King Leir, Quarto 1

King Leir, Quarto 1 Leir: Q1 Author Anonymous Editor Andrew Griffin Conversion and Remediation LEMDO Team Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council of Canada McMaster University Poculi Ludique Societas University of Waterloo University of Toronto Centre for Drama, Theatre & Performance Studies University of Victoria Friends of the ISE

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Queen’s Men Editions

Quarto 1, 1605.

Transcription prepared by Andrew Griffin. First published in the QME 1.0 anthology on the ISE platform. Converted to TEI-XML and remediated by the LEMDO Team for republication in the QME 2.0 anthology on the LEMDO platform.

Old URI: https://qme.uvic.ca/doc/Leir_Q1/scene/1/index.html.

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text-align: center; font-style: italic; display: block; letter-spacing: 0.5em; position: absolute; left: 50%; transform: translateX(-50%); position: absolute; right: 0; Updated encoding of figure Checked that lineation is rendering correctly on title page after CSS update Published file. Tidied sourceDesc to bring it inline with FV. Removed extra horizontal space elements that were unneeded before stage elements. Merged incorrectly split speeches, renumbered speeches. Updated metadata Updated metadata, encoded hungwords. Added basic tagsDecl, added encoding and editorial descriptions Removed a stray lb/ element. Completed proofreading the file. Began proofreading the file. Added facsimile links and changed the status to proofing. Reviewing comments and preparing the file for proofing. Replaced original @place values with new ones from emdPlacement taxonomy. Mostly remediated, lb still need to be checked over if they are on a new compositorial line, need facs links to the quarto text from luna.folger. Replaced FBFB in a speech id with Leir. Deleted stray spaces before closing ab tags. Merged GALL2’s recent local changes into file in repo. began remediating. Removed ab elements around supplied scene headers and replaced with head elements. Created TEI from IML file. Peer review arranged by QME Editorial Board THE True Chronicle Hi- storie of King Leir and his three daughters, Gonorill, Ragan, and Cordella As it hath bene diuers and sundry times lately acted.

LONDON, Printed by Simon Stafford for Iohn Wright, and are to bee sold at his shop at Christes Church dore, next Newgate- Market. 1605. The true Chronicle Historie of King Leir and his three daughters. ACTVS I. Enter King Leir and Nobles. THus to our griefe the obsequies performd Of our (too late) deceast and dearest Queen, Whose soule I hope, possest of heauēly heavenly ioyes, Doth ride in triumph ’mōgst the Cherubins; Let vs request your graue aduice, my Lords, For the disposing of our princely daughters, For whom our care is specially imployd, As nature bindeth to aduaunce their states, In royall marriage with some princely mates: For wanting now their mothers good aduice, Vnder whose gouernment they haue receyued A perfit patterne of a vertuous life: Left as it were a ship without a sterne, Or silly sheepe without a Pastors care; Although our selues doe dearely tender them, Yet are we ignorant of their affayres: For fathers best do know to gouerne sonnes; But daughters steps the mothers counsell turnes. A sonne we want for to succeed our Crowne, And course of time hath cancelled the date Of further issue from our withered loynes: One foote already hangeth in the graue, And age hath made deepe furrowes in my face: The world of me, I of the world am weary, And I would fayne resigne these earthly cares, And thinke vpon the welfare of my soule: Which by no better meanes may be effected, Then by resigning vp the Crowne from me, In equall dowry to my daughters three. Skalliger. A worthy care, my Liege, which well declares, The zeale you bare vnto our quondam Queene: And since your Grace hath licens’d me to speake, A2 I cen- The History of King Leir I censure thus; Your Maiesty knowing well, What seuerall Suters your princely daughters haue, To make them eche a Ioynter more or lesse, As is their worth, to them that loue professe. Leir. No more, nor lesse, but euen all alike, My zeale is fixt, all fashiond in one mould: Wherefore vnpartiall shall my censure be, Both old and young shall haue alike for me. Nobl. My gracious Lord, I hartily do wish, That God had lent you an heyre indubitate, Which might haue set vpon your royall throne, When fates should loose the prison of your life, By whose succession all this doubt might cease; And as by you, by him we might haue peace. But after-wishes euer come too late, And nothing can reuoke the course of fate: Wherefore, my Liege, my censure deemes it best, To match them with some of your neighbour Kings, Bordring within the bounds of Albion, By whose vnited friendship, this our state May be protected ’gainst all forrayne hate. Leir. Herein, my Lords, your wishes sort with mine, And mine (I hope) do sort with heauenly powers: For at this instant two neere neyghbouring Kings Of Cornwall and of Cambria, motion loue To my two daughters, Gonorill and Ragan. My youngest daughter, fayre Cordella, vowes No liking to a Monarch, vnlesse loue allowes. She is sollicited by diuers Peeres; But none of them her partiall fancy heares. Yet, if my policy may her beguyle, Ile match her to some King within this Ile, And so establish such a perfit peace, As fortunes force shall ne’re preuayle to cease. Perillus. Of vs & ours, your gracious care, my Lord, Deserues an euerlasting memory, To be inrol’d in Chronicles of fame, By neuer-dying perpetuity: Yet and his three daughters. Yet to become so prouident a Prince, Lose not the title of a louing father: Do not force loue, where fancy cannot dwell, Leststreames being stopt, aboue the banks do swell. Leir. I am resolu’d, and euen now my mind Doth meditate a sudden stratagem, To try which of my daughters loues me best: Which till I know, I cannot be in rest. This graunted, when they ioyntly shall contend, Eche to exceed the other in their loue: Then at the vantage will I take Cordella, Euen as she doth protest she loues me best, Ile say, Then, daughter, graunt me one request, To shew thou louest me as thy sisters doe, Accept a husband, whom my selfe will woo. This sayd, she cannot well deny my sute, Although (poore soule) her sences will be mute: Then will I tryumph in my policy, And match her with a King of Brittany. Skal. Ile to them before, and bewray your secrecy. Per. Thus fathers think their children to beguile, And oftentimes themselues do first repent, When heauenly powers do frustrate their intent. Exeunt. Enter Gonorill and Ragan. Gon. I maruell, Ragan, how you can indure To see that proud pert Peat, our youngest sister, So slightly to account of vs, her elders, As if we were no better then her selfe! We cannot haue a quaynt deuice so soone, Or new made fashion, of our choyce inuention; But if she like it, she will haue the same, Or study newer to exceed vs both. Besides, she is so nice and so demure; So sober, courteous, modest, and precise, That all the Court hath worke ynough to do, To talke how she exceedeth me and you. Ra. What should I do? would it were in my power, To find a cure for this contagious ill: A3 Some The History of King Leir Some desperate medicine must be soone applyed, To dimme the glory of her mounting fame; Els ere’t be long, sheele haue both prick and praise, And we must be set by for working dayes. Doe you not see what seuerall choyce of Suters She daily hath, and of the best degree? Say, amongst all, she hap to fancy one, And haue a husband when as we haue none: Why then, by right, to her we must giue place, Though it be ne’re so much to our disgrace. Gon. By my virginity, rather then she shall haue A husband before me, Ile marry one or other in his shirt: And yet I haue made halfe a graunt already Of my good will vnto the King of Cornwall. Ra. Sweare not so deeply (sister) here cōmeth commeth my L. Skalliger: Something his hasty comming doth import. Enter Skal. Skal. Sweet Princesses, I am glad I met you heere so luckily, Hauing good newes which doth concerne you both, And craueth speedy expedition. Ra. For Gods sake tell vs what it is, my Lord, I am with child vntill you vtter it. Skal. Madam, to saue your longing, this it is: Your father in great secrecy to day, Told me, he meanes to marry you out of hand, Vnto the noble Prince of Cambria; You, Madam, to the King of Cornwalls Grace: Your yonger sister he would fayne bestow Vpon the rich King of Hibernia: But that he doubts, she hardly will consent; For hitherto she ne’re could fancy him. If she do yeeld, why then, betweene you three, He will deuide his kingdome for your dowries. But yet there is a further mystery, Which, so you will conceale, I will disclose. Gon. What e’re thou speakst to vs, kind Skalliger, Thinke that thou speakst it only to thy selfe. Skal. He earnestly desireth for to know, Which and his three daughters. Which of you three do beare most loue to him, And on your loues he so extremely dotes, As neuer any did, I thinke, before. He presently doth meane to send for you, To be resolu’d of this tormenting doubt: And looke, whose answere pleaseth him the best, They shall haue most vnto their marriages. Ra. O that I had some pleasing Mermayds voyce, For to inchaunt his sencelesse sences with! Skal. For he supposeth that Cordella will (Striuing to go beyond you in her loue) Promise to do what euer he desires: Then will he straight enioyne her for his sake, The Hibernian King in marriage for to take. This is the summe of all I haue to say; Which being done, I humbly take my leaue, Not doubting but your wisdomes will foresee, What course will best vnto your good agree. Gon. Thanks, gentle Skalliger, thy kindnes vndeserued, Shall not be vnrequited, if we liue. Exit Skalliger. Ra. Now haue we fit occasion offred vs, To be reueng’d vpon her vnperceyu’d. Gon. Nay, our reuenge we will inflict on her, Shall be accounted piety in vs: I will so flatter with my doting father, As he was ne’re so flattred in his life. Nay, I will say, that if it be his pleasure, To match me to a begger, I will yeeld: For why, I know what euer I do say, He meanes to match me with the Cornwall King. Ra. Ile say the like: for I am well assured; What e’re I say to please the old mans mind, Who dotes, as if he were a child agayne, I shall inioy the noble Cambrian Prince: Only, to feed his humour, will suffice, To say, I am content with any one Whom heele appoynt me; this will please him more, Then e’re Apolloes musike pleased Ioue. A4 Gon.I The History of King Leir Gon. I smile to think, in what a wofull plight Cordella will be, when we answere thus: For she will rather dye, then giue consent To ioyne in marriage with the Irish King: So will our father think, she loueth him not, Because she will not graunt to his desire, Which we will aggrauate in such bitter termes, That he will soone conuert his loue to hate: For he, you know, is alwayes in extremes. Rag. Not all the world could lay a better plot, I long till it be put in practice. Exeunt. Enter Leir and Perillus. Leir. Perillus, go seeke my daughters, Will them immediately come and speak with me. Per. I will, my gracious Lord. Exit. Leir. Oh, what a combat feeles my panting heart, ’Twixt childrens loue, and care of Common weale! How deare my daughters are vnto my soule, None knowes, but he, that knowes my thoghts & secret deeds. Ah, little do they know the deare regard, Wherein I hold their future state to come: When they securely sleepe on beds of downe, These aged eyes do watch for their behalfe : While they like wantons sport in youthfull toyes, This throbbing heart is pearst with dire annoyes. As doth the Sun excceed the smallest Starre; So much the fathers loue exceeds the childs. Yet my complaynts are causlesse: for the world Affords not children more conformable: And yet, me thinks, my mind presageth still I know not what; and yet I feare some ill. Enter Perillus, with the three daughters. Well, here my daughters come: I haue found out A present meanes to rid me of this doubt. Gon. Our royall Lord and father, in all duty, We come to know the tenour of your will, Why you so hastily haue sent for vs ? Leir. Deare Gonorill, kind Ragan, sweet Cordella, Ye and his three daughters. Ye florishing branches of a Kingly stocke, Sprung from a tree that once did flourish greene, Whose blossomes now are nipt with Winters frost, And pale grym death doth wayt vpon my steps, And summons me vnto his next Assizes. Therefore, deare daughters, as ye tender the safety Of him that was the cause of your first being, Resolue a doubt which much molests my mind, Which of you three to me would proue most kind; Which loues me most, and which at my request Will soonest yeeld vnto their fathers hest. Gon. I hope, my gracious father makes no doubt Of any of his daughters loue to him: Yet for my part, to shew my zeale to you, Which cannot be in windy words rehearst, I prize my loue to you at such a rate, I thinke my life inferiour to my loue. Should you inioyne me for to tye a milstone About my neck, and leape into the Sea, At your commaund I willingly would doe it: Yea, for to doe you good, I would ascend The highest Turret in all Brittany, And from the top leape headlong to the ground: Nay, more, should you appoynt me for to marry The meanest vassayle in the spacious world, Without reply I would accomplish it: In briefe, commaund what euer you desire, And if I fayle, no fauour I require. Leir. O, how thy words reuiue my dying soule! Cor. O, how I doe abhorre this flattery! Leir. But what sayth Ragan to her fathers will? Rag. O, that my simple vtterance could suffice, To tell the true intention of my heart, Which burnes in zeale of duty to your grace, And neuer can be quench’d, but by desire To shew the same in outward forwardnesse. Oh, that there were some other mayd that durst But make a challenge of her loue with me; B Ide The History of King Leir Ide make her soone confesse she neuer loued Her father halfe so well as I doe you. I then, my deeds should proue in playner case, How much my zeale aboundeth to your grace: But for them all, let this one meane suffice, To ratify my loue before your eyes: I haue right noble Suters to my loue, No worse then Kings, and happely I loue one: Yet, would you haue me make my choyce anew, Ide bridle fancy, and be rulde by you. Leir. Did neuer Philomel sing so sweet a note. Cord. Did neuer flatterer tell so false a tale. Leir. Speak now, Cordella, make my ioyes at full, And drop downe Nectar from thy hony lips. Cor. I cannot paynt my duty forth in words, I hope my deeds shall make report for me: But looke what loue the child doth owe the father, The same to you I beare, my gracious Lord. Gon. Here is an answere answerlesse indeed: Were you my daughter, I should scarcely brooke it. Rag. Dost thou not blush, proud Peacock as thou art, To make our father such a slight reply? Leir. Why how now, Minion, are you growne so proud? Doth our deare loue make you thus peremptory? What, is your loue become so small to vs, As that you scorne to tell vs what it is? Do you loue vs, as euery child doth loue Their father? True indeed, as some, Who by disobedience short their fathers dayes, And so would you; some are so father-sick, That they make meanes to rid them from the world; And so would you: some are indifferent, Whether their aged parents liue or dye; And so are you. But, didst thou know, proud gyrle, What care I had to foster thee to this, Ah, then thou wouldst say as thy sisters do: Our life is lesse, then loue we owe to you. Cord. Deare father, do not so mistake my words, Nor and his three daughters. Nor my playne meaning be misconstrued; My toung was neuer vsde to flattery. Gon. You were not best say I flatter: if you do, My deeds shall shew, I flatter not with you. I loue my father better then thou canst. Cor. The prayse were great, spoke from anothers mouth: But it should seeme your neighbours dwell far off. Rag. Nay, here is one, that will confirme as much As she hath sayd, both for my selfe and her. I say, thou dost not wish my fathers good. Cord. Deare father.——— Leir. Peace, bastard Impe, no Issue of King Leir, I will not heare thee speake one tittle more. Call not me father, if thou loue thy life, Nor these thy si sters once presume to name: Looke for no helpe henceforth from me nor mine; Shift as thou wilt, and trust vnto thy selfe: My Kingdome will I equally deuide ’Twixt thy two sisters to their royall dowre, And will bestow them worthy their deserts: This done, because thou shalt not haue the hope, To haue a childs part in the time to come, I presently will dispossesse my selfe, And set vp these vpon my princely throne. Gon. I euer thought that pride would haue a fall. Ra. Plaine dealing, si ster: your beauty is so sheene, You need no dowry, to make you be a Queene. Exeunt Leir, Gonorill, Ragan. Cord. Now whither, poore forsaken, shall I goe, When mine own si sters tryumph in my woe? But vnto him which doth protect the iust, In him will poore Cordella put her trust. These hands shall labour, for to get my spending; And so ile liue vntill my dayes haue ending. Per. Oh, how I grieue, to see my Lord thus fond, To dote so much vpon vayne flattering words. Ah, if he but with good aduice had weyghed, The hidden tenure of her humble speech, B2 Reason The History of King Leir Reason to rage should not haue giuen place, Nor poore Cordella suffer such disgrace. Exit. Enter the Gallian king with Mumford, and three Nobles more. King. Disswade me not, my Lords, I am resolu’d, This next fayre wynd to sayle for Brittany, In some disguise, to see if flying fame Be not too prodigall in the wondrous prayse Of these three Nymphes, the daughters of King Leir. If present view do answere absent prayse, And eyes allow of what our eares haue heard, And Venus stand auspicious to my vowes, And Fortune fauour what I take in hand; I will returne seyz’d of as rich a prize As Iason, when he wanne the golden fleece. Mum. Heauens graūt grant you may; the match were ful of honor, And well beseeming the young Gallian King. I would your Grace would fauour me so much, As make me partner of your Pilgrimage. I long to see the gallant Brittish Dames, And feed mine eyes vpon their rare perfections: For till I know the contrary, Ile say, Our Dames in Fraunce are more fayre then they. Kin. Lord Mumford, you haue saued me a labour, In offring that which I did meane to aske: And I most willingly accept your company. Yet first I will inioyne you to obserue Some few conditions which I shall propose. Mum. So that you do not tye mine eyes for looking After the amorous glaunces of fayre Dames: So that you do not tye my toung from speaking, My lips from kissing when occasion serues, My hands from congees, and my knees to bow To gallant Gyrles which were a taske more hard, Then flesh and bloud is able to indure: Commaund what else you please, I rest content. Kin. To bind thee from a thing thou canst not leaue, Were but a meane to make thee seeke it more: And and his three daughters. And therefore speake, looke, kisse, salute for me; In these my selfe am like to second thee. Now heare thy taske. I charge thee from the time That first we set sayle for the Brittish shore, To vse no words of dignity to me, But in the friendliest maner that thou canst, Make vse of me as thy companion: For we will go disguisde in Palmers weeds, That no man shall mistrust vs what we are. Mum. If that be all, ile fit your turne, I warrant you. I am some kin to the Blunts, and I think, the bluntesst of all my kin- dred; therfore if I bee too blunt with you, thank your selfe for praying me to be so. King. Thy pleasant company will make the way seeme short. It resteth now, that in my absence hence, I do commit the gouernment to you My trusty Lords and faythfull Counsellers. Time cutteth off the rest I haue to say: The wynd blowes fayre, and I musst needs away. Nobles. Heauens send your voyage to as good effect, As we your land do purpose to protect. Exeunt. Enter the King of Cornwall and his man booted and spurd, a riding wand, and a letter in his hand. Corn. But how far distant are we from the Court? Ser. Some twenty miles, my Lord, or thereabouts. Corn. It seemeth to me twenty thousand myles: Yet hope I to be there within this houre. Ser. Then are you like to ride alone for me. to him- selfe. I thinke, my Lord is weary of his life. Corn. Sweet Gonorill, I long to see thy face, Which hast so kindly gratified my loue. Enter the King of Cambria booted and spurd, and his man with a wand and a letter. Cam. Get a fresh horse: for by my soule I sweare, He lookes on the letter. I am past patience, longer to forbeare The wished sight of my beloued mistris, Deare Ragan, stay and comfort of my life. Ser. Now what in Gods name doth my Lord intend? to him- selfe B3 He The History of King Leir He thinks he ne’re shall come at’s iourneyes end. I would he had old Dedalus waxen wings, That he might flye, so I might stay behind: For e’re we get to Troynouant, I see, He quite will tyre himselfe, his horse and me. Cornwall & Cambria looke one vpon another, and start to see eche other there. Corn. Brother of Cambria, we greet you well, As one whom here we little did expect. Cam. Brother of Cornwall, met in happy time: I thought as much to haue met with the Souldan of Persia, As to haue met you in this place, my Lord. No doubt, it is about some great affayres, That makes you here so slenderly accompanied. Corn. To say the truth, my Lord, it is no lesse, And for your part some hasty wind of chance Hath blowne you hither thus vpon the sudden. Cam. My Lord, to break off further circumstances, For at this time I cannot brooke delayes: Tell you your reason, I will tell you mine. Corn. In fayth content, and therefore to be briefe; For I am sure my haste’s as great as yours: I am sent for, to come vnto King Leir, Who by these present letters promiseth His eldest daughter, louely Gonorill, To me in mariage, and for present dowry, The moity of halfe his Regiment. The Ladies loue I long ago possest: But vntill now I neuer had the fathers. Cam. You tell me wonders, yet I will relate Strange newes, and henceforth we must brothers call; Witnesse these lynes: his honourable age, Being weary of the troubles of his Crowne, His princely daughter Ragan will bestow On me in mariage, with halfe his Seigniories, Whom I would gladly haue accepted of, With the third part, her complements are such. Corn. If I haue one halfe, and you haue the other, Then and his three daughters. Then betweene vs we must needs haue the whole. Cam. The hole! how meane you that? Zlood, I hope, We shall haue two holes beweene vs. Corn. Why, the whole Kingdome. Cam. I, that’s very true. Cor. What then is left for his third daughters dowry, Louely Cordella, whom the world admires? Cam. Tis very strange, I know not what to thinke, Vnlesse they meane to make a Nunne of her. Corn. ’Twere pity such rare beauty should be hid Within the compasse of a Cloysters wall: But howsoe’re, if Leirs words proue true, It will be good, my Lord, for me and you. Cam. Then let vs haste, all danger to preuent, For feare delayes doe alter his intent. Exeunt. Enter Gonorill and Ragan. Gon. Sister, when did you see Cordella last, That prety piece, that thinks none good ynough To speake to her, because (sir-reuerence) She hath a little beauty extraordinary? Ra. Since time my father warnd her from his presence, I neuer saw her, that I can remember. God giue her ioy of her surpassing beauty; I thinke, her dowry will be small ynough. Gon. I haue incenst my father so against her, As he will neuer be reclaymd agayne. Rag. I was not much behind to do the like. Gon. Faith, si ster, what moues you to beare her such good (will? Rag. Intruth, I thinke, the same that moueth you; Because she doth surpasse vs both in beauty. Gon. Beshrew your fingers, how right you can gesse: I tell you true, it cuts me to the heart. Rag. But we will keepe her low enough, I warrant, And clip her wings for mounting vp too hye. Gon. Who euer hath her, shall haue a rich mariage of her. Rag. She were right fit to make a Parsons wife: For they, men say, do loue faire women well, B4 And The History of King Leir And many times doe marry them with nothing. Gon. With nothing! marry God forbid: why, are there any (such? Rag. I meane, no money. Gon. I cry you mercy, I mistooke you much: And she is far too stately for the Church; Sheele lay her husbands Benefice on her back, Euen in one gowne, if she may haue her will. Ra. In faith, poore soule, I pitty her a little. Would she were lesse fayre, or more fortunate. Well, I thinke long vntill I see my Morgan, The gallant Prince of Cambria, here arriue. Gon. And so do I, vntill the Cornwall King Present himselfe, to consummate my ioyes. Peace, here commeth my father. Enter Leir, Perillus and others. Leir. Cease, good my Lords, and sue not to reuerse Our censure, which is now irreuocable. We haue dispatched letters of contract Vnto the Kings of Cambria and of Cornwall; Our hand and seale will iustify no lesse: Then do not so dishonour me, my Lords, As to make shipwrack of our kingly word. I am as kind as is the Pellican, That kils it selfe, to saue her young ones liues: And yet as ielous as the princely Eagle, That kils her young ones, if they do but dazell Vpon the radiant splendor of the Sunne. Enter Kings of Cornwall and Cam- bria. Within this two dayes I expect their comming But in good time, they are arriu’d already. This haste of yours, my Lords, doth testify The feruent loue you beare vnto my daughters: And think your selues as welcome to King Leir, As euer Pryams children were to him. Corn. 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 seene your Maiesty. Cam. No other scuse of absence can I frame, Then and his three daughters. Then what my brother hath inform’d your Grace: For our vndeserued welcome, we do vowe, Perpetually to rest at your commaund. Corn. But you, sweet Loue, illustrious Gonorill, The Regent, and the Soueraigne of my soule, Is Cornwall welcome to your Excellency? Gon. As welcome, as Leander was to Hero, Or braue Aeneas to the Carthage Queene: So and more welcome is your Grace to me. Cam. O, may my fortune proue no worse then his, Since heauens do know, my fancy is as much. Deare Ragan, say, if welcome vnto thee, All welcomes else will little comfort me. Rag. As gold is welcome to the couetous eye, As sleepe is welcome to the Traueller, As is fresh water to sea-beaten men, Or moystned showres vnto the parched ground, Or any thing more welcomer then this, So and more welcome louely Morgan is. Leir. What resteth then, but that we consummate, The celebration of these nuptiall Rites? My Kingdome I do equally deuide. Princes, draw lots, and take your chaunce as falles. Then they draw lots. These I resigne as freely vnto you, As earst by true succession they were mine. And here I do freely dispossesse my selfe, And make you two my true adopted heyres: My selfe will soiorne with my sonne of Cornwall, And take me to my prayers and my beades. I know, my daughter Ragan will be sorry, Because I do not spend my dayes with her: Would I were able to be with both at once; They are the kindest Gyrles in Christendome. Per. I haue bin silent all this while, my Lord, To see if any worthyer then my selfe, Would once haue spoke in poore Cordellaes cause: But loue or feare tyes silence to their toungs. C Oh, The History of King Leir Oh, heare me speake for her, my gracious Lord, Whose deeds haue not deseru’d this ruthlesse doome, As thus to disinherit her of all. Leir. Vrge this no more, and if thou loue thy life: I say, she is no daughter, that doth scorne To tell her father how she loueth him. Who euer speaketh hereof to mee agayne, I will esteeme him for my mortall foe. Come, let vs in, to celebrate with ioy, The happy Nuptialls of these louely payres. Exeunt omnes, manet Perillus. Per. Ah, who so blind, as they that will not see The neere approch of their owne misery? Poore Lady, I extremely pitty her: And whilest I liue, eche drop of my heart blood, Will I strayne forth, to do her any good. Exit. Enter the Gallian King, and Mumford, dsguised like Pilgrims. Mum. My Lord, how do you brook this Brittish ayre? King. My Lord? I told you of this foolish humour, And bound you to the contrary, you know. Mum. Pardon me for once, my Lord; I did forget. King. My Lord agayne? then let’s haue nothing else, And so be tane for spyes, and then tis well. Mum. Swounds, I could bite my toung in two for anger: For Gods sake name your selfe some proper name. King. Call me Tresillus: Ile call thee Denapoll. Mum. Might I be made the Monarch of the world, I could not hit vpon these names, I sweare. King. Then call me Will, ile call thee Iacke. Mum. Well, be it so, for I haue wel deseru’d to be cal’d Iack. King. Stand close; for here a Brittish Lady cōmeth commeth : Enter Cordella. A fayrer creature ne’re mine eyes beheld. Cord. This is a day of ioy vnto my si sters, Wherein they both are maried vnto Kings; And I by byrth, as worthy as themselues, Am turnd into the world, to seeke my fortune. How may I blame the fickle Queene of Chaunce, That and his three daughters. That maketh me a patterne of her power? Ah, poore weake mayd, whose imbecility Is far vnable to indure these brunts. Oh, father Leir, how dost thou wrong thy child, Who alwayes 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 imbrace the rod. King. It is no Goddesse ; for she doth complayne On fortune, and th’vnkindnesse of her father. Cord. These costly robes ill fitting my estate, I will exchange for other meaner habit. Mum. Now if I had a Kingdome in my hands, I would exchange it for a milkmaids smock and petycoate, That she and I might shift our clothes together. Cord. I will betake me to my threed and Needle, And earne my liuing with my fingers ends. Mum. O braue! God willing, though shalt haue my custome, By sweet S. Denis, here I sadly sweare, For all the shirts and night-geare that I weare. Cord. I will professe and vow a maydens life. Mum. Then Thē I protest thou shalt not haue my custom. King. I can forbeare no longer for to speak: For if I do, I think my heart will breake. Mum. Sblood, Wil, I hope you are not in loue with my Sēpster Sempster . King. I am in such a laborinth of loue, As that I know not which way to get out. Mum. You’l ne’re get out, vnlessse you first get in. King. I prithy Iacke, crosse not my passions. Mum. Prithy Wil, to her, and try her patience. King. Thou fairest creature, whatsoere thou art, That euer any mortall eyes beheld, Vouchsafe to me, who haue o’reheard thy woes, To shew the cause of these thy sad laments. Cor. Ah Pilgrims, what auailes to shew the cause, When there’s no meanes to find a remedy? King. To vtter griefe, doth ease a heart o’recharg’d. Cor. To touch a sore, doth aggrauate the payne. C2 King.The The History of King Leir King. The silly mouse, by vertue of her teeth, Releas’d the princely Lyon from the net. Cor. Kind Palmer, which so much desir’st to heare The tragick tale of my vnhappy youth: Know this in briefe, I am the haplesse daughter Of Leir, sometimes King of Brittany. King. Why, who debarres his honourable age, From being still the King of Brittany? Cor. None, but himselfe hath dispossest himselfe, And giuen all his Kingdome to the Kings Of Cornwall and of Cambria, with my si sters. King. Hath he giuen nothing to your louely selfe? Cor. He lou’d me not, & therfore gaue me nothing, Only because I could not flatter him: And in this day of tryumph to my si sters, Doth Fortune tryumph in my ouerthrow. King. Sweet Lady, say there should come a King, As good as eyther of your si sters husbands, To craue your loue, would you accept of him? Cor. Oh, doe not mocke with those in misery, Nor do not think, though fortune haue the power, To spoyle mine honour, 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 loue, and heart could like, Better then any that I euer saw, His great estate no more should moue my mind, Then mountaynes moue by blast of euery wind. King. Think not, sweet Nymph, tis holy Palmers guise, To grieued soules fresh torments to deuise: Therefore in witnesse of my true intent, Let heauen and earth beare record of my words: There is a young and lusty Gallian King, So like to me, as I am to my selfe, That earnestly doth craue to haue thy loue, And ioyne with thee in Hymens sacred bonds. Cor. The like to thee did ne’re these eyes behold; Oh and his three daughters. Oh liue to adde new torments to my griefe: Why didst thou thus intrap me vnawares? Ah Palmer, my estate doth not befit A kingly mariage, as the case now stands. Whilome when as I liu’d in honours height, A Prince perhaps might postulate my loue: Now misery, dishonour and disgrace, Hath light on me, and quite reuerst the case. Thy King will hold thee wise, if thou surcease The sute, whereas no dowry will insue. Then be aduised, Palmer, what to do: Cease for thy King, seeke for thy selfe to woo. King. Your birth’s too high for any, but a King. Cor. My mind is low ynough to loue a Palmer, Rather then any King vpon the earth. King. O, but you neuer can indure their life, Which is so straight and full of penury. Cor. O yes, I can, and happy if I might: Ile hold thy Palmers staffe within my hand, And thinke it is the Scepter of a Queene. Sometime ile set thy Bonnet on my head, And thinke I weare a rich imperiall Crowne. Sometime ile helpe thee in thy holy prayers, And thinke I am with thee in Paradise. Thus ile mock fortune, as she mocketh me, And neuer will my louely choyce repent: For hauing thee, I shall haue all content. King. ’Twere sin to hold her longer in suspence, Since that my soule hath vow’d she shall be mine. Ah, deare Cordella, cordiall to my heart, I am no Palmer, as I seeme to be, But hither come in this vnknowne disguise, To view th’admired beauty of those eyes. I am the King of Gallia, gentle mayd, (Although thus slenderly accompanied) and yet thy vassayle by imperious Loue, and sworne to serue thee euerlastingly. Cor. What e’re you be, of high or low discent, C3 All’s The History of King Leir All’s one to me, I do request but this: That as I am, you will accept of me, And I will haue you whatsoe’re you be: Yet well I know, you come of royall race, I see such sparks of honour in your face: Mum. Haue Palmers weeds such power to win fayre Ladies? Fayth, then I hope the next that falles is myne: Vpon condition I no worse might speed, I would for euer weare a Palmers weed. I like an honest and playne dealing wench, That sweares (without exceptions) I will haue you. These foppets, that know not whether to loue a man or no, ex- cept they first go aske their mothers leaue, by this hand, I hate them ten tymes worse then poyson. King. What resteth then our happinesse to procure? Mum. Fayth, go to Church, to make the matter sure. King. It shall be so, because the world shall say, King Leirs three daughters were wedded in one day: The celebration of this happy chaunce, We will deferre, vntill we come to Fraunce. Mum. I like the wooing, that’s not long a doing. Well, for her sake, I know what I know: Ile neuer marry whilest I liue, Except I haue one of these Brittish Ladyes, My humour is alienated from the mayds of Fraunce. Exeunt. Enter Perillus solus. Per. The King hath dispossest himselfe of all, Those to aduance, which scarce will giue him thanks: His youngest daughter he hath turnd away, And no man knowes what is become of her. He soiournes now in Cornwall with the eldest, Who flattred him, vntill she did obtayne That at his hands, which now she doth possesse: And now she sees hee hath no more to giue, It grieues her heart to see her father liue. Oh, whom should man trust in this wicked age, When children thus against their parents rage? But he, the myrrour of mild patience, Puts and his three daughters. Puts vp all wrongs, and neuer giues reply: Yet shames she not in most opprobrious sort, To call him foole and doterd to his face, And sets her parasites of purpose oft, In scoffing wise to offer him disgrace. Oh yron age! O times! O monstrous, vilde, When parents are contemned of the child! His pension she hath halfe restrain’d from him, And will, e’re long, the other halfe, I feare: For she thinks nothing is bestowde in vayne, But that which doth her fathers life maintayne. Trust not alliance; but trust strangers rather, Since daughters proue disloyall to the father. Well, I will counsell him the best I can: Would I were able to redresse his wrong. Yet what I can, vnto my vtmost power, He shall be sure of to the latest houre. Exit. Enter Gonorill, and Skalliger. Gon. I prithy, Skalliger, tell me what thou thinkst: 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 keepe of almes, Who is not able for to keepe himselfe? But as if he were our better, he should thinke To check and snap me vp at euery word. I cannot make me a new fashioned gowne, And set it forth with more then common cost; But his old doting doltish withered wit, Is sure to giue a sencelesse check for it. I cannot make a banquet extraordinary, To grace my selfe, and spread my name abroad, But he, old foole, is captious by and by, And sayth, the cost would well suffice for twice. Iudge then, I pray, what reason ist, that I Should stand alone charg’d with his vaine expence, And that my sister Ragan should go free, To whom he gaue as much, as vnto me? C4 I prithy, The History of King Leir I prithy, Skalliger, tell me, if thou know, By any meanes to rid me of this woe. Skal. Your many fauours still bestowde on me, Binde me in duty to aduise your Grace, How you may soonest remedy this ill. The large allowance which he hath from you, Is that which makes him so forget himselfe: Therefore abbridge it halfe, and you shall see, That hauing lesse, he will more thankfull be: For why, abundance maketh vs forget The fountaynes whence the benefits do spring. Gon. Well, Skalliger, for thy kynd aduice herein, I will not be vngratefull, if I liue: I haue restrayned halfe his portion already, And I will presently restrayne the other, That hauing no meanes to releeue himselfe, He may go seeke elsewhere for better helpe. Exit. Skal. Go, viperous woman, shame to all thy sexe: The heauens, no doubt, will punish thee for this: And me a villayne, that to curry fauour, Haue giuen the daughter counsell ’gainst the father. But vs the world doth this experience giue, That he that cannot flatter, cannot liue. Exit. Enter King of Cornwall, Leir, Perillus & Nobles. Corn. Father, what ayleth you to be so sad? Me thinks, you frollike not as you were wont. Leir. The neerer we do grow vnto our graues, The lesse we do delight in worldly ioyes. Corn. But if a man can frame himselfe to myrth, It is a meane for to prolong his life. Leir. Then welcome sorrow, Leirs only friend, Who doth desire his troubled dayes had end. Corn. Comfort your selfe, father, here comes your daughter, Who much will grieue, I kuow, to see you sad. Enter Gonorill. Leir. But more doth grieue, I feare, to see me liue. Corn. My Gonorill, you come in wished time, To put your father from these pensiue dumps. In fayth, I feare that all things go not well. Gon. What, and his three daughters. Gon. What, do you feare, that I haue angred him? Hath he complaynd of me vnto my Lord? Ile prouide him a piece of bread and cheese; For in a time heele practise nothing else, Then carry tales from one vnto another. Tis all his practise for to kindle strife, ’Twixt you, my Lord, and me your louing wife: But I will take an order, if I can, To cease th’effect, where first the cause began. Corn. Sweet, be not angry in a partiall cause, He ne’re complaynd of thee in all his life. Father, you must not weygh a womans words. Leir. Alas, not I: poore soule, she breeds yong bones, And that is it makes her so tutchy sure. Gon. What, breeds young bones already! you will make An honest woman of me then, belike. O vild olde wretch! who euer heard the like, That seeketh thus his owne child to defame? Corn. I cannot stay to heare this discord sound. Exit. Gon. For any one that loues your company, You may go pack, and seeke some other place, Tosowe the seed of discord and disgrace. Exit. Leir. Thus, say or do the best that e’re I can, Tis wrested straight into another sence. This punishment my heauy sinnes deserue, And more then this ten thousand thousand times: Else aged Leir them could neuer find Cruell to him, to whom he hath bin kind. Why do I ouer-liue my selfe, to see The course of nature quite reuerst in me? Ah, gentle Death, if euer any wight Did wish thy presence with a perfit zeale: Then come, I pray thee, euen with all my heart, And end my sorrowes with thy fatall dart. He weepes. Per. Ah, do not so disconsolate your selfe, Nor dew your aged cheeks with wasting teares. Leir. What man art thou that takest any pity Vpon the worthlesse state of old Leir? D Per. One, The History of King Leir Per. One, who doth beare as great a share of griefe, As if it were my dearest fathers case. Leir. Ah, good my friend, how ill art thou aduisde, For to consort with miserable men: Go learne to flatter, where thou mayst in time Get fauour ’mongst the mighty, and so clyme: For now I am so poore and full of want, As that I ne’re can recompence thy loue. Per. What’s got by flattery, doth not long indure; And men in fauour liue not most secure. My conscience tels me, if I should forsake you, I were the hatefulst excrement on the earth: Which well do know, in course of former time, How good my Lord hath bin to me and mine. Leir. Did I ere rayse thee higher then the rest Of all thy ancestors which were before? Per. I ne’re did seeke it; but by your good Grace, I still inioyed my owne with quietnesse. Leir. Did I ere giue thee liuing, to increase The due reuennues which thy father left? Per. I had ynough, my Lord, and hauing that, What should you need to giue me any more? Leir. Oh, did I euer dispossesse my selfe, And giue thee halfe my Kingdome in good will? Per. Alas, my Lord, there were no reason, why You should haue such a thought, to giue it me. Leir. Nay, if thou talke of reason, then be mute; For with good reason I can thee confute. If they, which first by natures sacred law, Do owe to me the tribute of their liues; If they to whom I alwayes haue bin kinde, And bountifull beyond comparison; If they, for whom I haue vndone my selfe, And brought my age vnto this extreme want, Do now reiect, contemne, despise, abhor me, What reason moueth thee to sorrow for me? Per . Where reason fayles, let teares confirme my loue, And speake how much your passions do me moue. Ah, and his three daughters. Ah, good my Lord, condemne not all for one: You haue two daughters left, to whom I know You shall be welcome, if you please to go. Leir. Oh, how thy words adde sorrow to my soule, To thinke of my vnkindnesse to Cordella! Whom causelesse I did dispossesse of all, Vpon th’vnkind suggesstions of her sisters: And for her sake, I thinke this heauy doome Is falne on me, and not without desert: Yet vnto Ragan was I alwayes kinde, And gaue to her the halfe of all I had: It may be, if I should to her repayre, She would be kinder, and intreat me fayre. Per. No doubt she would, & practise ere’t be long, By force of Armes for to redresse your wrong. Leir. Well, since thou doest aduise me for to go, I am resolu’d to try the worst of wo. Exeunt. Enter Ragan solus. Rag. How may I blesse the howre of my natiuity, Which bodeth vnto me such happy Starres! How may I thank kind fortune, that vouchsafes To all my actions, such desir’d euent! I rule the King of Cambria as I please: The States are all obedient to my will; And looke what ere I say, it shall be so; Not any one, that dareth answere no. My eldest sister liues in royall state, And wanteth nothing fitting her degree: Yet hath she such a cooling card withall, As that her hony sauoureth much of gall. My father with her is quarter-master still, And many times restraynes her of her will: But if he were with me, and seru’d me so, Ide send him packing some where else to go. Ide entertayne him with such slender cost, That he should quickly wish to change his host. Exit. Enter Cornwall, Gonorill, and attendants. Corn. Ah, Gonorill, what dire vnhappy chaunce D2 Hath The History of King Leir Hath sequestred thy father from our presence, That no report can yet be heard of him? Some great vnkindnesse hath bin offred him, Exceeding far the bounds of patience: Else all the world shall neuer me perswade, He would forsake vs without notice made. Gon. Alas, my Lord, whom doth it touch so neere, Or who hath interest in this griefe, but I, Whom sorrow had brought to her longest home, But that I know his qualities so well? I know, he is but stolne vpon my sister At vnawares, to see her how she fares, And spend a little time with her, to note How all things goe, and how she likes her choyce: And when occasion serues, heele steale from her, And vnawares returne to vs agayne. Therefore, my Lord, be frolick, and resolue To see my father here agayne e’re long. Corn. I hope so too; but yet to be more sure, Ile send a Poste immediately to know Whether he be arriued there or no. Exit. Gon. But I will intercept the Messenger, And temper him before he doth depart, With sweet perswassions, and with sound rewards, That his report shhall ratify my speech, And make my Lord cease further to inquire. If he be not gone to my sisters Court, As sure my mind presageth that he is, He happely may, by trauelling vnknowne wayes, Fall sicke, 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 knowes where he is. But say he be in Cambria with the King, And there exclayme against me, as he will: I know he is as welcome to my sister, As water is into a broken ship. Well, after him Ile send such thunderclaps Of and his three daughters. Of slaunder, scandall, and inuented tales, That all the blame shall be remou’d from me, And vnperceiu’d rebound vpon himselfe. Thus with one nayle another Ile expell, And make the world iudge, that I vsde him well. Enter the Messenger that should go to Cambria, With a letter in his hand. Gon. My honest friend, whither away so fast? Mes. To Cambria, Madam, with letters frō from the king. Gon. To whom? Mess. Vnto your father, if he be there. Gon. Let me see them. She opens them. Mess. Madam, I hope your Grace will stand Betweene me and my neck-verse, if I be Calld in question, for opening the Kings letters. Gon. ’Twas I that opened them, it was not thou. Mes. I, but you need not care: and so must I, A hansome man, be quickly trust vp, And when a man’s hang’d, all the world cannot saue him. Gon. 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. Mes. I am o’re-ioy’d, I surfet of sweet words: Kind Queene, had I a hundred liues, I would Spend ninety nyne of them for you, for that word. Gon. I, but thou wouldst keepe one life still, And that’s as many as thou art like to haue. Mes. That one life is not too deare for my good Queene; this sword, this buckler, this head, this heart, these hands, armes, legs, tripes, bowels, and all the members else whatsoeuer, are at your dispose; vse me, trust me, commaund me: if I fayle in any thing, tye me to a dung cart, and make a Scauengers horse of me, and whip me, so long as I haue any skin on my back. Gon. In token of further imployment, take that. Flings him a purse. Mes. A strong Bond, a firme Obligation, good in law, good in law: if I keepe not the condition, let my necke be the forfey- ture of my negligence. D3 Gon. I The History of King Leir Gon. I like thee well, thou hast a good toung. Mes. And as bad a toung if it be set on it, as any Oysterwife at Billinsgate hath: why, I haue made many of my neighbours forsake their houses with rayling vpon them, and go dwell else where; and so by my meanes houses haue bin good cheape in our parish: My toung being well whetted with choller, is more sharpe then a Razer of Palerno. Gon. O, thou art a fit man for my purpose. Mes. Commend me not, sweet Queene, before you try me. As my deserts are, so do think of me. Gon. Well sayd, then this is thy tryall: Instead of carrying the Kings letters to my father, carry thou these letters to my sister, which contayne matter quite contrary to the other: there shal she be giuen to vnderstand, that my father hath detracted her, giuen out slaundrous speaches against her; and that hee hath most intollerably abused me, set my Lord and me at va- riance, and made mutinyes amongst the commons. These things (although it be not so) Yet thou must affirme them to be true, With othes and protestations as will serue, To driue my sister out of loue with him, And cause my will accomplished to be. This do, thou winst my fauour for euer, And makest a hye way of preferment to thee And all thy friends. Mess. It sufficeth, conceyt it is already done: I will so toung-whip him, that I will Leaue him as bare of credit, as a Poulter Leaues a Cony, when she pulls off his skin. Gon. Yet there is a further matter. Mes. I thirst to heare it. Gon. If my sister thinketh conuenient, as my letters importeth, to make him away, hast thou the heart to effect it? Mess. Few words are best in so small a matter: These are but trifles. By this booke I will. kisse the paper. Gon.About and his three daughters. Gon. About it presently, I long till it be done. Mes. I fly, I fly. Exeunt. Enter Cordella solus. I haue bin ouer-negligent to day, In going to the Temple of my God, To render thanks for all his benefits, Which he miraculously hath bestowed on me, In raysing me out of my meane estate, When as I was deuoyd of worldly friends, And placing me in such a sweet content, As far exceeds the reach of my deserts. My kingly husband, myrrour of his time, For zeale, for iustice, kindnesse, and for care To God, his subiects, me, and Common weale, By his appoyntment was ordayned for me. I cannot wish the thing that I do want; I cannot want the thing but I may haue, Saue only this which I shall ne’re obtayne, My fathers loue, oh this I ne’re shall gayne. I would abstayne from any nutryment, And pyne my body to the very bones: Bare foote I would on pilgrimage set forth Vnto the furthest quarters of the earth, And all my life time would I sackcloth weare, And mourning-wise powre dust vpon my head: So he but to forgiue me once would please, That his grey haires might go to heauen in peace. And yet I know now how I him offended, Or wherein iustly I haue deserued blame. Oh sisters! you are much to blame in this, It was not he, but you that did me wrong. Yet God forgiue both him, and you and me, Euen as I doe in perfit charity. I will to Church, and pray vnto my Sauiour, That ere I dye, I may obtayne his fauour. Exit. Enter Leir and Perillus fayntly. Per. Rest on me, my Lord, and stay your selfe, The way seemes tedious to your aged lymmes. D4 Leir. Nay, The History of King Leir Leir. Nay, rest on me, kind friend, and stay thy selfe, Thou art as old as I, but more kind. Per. Ah, good my Lord, it ill befits, that I Should leane vpon the person of a King. Leir. But it fits worse, that I should bring thee forth, That had no cause to come along with me. Through these vncouth paths, and tirefull wayes, And neuer ease thy faynting limmes a whit. Thou hast left all, I, all to come with me, And I, for all, haue nought to guerdon thee. Per. Cease, good my Lord, to aggrauate my woes, With these kind words, which cuts my heart in two, To think your will should want the power to do. Leir. Cease, good Perillus, for to call me Lord, And think me but the shaddow of my selfe. Per. That honourable title will I giue, Vnto my Lord, so long as I do liue. Oh, be of comfort: for I see the place Whereas your daughter keeps her residence. And loe, in happy time the Cambrian Prince Is here arriu’d, to gratify our comming. Enter the Prince of Cambria, Ragan and Nobles: looke vpon them, and whisper together. Leir. Were I best speak, or sit me downe and dye? I am asham’d to tell this heauy tale. Per. Then let me tell it, if you please, my Lord: Tis shame for them that were the cause thereof. Cam. What two old men are those that seeme so sad? Me thinks, I should remember well their lookes. Rag. No, I mistake not, sure it is my father: I must dissemble kindnesse now of force. She runneth to him, and kneeles downe, saying: Father, I bid you welcome, full of griefe, To see your Grace vsde thus vnworthily, And ill befitting for your reuerend age, To come on foot a iourney so indurable. Oh, what disaster chaunce hath bin the cause, To make your cheeks so hollow, spare and leane? He and his three daughters. He cannot speake for weeping: for Gods loue, come. Let vs refresh him with some needfull things, And at more leysure we may better know, Whence springs the ground of this vnlookt for wo. Cam. Come, father, e’re we any further talke, You shall refresh you after this weary walk. Exeunt, manet Ragan. Rag. Comes he to me with finger in the eye, To tell a tale against my sister here? Whom I do know, he greatly hath abusde: And now like a contentious crafty wretch, He first begins for to complayne himselfe, When as himselfe is in the greatest fault. Ile not be partiall in my sisters cause, Nor yet beleeue his doting vayne reports: Who for a trifle (safely) I dare say, Vpon a spleene is stolen thence away: And here (forsooth) he hopeth to haue harbour, And to be moan’d and made on like a child: But ere’t be long, his comming he shall curse, And truely say, he came from bad to worse: Yet will I make fayre weather, to procure Conuenient meanes, and then ile strike it sure. Exit. Enter Messenger solus. Mes. Now happily I am arriued here, Before the stately Palace of the Cambrian King: If Leir be here safe-seated, and in rest, To rowse him from it I will do my best. Enter Ragan. Now bags of gold, your vertue is (no doubt) To make me in my message bold and stout. The King of heauen preserue your Maiesty. And send your Highnesse euerlasting raigne. Ra. Thanks, good my friend; but what imports thy message? Mes. Kind greetings from the Cornwall Queene: The residue these letters will declare. She opens the letters. Rag. How fares our royall sister? Mes. I did leaue her at my parting, in good health. She reads the letter, frownes and stamps. E See The History of King Leir See how her colour comes and goes agayne, Now red as scarlet, now as pale as ash: See how she knits her brow, and bytes her lips, And stamps, and makes a dumbe shew of disdayne, Mixt with reuenge, and violent extreames. Here will be more worke and more crownes for me. Rag. Alas, poore soule, and hath he vsde her thus? And is he now come hither, with intent To set diuorce betwixt my Lord and me? Doth he giue out, that he doth heare report, That I do rule my husband as I list, And therefore meanes 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, dottard that he is. In Cornwall he hath made such mutinies, First, setting of the King against the Queene; Then stirring vp the Commons ’gainst the King; That had he there continued any longer, He had bin call’d in question for his fact. So vpon that occasion thence he fled, And comes thus slily stealing vnto vs: And now already since his coming hither, My Lord and he are growne in such a league, That I can haue no conference with his Grace: I feare, he doth already intimate Some forged cauillations ’gainst my state: Tis therefore best to cut him off in time, Lestslaunderous rumours once abroad disperst, It is too late for them to be reuerst. Friend, as the tennour of these letters shewes, My sister puts great confidence in thee. Mes. She neuer yet committed trust to me, But that (I hope) she found me alwayes faythfull: So will I be to any friend of hers, That hath occasion to imploy my helpe Rag. Hast thou the heart to act a stratagem, And and his three daughters. And giue a stabbe or two, if need require? Mes. I haue a heart compact of Adamant, Which neuer knew what melting pitty meant. I weigh no more the murdring of a man, Then I respect the cracking of a Flea, When I doe catch her byting on my skin. If you will haue your husband or your father, Or both of them sent to another world. Do but commaund me doo’t, it shall be done. Rag. It is ynough, we make no doubt of thee: Meet vs to morrow here, at nyne a clock: Meane while, farewell, and drink that for my sake. Exit. Mes. I, this is it will make me do the deed: Oh, had I euery day such customers, This were the gainefulst trade in Christendome! A purse of gold giu’n for a paltry stabbe! Why, heres a wench that longs to haue a stabbe. Wel, I could giue it her, and ne’re hurt her neither. Enter the Gallian King, and Cordella. King. When will these clouds of sorrow once disperse, And smiling ioy tryumph vpon thy brow? When will this Scene of sadnesse haue an end, And pleasant acts insue, to moue delight? When will my louely Queene cease to lament, And take some comfort to her grieued thoughts? If of thy selfe thou daignst to haue no care, Yet pitty me, whom thy griefe makes despayre. Cor. O, grieue not you, my Lord, you haue no cause; Let not my passions moue 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 stocke be dryed with disdayne, Withered and sere the branch must needes remaine. King. But thou are now graft in another stock; I am the stock, and thou the louely branch: And from my root continuall sap shall flow, To make thee flourish with perpetuall spring. Forget thy father and thy kindred now, E2 Since The History of King Leir Since they forsake thee like inhumane beastes, Thinke they are dead, since all their kindnesse dyes, And bury them, where black obliuion lyes. Think not thou art the daughter of old Leir, Who did vnkindly disinherit thee: But think thou art the noble Gallian Queene, And wife to him that dearely loueth thee: Embrace the ioyes that present with thee dwell, Let sorrow packe and hide her selfe in hell. Cord. Not that I misse my country or my kinne, My old acquaintance or my ancient friends, Doth any whit distemperate my mynd, Knowing you, which are more deare to me, Then Country, kin and all things els can be. Yet pardon me, my gracious Lord, in this: For what can stop the course of natures power? As easy is it for foure-footed beasts, To stay themselues vpon the liquid ayre, And mount aloft into the element, And ouerstrip the feathered Fowles in flight: As easy is it for the slimy Fish, To liue and thriue without the helpe of water As easy is it for the Blackamoore, To wash the tawny colour from his skin, Which all oppose against the course of nature, As I am able to forget my father. King. Myrrour of vertue, Phoenix of our age! Too kind a daughter for an vnkind father, Be of good comfort; for I will dispatch Ambassadors immediately for Brittayne, Vnto the King of Cornwalls Court, whereas Your father keepeth now his residence, And in the kindest maner him intreat, That setting former grieuances apart, He will be pleasde to come and visit vs. If no intreaty will suffice the turne, Ile offer him the halfe of all my Crowne: If that moues not, weele furnish out a Fleet, And and his three daughters. And sayle to Cornwall for to visit him: And there you shall be firmely reconcilde In perfit loue, as earst you were before. Cor. Where toung cannot sufficient thanks afford, The King of heauen remunerate my Lord. King. Only be blithe, and frolick (sweet) with me: This and much more ile do to comfort thee. Enter Messenger solus. Mes. It is a world to see now I am flush, How many friends I purchase euery where! How many seekes to creepe into my fauour, And kisse their hands, and bend their knees to me! No more, here comes the Queene, now shall I know her mind, And hope for to deriue more crownes from her. Enter Ragā Ragan . Rag. My friend, I see thou mind’st thy promise well, And art before me here, me thinks, to day. Mes. I am a poore man, and it like your Grace; But yet I alwayes loue to keepe my word. Ra. Wel, keepe thy word with me, & thou shalt see, That of a poore man I will make thee rich. Mes. I long to heare it, it might haue bin dispatcht, If you had told me of it yesternight. Ra. It is a thing of right strange consequence, And well I cannot vtter it in words. Mes. It is more strange, that I am not by this Beside my selfe, with longing for to heare it. Were it to meet the Deuill in his denne, And try a bout with him for a scratcht face, Ide vndertake it, if you would but bid me. Ra. Ah, good my friend, that I should haue thee do, Is such a thing, as I do shame to speake; Yet it must needs be done. Mes. Ile speak it for thee, Queene: shall I kill thy father? I know tis that, and if it be so, say. Rag. I. Mes. Why, thats ynough. Rag. And yet that is not all. Mes. What else? Rag. Thou must kill that old man that came with him. E3 Mes. Here The History of King Leir Mes. Here are two hands, for eche of them is one. Rag. And for eche hand here is a recompence. Giue him two purses. Mes. Oh, that I had ten hands by myracle, I could teare ten in pieces with my teeth, So in my mouth yould put a purse of gold. But in what maner must it be effected? Rag. To morrow morning ere the breake of day, I by a wyle will send them to the thicket, That is about some two myles from the Court, And promise them to meet them there my selfe, Because I must haue priuate conference, About some newes I haue receyu’d from Cornwall. This is ynough, I know, they will not fayle, 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, Shew him the letter, which my sister sent, There let him read his owne inditement first, And then proceed to execution: But see thou faynt not; for they will speake fayre. Mes. Could he speak words as pleasing as the pipe Of Mercury, which charm’d the hundred eyes Of watchfull Argos, and inforc’d him sleepe: Yet here are words so pleasing to my thoughts, To the purse. As quite shall take away the sound of his. Exit. Rag. About it then, and when thou hast dispatcht, Ile find a meanes to send thee after him. Exit. Enter Cornwall and Gonorill. Corn. I wonder that the Messenger doth stay, Whom we dispatcht for Cambria so long since: If that his answere do not please vs well, And he do shew good reason for delay, Ile teach him how to dally with his King, And to detayne vs in such long suspence. Gon. My Lord, I thinke the reason may be this: My father meanes to come along with him; And and his three daughters. And therefore tis his pleasure he shall stay, For to attend vpon him on the way. Corn. It may be so, and therefore till I know The truth thereof, I will suspend my iudgement. Enter Seruant. Ser. And’t like your Grace, there is an Ambassador Arriued from Gallia and craues admittance to your Maiesty. Corn. From Gallia? what should his message Hither import? is not your father happely Gone thither? well, whatsoere it be, Bid him come in, he shall haue audience. Enter Ambassador. What newes from Gallia? speake Ambassador. Am. The noble King and Queene of Gallia first salutes, By me, their honourable father, my Lord Leir: Next, they commend them kindly to your Graces, As those whose wellfare they intirely wish. Letters I haue to deliuer to my Lord Leir, And presents too, if I might speake with him. Gon. If you might speak with him? why, do you thinke, We are afrayd that you should speake with him? Am. Pardon me, Madam; for I thinke not so, But say so only, ’cause he is not here. Corn. Indeed, my friend, vpon some vrgent cause, He is at this time absent from the Court: But if a day or two you here repose, Tis very likely you shall haue him here, Or else haue certayne notice where he is. Gon. Are not we worthy to receiue your message? Am. I had in charge to do it to himselfe. Gon. It may be then ’twill not be done in haste. to herselfe. How doth my sister brooke the ayre of Fraunce? Am. Exceeding well, and neuer sicke one houre, Since first she set her foot vpon the shore. Gon. I am the more sorry. Am. I hope, not so, Madam. Gon. Didst thou not say, that she was euer sicke, Since the first houre that she arriued there? E4 Am. No, The History of King Leir Amb. No, Madam, I sayd quite contrary. Gon. Then I mistooke thee. Corn. Then she is merry, if she haue her health. Am. Oh no, her griefe exceeds, vntill the time, That she be reconcil’d vnto her father. Gon. God continue it. Am. What, madam? Gon. Why, her health. Am. Amen to that: but God release her griefe, And send her father in a better mind, Then to continue alwayes so vnkind. Corn. Ile be a mediator in her cause, And seeke all meanes to expiat his wrath. Am. Madam, I hope your Grace will do the like. Gon. Should I be a meane to exasperate his wrath Against my sister, whom I loue so deare? no, no. Am. To expiate or mittigate his wrath: For he hath misconceyued without a cause. Gon. O, I, what else? Am. Tis pity it should be so, would it were otherwise. Gon. It were great pity it should be otherwise. Am. Then how, Madam? Gon. Then that they should be reconcilde againe. Am. It shewes you beare an honourable mind. Gon. It shewes thy vnderstanding to be blind, Speakes to her selfe. And that thou hadst need of an Interpreter: Well, I will know thy message ere’t be long, And find a meane to crosse it, if I can. Corn. Come in, my friend, and frolick in our Court, Till certayne notice of my father come. Exeunt. Enter Leir and Perillus. Per. My Lord, you are vp to day before your houre, Tis newes to you to be abroad so rathe. Leir. Tis newes indeed, I am so extreme heauy, That I can scarcely keepe my eye-lids open. Per. And so am I, but I impute the cause To rising sooner then we vse to do. Leir. Hither my daughter meanes to come disguis’d: Ile and his three daughters. Ile sit me downe, and read vntill she come. Pull out a booke and sit downe. Per. Sheele not be long, I warrant you, my Lord: But say, a couple of these they call good fellowes, Should step out of a hedge, and set vpon vs, We were in good case for to answere them. Leir. ’Twere not for vs to stand vpon our hands. Per. I feare, we scant should stand vpon our legs. But how should we do to defend our selues? Leir. Euen pray to God, to blesse vs frō from their hands: For feruent prayer much ill hap withstands. Per. Ile sit and pray with you for company; Yet was I ne’re so heauy in my life. They fall both asleepe. Enter the Messenger or murtherer with two daggers in his hands. Mess. Were it not a mad iest, if two or three of my professiō should meet me, and lay me downe in a ditch, and play robbe thiefe with me, & perforce take my gold away from me, whilest I act this stratagem, and by this meanes the gray beards should escape? Fayth, when I were at liberty againe, I would make no more to do, but go to the next tree, and there hang my selfe. See them and start. But stay, me thinks, my youthes are here already, And with pure zeale haue prayed themselues asleepe. I thinke, they know to what intent they came, And are prouided for another world. He takes their bookes away. Now could I stab them brauely, while they sleepe, And in a maner put them to no payne; And doing so, I shewed them mighty friendship: For feare of death is worse then death it selfe. But that my sweet Queene will’d me for to shew This letter to them, ere I did the deed. Masse, they begin to stirre: ile stand aside; So shall I come vpon them vnawares. They wake and rise. Leir. I maruell, that my daughter stayes so long. F Per. I The History of King Leir Per. I feare, we did mistake the place, my Lord. Leir. God graunt we do not miscarry in the place: I had a short nap, but so full of dread, As much amazeth me to think thereof. Per. Feare not, my Lord, dreames are but fantasies, And slight imaginations of the brayne. Mes. Perswade him so; but ile make him and you Confesse, that dreames do often proue too true. Per. I pray, my Lord, what was the effect of it? I may go neere to gesse what it pretends. Mes. Leaue that to me, I will expound the dreame. Leir. Me thought, my daughters, Gonorill & Ragan, Stood both before me with such grim aspects. Eche brandishing a Faulchion in their hand, Ready to lop a lymme off where it fell, And in their other hands a naked poynyard, Wherwith they stabd me in a hundred places, And to their thinking left me there for dead: But then my youngest daughter, fayre Cordella, Came with a boxe of Balsome in her hand, And powred it into my bleeding wounds, By whose good meanes I was recouered well, In perfit health, as earst I was before: And with the feare of this I did awake, And yet for feare my feeble ioynts do quake. Mes. Ile make you quake for something presently. Stand, Stand. They reele. Leir. We do, my friend, although with much adoe. Mes. Deliuer, deliuer. Per. Deliuer vs, good Lord, from such as he. Mes. You should haue prayed before, while it was time, And then perhaps, you might haue scapt my hands: But you, like faithfull watch-men, fell asleepe, The whilst I came and tooke your Halberds from you. Shew their Bookes. And now you want your weapons of defence, How haue you any hope to be deliuered? This comes, because you haue no better stay, But and his three daughters. But fall asleepe, when you should watch and pray. Leir. My friend, thou seemst to be a proper man. Mes. Sblood, how the old slaue clawes me by the elbow? He thinks, belike, to scape by scraping thus. Per. And it may be, are in some need of money. Mes. That to be false, behold my euidence. Shewes his purses. Leir. If that I haue will do thee any good, I giue it thee, euen with a right good will. Take it. Per. Here, take mine too, & wish with all my heart, To do thee pleasure, it were twice as much. Take his, and weygh them both in his hands. Mes. Ile none of them, they are too light for me. Puts them in his pocket. Leir. Why then farewell: and if thou haue occaon They proer to goe.