Читать книгу Beaumont and Fletcher's Works. Volume 9 - Beaumont Francis - Страница 5

1 Sayl.

Here's nothing, Sir, but poverty and hunger;

No promise of inhabitance; neither track

of Beast,

Nor foot of Man: we have searcht

All this Rocky desart, yet cannot discover any assurance

Here is, or hath been such men.

2 Sayl. Not a relique of any thing they wore;

Nor mark left by 'em, either to find relief,

Or to warn others from the like misfortune.

Believe it, these fellows are both false,

And, to get a little succor in their misery,

Have fram'd this cunning Tale.

Ray. The Ship, I know, is French, and own'd by Pirats,

If not by Albert my arch enemy.

You told me too there was a woman with 'em.

A young and handsome Woman.

Sebast. There was so Sir.

Raym. And such, and such young gallants.

Nic. We told you true, Sir,

That they had no means to quit this Island.

Raym. And that amidst their mutiny to save your lives,

You got their Ship.

Sebast. All is most certain, Sir.

Raym. Where are they then? Where are these Men

Or Woman? we are landed where your faiths

Did assure us, we could not miss their sights.

For this news we took ye to our mercy,

Reliev'd ye, when the furious Sea, and Famine

Strove, which should first devour ye;

Cloath'd, and cherisht ye; us'd ye as those ye say ye are.

Fair Gentlemen, now keep your words,

And shew us this company, your own free pitties spoke of;

These men ye left in misery; the Woman.

Men of those noble breedings you pretend to

Should scorn to lie, or get their food with falshood;

Come, direct us.

Sebast. Alass, Sir, they are gone,

But by what means, or providence, we know not.

2 Sayl. Was not the Captain

A fellow of a fiery, yet brave nature,

A middle stature, and of brown complexion?

Nic. He was, Sir.

Raym. 'Twas Albert,

And my poor wretched sister.

1 Sayl. 'Twas he certain,

I ha been at Sea with him; many times at Sea.

Raym. Come, shew us these Men;

Shew us presently, and do not dally with us.

Seb. We left 'em here; What should we say, Sir?

Here, in this place.

2 Sayl. The earth cannot swallow 'em;

They have no wings, they cannot fly sure.

Raym. You told us too

Of heaps of treasure, and of sums conceal'd,

That set their heart[s] a fire; we see no such thing,

No such sign; What can ye say to purge ye?

What have ye done with these men?

Nic. We, Sir?

Raym. You Sir;

For certain I believe ye saw such people.

Sebast. By all that's good,

By all that's pure and honest,

By all that's holy.

Raym. I dare not credit ye,

Ye have so abus'd my hope, that now I hate ye.

1 Sayl. Let's put 'em in their ragged clothes again Captain,

For certain they are knaves, lets e'en deliver 'em

To their old fruitful Farm; here let 'em walk the Island.

Sebast. If ye do so, we shall curse your mercies.

Nic. Rather put us to Sea again.

Raym. Not so.

Yet this I'll do, because ye say ye are Christians,

Though I hardly credit it: bring in the boat,

And all aboard again, but these two wretches;

Yet leave 'em four dayes meat. If in that time,

(For I will search all nookes of this strange Island)

I can discover any tract of these men,

Alive or dead, I'll bear ye off, and honor ye;

If not, ye have found your Graves; so farewell.

Nic. That goodness dwells above, and knows us innocent,

Comfort our lives, and at his pleasure quit us.

Sebast. Come Cousin, come; old time will end our story:

But no time (if we end well) ends our glory.

Ros. Use 'em with all the austerity that may be,

They are our slaves; turn all those pitties,

Those tender reluctations that should become your sex,

To stern anger; and when ye look upon 'em,

Look with those eyes that wept those bitter sorrows,

Those cruelties ye suffer'd by their Rapines.

Some five dayes hence that blessed hour comes

Most happy to me, that knit this hand to my dear husbands,

And both our hearts in mutual bands.

That hour Ladies.

Cla. What of that hour?

Ros. Why, on that hour daughter,

And in the height of all our celebrations,

Our dear remembrances of that dear Man,

And those that suffer'd with him, our fair kinsmen,

Their lives shall fall a sacrifice to vengeance,

Their lives that ruin'd his; 'tis a full justice.

I will look glorious in their bloods;

And the most Noble spirit of Sebastian,

That perisht by the pride of these French Pirates,

Shall smile in Heaven, and bless the hand that kill'd 'em.

Look strictly all unto your prisoners;

For he that makes a scape beyond my vengeance,

Or entertains a hope by your fair usage;

Take heed, I say, she that deceives my trust,

Again take heed: her life, and that's but light neither;

Her life in all the tortures my spirit can put on.

All. We shall be careful.

Ros. Do so.

Cla. You are angry Mother, and ye are old too,

Forgetting what men are: but we shall temper ye.

How fare your prisoners, Ladies? in what formes

Do they appear in their afflictions?

Jul. Mine fare but poorly;

For so I am commanded: 'tis none of their fault.

Cla. Of what sort are they?

Jul. They say they are Gentlemen.

But they shew Mungrels.

Cla. How do they suffer?

Jul. Faith like boyes;

They are fearful in all fortunes; when I smile

They kneel, and beg to have that face continued;

And like poor slaves, adore the ground I go on.

When I frown, they hang their most dejected heads,

Like fearful sheephounds; shew 'em a crust of bread

They'll Saint me presently, and skip like Apes

For a sup of Wine. I'll whip 'em like hackneys,

Saddle 'em, ride 'em, do what I will with 'em.

Cla. Tush, these are poor things.

Have they names like Christians?

Jul. Very fair names: Franvile, Lamure, and Morillat;

And brag of great kindreds too. They offer very handsomely,

But that I am a fool, and dare not venture.

They are sound too o'my conscience,

Or very near upon't.

Cla. Fy, away fool.

Jul. They tell me,

If they might be brought before you,

They would reveale things of strange consequence.

Cla. Their base poor fears.

Jul. I, that makes me hate 'em too;

For if they were but manly to their sufferance,

Sure I should strain a point or two.

Cla. An hour hence I'll take a view of e'm,

And hear their business. Are your Men thus too?

Cro. Mine? No, gentle Madam, mine were not cast

In such base molds; afflictions, tortures,

Are names and natures of delight, to my men;

All sorts of cruelties they meet like pleasures.

I have but two; the one they call Du-pont,

Tibalt Du-pont; the other the Ship-master.

Cla. Have they not lives, and fears?

Cro. Lives they have Madam;

But those lives never linkt to such companions

As fears or doubts.

Cla. Use 'em Nobly;

And where you find fit subjects for your pitties

Let it become ye to be courteous;

My Mother will not alwayes be thus rigorous.

Hip. Mine are Saylors Madam,

But they sleep soundly, and seldom trouble me, unless it be when

They dream sometimes of fights and tempests;

Then they rore and whistle for Cans of Wine,

And down they fling me; and in that rage,

(For they are violent fellows) they play such reaks.

If they have meat, they thank me;

If none, they heartily desire to be hang'd quickly.

And this is all they care.

Cla. Look to 'em diligently; and where your pitties tells ye

They may deserve, give comfort.

All. We will.

Cla. Come hither, be not frighted;

Think not ye steal this liberty, for we give it,

Your tender innocence assures me, Virgin,

Ye had no share in those wrongs these men did us;

I find ye are not hardned in such mischiefs.

Your brother was mis-led sure,

Foully mis-led.

Amin. How much I fear these pities!

Cla. Certain he was, so much I pity him;

And for your sake, whose eyes plead for him;

Nay, for his own sake.

Amin. Ha!

Cla. For I see about him

Women have subtill eyes, and look narrowly;

Or I am much abus'd: many fair promises;

Nay beyond those, [too] many shadowed virtues.

Amin. I think he is good.

Cla. I assure my self he will be;

And out of that assurance take this comfort,

For I perceive your fear hath much dejected ye.

I love your brother.

Amin. Madam.

Cla. Nay, do not take it for a dreamt of favor,

That comforts in the sleep, and awake vanishes;

Indeed I love him.

Amin. Do ye indeed?

Cla. You doubt still, because ye fear his safety;

Indeed he is the sweetest man I ere saw;

I think the best. Ye may hear without blushes,

And give me thanks, if ye please, for my curtesie.

Amin. Madam, I ever must;

Yet witness Heaven, they are hard pull'd from me.

Believe me, Madam, so many imperfections I could find,

(Forgive me Grace for lying) and such wants,

('Tis to an honest use) such poverties,

Both in his main proportion, and his mind too;

There are a hundred handsomer; (I lie leudly)

Your noble usage, Madam, hath so bound me to ye,

That I must tell ye.

Cla. Come, tell your worst.

Amin. He is no husband for ye.

I think ye mean in that fair way.

Cla. Ye have hit it.

Amin. I am sure ye have hit my heart.

You will find him dangerous, Madam;

As fickle as the flying ayr, proud, jealous,

Soon glutted in your sweets, and soon forgetful;

I could say more, and tell ye I have a brother,

Another brother, that so far excells this,

Both in the ornaments of Man, and making.

Cla. If you were not his sister, I should doubt ye mainly;

Doubt ye for his love, ye deal so cunningly.

Do not abuse me, I have trusted ye with more than life,

With my first love; be careful of me.

Amin. In what use, Madam?

Cla. In this Lady,

Speak to him for me, you have power upon him;

Tell him I love him, tell him I dote on him:

It will become your tongue.

Amin. Become my grave.

O fortune, O cursed fortune!

Cla. Tell him his liberty,

And all those with him; all our wealth and Jewels.

Good sister, for I'll call ye so.

Amin. I shall Lady,

Even die, I hope.

Cla. Here's Meat and Wine, pray take it,

And there he lies; give him what liberty you please;

But still conceal'd. What pleasure you shall please, Sister.

He shall ne'er want again. Nay, see an you'l take it;

Why do you study thus?

Amin. To avoid mischiefs, if they should happen.

Cla. Goe, and be happy for me.

Amin. O blind fortune;

Yet happy thus far, I shall live to see him,

In what strange desolation lives he here now?

Sure this Curtain will reveale.

Alb. Who's that? ha!

Some gentle hand, I hope, to bring me comfort.

Or if it be my death, 'tis sweetly shadowed.

Amin. Have ye forgot me, Sir?

Alb. My Aminta?

Amin. She Sir,

That walks here up and down an empty shadow,

One, that for some few hours

But wanders here, carrying her own sad Coffin,

Seeking some Desart place to lodge her griefs in.

Alb. Sweet sorrow welcome, welcome noble grief;

How got you this fair liberty to see me?

For sorrows in your shape are strangers to me.

Amin. I come to counsel ye.

Alb. Ye are still more welcome;

For good friends in afflictions give good Councels.

Pray then proceed.

Amin. Pray eat first, ye shew faint;

Here's Wine to refresh ye too.

Alb. I thank ye dear.

Amin. Drink again.

Alb. Here's to our loves.

How, turn and weep!

Pray pledge it: this happiness we have yet left,

Our hearts are free. Not pledge it? Why?

And though beneath the Axe this health were holy,

Why do ye weep thus?

Amin. I come to woo ye.

Alb. To woo me Sweet? I am woo'd and won already,

You know I am yours. This pretty way becomes ye.

But you would deceive my sorrows; that's your intent.

Amin. I would I could, I should not weep, but smile.

Do ye like your Meat and Wine?

Alb. Like it?

Amin. Do you like your liberty?

Alb. All these I well may like.

Amin. Then pray like her that sent 'em.

Do ye like wealth, and most unequal'd beauty?

Alb. Peace, indeed you'l make me angry.

Amin. Would I were dead that ask it,

Then ye might freely like, and I forgive ye.

Alb. What like, and who? add not more misery

To a man that's fruitful in afflictions.

Who is't you would have me like?

Who sent these comforts?

Amin. I must tell.

Alb. Be bold.

Amin. But be you temperate.

If you be bold I die. The young fair Virgin;

(Sorrow hath made me old.) O hearken,

And wisely hark, the Governess daughter:

That Star that strikes this Island full of wonder,

That blooming sweetness.

Alb. What of her?

Amin. She sent it: and with it,

It must be out, she dotes on ye,

And must enjoy ye: else no joy must find ye.

Alb. And have you the patience to deliver this?

Amin. A sister may say much, and modestly.

Alb. A sister?

Amin. Yes, that name undid ye;

Undid us both: had ye nam'd Wife, she had fear'd ye;

And fear'd the sin she follow'd; She had shun'd, yea

Her Virgin modesty had not touch'd at ye.

But thinking you were free, hath kindled a fire,

I fear will hardly be extinguisht.

Alb. Indeed I played the fool.

Amin. O my best Sir, take heed,

Take heed of lies. Truth, though it trouble some minds,

Some wicked minds, that are both dark and dangerous:

Yet it preserves it self, comes off pure, innocent,

And like the Sun, though never so eclips'd,

Must break in glory. O Sir, lie no more.

Alb. Ye have read me a fair Lecture,

And put a spell upon my tongue for fayning.

But how will you counsel now?

Amin. Ye must study to forget me.

Alb. How?

Amin. Be patient.

Be wise and patient, it conce[r]ns ye highly.

Can ye lay by our loves? But why should I doubt it?

Ye are a man, and man may shift affections,

'Tis held no sin. To come to the point,

Ye must lose me; many and mighty reasons.

Alb. Hear me Aminta,

Have you a man that loves you too, that feeds ye,

That sends ye liberty? Has this great Governess

A noble son too, young, and apt to catch ye?

Am I, because I am in bonds, and miserable,

My health decay'd, my youth and strength half blasted,

My fortune like my waining self, for this despis'd?

Am I for this forsaken? a new love chosen,

And my affections, like my fortunes, wanderers?

Take heed of lying, you that chid me for it;

And shew'd how deep a sin it was, and dangerous.

Take heed, your self, you swore you lov'd me dearly;

No few, nor little oathes you swore Aminta,

Those seal'd with no small faith, I then assur'd my self.

O seek no new wayes to cozen truth.

Amin. I do not.

By love it self I love thee,

And ever must, nor can all deaths dissolve it.

Alb. Why do you urge me thus then?

Amin. For your safety,

To preserve your life.

Alb. My life, I do confess, is hers,

She gives it,

And let her take it back, I yield it.

My loves intirely thine, none shall touch at it;

None, my Aminta, none.

Amin. Ye have made me happy,

And now I know ye are mine. Fortune, I scorn thee.

Goe to your rest, and I'll sit by ye;

Whilst I have time I'll be your mate, and comfort ye,

For only I am trusted: you shall want nothing,

Not a liberty that I can steal ye.

Alb. May we not celebrate our loves Aminta?

And where our wishes cannot meet.

Amin. You are wanton,

But with cold kisses I'll allay that fever;

Look for no more, and that in private too.

Believe me, I shall blush else.

But, let's consider, we are both lost else.

Alb. Let's in, and prevent fate.

Tib. You do well to ayr us, Ladies, we shall be musty else.

What are your wise wills now?

Cro. You are very crank still.

Tib. As crank as a holy Fryer, fed with hail-stones.

But do ye bring us out to bait, like Bulls?

Mast. Or are you weary of the charge ye are at?

Turn us abroad again, let's jog Ladies;

We are gross, and course, unfit for your sweet pleasures.

Tib. Knock off our shooes, and turn's to grass.

Cro. You are determined

Still to be stubborn then: it well becomes ye.

Tib. An humour Lady that contents a prisoner.

A sullen fit sometimes serves for a second course.

Jul. Ye may as well be kind,

And gain our favours; gain meat and drink,

And lodging to rest your bones.

Tib. My bones have bore me thus long,

And had their share of pains and recreations;

If they fail now, they are no fair companions.

Cro. Are ye thus harsh to all our Sex?

Mast. We cannot be merry without a Fidler,

Pray strike up your Tabors, Ladies.

Cro. The fools despise us.

Jul. We know ye are very hungry now.

Tib. Yes 'tis very wholsom, Ladies;

For we that have gross bodies, must be careful

Have ye no piercing air to stir our stomachs?

We are beholding to ye for our Ordinary.

Jul. Why slaves, 'tis in our power to hang ye.

Mast. Very likely.

'Tis in our powers then to be hang'd, and scorn ye.

Hanging's as sweet to us, as dreaming to you.

Cro. Come, be more courteous.

Jul. Do, and then ye shall be pleas'd, and have all necessaries.

Tib. Give me some Ratsbane then.

Cro. And why Ratsbane, Mounsieur?

Tib. We live like vermine here, and eat up your cheese,

Your mouldy cheese, that none but Rats would bite at;

Therefore 'tis just that Ratsbane should reward us.

We are unprofitable, and our Ploughs are broken;

There is no hope of Harvest this year, Ladies.

Jul. Ye shall have all content.

Mast. I, and we'll serve your uses.

I had rather serve hogs, there's more delight in't;

Your greedy appetites are never satisfied;

Just like hungry Camels, sleeping or waking

You chew the cud still.

Cro. By this hand we'll starve ye.

Mast. 'Tis a noble courtesie.

I had as lief ye should famish me, as founder me:

To be jaded to death, is only fit for a hackney.

Here be certain Tarts of Tarr about me,

And parcels of potargo in my Jerkin,

As long as these last.

Jul. Which will not last ever.

Tib. Then we'll eat one another like good fellows.

A shoulder of his for a haunch of mine.

Jul. 'Tis excellent.

Tib. 'Twill be as we'll dress it Ladies.

Cro. Why sure ye are not men?

Mast. Ye had best come search us,

A Seaman is seldom without a salt Eele.

Tib. I am bad enough,

And in my nature a notorious wencher;

And yet ye make me blush at your immodesty.

Tell me good Master, didst ever see such things?

Mast. I could like 'em, though they were lewdly given,

If they could say no; [but fie on 'em,

They gape like Oysters.]

Tib. Well, ye may hang, or starve us;

But your commanding impudence shall never fear us.

Had ye by blushing signs, soft cunings, crept into us,

And shew'd us your necessities: we had met your purposes,

Supply'd your wants. We are no Saints Ladies;

I love a good wench, as I love my life,

And with my life I will maintain my love:

But such a sordid impudence I'll spit at.

Let's to our dens again. Come noble Master.

You know our minds, Ladies:

This is the faith in which we'll die.

Cro. I do admire 'em.

Jul. They are noble fellows,

And they shall not want, for this.

Cro. But see, Clarinda comes.

Farewel, I'll to my charge.

Cla. Bring out those prisoners now,

And let me see 'em, and hear their business.

Jul. I will, Madam.

Cla. I hope she hath prevail'd upon her brother.

She has a sweet tongue, and can describe the happiness

My love is ready to fling on him.

And sure he must be glad, [and certain] wonder,

And bless the hour that brought him to this Island.

I long to hear the full joy that he labours with.

Mor. Bless thy Divine Beauty.

Fran. Mirror of sweetness.

Lam. Ever-springing brightness.

Cla. Nay, Stand up Gentlemen, and leave your flatteries.

Mor. She calls us Gentlemen, sure we shall have some meat now.

Cla. I am a mortal creature,

Worship Heaven, and give these attributes

To their Divinities. Methinks ye look but thin.

Mor. Oh we are starv'd, immortal beauty.

Lam. We are all poor starv'd knaves.

Fran. Neither liberty nor meat, Lady.

Mor. We were handsome men, and Gentlemen, and sweet men,

And were once gracious in the eyes of beauties,

But now we look like Rogues;

Like poor starv'd rogues.

Cla. What would ye do if ye were to die now?

Fran. Alas, we were prepar'd. If you will hang us,

Let's have a good meal or two to die with,

To put's in heart.

Mor. Or if you'll drown us,

Let's be drunk first, that we may die merrily,

And bless the founders.

Cla. Ye shall not die so hastily.

What dare ye do to deserve my favour?

Lam. Put us to any service.

Fran. Any bondage,

Let's but live.

Mar. We'll get a world of children,

For we know ye are hainously unprovided that way;

And ye shall beat us when we offend ye;

Beat us abundantly, and take our meat from us.

Cla. These are weak abject things, that shew ye poor ones.

What's the great service ye so oft have threatned,

If ye might see me, and win my favour?

Jul. That business of discovery.

Mor. Oh, I'll tell ye Lady.

Lam. And so will I.

Fran. And I,

Pray let me speak first.

Mor. Good, no confusion.

We are before a Lady that knows manners;

And by the next meat I shall eat, 'tis certain,

This little Gentlewoman that was taken with us.

Cla. Your Captains Sister, she you mean.

Mor. I, I, she's the business that we would open to ye.

You are cousened in her.

Lam. { How, what is't you would open?

Fran. { She is no Sister.

Mor. Good Sirs how quick you are.

She is no Sister, Madam.

Fran. She is his.

Mor. Peace I say.

Cla. What is she?

Mor. Faith, sweet Lady,

She is, as a man would say, his.

Cla. What?

Lam. His Mistriss.

Mor. Or, as some new Translators read, his.

Cla. Oh me!

Mor. And why he should delude you thus,

Unless he meant some villany? these ten weeks

He has had her at Sea, for his own proper appetite.

Lam. His Cabin-mate I'll assure ye.

Cla. No Sister, say ye?

Mor. No more than I am brother to your beauty.

I know not why he should juggle thus.

Cla. Do not lie to me.

Mor. If ye find me lie, Lady, hang me empty.

Cla. How am I fool'd!

Away with 'em Juletta, and feed 'em

But hark ye, with such food as they have given me.

New misery!

Fran. Nor meat nor thanks for all this.

Cla. Make 'em more wretched.

Oh I could burst! curse and kill now,

Kill any thing I meet, Juletta, follow me,

And call the rest along.

Jul. We follow, Madam.

Amint. I must be gone now, else she may suspect me;

How shall I answer her?

Alb. Tell her directly.

Amint. That were too suddain, too improvident;

Fires of this nature must be put out cunningly,

They'll waste all come near 'em else.

Farewel once more.

Alb. Farewel,

And keep my love entire.

Nay, kiss me once again, me thinks we should not part.

Amint. Oh be wise, Sir.

Alb. Nay, one kiss more.

Amin. Indeed you're wanton;

We may be taken too.

Cla. Out thou base woman.

[By Heaven] I'll shoot 'em both.

Cro. Nay stay, brave Lady, hold;

A suddain death cuts off a Nobler vengeance.

Cla. Am I made Bawd to your lascivious meetings?

Are ye grown so wise in sin?

Shut up that villa[ine]: and sirrah,

Now expect my utmost anger.

Let him there starve.

Alb. I mock at your mischiefs.

Cla. Tie that false witch unto that Tree,

There let that savage beasts

Gnaw off her sweetness, and Snakes

Embrace her beauties; tie her, and watch

That none relieve her.

Hip. We could wish ye better fortune, Lady,

But dare not help ye.

Amin. Be your own friends, I thank ye.

Now only my last audit, and my greatest,

Oh Heaven, be kind unto me,

And if it be thy Will, preserve.

Ray. Who is this?

Sure 'tis a woman, I have trode this place,

And found much footing; now I know 'tis peopl'd.

Ha, let me see! 'tis her face.

Oh Heaven! turn this way Maid.

Amin. Oh Raymond, oh Brother.

Raym. Her tongue too: 'tis my Sister; what rude hand!

Nay kiss me first, Oh joy!

Amin. Fly, fly dear brother,

You are lost else.

Jul. A man, a man, a new man.

Raym. What are these?

Cro. An enemy, an enemy.

Cla. Dispatch him,

Take him off, shoot him straight.

Raym. I dare not use my sword, Ladies,

Against such comely foes.

Amin. Oh brother, brother!

Cla. Away with 'em, and in dark prisons bind 'em.

One word reply'd, ye die both.

Now brave mother, follow thy noble anger,

And I'll help thee.