King Leir
Scene 1* Video Sc. 1*
Enter King Leir*, Skalliger, Perillus and a Nobleman1.Sp1Leir
Of our—too late*—deceased and dearest queen,
Whose soul, I hope, possessed of heavenly joys,
Let us request your grave* advice, my lords,
For whom our care is specially employed,
As nature bindeth,* to advance their states
In royal marriage with some princely mates;
For wanting* now their mother’s good advice,
Under whose government they have received
A perfect pattern* of a virtuous life—
Left, as it were, a ship without a stern,*
Or silly sheep without a pastor’s care—*
Although ourselves do dearly tender* them,
Yet are we ignorant of their affairs,
For fathers best do know to govern sons,
But daughters’ steps the mother’s counsel turns.*
A son we want for to succeed* our crown,
And course of time hath cancellèd the date
Of further issue from our withered loins;*
One foot already hangeth in the grave,
And age hath made deep furrows in my face.
The world of me, I of the world am weary,
And think upon the welfare of my soul,
Which by no better means may be effected
Than by resigning up the crown from me
In equal dowry* to my daughters three.
1.Sp2Skalliger
A worthy care, my liege, which well declares
The zeal you bare unto our quondam* queen.
And since your grace hath licensed me to speak,*
I censure* thus: your majesty, knowing well
What several* suitors your princely daughters have,
To make them each a jointure*—more or less,
As is their worth—to them that love profess.*
1.Sp4A Nobleman
My gracious lord, I heartily do wish
That God had lent you an heir indubitate,*
Which might have set* upon your royal throne
By whose succession all this doubt might cease
And, as by you, by him we might have peace.
But after-wishes* ever come too late
And nothing can revoke the course of fate;
Wherefore, my liege, my censure deems it best,
To match them with some of your neighbor kings,
Bord’ring within the bounds of Albion,*
By whose united friendship, this our state,
May be protected ’gainst all foreign hate.
1.Sp5Leir
Herein, my lords, your wishes sort* with mine,
And mine, I hope, do sort with heavenly powers,
For at this instant two near-neighboring kings,
To my two daughters, Gonorill and Ragan.
My youngest daughter, fair Cordella, vows
No liking to a monarch unless love allows.
But none of them her partial fancy* hears.
Yet, if my policy* may her beguile,
I’ll match her to some king within this isle
And so establish such a perfect peace
1.Sp6Perillus
Of us and ours, your gracious care, my lord,
Deserves an everlasting memory
To be enrolled in chronicles* of fame
By never-dying perpetuity;
Yet, to become so provident* a prince,
Lose not the title of a loving father.
Do not force love where fancy cannot dwell,
Lest streams, being stopped,* above the banks do swell.
1.Sp7Leir
I am resolved*, and even now my mind
Doth meditate a sudden stratagem*
To try which of my daughters loves me best,
Which, till I know, I cannot be in rest.
This granted, when they jointly shall contend,
Each to exceed the other in their love,
Then at the vantage* will I take Cordella,
Even as she doth protest she loves me best;
I’ll say, “Then, daughter, grant me one request:”
“Accept a husband whom myself will woo.”
This said, she cannot well deny my suit,*
Although, poor soul, her senses will be mute.
Then will I triumph in my policy,
And match her with a king of Brittany.*
1.Sp9Perillus
Exeunt.*
Aside Thus, fathers think their children to beguile,
And oftentimes themselves do first repent
When heavenly powers do frustrate their intent.
Scene 2* Video Sc. 2*
Enter Gonorill and Ragan2.Sp1Gonorill
I marvel, Ragan, how you can endure
To see that proud pert peat,* our youngest sister,
So slightly to account of us, her elders,
As if we were no better than herself!
We cannot have a quaint device* so soon,
Or new-made fashion of our choice invention,*
But, if she like it, she will have the same,
Or study newer to exceed us both.
Besides, she is so nice* and so demure,
So sober, courteous, modest, and precise,*
That all the court hath work enough to do
To talk how she exceedeth me and you.*
2.Sp2Ragan
What should I do? Would it were in my power
To find a cure for this contagious ill:
Some desperate medicine* must be soon applied
To dim the glory of her mounting fame,
Else, ere’t be long, she’ll have both prick* and praise,
And we must be set by for working days.*
Do you not see what several* choice of suitors
She daily hath, and of the best degree?*
Say, amongst all, she hap* to fancy one,
And have a husband whenas we have none;
Why, then, by right, to her we must give place,*
Though it be ne’er so much to our disgrace.*
2.Sp3Gonorill
By my virginity,* rather than she shall have
A husband before me,
I’ll marry one or other in his shirt.*
And yet I have made half a grant already*
Of my good will unto the king of Cornwall.
2.Sp4Ragan
Enter Skalliger
Swear not so deeply,* sister. Here cometh my Lord Skalliger.
Something his hasty coming doth import.
2.Sp5Skalliger
Sweet princesses, I am glad I met you here so luckily,*
Having good news which doth concern you both
And craveth speedy expedition.*
2.Sp7Skalliger
To Ragan Madam, to save your longing,* this it is:
Your father, in great secrecy,* today
Told me he means to marry you out of hand*
Unto the noble prince of Cambria.—
You, madam, to the king of Cornwall’s grace.—
Your younger sister he would fain* bestow
Upon the rich king of Hibernia,*
But that he doubts she hardly will consent,*
For hitherto she ne’er could fancy him.
If she do yield, why then, between you three,
He will divide his kingdom for your dowries.
But yet there is a further mystery
Which, so you will* conceal, I will disclose.
2.Sp8Gonorill
Whate’er thou speakst to us, kind Skalliger,
Think that thou speak’st it only to thyself.
2.Sp9Skalliger
He earnestly desireth for to know
Which of you three do bear most love to him,
And on your loves he so extremely dotes*
As never any did, I think, before.
He presently* doth mean to send for you
To be resolved of this tormenting doubt,
And look whose* answer pleaseth him the best,
They shall have most unto their marriages.
2.Sp11Skalliger
For he supposeth that Cordella will,
Striving to go beyond you in her love,
Promise to do whatever he desires;
Then will he straight enjoin* her, for his sake,
This is the sum of all I have to say,
Which, being done, I humbly take my leave,
Not doubting but your wisdoms will foresee
What course will best unto your good agree.*
2.Sp12Gonorill
Exit Skalliger.
Thanks, gentle* Skalliger; thy kindness undeserved
Shall not be unrequited, if we live.
2.Sp14Gonorill
Nay, our revenge we will inflict on her
Shall be accounted piety in us.*
I will so flatter with my doting father
As he was ne’er so flattered in his life.
Nay, I will say that if it be his pleasure
To match me to a beggar, I will yield,
For why* I know—whatever I do say—
He means to match me with the Cornwall king.
2.Sp15Ragan
I’ll say the like, for I am well assured,
Whate’er I say to please the old man’s mind,
Who dotes as if he were a child again,
I shall enjoy the noble Cambrian prince;
Only, to feed his humor, will suffice
To say I am content with anyone
Whom he’ll appoint me.* This will please him more
2.Sp16Gonorill
Exeunt.
I smile to think in what a woeful plight
Cordella will be when we answer thus,
For she will rather die than give consent
To join in marriage with the Irish* king.
So will our father think she loveth him not
Because she will not grant to his desire,
Which we will aggravate in such bitter terms
That he will soon convert his love to hate,
For he, you know, is always in extremes.
Scene 3* Video Sc. 3*
Enter Leir and Perillus Exit.3.Sp3Leir
Oh, what a combat feels my panting heart
’Twixt children’s love and care of common weal!*
How dear my daughters are unto my soul
None knows but He* that knows my thoughts and secret deeds.
Ah, little do they know the dear regard
Wherein I hold their future state to come.
When they securely sleep on beds of down,
These agèd eyes do watch for their behalf.*
As doth the sun exceed the smallest star,
So much the father’s love exceeds the child’s.
Yet my complaints are causeless, for the world
Affords not children more conformable,*
And yet methinks my mind presageth* still
I know not what, and yet I fear some ill.
Enter Perillus, with the three daughters,* Gonorill, Ragan and CordellaWell, here my daughters come. I have found out
3.Sp4Gonorill
Our royal lord and father, in all duty
We come to know the tenor* of your will,
Why you so hastily have sent for us.*
3.Sp5Leir
Dear Gonorill, kind Ragan, sweet Cordella,
Ye flourishing branches of a kingly stock,
Sprung from a tree that once did flourish green,
Whose blossoms now are nipped with winter’s frost,
And pale, grim Death doth wait upon my steps,
And summons me unto his next assizes.*
Therefore, dear daughters, as ye tender* the safety
Of him that was the cause of your first being,
Resolve a doubt which much molests my mind:
Which of you three to me would prove most kind,
Which loves me most, and which, at my request,
Will soonest yield unto their father’s hest?*
3.Sp6Gonorill
I hope my gracious father makes no doubt
Of any of his daughters’* love to him;
Yet, for my part, to show my zeal to you,
I prize my love to you at such a rate,
I think my life inferior to my love.
Should you enjoin me for to tie a millstone*
About my neck and leap into the sea,
At your command I willingly would do it.
Yea, for to do you good, I would ascend
The highest turret in all Brittany,
And from the top leap headlong to the ground.
Nay, more, should you appoint me for to marry*
Without reply I would accomplish it.
In brief, command whatever you desire,
And if I fail, no favor I require.
3.Sp10Ragan
Oh, that my simple utterance could suffice
To tell the true intention of my heart,
Which burns in zeal of duty to your grace
And never can be quenched but by desire
To show the same in outward forwardness.
Oh, that there were some other maid* that durst
But make a challenge of her love with me:
I’d make her soon confess she never loved
Her father half so well as I do you.
Ay, then my deeds should prove in plainer case*
How much my zeal aboundeth to your grace.
But, for them all, let this one mean suffice*
To ratify* my love before your eyes:
I have right noble suitors to my love,
No worse than kings, and happily I love one;
Yet, would you have me make my choice anew,
3.Sp14Cordella
I cannot* paint my duty forth in words;
I hope my deeds shall make report for me.
But look what love the child doth owe the father:
The same to you I bear, my gracious lord.
3.Sp15Gonorill
Here is an answer answerless indeed!
Were you my daughter, I should scarcely brook* it.
3.Sp17Leir
Why, how now, minion,* are you grown so proud?
Doth our dear love make you thus peremptory?*
What, is your love become so small to us
As that you scorn to tell us what it is?
Do you love us as every child doth love
Their father? True indeed, as some
Who by disobedience short* their fathers’ days,
And so would you; some are so father-sick
That they make means to rid them from the world,
And so would you; some are indifferent
Whether their agèd parents live or die,
And so are you. But didst thou know, proud girl,
What care I had to foster* thee to this,
Ah, then thou wouldst say as thy sisters do:
“Our life is less than love we owe to you”.*
3.Sp18Cordella
Dear father, do not so mistake my words,
Nor my plain meaning be misconstrued;
My tongue was never used to flattery.
3.Sp19Gonorill
You were not best say I flatter: if you do,
My deeds shall show I flatter not with you.
I love my father better than thou canst.
3.Sp20Cordella
The praise were great, spoke from another’s mouth,
But it should seem your neighbors dwell far off.*
3.Sp21Ragan
Nay, here is one that will confirm as much
As she hath said, both for myself and her.
I say thou dost not wish my father’s good.
3.Sp23Leir
Exeunt* Leir, Gonorill, Ragan.
Peace, bastard imp,* no issue of King Leir!
I will not hear thee speak one tittle* more.
Call not me father if thou love thy life,
Nor these thy sisters once presume to name;
Look for no help henceforth from me nor mine;
Shift* as thou wilt and trust unto thyself.
My kingdom will I equally divide
’Twixt thy two sisters to their royal dower,*
And will bestow them worthy their deserts.
This done, because thou shalt not have the hope
To have a child’s part in the time to come,
I presently will dispossess* myself
And set up these upon my princely throne.
3.Sp26Cordella
Now whither—poor, forsaken—shall I go,
When mine own sisters triumph in my woe,
But unto Him* which doth protect the just?
In Him will poor Cordella put her trust.
These hands shall labor for to get my spending,*
And so I’ll live until my days have ending.
3.Sp27Perillus
Exit.
Oh, how I grieve to see my lord thus fond*
To dote so much upon vain flattering words.
Ah, if he but with good advice had weighed
The hidden tenor of her humble speech,
Reason to rage should not have given place,
Nor poor Cordella suffer such disgrace.
Scene 4* Video Sc. 4*
Enter the King of Gallia* with Mumford and three Nobles more.*4.Sp1Gallia
Dissuade me not, my lords, I am resolved
This next fair wind to sail for Brittany
Be not too prodigal in the wondrous praise
Of these three nymphs, the daughters of King Leir.
If present view do answer absent praise,*
And eyes allow of what our ears have heard,
And Fortune favor what I take in hand,*
I will return seized of* as rich a prize
As Jason when he won the golden fleece.*
4.Sp2Mumford*
Heavens grant you may: the match were full of honor
And well beseeming the young Gallian king.
I would your grace would favor me so much
As make me partner of your pilgrimage.*
I long to see the gallant* British dames
And feed mine eyes upon their rare perfections,
For till I know the contrary, I’ll say
Our dames in France are more fair than they.
4.Sp3Gallia
Lord Mumford, you have saved me a labor
In off’ring that which I did mean to ask,
And I most willingly accept your company.
Yet, first I will enjoin you to observe
Some few conditions which I shall propose.
4.Sp4Mumford
So that you do not tie mine eyes for looking
After the amorous glances of fair dames,
So that you do not tie my tongue from speaking,
My lips from kissing when occasion serves,
My hands from congees,* and my knees to bow
To gallant girls—which were a task more hard
Than flesh and blood is able to endure—
Command what else you please, I rest content.*
4.Sp5Gallia
To bind thee from a thing thou canst not leave
Were but a mean* to make thee seek it more,
And therefore speak,* look, kiss, salute for me;
In these myself am like to second* thee.
Now hear thy task: I charge thee, from the time
That first we set sail for the British shore,
To use no words of dignity* to me,
But, in the friendliest manner that thou canst,
Make use of me* as thy companion,
That no man shall mistrust us what we are.
4.Sp6Mumford
If that be all, I’ll fit your turn, I warrant you. I am some kin to the Blounts,* and, I think, the bluntest of all my kindred; therefore, if I be too blunt with you, thank yourself for praying me to be so.
4.Sp7Gallia
Exeunt.
Thy pleasant company* will make the way seem short.—
It resteth* now that in my absence hence
I do commit the government to you,
My trusty lords and faithful counsellors.
Time cutteth off the rest I have to say:
The wind blows fair, and I must needs away.*
Scene 5* Video Sc. 5*
Enter the King of Cornwall and his man, Servant 1, booted and spurred; a riding wand* and a letter in Cornwall’s hand Enter the King of Cambria, booted and spurred with a wand and a letter, and his man, Servant 25.Sp6Cambria
He looks at the letter.* Get a fresh horse, for, by my soul I swear,
I am past patience longer to forbear*
The wished sight of my beloved mistress,
Dear Ragan, stay and comfort of my life.
5.Sp7Servant 2
Cornwall and Cambria look one upon another and start to see each other* there.
To himself* Now what in God’s name doth my lord intend?
He thinks he ne’er shall come at’s journey’s end.
I would he had old Daedalus’ waxen wings*
That he might fly, so I might stay behind;
For ere we get to Troynovant,* I see,
He quite will tire himself, his horse, and me.*
5.Sp9Cambria
Brother of Cornwall, met in happy time.*
As to have met you in this place, my lord.
No doubt* it is about some great affairs
That makes you here so slenderly accompanied.*
5.Sp10Cornwall
To say the truth, my lord, it is no less.
And, for your part, some hasty wind of chance
Hath blown you hither thus upon the sudden.
5.Sp11Cambria
My lord, to break off further circumstances,
For at this time I cannot brook delays,*
Tell you your reason, I will tell you mine.*
5.Sp12Cornwall
In faith, content; and, therefore, to be brief,
For I am sure my haste’s as great as yours:
I am sent for to come unto King Leir,
Who, by these present letters, promiseth
His eldest daughter, lovely Gonorill,
To me in marriage and for present dowry
The lady’s love I long ago possessed,
But until now I never had the father’s.
5.Sp13Cambria
You tell me wonders, yet I will relate
Strange news, and henceforth we must brothers call.*
Witness these lines: his honorable age,
Being weary of the troubles of his crown,
His princely daughter Ragan will bestow
On me in marriage, with half his seigniories,*
Whom I would gladly have accepted of
5.Sp14Cornwall
If I have one half and you have the other,
Then between us we must needs have the whole.
5.Sp18Cornwall
What then is left for his third daughter’s dowry,
Lovely Cordella, whom the world admires?
5.Sp20Cornwall
Exeunt.*
’Twere pity such rare beauty should be hid*
Within the compass of a cloister’s wall;
But, howsoe’er,* if Leir’s words prove true,
It will be good, my lord, for me and you.
Scene 6* Video Sc. 6*
Enter Gonorill and Ragan6.Sp1Gonorill
Sister, when did you see Cordella last,
That pretty piece* that thinks none good enough
To speak to her because, sir-reverence,*
She hath a little beauty extraordinary?
6.Sp2Ragan
Since time my father warned her from his presence,
I never saw her that I can remember.
God give her joy of her surpassing beauty;
I think her dowry will be small enough.
6.Sp7Gonorill
Beshrew your fingers,* how right you can guess.
I tell you true, it cuts me to the heart.
6.Sp10Ragan
She were right fit to make a parson’s wife,
For they, men say, do love fair women well,
And many times do marry them with nothing.*
6.Sp13Gonorill
I cry you mercy, I mistook you much.
And she is far too stately* for the church:
She’ll lay her husband’s benefice on her back*
Even in one gown, if she may have her will.
6.Sp14Ragan
In faith, poor soul, I pity her a little.
Would she were less fair or more fortunate.
Well, I think long* until I see my Morgan,
The gallant Prince of Cambria, here arrive.
6.Sp15Gonorill
Enter Leir, Perillus, and others
And so do I until the Cornwall king
Present himself to consummate* my joys.
Peace, here cometh my father.
6.Sp16Leir
Cease, good my lords, and sue not to reverse
Our censure which is now irrevocable.
We have dispatchèd letters of contract
Unto the kings of Cambria and of Cornwall:
Our hand and seal* will justify no less.
Then do not so dishonor me, my lords,
As to make shipwreck of our kingly word.
I am as kind as is the pelican*
That kills itself to save her young ones’ lives,
And yet as jealous as the princely eagle
That kills her young ones if they do but dazzle
Upon the radiant splendor of the sun.*
Within this two days* I expect their coming.
Enter Kings of Cornwall and CambriaBut in good time they are arrived already.*
This haste of yours, my lords, doth testify
The fervent love you bear unto my daughters,
And think yourselves as welcome to King Leir
As ever Priam’s* children were to him.
6.Sp17Cornwall
My gracious lord, and father too, I hope,
Pardon for that I made no greater haste,
But were my horse as swift as was my will,
I long ere this had seen your majesty.
6.Sp18Cambria
No other ’scuse of absence can I frame
Than what my brother hath informed your grace;
For our undeserved* welcome, we do vow
Perpetually to rest at your command.
6.Sp19Cornwall
But you, sweet love, illustrious Gonorill,
The regent and the sovereign of my soul,
Is Cornwall welcome to your excellency?
6.Sp20Gonorill
As welcome as Leander was to Hero,*
Or brave Aeneas to the Carthage queen,*
So and more welcome is your grace to me.
6.Sp21Cambria
Oh, may my fortune prove no worse than his
Since heavens do know my fancy* is as much.
Dear Ragan, say if welcome unto thee;
All welcomes else will little comfort me.
6.Sp22Ragan
As gold is welcome to the covetous eye,
As sleep is welcome to the traveler,
As is fresh water to sea-beaten men,
Or moistened showers unto the parchèd ground,
Or anything more welcomer than this,
So and more welcome lovely Morgan is.
6.Sp23Leir
What resteth,* then, but that we consummate
The celebration of these nuptial rites?*
My kingdom I do equally divide.
Princes, draw lots, and take your chance as falls.
Then they draw lots.*These I resign as freely unto you
As erst* by true succession they were mine.
And here I do freely dispossess myself
And make you two my true adopted heirs.
Myself will sojourn* with my son of Cornwall
And take me to my prayers and my beads.*
I know my daughter Ragan will be sorry
Because I do not spend my days with her.
Would I were able to be with both at once:
They are the kindest girls in Christendom.
6.Sp24Perillus
I have been silent all this while, my lord,
To see if any worthier than myself
Would once have spoke in poor Cordella’s cause,
But love or fear ties silence to their tongues.
Oh, hear me speak for her my gracious lord,
Whose deeds have not deserved this ruthless doom,
As thus to disinherit her of all.
6.Sp25Leir
Exeunt omnes; Perillus remains.
Urge this no more an if* thou love thy life!
I say she is no daughter that doth scorn
To tell her father how she loveth him.
Whoever speaketh hereof to me again,
Come, let us in to celebrate with joy
The happy nuptials of these lovely pairs.
6.Sp26Perillus
Exit.
Ah, who so blind as they that will not see
The near approach of their own misery?
Poor lady, I extremely pity her,
And, whilst I live, each drop of my heart blood*
Will I strain forth* to do her any good.
Scene 7* Video Sc. 7*
Enter the King of Gallia and Mumford, disguised like pilgrims.7.Sp4Gallia
“My lord” again? Then let’s have nothing else
And so be ta’en for spies, and then ’tis well.
7.Sp5Mumford
Enter Cordella
ʼSwounds,* I could bite my tongue in two for anger!
For God’s sake name yourself some proper name.
7.Sp11Cordella
This is a day of joy unto my sisters,
Wherein they both are married unto kings,
And I, by birth as worthy as themselves,
Am turned into the world to seek my fortune.
How may I blame the fickle queen of chance*
That maketh me a pattern* of her power?
Ah, poor, weak maid, whose imbecility*
Is far unable to endure these brunts!*
Oh, father Leir, how dost thou wrong thy child
Who always was obedient to thy will!
But why accuse I Fortune* and my father?
No, no, it is the pleasure of my God,
And I do willingly embrace the rod.*
7.Sp14Mumford
7.Sp16Mumford
O brave! God willing, thou shalt have my custom,
For all the shirts and nightgear that I wear!
7.Sp25Gallia
Thou fairest creature, whatsoe’er thou art,
That ever any mortal eyes beheld,
Vouchsafe* to me, who have o’erheard thy woes,
To show the cause of these thy sad laments.
7.Sp30Cordella
Kind palmer, which so much desir’st to hear
The tragic tale of my unhappy youth,
Know this in brief: I am the hapless* daughter
Of Leir, sometime* king of Brittany.
7.Sp32Cordella
None but himself hath dispossessed himself,
And given all his kingdom to the kings
Of Cornwall and of Cambria with my sisters.
7.Sp34Cordella
He loved me not and therefore gave me nothing,
Only because I could not flatter him,
And in this day of triumph to my sisters
Doth Fortune triumph in my overthrow.
7.Sp35Gallia
Sweet lady, say there should come a king*—
As good as either of your sisters’ husbands—
To crave your love: would you accept of him?
7.Sp36Cordella
Oh, do not mock with those in misery;
Nor do not think, though Fortune have the power
To spoil* mine honor and debase my state,
That she hath any interest in my mind,
For if the greatest monarch on the earth
Should sue to me* in this extremity,
Except* my heart could love and heart could like
Better than any that I ever saw,
His great estate no more should move my mind
Than mountains move by blast of every wind.
7.Sp37Gallia
Think not, sweet nymph, ’tis holy palmer’s guise*
To grievèd souls fresh torments to devise;
Therefore, in witness of my true intent,
Let heaven and earth bear record of my words:
There is a young and lusty Gallian king,
So like to me as I am to myself,
That earnestly doth crave to have thy love
And join with thee in Hymen’s sacred bonds.*
7.Sp38Cordella
Aside The like to thee did ne’er these eyes behold.
Oh, live* to add new torments to my grief!
Why didst thou thus entrap me unawares?—
Ah, palmer, my estate doth not befit
A kingly marriage as the case now stands.
Whilom whenas* I lived in honor’s height,
A prince perhaps might postulate* my love;
Now misery, dishonor, and disgrace
Hath light* on me, and quite reversed the case.
Thy king will hold thee wise if thou surcease*
The suit whereas no dowry will ensue.*
Then be advisèd, palmer, what to do:
Cease for thy king, seek for thyself to woo.*
7.Sp42Cordella
Oh, yes, I can,* and happy if I might.
I’ll hold thy palmer’s staff* within my hand
And think it is the scepter of a queen;*
Sometime I’ll set thy bonnet* on my head
And think I wear a rich imperial crown;
Sometime I’ll help thee in thy holy prayers
And think I am with thee in paradise:
Thus I’ll mock Fortune as she mocketh me,
And never will my lovely choice repent,
For having thee, I shall have all content.
7.Sp43Gallia
Aside ’Twere sin to hold her longer in suspense
Since that my soul hath vowed she shall be mine.—
Ah, dear Cordella, cordial* to my heart,
I am no palmer as I seem to be
But hither come in this unknown disguise
To view th’admirèd beauty of those eyes.
I am the king of Gallia,* gentle maid,
Although thus slenderly accompanied,*
And yet thy vassal* by imperious Love,
And sworn to serve thee everlastingly.
7.Sp44Cordella
Whate’er you be, of high or low descent,
All’s one to me; I do request but this:
That as I am, you will accept of me,
And I will have you whatsoe’er you be.
Yet well I know you come of royal race;
I see such sparks of honor in your face.
7.Sp45Mumford
Have palmers’ weeds such power to win fair ladies?*
Faith, then I hope the next that falls* is mine.
Upon condition I no worse might speed,
I would forever wear a palmer’s weed.*
I like an honest and plain-dealing wench
That swears, without exceptions, “I will have you”.
These foppets* that know not whether to love a man or no—except they first go ask their mothers’
leave—by this hand, I hate them ten times worse than poison.
7.Sp48Gallia
Exeunt.
It shall be so because the world shall say,
“King Leir’s three daughters were wedded in one day”.
The celebration of this happy chance
We will defer until we come to France.
Scene 8* Video Sc. 8*
Enter Perillus alone8.Sp1Perillus
Exit.
The king hath dispossessed himself of all,*
Those to advance which scarce will give him thanks.
His youngest daughter he hath turned away,
And no man knows what is become of her.
He sojourns* now in Cornwall with the eldest,
Who flattered him until she did obtain
That at his hands which now she doth possess;
And, now she sees he hath no more to give,
It grieves her heart to see her father live.
Oh, whom should man trust in this wicked age
When children thus against their parents rage?
But he, the mirror of mild patience,*
Puts up all wrongs and never gives reply,
Yet shames she not, in most opprobrious sort,*
To call him “fool” and “dotard” to his face,
And sets her parasites of purpose* oft
In scoffing-wise* to offer him disgrace.
When parents are condemnèd of the child!
His pension she hath half restrained from him
And will, ere long, the other half, I fear,
For she thinks nothing is bestowed in vain
But that which doth her father’s life maintain.
Trust not alliance,* but trust strangers rather,
Since daughters prove disloyal to the father.
Well, I will counsel him the best I can.
Would I were able to redress* his wrong!
Yet what I can unto my utmost power
He shall be sure of to the latest* hour.
Scene 9* Video Sc. 9*
Enter Gonorill and Skalliger9.Sp1Gonorill
I prithee, Skalliger, tell me what thou think’st:
Could any woman of our* dignity
Endure such quips and peremptory taunts*
As I do daily from my doting father?
Doth’t not suffice that I him keep of alms*
Who is not able for to keep himself,
But, as if he were our better, he should think
To check and snap me up* at every word?
I cannot make me a new-fashioned gown,
And set it forth with more than common cost,
Is sure to give a senseless check* for it.
I cannot make a banquet extraordinary*
To grace myself* and spread my name abroad
But he, old fool, is captious* by and by,
And saith the cost would well suffice for twice.
Judge then, I pray, what reason is’t that I
Should stand alone charged with his vain expense*
And that my sister Ragan should go free,
To whom he gave as much as unto me?
I prithee, Skalliger, tell me, if thou know,
9.Sp2Skalliger
Your many favors still bestowed on me
Bind me in duty to advise your grace
How you may soonest remedy this ill.
The large allowance which he hath from you
Is that which makes him so forget himself;
Therefore, abridge it half and you shall see
That, having less, he will more thankful be,
For why* abundance maketh us forget
The fountains whence the benefits do spring.
9.Sp3Gonorill
Exit Gonorill.
Well, Skalliger, for thy kind advice herein,
I will not be ungrateful if I live.
I have restrainèd half his portion already*
And I will presently restrain the other,
That, having no means to relieve himself,
He may go seek elsewhere for better help.
9.Sp4Skalliger
Exit.*
Go, viperous woman,* shame to all thy sex,
The heavens no doubt will punish thee for this.
And me, a villain that, to curry favor,
Have given the daughter counsel ’gainst the father.
But us the world* doth this experience give:
That he that cannot flatter cannot live.
Scene 10* Video Sc. 10*
Enter King of Cornwall, Leir, Perillus, and Nobles10.Sp5Cornwall
Enter Gonorill
Comfort yourself, father, here comes your daughter,
Who much will grieve, I know, to see you sad.
10.Sp7Cornwall
My Gonorill, you come in wishèd time
To put your father from these pensive dumps.
In faith, I fear that all things go not well.
10.Sp8Gonorill
What, do you fear that I have angered him?
Hath he complained of me unto my lord?
I’ll provide him a piece of bread and cheese,*
Than carry tales from one unto another.
’Tis all his practice* for to kindle strife
’Twixt you, my lord, and me your loving wife.
But I will take an order, if I can,
10.Sp9Cornwall
Sweet, be not angry in a partial* cause:
He ne’er complained* of thee in all his life.—
10.Sp10Leir
Alas, not I. Poor soul, she breeds young bones,*
And that is it makes her so touchy sure.
10.Sp11Gonorill
Exit Cornwall.
Exit Gonorill.
What, “breeds young bones”—already! You will make
An honest woman of me then, belike.*
That seeketh thus his own child to defame?
10.Sp14Leir
He weeps.*
Thus, say or do the best that e’er I can,
’Tis wrested* straight into another sense.
This punishment my heavy sins deserve,
And more than this ten thousand thousand times,
Else agèd Leir them could never find
Cruel to him to whom he hath been kind.
Why do I overlive* myself, to see
The course of nature quite reversed in me?
Ah, gentle Death, if ever any wight*
Did wish thy presence with a perfect zeal,*
Then come, I pray thee, even with all my heart,
And end my sorrows with thy fatal dart.*
10.Sp17Perillus
One who doth bear as great a share of grief,
As if it were my dearest father’s case.*
10.Sp18Leir
Ah, good my friend, how ill art thou advised
For to consort with miserable* men.
Go learn to flatter where thou mayst in time
Get favor ’mongst the mighty, and so climb;
For now I am so poor and full of want
As that I ne’er can recompense thy love.
10.Sp19Perillus
What’s got by flattery doth not long endure,
And men in favor live not most secure.
My conscience tells me if I should forsake* you,
I were the hateful’st excrement* on the earth,
Which well do know, in course of former time,
How good my lord hath been to me and mine.
10.Sp25Perillus
Alas, my lord, there were no reason why
You should have such a thought to give it me.
10.Sp26Leir
Nay, if thou talk of reason, then be mute,
For with good reason I can thee confute.*
If they, which first by nature’s sacred law
Do owe to me the tribute* of their lives,
If they to whom I always have been kind
And bountiful beyond comparison,
If they for whom I have undone myself
And brought my age unto this extreme want,
Do now reject, condemn, despise, abhor me,
What reason moveth thee to sorrow for me?
10.Sp27Perillus
Where reason fails let tears confirm my love,
And speak how much your passions do me move.
Ah, good my lord, condemn not all for one:
You have two daughters left to whom I know
You shall be welcome, if you please to go.
10.Sp28Leir
Oh, how thy words add sorrow to my soul,
To think of my unkindness* to Cordella,
Whom causeless I did dispossess of all
Upon th’unkind* suggestions of her sisters;
And for her sake I think this heavy doom*
Is fallen on me, and not without desert.
Yet unto Ragan was I always kind,
And gave to her the half of all I had.
It may be, if I should to her repair,
She would be kinder and entreat me fair.*
10.Sp29Perillus
Exeunt.
No doubt she would, and practise, ere’t be long,
By force of arms for to redress your wrong.
Scene 11* Video Sc. 11*
Enter Ragan alone11.Sp1Ragan
Exit.
How may I bless the hour of my nativity
How may I thank kind Fortune that vouchsafes*
To all my actions such desired event!
I rule the king* of Cambria as I please;
The states* are all obedient to my will
And look whate’er I say, it shall be so;
Not anyone that dareth answer no.
My eldest sister lives in royal state
And wanteth nothing fitting her degree;
Yet hath she such a cooling card* withal
As that her honey savoreth much of gall.*
My father with her is quartermaster* still,
And many times restrains her of her will,*
But, if he were with me, and served me so,
I’d send him packing* somewhere else to go:
I’d entertain him with such slender cost
That he should quickly wish to change his host.
Scene 12* Video Sc. 12*
Enter Cornwall, Gonorill, and attendants12.Sp1Cornwall
Ah, Gonorill,* what dire unhappy chance
Hath sequestered* thy father from our presence
That no report can yet be heard of him?
Exceeding far the bounds of patience,
Else all the world shall never me persuade
He would forsake us without notice made.
12.Sp2Gonorill
Alas, my lord, whom doth it touch so near,
Or who hath interest in this grief but I,
Whom sorrow had brought to her longest home,*
I know he is but stol’n upon* my sister
At unawares to see her how she fares
And spend a little time with her, to note
How all things go and how she likes her choice;
And when occasion serves, he’ll steal from her
And unawares return to us again.*
Therefore, my lord, be frolic* and resolve
To see my father here again ere long.*
12.Sp3Cornwall*
Exit Cornwall with attendants.
I hope so too, but yet to be more sure
I’ll send a post immediately to know
Whether he be arrivèd there or no.
12.Sp4Gonorill
Enter the Messenger* that should go to Cambria, with a letter in his hand.
She opens them.*
But I will intercept the messenger
And temper* him, before he doth depart,
With sweet persuasions and with sound rewards,*
That his report shall ratify* my speech
And make my lord cease further to inquire.
If he be not gone to my sister’s court,
As sure my mind presageth that he is,
He haply* may, by travelling unknown ways,
Fall sick, and as a common passenger*
Be dead and buried. Would God it were so well,
For then there were no more to do but this:
“He went away, and none knows where he is”.
But say he be in Cambria with the king
And there exclaim against me,* as he will;
I know he is as welcome to my sister
As water is into a broken ship.
Well, after him I’ll send such thunderclaps
Of slander, scandal, and invented tales
That all the blame shall be removed from me
And, unperceived, rebound upon himself.
Thus with one nail another I’ll expel,*
And make the world judge that I used him well.
12.Sp10Messenger
Madam, I hope your grace will stand between me and my neck-verse* if I be called in question for opening the king’s letters.
12.Sp12Messenger
12.Sp13Gonorill
He that hangs thee were better hang his father,
Or that but hurts thee in the least degree.
I tell thee, we make great account of thee.*
12.Sp14Messenger
I am o’erjoyed; I surfeit of sweet words.*
Kind Queen, had I a hundred lives, I would
Spend ninety-nine of them for you for that word.
12.Sp16Messenger
Flings him a purse.
That one life is not too dear for my good queen: this sword, this buckler,* this head, this heart, these hands, arms, legs, tripes, bowels, and all the members* else whatsoever, are at your dispose. Use me, trust me, command me; if I fail in
anything, tie me to a dung cart and make a scavenger’s horse* of me, and whip me so long as I have any skin on my back.
12.Sp18Messenger
12.Sp20Messenger
And as bad a tongue, if it be set on it, as any oysterwife* at Billingsgate* hath. Why, I have made many of my neighbors forsake their houses with railing* upon them, and go dwell elsewhere, and so, by my means, houses have been good cheap
in our parish. My tongue being well whetted* with choler* is more sharp than a razor of Palermo.*
12.Sp22Messenger
Commend me not, sweet Queen, before you try me.*
As my deserts are, so do think of me.*
12.Sp23Gonorill
Well said. Then this is thy trial: instead of carrying the king’s letters to my father,
carry thou these letters to my sister, which contain matter quite contrary to the
other. There shall she be given to understand that my father hath detracted* her, given out slanderous speeches against her, and that he hath most intolerably
abused me, set my lord and me at variance,* and made mutinies amongst the commons.*
These things—although it be not so—
Yet thou must affirm them to be true
With oaths and protestations as will serve
To drive my sister out of love with him
And cause my will accomplishèd to be.
This do, thou winn’st my favor forever,
And makst a highway of preferment to thee
And all thy friends.*
12.Sp24Messenger
12.Sp27Gonorill
If my sister thinketh convenient, as my letters importeth, to make him away,* hast thou the heart to effect it?
12.Sp28Messenger
He kisses the paper.
Exeunt.
Few words are best in so small a matter;
These are but trifles. By this book I will.
Scene 13* Video Sc. 13*
Enter Cordella alone13.Sp1Cordella
Exit.
I have been over-negligent* today
In going to the temple of my God
To render thanks for all his benefits
Which he miraculously hath bestowed on me
In raising me out of my mean estate
Whenas I was devoid of worldly friends
And placing me in such a sweet content
As far exceeds the reach of my deserts.
My kingly husband, mirror of his time*
For zeal, for justice, kindness, and for care
To God, his subjects, me, and common weal,
I cannot wish the thing that I do want,
I cannot want the thing but I may have,
Save only this which I shall ne’er obtain:
My father’s love. Oh, this I ne’er shall gain.
I would abstain from any nutriment
And pine* my body to the very bones;
Barefoot, I would on pilgrimage set forth
Unto the furthest quarters of the earth,
And all my lifetime would I sackcloth* wear,
And mourning-wise pour dust upon my head,*
So he but to forgive me once would please,
That his grey hairs might go to heaven in peace.
And yet I know not how I him offended,
Or wherein justly I have deserved blame.
O sisters!* You are much to blame in this:
It was not he but you that did me wrong.
Yet God forgive both him and you and me,
E’en as I do in perfect charity.*
I will to church* and pray unto my savior
That, ere I die, I may obtain his* favor.
Scene 14* Video Sc. 14*
Enter Leir and Perillus faintly14.Sp4Leir
But it fits worse that I should bring thee forth,
That had no cause to come along with me,
And never ease thy fainting limbs a whit.*
Thou hast left all—ay, all—to come with me,
And I, for all, have nought to guerdon* thee.
14.Sp5Perillus
Cease, good my lord, to aggravate my woes
With these kind words, which cut my heart in two
To think your will should want the power to do.*
14.Sp7Perillus
Enter the Prince of Cambria, Ragan, and Nobles; look upon them and whisper together.
That honorable title will I give
Unto my lord so long as I do live.
Oh, be of comfort, for I see the place
Whereas* your daughter keeps her residence.
And, lo, in happy time the Cambrian prince
Is here arrived to gratify* our coming.
14.Sp9Perillus
Then let me tell it, if you please, my lord.
’Tis shame for them that were the cause thereof.
14.Sp10Cambria
What two old men are those that seem so sad?
Methinks I should remember well their looks.
14.Sp11Ragan
Exeunt all but Ragan.
No, I mistake not, sure it is my father.
Aside I must dissemble kindness* now of force.
She runneth to him, and kneels down, saying:Father, I bid you welcome, full of grief,
To see your grace used thus unworthily,
And ill-befitting for your reverend age
To come on foot a journey so indurable.*
Oh, what disaster chance* hath been the cause
To make your cheeks so hollow, spare,* and lean?—
He cannot speak for weeping.* For God’s love, come,
Let us refresh him with some needful things
And at more leisure we may better know
Whence springs the ground of this unlooked-for woe.
14.Sp13Ragan
Exit.
Comes he to me with finger in the eye*
To tell a tale against my sister here,
Whom I do know* he greatly hath abused?
And now, like a contentious crafty wretch,
He first begins for to complain himself,
Whenas himself is in the greatest fault.
I’ll not be partial in my sister’s cause,
Nor yet believe his doting vain* reports,
Who, for a trifle, safely I dare say,
Upon a spleen* is stolen thence away,
And here, forsooth, he hopeth to have harbor
And to be moaned and made on* like a child.
But ere’t be long, his coming he shall curse,
And truly say he came from bad to worse.
Yet will I make fair weather* to procure
Convenient means, and then I’ll strike it sure.
Scene 15**Video Sc. 15*
Enter Messenger alone15.Sp1Messenger
She opens the letters.
Now happily I am arrivèd here
Before the stately palace* of the Cambrian king.
If Leir be here safe-seated and in rest,
To rouse him from it I will do my best.
Enter RaganNow, bags of gold, your virtue is, no doubt,
To make me in my message bold and stout.—
The king of heaven preserve* your majesty,
And send your highness everlasting reign.
15.Sp5Messenger
I did leave her at my parting in good health.
She reads the letter, frowns, and stamps.
Now red as scarlet, now as pale as ash;
See how she knits her brow, and bites her lips,
And stamps, and makes a dumbshow* of disdain
Mixed with revenge and violent extremes.
15.Sp6Ragan
Aside Alas, poor soul, and hath he used her thus?
And is he now come hither with intent
To set divorce betwixt my lord and me?
Doth he give out that he doth hear report
That I do rule my husband as I list,
And therefore means to alter so the case
That I shall know my lord to be my head?*
Well, it were best for him to take good heed,
Or I will make him hop without a head
For his presumption, dotard that he is.
In Cornwall he hath made such mutinies—
First, setting of the king against the queen,
Then stirring up the commons ’gainst the king—
That had he there continued any longer,
He had been called in question for his fact.*
So upon that occasion thence he fled,
And comes thus slyly stealing unto us,
And now already since his coming hither,
My lord and he are grown in such a league
That I can have no conference with his grace.
I fear he doth already intimate
Some forgèd cavillations* ’gainst my state.
’Tis therefore best to cut him off in time,
Lest slanderous rumors, once abroad dispersed,
It is too late for them to be reversed.—
To the Messenger Friend, as the tenor of these letters shows,
My sister puts great confidence in thee.
15.Sp7Messenger
She never yet committed trust to me
But that, I hope, she found me always faithful.
So will I be to any friend of hers
That hath occasion to employ my help.
15.Sp9Messenger
Which never knew what melting pity meant.
I weigh no more the murd’ring of a man
Than I respect the cracking of a flea*
When I do catch her biting on my skin.
If you will have your husband or your father
Or both of them sent to another world,
Do but command me do’t: it shall be done.
15.Sp10Ragan
Exit Ragan.
It is enough; we make no doubt of thee.*
Meet us tomorrow, here, at nine o’clock.
Meanwhile, farewell,
She gives him a purse.And drink that for my sake.*
15.Sp11Messenger
Exit Messenger.
Ay, this is it will make me do the deed.
Oh, had I every day such customers,
This were the gainful’st trade in Christendom!
A purse of gold giv’n for a paltry stab!
Why, here’s a wench that longs to have a stab.
Well, I could give it her, and ne’er hurt her neither.*
Scene 16* Video Sc. 16*
Enter the King of Gallia and Cordella16.Sp1Gallia
When will these clouds of sorrow once disperse
And smiling joy triumph upon thy brow?
When will this scene of sadness have an end
And pleasant acts ensue to move delight?
When will my lovely queen cease to lament
And take some comfort to her grievèd thoughts?
If of thyself thou deignst* to have no care,
Yet pity me* whom thy grief makes despair.
16.Sp2Cordella
Oh, grieve not you, my lord, you have no cause.
Let not my passions move your mind a whit,*
For I am bound by nature to lament
For his ill will that life to me first lent.*
If so the stalk be drièd with disdain,
Withered and sere the branch must needs remain.*
16.Sp3Gallia
I am the stock and thou the lovely branch,
And from my root* continual sap shall flow
To make thee flourish with perpetual spring.
Forget thy father* and thy kindred now,
Since they forsake thee like inhumane* beasts.
Think they are dead since all their kindness dies,
And bury them where black oblivion lies.
Think not thou art the daughter of old Leir,
Who did unkindly* disinherit thee,
But think thou art the noble Gallian queen,
And wife to him that dearly loveth thee.
Let sorrow pack* and hide herself in hell.
16.Sp4Cordella
Not that I miss my country or my kin,
My old acquaintance or my ancient friends—
Doth any whit distemperate* my mind,
Knowing you, which are more dear to me
Than country, kin and all things else can be?
Yet pardon me, my gracious lord, in this,
For what can stop the course of nature’s power?
As easy is it for four-footed beasts
To stay* themselves upon the liquid air
And mount aloft into the element
And overstrip the feathered fowls in flight,
As easy is it for the slimy fish
To live and thrive without the help of water,
As easy is it for the blackamoor
To wash the tawny colour from his skin,*
Which all oppose against the course of nature,*
As I am able to forget my father.*
16.Sp5Gallia
Too kind a daughter for an unkind father!
Be of good comfort, for I will dispatch
Unto the king of Cornwall’s court, whereas*
Your father keepeth now his residence,
And in the kindest* manner him entreat
That, setting former grievances apart,
He will be pleased to come and visit us.
If no entreaty will suffice the turn,*
I’ll offer him the half of all my crown.
If that moves not, we’ll furnish out a fleet*
And sail to Cornwall for to visit him,
And there you shall be firmly reconciled
Scene 17* Video Sc. 17*
Enter Messenger alone17.Sp1Messenger
Enter Ragan
How many friends I purchase everywhere!
How many seek to creep into my favor,
And kiss their hands* and bend their knees to me!
No more, here comes the queen; now shall I know her mind,
17.Sp4Ragan
Well, keep thy word with me and thou shalt see
That of a poor man* I will make thee rich.
17.Sp5Messenger
I long to hear it; it might have been dispatched
If you had told me of it yesternight.*
17.Sp7Messenger
It is more strange that I am not by this
Beside myself with longing for to hear it.
Were it to meet the devil in his den
And try a bout with him for a scratched face,
I’d undertake it if you would but bid me.
17.Sp8Ragan
Ah, good my friend, that I should have thee do
Is such a thing as I do shame to speak,
Yet it must needs be done.*
17.Sp9Messenger
Gives him two purses.
I’ll speak it for thee, Queen; shall I kill thy father?
I know ’tis that, an if it be so, say.
17.Sp17Messenger
Oh, that I had ten hands by miracle,
I could tear ten in pieces with my teeth,*
So in my mouth you’d put a purse of gold.
But in what manner must it be effected?
17.Sp18Ragan
Tomorrow morning ere the break of day,
That is about some two miles from the court,
And promise them to meet them there myself
Because I must have private conference
About some news I have received from Cornwall.
This is enough, I know, they will not fail,
And then be ready for to play thy part,
Which done, thou mayst right easily escape
And no man once mistrust thee for the fact.*
But yet, before thou prosecute* the act,
Show him the letter which my sister sent;
There let him read his own indictment first,
And then proceed to execution.
But see thou faint* not, for they will speak fair.
17.Sp19Messenger
Exit Messenger.
Could he speak words as pleasing as the pipe
Of Mercury, which charmed the hundred eyes
Of watchful Argos* and enforced him sleep,
Yet here are words* so pleasing to my thoughts,
To the purseAs quite shall take away the sound of his.
17.Sp20Ragan
Exit.
About it then, and when thou hast dispatched,*
I’ll find a means to send thee after him.*
Scene 18* Video Sc. 18*
Enter Cornwall and Gonorill18.Sp1Cornwall
I wonder that the messenger doth stay*
Whom we dispatched for Cambria* so long since.
If that his answer do not please us well,
And he do show good reason for delay,*
I’ll teach him how to dally with his king,
And to detain us in such long suspense.*
18.Sp2Gonorill
My lord, I think the reason may be this:
My father means to come along with him
And, therefore, ’tis his pleasure he shall stay
For to attend upon him on the way.
18.Sp3Cornwall
Enter Servant*
It may be so, and therefore till I know
The truth thereof, I will suspend my judgment.
18.Sp4Servant 1
An’t* like your grace, there is an ambassador
Arrived from Gallia and craves admittance to your majesty.
18.Sp5Cornwall
From Gallia? What should his message
Hither import? Is not your father haply
Gone thither?* Well, whatsoe’er it be,
Bid him come in; he shall have audience.
Enter Ambassador*What news from Gallia? Speak, ambassador.
18.Sp6Ambassador
The noble king and queen of Gallia first salute,
By me, their honorable father, my lord Leir;
Next, they commend them kindly to your graces,
As those whose welfare they entirely wish.
Letters I have to deliver to my lord Leir,
And presents too, if I might speak with him.
18.Sp7Gonorill
If you might speak with him? Why, do you think
We are afraid that you should speak with him?*
18.Sp9Cornwall
Indeed, my friend, upon some urgent cause
He is at this time absent from the court,
But if a day or two you here repose
’Tis very likely you shall have him here,
Or else have certain notice where he is.
18.Sp12Gonorill
Aside It may be then ’twill not be done in haste.—
To the Ambassador How doth my sister brook the air of France?*
18.Sp13Ambassador
Exceeding well, and never sick one hour
Since first she set her foot upon the shore.
18.Sp16Gonorill
Didst thou not say that she was ever sick
Since the first hour that she arrivèd there?
18.Sp24Ambassador
Amen to that, but God release her grief
And send* her father in a better mind
Than to continue always so unkind.
18.Sp27Gonorill
Should I be a mean to exasperate his wrath
Against my sister, whom I love so dear? No, no.
18.Sp35Gonorill
Exeunt.
Aside It shows thy understanding to be blind,*
And that thou hadst need of an interpreter.
Well, I will know thy message ere’t be long,
And find a mean to cross it, if I can.
Scene 19* Video Sc. 19*
Enter Leir and Perillus Leir pulls out a book* and sits down.19.Sp5Perillus
She’ll not be long, I warrant you, my lord,
But say a couple of these they call good-fellows*
Should step out of a hedge and set upon us.
We were in good case for to answer them.*
19.Sp7Perillus
I fear we scant should stand upon our legs.*
But how should we do to defend ourselves?
19.Sp8Leir
They fall both asleep.*
Enter the Messenger, or murderer, with two daggers in his hands
Even pray to God* to bless us from their hands,
For fervent prayer much ill hap withstands.
19.Sp10Messenger
They wake and rise.*
Were it not a mad jest* if two or three of my profession should meet me and lay me down in a ditch and play
rob-thief with me and perforce take my gold away from me whilst I act this stratagem,
and by this means the gray-beards should escape? Faith, when I were at liberty again I would make no more to do but
go to the next tree and there hang myself.
Sees them and starts**But stay, methinks my youths* are here already
And with pure zeal have prayed themselves asleep.
I think they know to what intent they came
And are provided for another world.
He takes their books away.Now could I stab them bravely, while they sleep,
And in a manner put them to no pain,
And doing so, I showed them mighty friendship,
For fear of death is worse than death itself.
But that my sweet queen willed me for to show
This letter to them ere I did the deed.
Mass,* they begin to stir. I’ll stand aside;
So shall I come upon them unawares.*
19.Sp16Perillus
I pray, my lord, what was the effect of it?*
I may go near to guess what it portends.*
19.Sp18Leir
They reel.*
Methought my daughters, Gonorill and Ragan,
Stood both before me with such grim aspects,*
Each brandishing a falchion* in their hands,
Ready to lop a limb off where it fell,
And in their other hands a naked poniard,*
Wherewith they stabbed me in a hundred places,
And, to their thinking, left me there for dead;
But then my youngest daughter, fair Cordella,
Came with a box of balsam* in her hand,
And poured it into my bleeding wounds,
By whose good means I was recovered well,
In perfect health, as erst* I was before;
And with the fear of this I did awake,
And yet for fear my feeble joints do quake.
19.Sp23Messenger
He shows his purses.
Messenger takes Leir’s purse.
You should have prayed before, while it was time,
And then perhaps you might have ’scaped my hands;
But you, like faithful watchmen, fell asleep
The whilst I came and took your halberds* from you
He shows their books.And now you want your weapons of defence.
How have you any hope to be delivered?*
This comes because you have no better stay*
But fall asleep when you should watch and pray.*
19.Sp29Perillus
Takes Perillus’ purse, and weighs them both in his hands
Puts them in his pocket*
Here, take mine too, and wish with all my heart,
To do thee pleasure, it were twice as much.
19.Sp31Leir
They proffer* to go.*
Why then, farewell, an if thou have occasion
In anything to use me to the queen,*
’Tis like enough that I can pleasure thee.*
19.Sp32Messenger
He proffers to go*
Do you hear? Do you hear, sir?
If I had occasion to use you to the queen,
Would you do one thing for me, I should ask?*
19.Sp34Messenger
Hear you, sir? Hear you? Pray, a word with you.
Methinks a comely honest ancient man
I know when I shall come to try this gear,*
You will recant* from all that you have said.
19.Sp35Perillus
Mistrust not him, but try him when thou wilt;*
He is her father, therefore may do much.
19.Sp36Messenger
They proffer to go out.*
I know he is, and therefore mean to try him.
You are his friend too; I must try you both.
19.Sp38Messenger
Stay, gray-beards, then, and prove men of your words.
The queen hath tied me by a solemn oath
Here in this place to see you both dispatched.
Now, for the safeguard of my conscience,
Do me the pleasure for to kill yourselves;*
So shall you save me labor for to do it,
And prove yourselves true old men of your words.
And here I vow, in sight of all the world,
I ne’er will trouble you whilst I live again.
19.Sp39Leir
Affright us not with terror, good my friend,
Nor strike such fear into our agèd hearts.
Play not the cat which dallieth with the mouse
And on a sudden maketh her a prey,
But if thou art marked for the man of death
To me and to my Damon,* tell me plain,
That we may be preparèd for the stroke
And make ourselves fit for the world to come.*
19.Sp40Messenger
I am the last of any mortal race
That e’er your eyes are likely to behold,
And hither sent of purpose* to this place
To give a final period to your days,
Which are so wicked* and have lived so long
That your own children seek to short* your life.
19.Sp42Messenger
19.Sp43Leir
Because my daughter, whom I have offended,
And at whose hands I have deserved as ill
As ever any father did of child,
Is queen of France, no thanks at all to me,
But unto God, who my injustice sees.
If it be so that she doth seek revenge,
As with good reason she may justly do,
I will most willingly resign my life:
A sacrifice to mitigate her ire.
I never will entreat thee to forgive,
Because I am unworthy for to live.
Therefore speak soon, and I will soon make speed,
Whether Cordella willed thee do this deed?
19.Sp44Messenger
As I am a perfect gentleman,* thou speakst French to me.
I never heard Cordella’s name before,
Nor never was in France in all my life;
I never knew thou hadst a daughter there
To whom thou didst prove so unkind a churl;*
But thy own tongue declares that thou hast been
A vile old wretch, and full of heinous sin.
19.Sp45Leir
Ah no, my friend, thou are* deceivèd much,
For her except,* whom I confess I wronged
Through doting frenzy and o’erjealous love,
There lives not any under heaven’s bright eye*
That can convict me of impiety.
And, therefore, sure thou dost mistake the mark,*
For I am in true peace with all the world.
19.Sp46Messenger
You are the fitter for the king of Heaven;
And, therefore, for to rid thee of suspense,
Know thou the queens of Cambria and Cornwall,
Thy own* two daughters, Gonorill and Ragan,
Appointed me to massacre thee here.
Why wouldst thou then persuade me that thou art
In charity with all the world but now,
That they have hired me t’abridge thy fate?*
Oh, fie upon such vile dissembling breath
That would deceive even at the point of death.
19.Sp48Messenger
Fear nothing, man, thou art but in a dream,
And thou shalt never wake until doomsday.*
By then, I hope, thou wilt have slept enough.
19.Sp51Leir
Oh, but assure me by some certain token
That my two daughters hired thee to this deed.
If I were once resolved of that, then I
Would wish no longer life, but crave to die.
19.Sp53Leir
Thunder and lightning*
Swear not by heaven for fear of punishment:
The heavens are guiltless of such heinous acts.*
19.Sp58Messenger
Leir and Perillus bless themselves.
Aside I would that word were in his belly again:*
It hath frighted me even to the very heart.
This old man is some strong magician:
His words have turned my mind from this exploit.—
Then neither heavens, earth, nor hell be witness,
But let this paper witness for them all.
He shows Gonorill’s letter.Aside Shall I relent, or shall I prosecute?
Shall I resolve, or were I best recant?
To whom I have already passed my word.
Oh, but my conscience for this act doth tell,
I get heaven’s hate, earth’s scorn, and pains of hell.
19.Sp59Perillus
O just Jehovah, whose almighty power
Doth govern all things in this spacious world,
How canst thou suffer such outrageous acts
To be committed without just revenge?
Oh, viperous generation and accursed,
To seek his blood whose blood did make them first!*
19.Sp60Leir
Ah, my true friend in all extremity,
Let us submit us to the will of God.
Things past all sense, let us not seek to know:
It is God’s will, and therefore must be so.
My friend, I am preparèd for the stroke;
Strike when thou wilt, and I forgive thee here,
Even from the very bottom of my heart.
19.Sp62Leir
Farewell, Perillus, even the truest friend
That ever lived in adversity.
The latest* kindness I’ll request of thee
Is that thou go unto my daughter Cordella
And carry her her father’s latest blessing.
Withal* desire her that she will forgive me,
For I have wronged her without any cause.—
Now, Lord, receive me, for I come to thee,
And die, I hope, in perfect charity.*—
Dispatch, I pray thee; I have lived too long.
19.Sp63Messenger
Ay, but you are unwise to send an errand
By him that never meaneth* to deliver it.
Why, he must go along with you to heaven;
It were not good you should go all alone.
19.Sp64Leir
He shows a bag of money
No doubt he shall, when, by the course of nature,
He must surrender up his due to death;
But that time shall not come till God permit.
19.Sp68Perillus
I, who have borne you company in life,
Most willingly will bear a share in death.
It skilleth not for me,* my friend, a whit,
Nor for a hundred such as thou and I.
19.Sp69Messenger
Marry, but it doth, sir, by your leave: your good days are past. Though it be no matter for you, ’tis a matter for me; proper men are not so rife.*
19.Sp70Perillus
Oh, but beware how thou dost lay thy hand
Upon the high anointed of the Lord.*
Oh, be advisèd ere thou dost begin:
Dispatch me straight, but meddle not with him.
19.Sp71Leir
Friend, thy commission* is to deal with me,
And I am he that hath deservèd all.
The plot was laid to take away my life,
And here it is: I do entreat thee take it.
Yet, for my sake, and as thou art a man,
Spare this my friend that hither with me came.
I brought him forth whereas* he had not been
But for good will to bear me company.
He left his friends, his country, and his goods,
And came with me in most extremity.
Oh, if he should miscarry here and die,
Who is the cause of it, but only I?
19.Sp73Leir
Oh no, ’tis I. Oh, had I now to give thee
The monarchy of all the spacious world
To save his life, I would bestow it on thee;
But I have nothing but these tears and prayers,
And the submission of a bended knee.
Leir kneels.Oh, if all this to mercy move thy mind,
Spare him! In heaven thou shalt like* mercy find.
19.Sp74Messenger
Aside I am as hard to be moved as another, and yet methinks the strength of their persuasions
stirs me a little.*
19.Sp75Perillus
It thunders.* Messenger quakes, and lets fall the dagger next to Perillus.
My friend, if fear of the almighty power
Have power to move thee, we have said enough,
But if thy mind be movable with gold,
We have not presently* to give it thee.
Yet to thyself thou mayst do greater good
To keep thy hands still undefiled from blood,
For do but well consider with thyself,
When thou hast finished this outrageous act,
What horror still will haunt thee for the deed.
Think this again, that they which would incense
Thee for to be the butcher of their father,
When it is done, for fear it should be known
Would make a means to rid thee from the world.
Oh, then art thou forever tied in chains
Of everlasting torments to endure,
Even in the hottest hole of grisly hell,
Such pains as never mortal tongue can tell.*
19.Sp76Leir
Messenger lets fall the other dagger.
Oh, heavens be thanked, he will spare my friend!
Now, when thou wilt, come make an end of me.
19.Sp77Perillus
Oh, happy sight! He means to save my lord.
The king of heaven continue this good mind.
19.Sp81Messenger
Exit Messenger.*
Beshrew you* for it; you have put it in me!
The parlousest* old men that e’er I heard!
Well, to be flat,* I’ll not meddle with you;
Here I found you, and here I’ll leave you.
If any ask you why the case so stands,*
Say that your tongues were better than your hands.
19.Sp82Perillus
Farewell. If ever we together meet,
It shall go hard, but I will thee re-greet.*—
Courage, my lord, the worst is overpast;*
Let us give thanks to God, and hie us* hence.
19.Sp83Leir
Thou art deceived, for I am past the best
And know not whither for to go from hence.
Death had been better welcome unto me
Than longer life to add more misery.
19.Sp84Perillus
It were not good to return from whence we came,
Unto your daughter Ragan back again.
Now let us go to France, unto Cordella,
Your youngest daughter; doubtless she will succor* you.
19.Sp85Leir
Oh, how can I persuade myself of that,
To whom I was so kind, as that my gifts
Might make them love me, if ’twere nothing else?
19.Sp86Perillus
No worldly gifts, but grace from God on high,
Doth nourish virtue and true charity.
Remember well what words Cordella spake
What time you asked her how she loved your grace.
As ought a child to bear unto her father.
19.Sp88Perillus
That makes not her love to be any less
If she do love you as a child should do.
You have tried two; try one more for my sake.
I’ll ne’er entreat you further trial make.
Remember well the dream you had of late,
And think what comfort it foretells to us.
19.Sp89Leir
Exeunt.
Come, truest friend that ever man possessed,
I know thou counselst all things for the best.
If this third daughter play a kinder part,
It comes of God, and not of my desert.*
Scene 20* Video Sc. 20*
Enter the Gallian Ambassador alone.20.Sp1Ambassador
Exit.
There is of late news come unto the court
That old Lord Leir remains in Cambria.
I’ll hie me thither presently to impart
My letters and my message unto him.
I never was less welcome to a place
In all my lifetime than I have been hither,
Especially unto the stately queen
Who would not cast one gracious look on me,
But still, with louring* and suspicious eyes,
Would take exceptions* at each word I spake,
To know what my embassage did import.*
But she is like to hop without her hope,*
And in this matter for to want her will,
Though, by report, she’ll have’t in all things else.
Well, I will post away for Cambria;
Within these few days I hope to be there.
Scene 21* Video Sc. 21*
Enter Gallia, Cordella and Mumford21.Sp1Gallia
By this,* our father understands our mind
And our kind greetings sent to him of late;
Therefore, my mind presageth ere’t be long,
We shall receive from Britain happy news.
21.Sp3Gallia
Fear not, my love, since that we know the worst,
The last means helps if that we miss the first.*
If he’ll not come to Gallia unto us,
Then we will sail to Britain unto him.
21.Sp4Mumford
21.Sp6Mumford
21.Sp8Mumford
21.Sp9Cordella
21.Sp13Mumford
More bobs, more;* put them in still! They’ll serve instead of bombast;* yet put not in too many, lest the seams crack and they fly out amongst you again.
You must not think to outface me so easily in my mistress’ quarrel,* who if I see once again, ten team of horses shall not draw me away till I have full
and whole possession.
21.Sp16Mumford
Well, you are two to one; I’ll give you over;* and since I see you so pleasantly disposed, which indeed is but seldom seen, I’ll
claim a promise of you which you shall not deny me, for promise is debt, and by this hand* you promised it me, therefore you owe it me, and you shall pay it me, or I’ll sue you upon an action
of unkindness.
21.Sp18Mumford
21.Sp19Gallia
Faith, in this motion* I will join with thee,
And be a mediator* to my queen.—
Prithee, my love, let this match* go forward;
My mind foretells ’twill be a lucky voyage.
21.Sp20Cordella
Entreaty needs not where you may command;*
So you be pleased,* I am right well content.
Yet as* the sea I much desire to see,
So am I most unwilling to be seen.
21.Sp23Mumford
And I the third. Oh, I am overjoyed!
See what love is, which getteth with a word
What all the world besides could ne’er obtain!
But what disguises* shall we have, my lord?
21.Sp24Gallia
Exeunt.
Faith, thus: my queen and I will be disguised
Like a plain country couple, and you shall be Roger,*
Our man, and wait upon us. Or, if you will,
You shall go first, and we will wait on you.
Scene 22* Video Sc. 22*
Enter Cambria and Ragan, with Nobles*22.Sp1Cambria*
Exit Nobles.
What strange mischance or unexpected hap
Hath thus deprived us of our father’s presence?
Can no man tell us what’s become of him,
With whom we did converse not two days since?
My lords, let everywhere light-horse* be sent
To scour about through all our regiment;*
Dispatch a post* immediately to Cornwall
To see if any news be of him there;
Myself will make a strict inquiry here,
And all about our cities near at hand,
Till certain news of his abode be brought.
22.Sp2Ragan*
All sorrow is but counterfeit* to mine,
Whose lips are almost sealèd up with grief.
Mine is the substance whilst they do but seem*
Oh, ne’er was heard so strange a misadventure,
A thing so far beyond the reach of sense,
Since no man’s reason in the cause can enter,
What hath removed my father thus from hence?
Oh, I do fear some charm or invocation
Of wicked spirits or infernal fiends,
Stirred by Cordella, moves this innovation*
And brings my father timeless* to his end.
But might I know that the detested witch
Were certain cause of this uncertain ill,
Myself to France would go in some disguise
And with these nails scratch out her hateful eyes,
For since I am deprivèd of my father,
I loathe my life and wish my death the rather.
22.Sp3Cambria
The heavens are just and hate impiety,
And will no doubt reveal such heinous crimes;
Censure not any till you know the right:
Let Him be judge that bringeth truth to light.
22.Sp4Ragan
Enter the Gallian Ambassador
Oh, but my grief, like to a swelling tide,
Exceeds the bounds of common patience,
Nor can I moderate my tongue so much
To conceal them whom I hold in suspect.*
22.Sp8Ambassador
I came from Gallia unto Cornwall sent
With letters to your honorable father,
Whom there not finding, as I did expect,
I was directed hither to repair.*
22.Sp12Ambassador
I must perform my charge in such a manner,
As I have strict commandment from the king.
22.Sp13Ragan
There is good packing ’twixt your king and you.*
You need not hither come to ask for him;
You know where he is better than ourselves.
22.Sp15Ragan
Hath the young murd’ress, your outrageous queen,
No means to color* her detested deeds
In finishing my guiltless father’s days—
Because he gave her nothing to her dower—
To send him letters hither to our court?
Go carry them to them that sent them hither,
And bid them keep their scrolls unto themselves;
They cannot blind us with such slight excuse
To smother up so monstrous vile abuse.
And, were it not it is ’gainst law of arms*
To offer violence to a messenger,
We would inflict such torments on thyself
As should enforce thee to reveal the truth.
22.Sp16Ambassador
Madam, your threats no whit appal my mind:*
I know my conscience guiltless of this act.
My king and queen, I dare be sworn, are free
From any thought of such impiety.
And, therefore, madam, you have done them wrong,
And ill-beseeming with a sister’s love,*
Who, in mere duty, tender him as much
As ever you respected him for dower.
The king your husband will not say as much.
22.Sp17Cambria
I will suspend my judgment for a time
Till more appearance give us further light;*
Yet, to be plain, your coming doth enforce*
A great suspicion to our doubtful mind,
And that you do resemble, to be brief,
Him that first robs and then cries, “Stop the thief”.
22.Sp19Ragan
Hence, saucy mate, reply no more to us,
She strikes him.*For law of arms shall not protect thy tongue.
22.Sp20Ambassador
Exit Ambassador.
Ne’er was I offered such discourtesy!
God and my king, I trust, ere it be long,
Will find a mean* to remedy this wrong.
22.Sp21Ragan
She weeps.*
How shall I live to suffer this disgrace
At every base and vulgar peasant’s hands?
It ill befitteth my imperial state
To be thus used, and no man take my part.
22.Sp22Cambria
What should I do? Infringe the law of arms
Were to my everlasting obloquy,*
But I will take revenge upon his master,
Which sent him hither to delude us thus.
22.Sp23Ragan
Nay, if you put up* this, be sure, ere long,
Now that my father thus is made away,
She’ll* come and claim a third part of your crown
As due unto her by inheritance.
22.Sp24Cambria
Exeunt.
But I will prove her title to be nought*
But shame and the reward of parricide,*
And make her an example to the world
For after-ages to admire her penance.*
This will I do, as I am Cambria’s king,
Or lose my life to prosecute* revenge.
Come, first let’s learn what news is of our father,
And then proceed as best occasion fits.*
Scene 23* Video Sc. 23*
Enter Leir, Perillus, and two mariners* in sea-gowns* and sea-caps.*23.Sp1Perillus
First Mariner looks on Leir.*
Second Mariner looks on Perillus.
My honest friends, we are ashamed to show
The great extremity* of our present state,
In that at this time we are brought so low
That we want money for to pay our passage.
The truth is so: we met with some good-fellows,*
A little before we came aboard your ship,
Which stripped us quite of all the coin we had
And left us not a penny in our purses.
To see you satisfied to the uttermost.
23.Sp4Leir
Faith, had we others to supply their room,*
Though ne’er so mean,* you willingly should have them.
23.Sp5Second Mariner
Leir and First Mariner changeth.*
23.Sp7Second Mariner
Pulls off Perillus’ cloak
Do you hear, sir? You shall have a better match than he because you are my friend:* here is a good sheep’s russet* sea-gown: will bide more stress, I warrant you, than two of his. Yet, for you seem
to be an honest gentleman, I am content to change it for your cloak, and ask you nothing
for your passage more.
23.Sp8Perillus
My own I willingly would change with thee,
And think myself indebted to thy kindness,
My friend, I’ll give thee this new doublet* if thou wilt
Restore his gown unto him back again.
23.Sp9First Mariner
23.Sp10Leir
To Perillus Kind friend, it is much better as it is,
For by this means we may escape unknown
Till time and opportunity do fit.
23.Sp11Second Mariner
Hark, hark,* they are laying their heads together;
They’ll repent them of their bargain anon.
’Twere best for us to go while we are well.
23.Sp12First Mariner
23.Sp13Leir
I know thou wilt, but we hope to bring ready money* with us when we come back again.
Exeunt Mariners.*Were ever men in this extremity,
In a strange country, and devoid of friends,
And not a penny for to help ourselves?
Kind friend, what thinkst thou will become of us?
23.Sp14Perillus
Be of good cheer, my lord. I have a doublet
Will yield us money enough to serve our turns*
Until we come unto your daughter’s court;
And then, I hope, we shall find friends enough.
23.Sp15Leir
Ah, kind Perillus, that is it I fear,
And makes me faint or ever* I come there.
Can kindness spring out of ingratitude,
Or love be reaped where hatred hath been sown?
Or sugar grow in wormwood’s* bitter stalk?
It cannot be: they are too opposite,
And so am I to any kindness here.
I have thrown wormwood on the sugared youth,
And, like to henbane, poisoned the fount
Whence flowed the mithridate of a child’s good will.
I, like an envious thorn, have pricked the heart
And turned sweet grapes to sour, unrelished sloes.*
The causeless ire of my respectless* breast
Hath soured the sweet milk of Dame Nature’s paps.*
My bitter words have galled her honey thoughts,
Then what remainder is of any hope,
23.Sp16Perillus
Can never be corrupted by the bad:
A new fresh vessel still retains the taste
Of that which first is poured into the same.
And therefore, though you name yourself the thorn,
The weed, the gall,* the henbane, and the wormwood,
Yet she’ll continue in her former state,
The honey, milk, grape, sugar, mithridate.*
23.Sp17Leir
Thou pleasing orator unto me in woe,*
Cease to beguile me with thy hopeful speeches.
Oh, join with me and think of nought but crosses,*
And then we’ll one lament another’s losses.
23.Sp18Perillus
Why say the worst? The worst can be but death,
And death is better than for to despair.
Then hazard death, which may convert to life,
Banish despair, which brings a thousand deaths.
23.Sp19Leir
O’ercome with thy strong arguments, I yield,
To be directed by thee, as thou wilt.
As thou yieldst comfort to my crazèd thoughts,
Would I could yield the like unto thy body,
Which is full weak, I know, and ill-apaid*
For want of fresh meat and due sustenance.
23.Sp21Leir
Exeunt.
Come, let us go and see what God will send:
When all means fail, He is the surest friend.
Scene 24*Video Sc. 24*
Enter the King of Gallia, Cordella, and Mumford, with a basket and table,* disguised like country folk.*24.Sp1Gallia
This tedious journey all on foot, sweet love,
Cannot be pleasing to your tender joints
Which ne’er were usèd to these toilsome walks.
24.Sp2Cordella
Enter Leir and Perillus, very faintly
I never in my life took more delight
In any journey than I do in this;
Enter attendants with banquet table.It did me good, whenas we happed to light
Amongst the merry crew of country folk,
To see what industry and pains they took
To win them commendations ’mongst their friends.
Lord, how they labor to bestir themselves,
And in their quirks to go beyond the moon,
And so take on them with such antic fits
That one would think they were beside their wits!*
Come away, Roger, with your basket.
24.Sp4Cordella
Cordella, Gallia, and Mumford stand aside and listen to Leir and Perillus.
Nay, prithee do not; they do seem to be
Men much o’ergone with* grief and misery.
Let’s stand aside and harken* what they say.
24.Sp5Leir
Ah, my Perillus, now I see we both
Shall end our days in this unfruitful soil.*
Oh, I do faint for want of sustenance,
And thou, I know, in little better case.*
No gentle tree affords one taste of fruit
To comfort us until we meet with men,
No lucky path conducts* our luckless steps
Unto a place where any comfort dwells.
Sweet rest betide* unto our happy souls,
For here I see our bodies must have end.
24.Sp6Perillus
Ah, my dear lord, how doth my heart lament
To see you brought to this extremity!
Oh, if you love me, as you do profess,
Or ever thought well of me in my life,
He strips* up his arm.Feed on this flesh, whose veins are not so dry
But there is virtue* left to comfort you.
Oh, feed on this; if this will do you good,
I’ll smile for joy to see you suck my blood.*
24.Sp7Leir
I am no cannibal that I should delight
To slake* my hungry jaws with human flesh;
I am no devil, or ten times worse than so,
To suck the blood of such a peerless friend.
Oh, do not think that I respect my life
So dearly as I do thy loyal love.—
That hast unkindly banishèd thy king,
And yet not thou dost make me to complain,
But they which were more near to me than thou.
24.Sp9Leir
Ah, Gonorill, was half my kingdom’s gift
The cause that thou didst seek to have my life?
Ah, cruel Ragan, did I give thee all,
And all could not suffice without my blood?
Ah, poor Cordella, did I give thee nought,
Nor never shall be able for to give?
Oh, let me warn all ages that ensueth
How they trust flattery and reject the truth.*
Well, unkind girls, I here forgive you both—
Yet the just heavens will hardly do the like—*
And only crave forgiveness, at the end,
Of good Cordella, and of thee, my friend;
Of God, whose majesty I have offended
By my transgression many thousand ways;
Of her, dear heart, whom I for no occasion
Turned out of all* through flatterers’ persuasion;
Of thee, kind friend, who, but for me, I know,
Hadst never come unto this place of woe.
24.Sp11Gallia
Sweet love, reveal not what thou art as yet,
Until we know the ground* of all this ill.
24.Sp12Cordella
Cordella takes Mumford’s basket and empties out the food onto a table.*
Oh, but some meat, some meat!* Do you not see
How near they are to death for want of food?
24.Sp13Perillus
Lord, which didst help thy servants at their need,
Or now or never* send us help with speed.—
Oh, comfort, comfort! Yonder is a banquet*
And men and women,* my lord; be of good cheer,
For I see comfort coming very near.*
Oh, my lord, a banquet and men and women!
24.Sp15Perillus
Cordella bringeth Perillus to the table.*
God save you, friends, and if this blessed banquet
Affordeth any food or sustenance,
Even for his sake that saved us all from death,
Vouchsafe to save us from the grip of famine.
24.Sp16Cordella
Perillus takes Leir by the hand to the table.
Leir drinks.
Here, father, sit and eat; here, sit and drink,*
And would it were far better for your sakes.
24.Sp18Mumford
They eat hungrily. Leir drinks.
Aside I warrant, he ne’er stays to say grace.*
Oh, there’s no sauce to a good stomach.*
24.Sp21Cordella
And may that draught be unto him as was
That which old Aeson drank,* which did renew
His withered age and made him young again.
And may that meat be unto him as was
That which Elias* ate, in strength whereof
He walked forty days and never fainted.
To King of Gallia Shall I conceal me longer from my father?
Or shall I manifest myself to him?
24.Sp22Gallia
Forbear a while until his strength return,
Lest being overjoyed with seeing thee
His poor weak senses should forsake their office*
And so our cause of joy be turned to sorrow.
24.Sp24Leir
Methinks I never ate such savory meat:
It is as pleasant as the blessed manna,*
That rained from heaven amongst the Israelites.*
It hath recalled my spirits home again
And made me fresh as erst I was before.
But how shall we congratulate* their kindness?
24.Sp25Perillus
Perillus proffers his doublet;* they will not take it.
In faith, I know not how sufficiently,
But the best mean* that I can think on is this:
I’ll offer them my doublet in requital,
For we have nothing else to spare.
24.Sp28Leir
Ah, who would think such kindness should remain
Among such strange* and unacquainted men,
And that such hate should harbor in the breast
Of those which have occasion to be best?*
24.Sp32Leir
No, God forbid, but all my interest’s* gone
By showing myself too much unnatural;
So have I lost the title of a father
And may be called a stranger to her rather.
24.Sp33Cordella
Your title’s good still, for ’tis always known
A man may do as him list with his own.*
But have you but one daughter then in all?
24.Sp35Cordella
Oh, say not so, but rather see the end:
They that are bad may have the grace to mend.
But how have they offended you so much?
24.Sp36Leir
If from the first I should relate the cause,
’Twould make a heart of adamant* to weep,
And thou, poor soul, kind-hearted as thou art,
Dost weep already* ere I do begin.
24.Sp37Cordella
For God’s love tell it, and when you have done
I’ll tell the reason why I weep so soon.
24.Sp38Leir
And had three daughters by one loving wife;
And, though I say it, of beauty they were sped,*
Especially the youngest of the three,
For her perfections hardly matched could be.
On these I doted with a jealous love
And thought to try which of them loved me best
By asking them which would do most for me.
The first and second flattered me with words
And vowed they loved me better than their lives.
The youngest said she loved me as a child
And presently, in an outrageous mood,
I turned her from me to go sink or swim,
And all I had, even to the very clothes,
I gave in dowry with the other two;
And she that best deserved the greatest share,
I gave her nothing but disgrace and care.*
Now mark the sequel: when I had done thus,
I sojourned in my eldest daughter’s house
Where, for a time, I was entreated* well
And lived in state sufficing my content.*
But every day her kindness did grow cold,
Which I with patience put up well enough,
And seemèd not to see the things I saw.
But at the last she grew so far incensed
With moody fury and with causeless hate
That, in most vile and contumelious* terms,
She bade me pack and harbor* somewhere else.
Then was I fain for refuge to repair*
Unto my other daughter for relief,
Who gave me pleasing and most courteous words,
But in her actions showed herself so sore*
As never any daughter did before.
She prayed me in a morning out betime*
To go to a thicket two miles from the court,
’Pointing* that there she would come talk with me;
There she had set a shag-haired murd’ring wretch
To massacre my honest friend and me.
Then judge yourself, although my tale be brief,
If ever man had greater cause of grief.*
24.Sp40Leir
And now I am constrained to seek relief
Of her to whom I have been so unkind,
Whose censure, if it do award me death,
I must confess she pays me but my due.
But if she show a loving daughter’s part,
It comes of God and her, not my desert.
24.Sp43Cordella
Myself a father have a great way hence,
Used me as ill as ever you did her;
Yet, that his reverend age I once might see,
I’d creep along to meet him on my knee.
24.Sp45Cordella
She kneels.*
He kneels.
He riseth.
He kneels.
Condemn not all because of others’ crime,
But look, dear father, look, behold and see,
Thy loving daughter speaketh unto thee.
24.Sp49Cordella
I pardon you; the word beseems* not me,
But I do say so for to ease your knee.
You gave me life, you were the cause that I
Am what I am, who else had never been.
24.Sp54Gallia
Let me break off this loving controversy,
Which doth rejoice my very soul to see.
Good father, rise. She is your loving daughter,
He riseth.And honors you with as respective duty*
As if you were the monarch of the world.
24.Sp55Cordella
But I will never rise from off my knee,
She kneels.Until I have your blessing and your pardon
Of all my faults committed any way*
From my first birth unto this present day.
24.Sp56Leir
She riseth.
The blessing, which the God of Abraham gave
Unto the tribe of Judah,* light on thee,
And multiply thy days, that thou mayst see
Thy children’s children prosper after thee.
Thy faults, which are just none that I do know,
God pardon on high, and I forgive below.
24.Sp57Cordella
Now is my heart at quiet and doth leap
Within my breast for joy of this good hap.
And now, dear father, welcome to our court,
And welcome, kind Perillus, unto me,
Mirror of virtue and true honesty.
24.Sp59Perillus
My tongue doth fail to say what heart doth think,
I am so ravished with exceeding joy.
24.Sp60Gallia
He rises.
All you have spoke, now let me speak my mind,
And in few words much matter here conclude:
He kneels.*If e’er my heart do harbor any joy
Or true content repose within my breast
Till I have rooted out this viperous sect
And repossessed my father of his crown,
Let me be counted for the perjured’st* man
That ever spake word since the world began.
24.Sp61Mumford
Mumford rises.
Let me pray too, that never prayed before;*
Mumford kneels.If e’er I resalute* the British earth,
As, ere’t be long, I do presume I shall,
And do return from thence without my wench,
Let me be gelded* for my recompense.
24.Sp62Gallia
Exeunt.
Come, let’s to arms for to redress this wrong.
Till I am there, methinks the time seems long.
Scene 25* Video Sc. 25*
Enter Ragan alone25.Sp1Ragan
Exit.
I feel a hell of conscience in my breast,
Tormenting me with horror for my fact,*
And makes me in an agony of doubt
For fear the world should find my dealing out.
The slave whom I appointed for the act,
I ne’er set eye upon the peasant since.
Oh, could I get him for to make him sure,*
My doubts would cease, and I should rest secure.
But if the old men with persuasive words
Have saved their lives and made him to relent,
Then are they fled unto the court of France,
And like a trumpet manifest my shame.
A shame on these white-livered* slaves, say I,
That with fair words so soon are overcome.
Oh, God, that I had been but made a man,*
Or that my strength were equal with my will!
These foolish men are nothing but mere pity,
And melt as butter doth against the sun.
Why should they have pre-eminence* over us,
Since we are creatures of more brave resolve?
I swear, I am quite out of charity
With all the heartless men in Christendom.
A pox upon them when they are afraid
To give a stab or slit a paltry windpipe,
Which are so easy matters to be done.
Well, had I thought the slave would serve me so,
Myself would have been executioner;
’Tis now undone, and if that it be known,
I’ll make as good shift as I can for one.*
’Twere best for him to keep him from my hands.*
Scene 26* Video Sc. 26*
Sound drums and trumpets Enter the King of Gallia, Leir, Mumford, and the army*26.Sp1Gallia*
Thus have we brought our army to the sea
Whereas our ships are ready to receive us.
The wind stands fair and we in four hours’ sail
May easily arrive on British shore
Where, unexpected, we may them surprise
And gain a glorious victory with ease.
Since truth and justice fighteth on our sides,
That we shall march with conquest where we go.
Myself will be as forward as the first,*
And step-by-step march with the hardiest wight;*
And not the meanest soldier in our camp
Shall be in danger, but I’ll second him.*—
To Mumford To you, my lord, we give the whole command
Of all the army, next unto ourself,*
Not doubting of you but you will extend
Your wonted* valor in this needful case,
Encouraging the rest to do the like
By your approvèd magnanimity.
26.Sp2Mumford
My liege, ’tis needless to spur a willing horse
That’s apt enough to run himself to death,
For here I swear by that sweet saint’s bright eyes,*
Which are the stars which guide me to good hap,
Either to see my old lord crowned anew,
Or in his cause to bid the world adieu.
26.Sp4Mumford
To the soldiers* And now to you, my worthy countrymen,
Ye valiant race of Genovestan Gauls,*
Surnamed Redshanks* for your chivalry,
Because you fight up to the shanks in blood,
Show yourselves now to be right Gauls indeed,
And be so bitter on your enemies
That they may say you are as bitter as gall.*
Gall them, brave shot,* with your artillery,
Each in their ’pointed place. Not one, but all,
Fight for the credit of yourselves and Gaul.
26.Sp5Gallia
Exeunt.
Then what should more persuasion need to those
That rather wish to deal than hear of blows?
Let’s to our ships. And if that God permit,
In four hours’ sail I hope we shall be there.
Scene 27* Video Sc. 27*
Enter a Captain of the Watch (1 Captain) and two Watchmen27.Sp11 Captain
Exit.*
My honest friends, it is your turn tonight
To watch in this place, near about the beacon,*
And vigilantly have regard,
If any fleet of ships pass hitherward;
Which if you do, your office is to fire
The beacon presently and raise the town.*
27.Sp2First Watchman
Ay, ay, ay, fear nothing. We know our charge, I warrant: I have been a watchman about
this beacon this thirty year, and yet I ne’er see it stir but stood as quietly as
might be.
27.Sp3Second Watchman
27.Sp5Second Watchman
’Tis no matter. I’ll prove by good reason that we watch the beacon, ass for example*—
27.Sp13Second Watchman
True; you construe right.* Presently, like a faithful watchman, I fire the beacon and call up the town.
27.Sp14First Watchman
Exeunt.
Ay, that’s as much as to say you set your nose to the pot, and drink up the drink.
Scene 28* Video Sc. 28*
Enter the King of Gallia with a still march,* Mumford, and soldiers.28.Sp1Gallia
Exeunt.
Now march our ensigns* on the British earth,
And we are near approaching* to the town;
Then look about you, valiant countrymen,
And we shall finish this exploit with ease.
Th’inhabitants of this mistrustful* place
Are dead asleep, as men that are secure.*
Here shall we skirmish but with naked* men
Till they do feel our meaning on their skins.
Scene 29* Video Sc. 29*
Alarum,* with men and women half-naked Enter two Captains without doublets,* with swords29.Sp11 Captain
Where are these villains—that were set to watch
And fire the beacon, if occasion served—
That thus have suffered us to be surprised,
And never given notice to the town?
We are betrayed and quite devoid of hope
By any means to fortify ourselves.
29.Sp31 Captain
Enter the Watchmen drunk, with each a pot.**
He drinks.
A whirlwind carry them quick to a whirlpool,*
That there the slaves* may drink their bellies full.
29.Sp91 Captain
Drawd to stab them
Enter Mumford
Captains run away.
He kicks down their pots.*
You’ll fire the beacon when the town is lost!
I’ll teach you how to tend your office better.
29.Sp12Mumford
Exit Mumford.
29.Sp13Second Watchman
Exeunt.
Alarum, excursions,* Mumford after them, and some half-naked*
’A speaks like an honest man. My choler’s* passed already. Come, neighbor, let’s go.
Scene 30* Video Sc. 30*
Enter the King of Gallia, Leir, Mumford, Cordella, Perillus and Soldiers, with the Chief of the town bound, and an English Nobleman30.Sp1Gallia
Fear not, my friends, you shall receive no hurt
If you’ll subscribe* unto your lawful king
And quite revoke your fealty* from Cambria,
And from aspiring Cornwall too, whose wives
Have practiced treason ’gainst their father’s life.
We come in justice of* your wrongèd king,
And do intend no harm at all to you,
So you submit unto your lawful king.
30.Sp3A Nobleman
Long have you here been looked for, good my lord,*
And wished for by a general consent;
And had we known your highness had arrived,
We had not made resistance to your grace.*
And now, my gracious lord, you need not doubt
But all the country will yield presently,
Which, since your absence, have been greatly taxed
For to maintain their overswelling pride.*
We’ll presently send word to all our friends:
When they have notice, they will come apace.
30.Sp4Leir
Thanks, loving subjects, and thanks, worthy son;
Thanks, my kind daughter, thanks to you, my lord,
Without desert, to do me so much good.
30.Sp5Mumford
30.Sp6Cordella
We that are feeble* and want use of arms
Will pray to God to shield you from all harms.
30.Sp7Leir
The while your hands do manage ceaseless toil,
Our hearts shall pray the foes may have the foil.*
30.Sp8Perillus
We’ll fast and pray whilst you for us do fight,
That victory may prosecute the right.*
30.Sp9Gallia
Enter Cornwall, Cambria, Gonorill, Ragan, and the army.*
Methinks your words do amplify,* my friends,
And add fresh vigor to my willing limbs.
DrumBut hark, I hear the adverse drum* approach.
God and our right, Saint Denis, and Saint George!*
30.Sp10Cornwall*
Presume to enter on our British shore?
And, more than that, to take our towns perforce,*
And draw our subjects’ hearts from their true king?
As e’er you bought presumption in your lives.
30.Sp11Gallia
O’erdaring Cornwall, know we came in right
And just revengement of the wrongèd king,
Whose daughters there, fell* vipers as they are,
Have sought to murder and deprive of life;
But God protected him from all their spite,
And we are come in justice of his right.
30.Sp12Cambria*
Nor he nor thou have any interest here
But what you win and purchase with the sword.
Thy slanders to our noble virtuous queens
We’ll in the battle thrust them down thy throat
Except,* for fear of our revenging hands,
Thou fly to sea, as not secure on lands.
30.Sp13Mumford