Chapter XI: 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.

VORT. We see you keep your words in all points firm.
HENG. No longer may we boast of so much breath
As goes to a word’s making, than of care
In the preserving of it when ’tis made.
VORT. You’re in a virtuous way, my lord of Kent:
And since both sides are met, like sons of peace,
All other arms laid by in signs of favour,
If our conditions be embrac’d—
HENG. They are.
VORT. We’ll use no other but these only here.
HENG. _Nemp your sexes._
BRITISH LORDS. Treason! treason!
[_The_ SAXONS _stab the_ BRITISH LORDS.
HENG. Follow it to the heart, my trusty Saxons!
It is your liberty, your wealth, and honour.—
Soft, you are mine, my lord. [_Seizing_ VORTIGER.
VORT. Take me not basely, when all sense and strength
Lie[507] bound up in amazement at this treachery.
What devil hath breath’d this everlasting part
Of falsehood into thee?
HENG. Let it suffice
I have you, and will hold you prisoner,
As fast as death holds your best props in silence.
We know the hard conditions of our peace,
Slavery or diminution; which we hate
With a joint loathing. May all perish thus,
That seek to subjugate or lessen us!
VORT. O, the strange nooks of guile or subtilty,
When man so cunningly lies hid from man!
Who could expect such treason from thy breast,
Such thunder from thy voice? Or tak’st thou pride
To imitate the fair uncertainty
Of a bright day, that teems a sudden storm,
When the world least expects one? but of all,
I’ll ne’er trust fair sky in a man again:
There’s the deceitful weather. Will you heap
More guilt upon you by detaining me,
Like a cup taken after a sore surfeit,
Even in contempt of health and heaven together?
What seek you?
HENG. Ransom for your liberty,
As I shall like of, or you ne’er obtain it.
VORT. Here’s a most headlong dangerous ambition!
Sow you the seeds of your aspiring hopes
In blood and treason, and must I pay for them?
HENG. Have not I rais’d you to this height of pride?
A work of my own merit, since you enforce it.
VORT. There’s even the general thanks of all aspirers:
When they have all a kingdom can impart,
They write above it still their own desert.
HENG. I’ve[508] writ mine true, my lord.
VORT. That’s all their sayings.
Have not I rais’d thy daughter to a queen?
HENG. You have the harmony of your pleasure for it;
You crown your own desires; what’s that to me?
VORT. And what will crown yours, sir?
HENG. Faith, things of reason:
I demand Kent.
VORT. Why, you’ve the earldom of it.
HENG. The kingdom of’t, I mean, without control,
In full possession.
VORT. This is strange in you.
HENG. It seems you’re not acquainted with my blood,
To call this strange.
VORT. Never was king of Kent,
But who was general king.
HENG. I’ll be the first then:
Every thing has beginning.
VORT. No less title?
HENG. Not if you hope for liberty, my lord.
So dear a happiness would not be wrong’d
With slighting.
VORT. Very well: take it; I resign it.
HENG. Why, I thank your grace.
VORT. Is your great thirst yet satisfied?
HENG. Faith, my lord,
There’s yet behind a pair of teeming sisters,
Norfolk and Suffolk, and I’ve[509] done with you.
VORT. You’ve got a dangerous thirst of late, my lord,
Howe’er you came by’t.[510]
HENG. It behoves me then,
For my blood’s health, to seek all means to quench it.
VORT. Them too?
HENG. There will nothing be abated, I assure you.
VORT. You have me at advantage: he whom fate
Does captivate, must yield to all. Take them.
HENG. And you your liberty and peace, my lord,
With our best love and wishes.—Here’s an hour
Begins us, Saxons, in wealth, fame, and power.
[_Exit with_ SAXONS.
VORT. Are these the noblest fruits and fair’st
requitals
From works of our own raising?
Methinks,[511] the murder of Constantius
Speaks to me in the voice of’t,[512] and the wrongs
Of our late queen, slipt both into one organ.

_Enter_ HORSUS.

Ambition, hell, my own undoing lust,
And all the brood of plagues, conspire against me:
I have not a friend left me.
HOR. My lord, he dies
That says it, but yourself, were’t that thief-king,
That has so boldly stoln his honours from you;
A treason that wrings tears from honest manhood.
VORT. So rich am I now in thy love and pity,
I feel no loss at all: but we must part,
My queen and I to Cambria.
HOR. My lord, and I not nam’d,
That have vow’d lasting service to my life’s
Extremest minute!
VORT. Is my sick fate blest with so pure a friend?
HOR. My lord, no space of earth, nor breadth of sea,
Shall divide me from you.
VORT. O faithful treasure!
All my lost happiness is made up in thee. [_Exit._
HOR. I’ll follow you through the world, to cuckold
you;
That’s my way now. Every one has his toy
While he lives here: some men delight in building,
A trick of Babel, which will ne’er be left;
Some in consuming what was rais’d with toiling;
Hengist in getting honour, I in spoiling. [_Exit._