilege, by his place.
[Exit.

SCENE II.

The same. A Room in Camiola's House.

Enter Adorni, Sylli, and Clarinda.

Ador. So melancholy, say you!

Clar. Never given
To such retirement.

Ador. Can you guess the cause?

Clar. If it hath not its birth and being from
The brave Bertoldo's absence, I confess
'Tis past my apprehension.

Syl. You are wide,
The whole field wide[147]. I, in my understanding,
Pity your ignorance.

Ador. Resolve us.

Syl. Know,
Here walks the cause. She dares not look upon me;
My beauties are so terrible and enchanting,
She cannot endure my sight.

Ador. There I believe you.

Syl. But the time will come, be comforted, when I will
Put off this vizor of unkindness to her,
And show an amorous and yielding face:
And, until then, though Hercules himself
Desire to see her, he had better eat
His club, than pass her threshold; for I will be
Her Cerberus, to guard her.

Ador. A good dog!

Clar. Worth twenty porters.

Enter Page.

Page. Keep you open house here?
No groom to attend a gentleman! O, I spy one.

Syl. He means not me, I am sure.

Page. You, sirrah sheep's-head,
With a face cut on a cat-stick[148], do you hear?
You, yeoman fewterer[149], conduct me to
The lady of the mansion, or my poniard
Shall disembogue thy soul.

Syl. O terrible! disembogue!
I talk'd of Hercules, and here is one
Bound up in decimo sexto.

Page. Answer, wretch.

Syl. Pray you, little gentleman, be not so furious:
The lady keeps her chamber.

Page. And we present,
Sent on an embassy to her! but here is
Her gentlewoman. Sirrah! hold my cloak,
While I take a leap at her lips: do it, and neatly;
Or, having first tripp'd up thy heels, I'll make
Thy back my footstool. [Kisses Clarinda.

Syl. Tamberlane in little!
Am I turn'd Turk[150]! What an office am I put to!

Clar. My lady, gentle youth, is indisposed.

Page. Though she were dead and buried, only tell her,
The great man in the court, the brave Fulgentio,
Descends to visit her, and it will raise her
Out of the grave for joy.

Enter Fulgentio.

Syl. Here comes another!
The devil, I fear, in his holiday clothes.

Page. So soon!
My part is at an end then. Cover my shoulders;
When I grow great, thou shalt serve me.

Ful. Are you, sirrah,
An implement of the house? [To Sylli.

Syl. Sure he will make
A jointstool of me!

Ful. Or, if you belong [To Ador.
To the lady of the place, command her hither.

Ador. I do not wear her livery, yet acknowledge
A duty to her; and as little bound
To serve your peremptory will, as she is
To obey your summons. 'Twill become you, sir,
To wait her leisure; then, her pleasure known,
You may present your duty.

Ful. Duty! Slave,
I'll teach you manners.

Ador. I'm past learning; make not
A tumult in the house.

Ful. Shall I be braved thus? [They draw.

Clar. Help! murder!

Enter Camiola.

Cam. What insolence is this? Adorni, hold,
Hold, I command you.

Ful. Saucy groom!

Cam. Not so, sir;
However, in his life, he had dependence
Upon my father, he's a gentleman,
As well born as yourself. Put on your hat.

Ful. In my presence, without leave!

Syl. He has mine, madam.

Cam. And I must tell you, sir, and in plain language,
Howe'er your glittering outside promise gentry,
The rudeness of your carriage and behaviour
Speaks you a coarser thing.

Syl. She means a clown, sir;
I am her interpreter, for want of a better.

Cam. I am a queen in mine own house; nor must you
Expect an empire here.

Syl. Sure I must love her
Before the day, the pretty soul's so valiant.

Cam. What are you? and what would you with me?

Ful. Proud one,
When you know what I am, and what I came for,
And may, on your submission, proceed to,
You, in your reason, must repent the coarseness
Of my entertainment.

Cam. Why, fine man? what are you?

Ful. A kinsman of the king's.

Cam. I cry you mercy,
For his sake, not your own. But, grant you are so,
'Tis not impossible but a king may have
A fool to his kinsman,—no way meaning you, sir.

Ful. You have heard of Fulgentio?

Cam. Long since, sir;
A suit-broker in court. He has the worst
Report among good men I ever heard of,
For bribery and extortion: in their prayers,
Widows and orphans curse him for a canker
And caterpillar in the state. I hope,
Sir, you are not the man.

Ful. I reply not
As you deserve, being assured you know me;
Pretending ignorance of my person, only
To give me a taste of your wit: 'tis well, and courtly;
I like a sharp wit well.

Syl. I cannot endure it;
Nor any of the Syllis.

Ful. More; I know, too,
This harsh induction must serve as a foil
To the well-tuned observance and respect
You will hereafter pay me, being made
Familiar with my credit with the king,
And that (contain your joy) I deign to love you.

Cam. Love me! I am not rapt with it.

Ful. Hear 't again;
I love you honestly: now you admire me.

Cam. I do, indeed; it being a word so seldom
Heard from a courtier's mouth. But, pray you, deal plainly,
Since you find me simple; what might be the motives
Inducing you to leave the freedom of
A bachelor's life, on your soft neck to wear
The stubborn yoke of marriage; and, of all
The beauties in Palermo, to choose me,
Poor me? that is the main point you must treat of.

Ful. Why, I will tell you. Of a little thing
You are a pretty peat[151], indifferent fair too;
And, like a new-rigg'd ship, both tight and yare:
Besides, the quickness of your eye assures
An active spirit.

Cam. You are pleasant, sir;
Yet I presume that there was one thing in me,
Unmention'd yet, that took you more than all
Those parts you have remember'd.

Ful. What?

Cam. My wealth, sir.

Ful. You are in the right; without that, beauty is
A flower worn in the morning, at night trod on:
But beauty, youth, and fortune meeting in you,
I will vouchsafe to marry you.

Cam. You speak well;
And, in return, excuse me, sir, if I
Deliver reasons why, upon no terms,
I'll marry you: I fable not.

Syl. I am glad
To hear this: I began to have an ague.

Ful. Come, your wise reasons.

Cam. Such as they are, pray take them:
First, I am doubtful whether you are a man,
Since, for your shape, trimm'd up in a lady's dressing,
You might pass for a woman; for the fairness
Of your complexion, which you think will take me,
The colour, I must tell you, in a man,
Is weak and faint, and never will hold out,
If put to labour: give me the lovely brown,
A thick curl'd hair of the same die, a leg without
An artificial calf;—I suspect yours;
But let that pass.

Syl. She means me all this while,
For I have every one of those good parts;
O Sylli! fortunate Sylli!

Cam. You are moved, sir.

Ful. Fie! no; go on.

Cam. Then, as you are a courtier,
A graced one too, I fear you have been too forward;
And so much for your person. One word more,
And I have done.

Ful. I'll ease you of the trouble,
Coy and disdainful!

Cam. Save me, or else he'll beat me.

Ful. No, your own folly shall; and, since you put me
To my last charm, look upon this, and tremble.
[Shows the king's ring.

Cam. At the sight of a fair ring! the king's, I take it?
I have seen him wear the like: if he hath sent it,
As a favour, to me——

Ful. Yes, 'tis very likely,
His dying mother's gift, prized as his crown!
By this he does command you to be mine;
By his gift you are so:—you may yet redeem all.

Cam. You are in a wrong account still. Though the king may
Dispose of my life and goods, my mind's mine own,
And never shall be yours. The king, heaven bless him!
Is good and gracious, and will not compel
His subjects against their wills. I believe,
Forgetting it when he wash'd his hands, you stole it,
With an intent to awe me. But you are cozen'd;
I am still myself, and will be.

Ful. A proud haggard[152],
And not to be reclaim'd! which of your grooms,
Your coachman, fool, or footman, is the lover
Preferr'd before me?

Cam. You are foul-mouth'd.

Ful. Much fairer
Than thy black soul; and so I will proclaim thee.

Cam. Were I a man, thou durst not speak this.

Ful. Heaven
So prosper me, as I resolve to do it
To all men, and in every place: scorn'd by
A tit of ten-pence! [Exeunt Fulgentio and Page.

Syl. Now I begin to be valiant:
Nay, I will draw my sword. O for a brother[153]!
Do a friend's part; pray you, carry him the length of 't.
I give him three years and a day to match my Toledo,
And then we'll fight like dragons.

Ador. Pray, have patience.

Cam. I may live to have vengeance: my Bertoldo
Would not have heard this.

Ador. Madam,——

Cam. Pray you, spare
Your language. Prithee fool[154], and make me merry. [To Sylli.

Syl. That is my office ever.

Ador. I must do,
Not talk; this glorious gallant shall hear from me.
[Exeunt.

SCENE III.

The Siennese. A Camp before the Walls of Sienna.

Chambers shot off: a Flourish as to an Assault: after which, enter Gonzaga, Pierio, Roderigo, Jacomo, and Soldiers.

Gonz. Is the breach made assaultable?

Pier. Yes, and the moat
Fill'd up; the cannoneer hath done his parts;
We may enter six abreast.

Rod. There's not a man
Dares show himself upon the wall.

Jac. Defeat not
The soldiers' hoped-for spoil.

Pier. If you, sir,
Delay the assault, and the city be given up
To your discretion, you in honour cannot
Use the extremity of war,—but, in
Compassion to them, you to us prove cruel.

Jac. And an enemy to yourself.

Rod. A hindrance to
The brave revenge you have vow'd.

Gonz. Temper your heat,
And lose not, by too sudden rashness, that
Which, be but patient, will be offer'd to you.
Security ushers ruin; proud contempt
Of an enemy three parts vanquish'd, with desire
And greediness of spoil, have often wrested
A certain victory from the conqueror's gripe.
Discretion is the tutor of the war.
Valour the pupil; and, when we command
With lenity, and our direction's follow'd
With cheerfulness, a prosperous end must crown
Our works well undertaken.

Rod. Ours are finish'd——

Pier. If we make use of fortune.

Gonz. Her false smiles
Deprive you of your judgments. The condition
Of our affairs exacts a double care,
And, like bifronted Janus, we must look
Backward, as forward: though a flattering calm
Bids us urge on, a sudden tempest raised,
Not feared, much less expected, in our rear,
May foully fall upon us, and distract us
To our confusion.—

Enter a Scout, hastily.

Our scout! what brings
Thy ghastly looks, and sudden speed?

Scout. The assurance
Of a new enemy.

Gonz. This I foresaw and fear'd.
What are they, know'st thou?

Scout. They are, by their colours,
Sicilians, bravely mounted, and the brightness
Of their rich armours doubly gilded with
Reflection of the sun.

Gonz. From Sicily?——
The king in league! no war proclaim'd! 'tis foul:
But this must be prevented, not disputed.
Ha! how is this? your estridge[155] plumes, that but
Even now, like quills of porcupines, seem'd to threaten
The stars, drop at the rumour of a shower,
And, like to captive colours, sweep the earth!
Bear up; but in great dangers, greater minds
Are never proud. Shall a few loose troops, untrain'd
But in a customary ostentation,
Presented as a sacrifice to your valours,
Cause a dejection in you?

Pier. No dejection.

Rod. However startled, where you lead we'll follow.

Gonz. 'Tis bravely said. We will not stay their charge,
But meet them man to man, and horse to horse.
Pierio, in our absence hold our place;
And with our foot men and those sickly troops
Prevent a sally: I in mine own person,
With part of the cavallery, will bid
These hunters welcome to a bloody breakfast:—
But I lose time.

Pier. I'll to my charge. [Exit.

Gonz. And we
To ours: I'll bring you on.

Jac. If we come off,
It's not amiss; if not, my state is settled.
[Exeunt. Alarum within.

SCENE IV.

The same. The Citadel of Sienna.

Enter Ferdinand, Druso, and Livio, on the Walls.

Fer. No aids from Sicily! Hath hope forsook us;
And that vain comfort to affliction, pity,
By our vow'd friend denied us? we can nor live
Nor die with honour: like beasts in a toil,
We wait the leisure of the bloody hunter,
Who is not so far reconciled unto us,
As in one death to give a period
To our calamities; but in delaying
The fate we cannot fly from, starved with wants,
We die this night, to live again to-morrow,
And suffer greater torments.

Dru. There is not
Three days' provision for every soldier,
At an ounce of bread a day, left in the city.

Liv. To die the beggar's death, with hunger made
Anatomies while we live, cannot but crack
Our heart-strings with vexation.

Fer. Would they would break,
Break altogether! How willingly, like Cato,
Could I tear out my bowels, rather than
Look on the conqueror's insulting face;
But that religion, and the horrid dream
To be suffer'd in the other world, denies it!

Enter a Soldier.

What news with thee?

Sold. From the turret of the fort,
By the rising clouds of dust, through which, like lightning,
The splendour of bright arms sometimes brake through,
I did descry some forces making towards us;
And, from the camp, as emulous of their glory,
The general, (for I know him by his horse,)
And bravely seconded, encounter'd them.
Their greetings were too rough for friends; their swords,
And not their tongues, exchanging courtesies.
By this the main battalias are join'd;
And, if you please to be spectators of
The horrid issue, I will bring you where,
As in a theatre, you may see their fates
In purple gore presented.

Fer. Heaven, if yet thou art
Appeased for my wrong done to Aurelia,
Take pity of my miseries! Lead the way, friend.
[Exeunt.

SCENE V.

The same. A Plain near the Camp.

A long Charge; after which, a Flourish for Victory: then enter Gonzaga, Jacomo, and Roderigo, wounded; Bertoldo, Gasparo, and Antonio, Prisoners. Officers and Soldiers.

Gonz. We have them yet, though they cost us dear. This was
Charged home, and bravely follow'd. Be to yourselves [To Jacomo and Roderigo.
True mirrors to each other's worth; and, looking
With noble emulation on his wounds,
[Points to Bert.
The glorious livery of triumphant war,
Imagine these with equal grace appear
Upon yourselves. The bloody sweat you have suffer'd
In this laborious, nay, toilsome harvest,
Yields a rich crop of conquest; and the spoil,
Most precious balsam to a soldier's hurts,
Will ease and cure them. Let me look upon
[Gasparo and Antonio are brought forward.
The prisoners' faces. Oh, how much transform'd
From what they were! O Mars! were these toys fashion'd
To undergo the burthen of thy service?
The weight of their defensive armour bruised
Their weak effeminate limbs, and would have forced them,
In a hot day, without a blow to yield.

Ant. This insultation shows not manly in you.

Gonz. To men I had forborne it; you are women,
Or, at the best, loose carpet-knights[156]. What fury
Seduced you to exchange your ease in court
For labour in the field? Perhaps you thought
To charge, through dust and blood, an armed foe,
Was but like graceful running at the ring
For a wanton mistress' glove; and the encounter,
A soft impression on her lips:—but you
Are gaudy butterflies, and I wrong myself
In parling with you.

Gasp. Vœ victis! now we prove it.

Rod. But here's one fashion'd in another mould,
And made of tougher metal.

Gonz. True; I owe him
For this wound bravely given.

Bert. O that mountains
Were heap'd upon me, that I might expire,
A wretch no more remember'd! [Aside.

Gonz. Look up, sir;
To be o'ercome deserves no shame. If you
Had fallen ingloriously, or could accuse
Your want of courage in resistance, 'twere
To be lamented: but, since you perform'd
As much as could be hoped for from a man,
(Fortune his enemy,) you wrong yourself
In this dejection. I am honour'd in
My victory over you; but to have these
My prisoners, is, in my true judgment, rather
Captivity than a triumph: you shall find
Fair quarter from me, and your many wounds,
Which I hope are not mortal, with such care
Look'd to and cured, as if your nearest friend
Attended on you.

Bert. When you know me better,
You will make void this promise: can you call me
Into your memory?

Gonz. The brave Bertoldo!
A brother of our order! By St. John,
Our holy patron, I am more amazed,
Nay, thunderstruck with thy apostacy,
And precipice from the most solemn vows
Made unto Heaven when this, the glorious badge
Of our Redeemer, was conferred upon thee
By the great master, than if I had seen
A reprobate Jew, an atheist, Turk, or Tartar,
Baptized in our religion!

Bert. This I look'd for;
And am resolved to suffer.

Gonz. Fellow-soldiers,
Behold this man, and, taught by his example,
Know that 'tis safer far to play with lightning,
Than trifle in things sacred. In my rage [Weeps.
I shed these at the funeral of his virtue,
Faith, and religion; why, I will tell you:—
He was a gentleman so train'd up and fashion'd
For noble uses, and his youth did promise
Such certainties, more than hopes, of great achievements,
As—if the Christian world had stood opposed
Against the Othoman race, to try the fortune
Of one encounter—this Bertoldo had been,
For his knowledge to direct, and matchless courage
To execute, without a rival, by
The votes of good men, chosen general;
As the prime soldier, and most deserving
Of all that wear the cross: which now, in justice,
I thus tear from him.

Bert. Let me die with it
Upon my breast.

Gonz. No; by this thou wert sworn,
On all occasions, as a knight, to guard
Weak ladies from oppression, and never
To draw thy sword against them; whereas thou,
In hope of gain or glory, when a princess,
And such a princess as Aurelia is,
Was dispossess'd by violence of what was
Her true inheritance, against thine oath
Hast, to thy uttermost, labour'd to uphold
Her falling enemy. But thou shalt pay
A heavy forfeiture, and learn too late,
Valour employ'd in an ill quarrel turns
To cowardice, and Virtue then puts on
Foul Vice's visor. This is that which cancels
All friendship's bands between us.—Bear them off;
I will hear no reply: and let the ransom
Of these, for they are yours, be highly rated.
In this I do but right, and let it be
Styled justice, and not wilful cruelty. [Exeunt.

ACT III. SCENE I.

The same. A Camp before the Walls of Sienna.

Enter Gonzaga, Astutio, Roderigo, and Jacomo.

Gonz. What I have done, sir, by the law of arms
I can and will make good.

Ast. I have no commission
To expostulate the act. These letters speak
The king my master's love to you, and his
Vow'd service to the duchess, on whose person
I am to give attendance.

Gonz. At this instant,
She's at Fienza: you may spare the trouble
Of riding thither: I have advertised her
Of our success, and on what humble terms
Sienna stands: though presently I can
Possess it, I defer it, that she may
Enter her own, and, as she please, dispose of
The prisoners and the spoil.

Ast. I thank you, sir.
In the mean time, if I may have your licence,
I have a nephew, and one once my ward,
For whose liberties and ransoms I would gladly
Make composition.

Gonz. They are, as I take it,
Call'd Gasparo and Antonio.

Ast. The same, sir.

Gonz. For them, you must treat with these; but, for Bertoldo,
He is mine own: if the king will ransom him,
He pays down fifty thousand crowns; if not,
He lives and dies my slave.

Ast. Pray you, a word: [Aside to Gonz.
The king will rather thank you to detain him,
Than give one crown to free him.

Gonz. At his pleasure.
I'll send the prisoners under guard: my business
Calls me another way. [Exit.

Ast. My service waits you.
Now, gentlemen, for this ransom, since you are not
To be brought lower, there is no evading;
I'll be your paymaster.

Rod. We desire no better.

Ast. But not a word of what's agreed between us,
Till I have school'd my gallants.

Jac. I am dumb, sir.

Enter a Guard, with Bertoldo, Antonio, and Gasparo, in irons.

Bert. And where removed now? hath the tyrant found out
Worse usage for us?

Ant. Worse it cannot be.
My greyhound has fresh straw, and scraps, in his kennel;
But we have neither.

Gasp. Did I ever think
To wear such garters on silk stockings? or
That my too curious appetite, that turn'd
At the sight of godwits, pheasant, partridge, quails,
Larks, woodcocks, calver'd salmon[157], as coarse diet,
Would leap at a mouldy crust?

Ant. And go without it,
So oft as I do? Oh! how have I jeer'd
The city entertainment! A huge shoulder
Of glorious fat ram-mutton, seconded
With a pair of tame cats or conies, a crab-tart,
With a worthy loin of veal, and valiant capon,
Mortified to grow tender!—these I scorn'd,
From their plentiful horn of abundance, though invited:
But now I could carry my own stool to a tripe[158],
And call their chitterlings charity, and bless the founder.

Bert. O that I were no further sensible
Of my miseries than you are! you, like beasts,
Feel only stings of hunger, and complain not
But when you're empty: but your narrow souls
(If you have any) cannot comprehend
How insupportable the torments are,
Which a free and noble soul, made captive, suffers.
Most miserable men!—and what am I, then,
That envy you? Fetters, though made of gold,
Express base thraldom; and all delicates
Prepared by Median cooks for epicures,
When not our own, are bitter: quilts fill'd high
With gossamere and roses cannot yield
The body soft repose, the mind kept waking
With anguish and affliction.

Ast. My good lord——

Bert. This is no time nor place for flattery, sir:
Pray you, style me as I am, a wretch forsaken
Of the world, as myself.

Ast. I would it were
In me to help you.

Bert. If that you want power, sir,
Lip-comfort cannot cure me. Pray you, leave me
To mine own private thoughts. [Walks by.

Ast. [comes forward.] My valiant nephew!
And my more than warlike ward! I am glad to see you,
After your glorious conquests. Are these chains
Rewards for your good service? if they are,
You should wear them on your necks, since they are massy,
Like aldermen of the war.

Ant. You jeer us too!

Gasp. Good uncle, name not, as you are a man of honour,
That fatal word of war; the very sound of it
Is more dreadful than a cannon.

Ant. But redeem us
From this captivity, and I'll vow hereafter
Never to wear a sword, or cut my meat
With a knife that has an edge or point; I'll starve first.

Ast. Well, have more wit hereafter: for this time
You are ransom'd.

Jac. Off with their irons!

Rod. Do, do:
If you are ours again, you know your price.

Ant. Pray you, despatch us: I shall ne'er believe
I am a free man, till I set my foot
In Sicily again, and drink Palermo,
And in Palermo too.

Ast. The wind sits fair;
You shall aboard to-night: with the rising sun
You may touch upon the coast. But take your leaves
Of the late general first.

Gasp. I will be brief.

Ant. And I. My lord, Heaven keep you!

Gasp. Yours, to use
In the way of peace; but as your soldiers, never.

Ant. A pox of war! no more of war.
[Exeunt Rod. Jac. Ant. and Gasp.

Bert. Have you
Authority to loose their bonds, yet leave
The brother of your king, whose worth disdains
Comparison with such as these, in irons?
If ransom may redeem them, I have lands,
A patrimony of mine own, assign'd me
By my deceased sire, to satisfy
Whate'er can be demanded for my freedom.

Ast. I wish you had, sir; but the king, who yields
No reason for his will, in his displeasure
Hath seized on all you had; nor will Gonzaga,
Whose prisoner now you are, accept of less
Than fifty thousand crowns.

Bert. I find it now,
That misery never comes alone. But, grant
The king is yet inexorable, time
May work him to a feeling of my sufferings.
I have friends that swore their lives and fortunes were
At my devotion, and, among the rest,
Yourself, my lord, when forfeited to the law
For a foul murder, and in cold blood done,
I made your life my gift, and reconciled you
To this incensed king, and got your pardon.
—Beware ingratitude! I know you are rich,
And may pay down the sum.