Читать книгу A Select Collection of Old English Plays - Группа авторов - Страница 8
ОглавлениеDionysius. Gronno, do my commandment: strike off Damon’s irons by and by.
Then bring him forth, I myself will see him executed presently.
Gronno. O mighty king, your commandment will I do speedily.
Dionysius. Eubulus, thou hast talked in vain, for sure he shall die.
Shall I suffer my life to stand in peril of every spy?
Eubulus. That he conspired against your person, his accuser cannot say:
He only viewed your city, and will you for that make him away?
Dionysius. What he would have done, the guess is great: he minded me to hurt,
That came so slyly to search out the secret estate of my court.
Shall I still lie in fear? no, no: I will cut off such imps betime,
Lest that to my farther danger too high they climb.
Eubulus. Yet have the mighty gods immortal fame assigned
To all worldly princes, which in mercy be inclined.
Dionysius. Let fame talk what she list, so I may live in safety.
Eubulus. The only mean to that is, to use mercy,
Dionysius. A mild prince the people despiseth.
Eubulus. A cruel king the people hateth.
Dionysius. Let them hate me, so they fear me.
Eubulus. That is not the way to live in safety.
Dionysius. My sword and power shall purchase my quietness.
Eubulus. That is sooner procured by mercy and gentleness.
Dionysius. Dionysius ought to be feared.
Eubulus. Better for him to be well beloved.
Dionysius. Fortune maketh all things subject to my power.
Eubulus. Believe her not, she is a light goddess; she can laugh and low’r.
Dionysius. A king’s praise standeth in the revenging of his enemy.
Eubulus. A greater praise to win him by clemency.
Dionysius. To suffer the wicked to live it is no mercy.
Eubulus. To kill the innocent it is great cruelty.
Dionysius. Is Damon innocent, which so craftily undermined Carisophus,
To understand what he could of king Dionysius?
Which surviewed the haven and each bulwark in the city,
Where battery might be laid, what way best to approach? shall I
Suffer such a one to live, that worketh me such despite?
No, he shall die, then I am safe: a dead dog cannot bite.
Eubulus. But yet, O mighty king,[69] my duty bindeth me
To give such counsel, as with your honour may best agree:
The strongest pillars of princely dignity,
I find, is[70] justice with mercy and prudent liberality:
The one judgeth all things by upright equity,
The other rewardeth the worthy, flying each extremity.
As to spare those which offend maliciously,
It may be called no justice, but extreme injury.
So upon suspicion of each thing not well-proved,
To put to death presently whom envious flattery accused,
It seemeth of tyranny; and upon what fickle ground all tyrants do stand,
Athens and Lacedemon can teach you, if it be rightly scann’d.
And not only these citizens, but who curiously seeks
The whole histories of all the world, not only of Romans and Greeks,
Shall well perceive of all tyrants the ruinous fall,
Their state uncertain, beloved of none, but hated of all.
Of merciful princes to set out the passing felicity
I need not: enough of that even these days do testify.
They live devoid of fear, their sleeps are sound, they dread no enemy,
They are feared and loved, and why? they rule with justice and mercy,
Extending justice to such as wickedly from justice have swerved:
Mercy unto those who in[71] opinion of simpleness have mercy deserved.
Of liberty nought I say, but only this thing,
Liberty upholdeth the state of a king
Whose large bountifulness ought to fall to this issue,
To reward none but such as deserve it for virtue.
Which merciful justice if you would follow, and provident liberality;
Neither the caterpillars of all courts, et fruges consumere nati,
Parasites with wealth puff’d up, should not look so high;
Nor yet for this simple fact poor Damon should die.
Dionysius. With pain mine ears have heard this vain talk of mercy.
I tell thee, fear and terror defendeth kings only:
Till he be gone, whom I suspect, how shall I live quietly,
Whose memory with chilling horror fills my breast day and night violently?
My dreadful dreams of him bereaves my rest; on bed I lie
Shaking and trembling, as one ready to yield his throat to Damon’s sword.
This quaking dread nothing but Damon’s blood can stay:
Better he die, than I to be tormented with fear alway.
He shall die, though Eubulus consent not thereto:
It is lawful, for kings, as they list, all things to do.
Here Gronno [and Snap] bring in Damon, and Pithias meeteth him by the way.
Pithias. O my Damon!
Damon. O my Pithias! seeing death must part us, farewell for ever.
Pithias. O Damon, O my sweet friend!
Snap. Away from the prisoner: what a prease have we here?
Gronno. As you commanded, O mighty king, we have brought Damon.
Dionysius. Then go to: make ready. I will not stir out of this place,
Till I see his head stroken off before my face.
Gronno. It shall be done, sir. [To Damon] Because your eyes have made such a-do.
I will knock down this your lantern, and shut up your shop-window too.
Damon. O mighty king, where as no truth my innocent life can save,
But that so greedily you thirst[72] my guiltless blood to have,
Albeit (even in thought) I had not ought against your person:
Yet now I plead not for life, ne will I crave your pardon.
But seeing in Greece my country, where well I am known,
I have worldly things fit for mine alliance, when I am gone,
To dispose them, ere I die, if I might obtain leisure,
I would account it (O king) for a passing great pleasure:
Not to prolong my life thereby, for which I reckon not this,
But to set my things in a stay: and surely I will not miss,
Upon the faith which all gentlemen ought to embrace,
To return again, at your time to appoint, to yield my body here in this place.
Grant me (O king) such time to despatch this inquiry,[73]
And I will not fail when you appoint, even here my life to pay.[74]
Dionysius. A pleasant request! as though I could trust him absent,
Whom in no wise I cannot trust being present.
And yet though I sware the contrary, do that I require,
Give me a pledge for thy return, and have thine own desire.
He is as near now as he was before.
[Aside.
Damon. There is no surer nor greater pledge than the faith of a gentleman.
Dionysius. It was wont to be, but otherwise now the world doth stand;
Therefore do as I say, else presently yield thy neck to the sword.
If I might with my honour, I would recall my word.
Pithias. Stand to your word, O king, for kings ought nothing say,
But that they would perform in perfect deeds alway.
A pledge you did require, when Damon his suit did meve,
For which with heart and stretched hands most humble thanks I give:
And that you may not say but Damon hath a friend,
That loves him better than his own life, and will do to his end,
Take me, O mighty king: my life I pawn[75] for his:
Strike off my head, if Damon hap at his day to miss.
Dionysius. What art thou, that chargest me with my word so boldly here?
Pithias. I am Pithias, a Greek born, which hold Damon my friend full dear.
Dionysius. Too dear perhaps, to hazard thy life for him: what fondness[76] moveth thee?
Pithias. No fondness at all, but perfect amity.
Dionysius. A mad kind of amity! advise thyself well: if Damon fail at his day,
Which shall be justly appointed, wilt thou die for him, to me his life to pay?
Pithias. Most willingly, O mighty king: if Damon fail, let Pithias die.
Dionysius. Thou seemest to trust his words, that pawnest thy life so frankly.
Pithias. What Damon saith, Pithias believeth assuredly.
Dionysius. Take heed, for [your] life:[77] wordly men break promise in many things.
Pithias. Though wordly men do so, it never haps amongst friends.
Dionysius. What callest thou friends? are they not men, is not this true?
Pithias. Men they be, but such men as love one another only for virtue.
Dionysius. For what virtue dost thou love this spy, this Damon?
Pithias. For that virtue which yet to you is unknown.
Dionysius. Eubulus, what shall I do? I would despatch this Damon fain,
But this foolish fellow so chargeth me, that I may not call back my word again.
Eubulus. The reverent majesty of a king stands chiefly in keeping his promise.
What you have said this whole court beareth witness,
Save your honour, whatsoever you do.
Dionysius. For saving mine honour, I must forbear my will: go to.
Pithias, seeing thou tookest me at my word, take Damon to thee:
For two months he is thine: unbind him, I set him free;
Which time once expired, if he appear not the next day by noon,
Without further delay thou shalt lose thy life, and that full soon.
Whether he die by the way, or lie sick in his bed,
If he return not then, thou shalt either hang or lose thy head.
Pithias. For this, O mighty king, I yield immortal thanks. O joyful day!
Dionysius. Gronno, take him to thee: bind him, see him kept in safety:
If he escape, assure thyself for him thou shalt die.
Eubulus, let us depart, to talk of this strange thing within.
Eubulus. I follow.
[Exeunt.
Gronno. Damon, thou servest the gods well today; be thou of comfort.
As for you, sir, I think you will be hanged in sport.
You heard what the king said; I must keep you safely:
By Cock, so I will, you shall rather hang than I.
Come on your way.
Pithias. My Damon, farewell; the gods have thee in keeping.
Damon. O my Pithias, my pledge, farewell; I part from thee weeping.
But joyful at my day appointed I will return again,
When I will deliver thee from all trouble and pain,
Stephano will I leave behind me to wait upon thee in prison alone,
And I, whom fortune hath reserved to this misery, will walk home.
Ah my Pithias, my pledge, my life, my friend, farewell.
Pithias. Farewell, my Damon.
Damon. Loth am I to depart. Sith sobs my trembling tongue doth stay,
O music, sound my doleful plaints, when I am gone my way.
[Exit Damon.
Gronno. I am glad he is gone, I had almost wept too. Come, Pithias,
So God help me, I am sorry for thy foolish case
Wilt thou venter thy life for a man so fondly?
Pithias. It is no venter: my friend is just, for whom I desire to die.
Gronno. Here is a madman! I tell thee, I have a wife whom I love well,
And if ich would die for her, chould ich were in hell.
Wilt thou do more for a man than I would for a woman?
Pithias. Yea, that I will.
Gronno. Then come on your ways, you must to prison haste.
I fear you will repent this folly at last.
Pithias. That shalt thou never see. But O music, as my Damon requested thee,
Sound out thy doleful tunes in this time of calamity.
[Exeunt. Here the regals play a mourning song, and Damon cometh in in mariner apparel and Stephano with him.
Damon. Weep no more, Stephano, this is but destiny:
Had not this happ’d, yet I know I am born to die:
Where or in what place, the gods know alone,
To whose judgment myself I commit. Therefore leave off thy moan,
And wait upon Pithias in prison till I return again,
In whom my joy, my care and life doth only remain.
Stephano. O my dear master, let me go with you; for my poor company
Shall be some small comfort in this time of misery.
Damon. O Stephano, hast thou been so long with me,
And yet dost not know the force of true amity?
I tell thee once again, my friend and I are but one:
Wait upon Pithias, and think thou art with Damon.
Whereof I may not now discourse, the time passeth away;
The sooner I am gone, the shorter shall be my journey:
Therefore farewell, Stephano, commend me to my friend Pithias,
Whom I trust to deliver in time out of this woful case.
Stephano. Farewell, my dear master, since your pleasure is so.
O cruel hap! O poor Stephano!
O cursed Carisophus, that first moved this tragedy!—
But what a noise is this? is all well within, trow ye?
I fear all be not well within, I will go see.—
Come out, you weasel: are you seeking eggs in Damon’s chest?
Come out, I say, wilt thou be packing? by Cock, you were best.
Carisophus. How durst thou, villain, to lay hands on me?
Stephano. Out, sir knave, or I will send ye.
Art thou not content to accuse Damon wrongfully,
But wilt thou rob him also, and that openly?
Carisophus. The king gave me the spoil: to take mine own wilt thou let me?[78]
Stephano. Thine own, villain! where is thine authority?
Carisophus. I am authority of myself; dost thou not know?
Stephano. By’r Lady, that is somewhat; but have you no more to show?
Carisophus. What, if I have not?
Stephano. Then for an earnest penny take this blow.
I shall bombast you, you mocking knave; chill put pro in my purse for this time.[79]
Carisophus. Jack, give me my sword and target.
Jack. I cannot come to you, master, this knave doth me let. Hold, master.
Stephano. Away, Jackanapes, else I will col’phise you[80] by and by:
Ye slave, I will have my pennyworths of thee therefore, if I die.
About, villain!
Carisophus. O citizens, help to defend me.
Stephano. Nay, they will rather help to hang thee.
Carisophus. Good fellow, let us reason of the matter quietly: beat me no more.
Stephano. Of this condition I will stay, if thou swear, as thou art an honest man,
Thou wilt say nothing to the king of this when I am gone.
Carisophus. I will say nothing; here is my hand, as I am an honest man.
Stephano. Then say on thy mind: I have taken a wise oath on him, have I not, trow ye?
To trust such a false knave upon his honesty?
As he is an honest man (quoth you?) he may bewray all to the king,
And break his oath for this never a whit—but, my franion,[81] I tell you this one thing:
If you disclose this, I will devise such a way,
That whilst thou livest, thou shalt remember this day.
Carisophus. You need not devise for that, for this day is printed in my memory;
I warrant you, I shall remember this beating till I die:
But seeing of courtesy you have granted that we should talk quietly,
Methinks in calling me knave you do me much injury.
Stephano. Why so, I pray thee heartily?
Carisophus. Because I am the king’s man: keeps the king any knaves?
Stephano. He should not; but what he doth, it is evident by thee,
And as far as I can learn or understand,
There is none better able to keep knaves in all the land.
Carisophus. O sir, I am a courtier: when courtiers shall hear tell,
How you have used me, they will not take it well.
Stephano. Nay, all right courtiers will ken me thank;[82] and wot you why?
Because I handled a counterfeit courtier in his kind so finely.
What, sir? all are not courtiers that have a counterfeit show;
In a troop of honest men some knaves may stand, ye know,
Such as by stealth creep in under the colour of honesty,
Which sort under that cloak do all kinds of villainy,
A right courtier is virtuous, gentle, and full of urbanity,
Hurting no man, good to all, devoid of villainy:
But such as thou art, fountains of squirrility and vain delights;
Though you hang by the court, you are but flatt’ring parasites;
As well deserving the right name of courtesy,
As the coward knight the true praise of chivalry.
I could say more, but I will not, for that I am your well-willer.
In faith, Carisophus, you are no courtier but a caterpillar,
A sycophant, a parasite, a flatterer, and a knave.
Whether I will or no, these names you must have:
How well you deserve this by your deeds it is known,
For that so unjustly thou hast accused poor Damon,
Whose woful case the gods help alone.
Carisophus. Sir, are you his servant, that you pity his case so?
Stephano. No, bum troth, goodman Grumb, his name is Stephano:
I am called Onaphets,[83] if needs you will know.
The knave beginneth to sift me, but I turn my name in and out,
Cretizo cum Cretense,[84] to make him a lout.
[Aside.
Carisophus. What mumble you with yourself, Master Onaphets?
Stephano. I am reckoning with myself how I may pay my debts.
Carisophus. You have paid me more than you did owe me.
Stephano. Nay, upon a farther reckoning, I will pay you more, if I know
Either you talk of that is done, or by your sycophantical envy
You prick forth Dionysius the sooner, that Damon may die:
I will so pay thee, that thy bones shall rattle in thy skin.
Remember what I have said; Onaphets is my name.
[Exit.
Carisophus. The sturdy knave is gone, the devil him take!
He hath made my head, shoulders, arms, sides, and all to ache.
Thou whoreson villain boy, why didst thou wait no better?
As he paid me, so will I not die thy debtor.
[Strikes him.
Jack. Master, why do you fight with me? I am not your match, you see:
You durst not fight with him that is gone, and will you wreak your anger on me?
Carisophus. Thou villain, by thee I have lost mine honour,
Beaten with a cudgel like a slave, a vacabone, or a lazy lubber,
And not given one blow again. Hast thou handled me well?
Jack. Master, I handled you not, but who did handle you very handsomely, you can tell.
Carisophus. Handsomely! thou crack-rope.[85]
Jack. Yea, sir, very handsomely: I hold you a groat,
He handled you so handsomely, that he left not one mote in your coat.
Carisophus. O, I had firk’d him trimly, thou villain, if thou hadst given me my sword.
Jack. It is better as it is, master, believe me, at a word.
If he had seen your weapon, he would have been fiercer,
And so perhaps beat you worse, I speak it with my heart,
You were never at the dealing of fence-blows, but you had four away for your part.
It is but your luck, you are man good enough;
But the Welsh Onaphets was a vengeance-knave, and rough.
Master, you were best go home and rest in your bed,
Methinks your cap waxeth too little for your head.
Carisophus. What! doth my head swell?
Jack. Yea, as big as a codshead, and bleeds too.
Carisophus. I am ashamed to show my face with this hue.
Jack. No shame at all; men have been beaten far better than you.
Carisophus. I must go to the chirurgeon’s; what shall I say, when I am a-dressing?
Jack. You may say truly you met with a knave’s blessing.
[Exeunt.
Here entereth Aristippus.
Aristippus. By mine own experience I prove true that many men tell,
To live in court not beloved, better be in hell:
What crying out, what cursing, is there within of Carisophus,
Because he accused Damon to King Dionysius!
Even now he came whining and crying into the court for the nonce,
Showing that one Onaphets had broke his knave’s sconce.
Which strange name when they heard every man laugh’d heartily,
And I by myself scann’d his name secretly;
For well I knew it was some mad-headed child
That invented this name, that the log-headed knave might be beguil’d.
In tossing it often with myself to and fro,
I found out that Onaphets backward spelled Stephano.
I smiled in my sleeve, how to see by turning his name he dress’d him,
And how for Damon his master’s sake with a wooden cudgel he bless’d him.
None pitied the knave, no man nor woman; but all laugh’d him to scorn.
To be thus hated of all, better unborn:
Far better Aristippus hath provided, I trow;
For in all the court I am beloved both of high and low.
I offend none, insomuch that women sing this to my great praise,
Omnis Aristippum decuit color, et locus et res.
But in all this jollity one thing ’mazeth me,
The strangest thing that ever was heard or known,
Is now happened in this court by that Damon,
Whom Carisophus accused: Damon is now at liberty,
For whose return Pithias his friend lieth in prison, alas, in great jeopardy.
To-morrow is the day, which day by noon if Damon return not, earnestly
The king hath sworn that Pithias should die;
Whereof Pithias hath intelligence very secretly,
Wishing that Damon may not return, till he hath paid
His life for his friend. Hath it been heretofore ever said,
That any man for his friend would die so willingly?
O noble friendship! O perfect amity!
Thy force is here seen, and that very perfectly.
The king himself museth hereat, yet he is far out of square,
That he trusteth none to come near him: not even his own daughters will he have
Unsearch’d to enter his chamber, while[86] he hath made barbers his beard to shave,
Not with knife or razor, for all edge-tools he fears,
But with hot burning nutshells they singe off his hairs.
Was there ever man that lived in such misery?
Well, I will go in—with a heavy and pensive heart, too,
To think how Pithias, this poor gentleman, to-morrow shall die.
[Exit.
Here entereth Jack and Will.
Jack. Well, by mine honesty, I will mar your monkey’s[87] face, if you so fondly prate.
Will. Jack, by my troth, seeing you are without the court-gate,
If you play Jack-napes, in mocking my master and despising my face,
Even here with a pantable[88] I will you disgrace;
And though you have a far better face than I,
Yet who is better man of us two these fists shall try,
Unless you leave your taunting.
Jack. Thou began’st first; didst thou now not say even now,
That Carisophus my master was no man but a cow,
In taking so many blows, and gave[89] never a blow again?
Will. I said so indeed, he is but a tame ruffian,
That can swear by his flask and twich-box,[90] and God’s precious lady,
And yet will be beaten with a faggot-stick.
These barking whelps were never good biters,
Ne yet great crakers were ever great fighters:
But seeing you egg me so much, I will somewhat more recite;
I say, Carisophus thy master is a flatt’ring parasite;
Gleaning away the sweet from the worthy in all the court.
What tragedy hath he moved of late? the devil take him! he doth much hurt.
Jack. I pray you, what is Aristippus thy master, is not he a parasite too,
That with scoffing and jesting in the court makes so much a-do?
Will. He is no parasite, but a pleasant gentleman full of courtesy.
Thy master is a churlish lout, the heir of a dung-fork; as void of honesty
As thou art of honour.
Jack. Nay, if you will needs be prating of my master still,
In faith I must cool you, my friend, dapper Will:
Take this at the beginning.
[Strikes him.
Will. Praise well your winning, my pantable is as ready as yours.
Jack. By the mass, I will box you.
Will. By Cock, I will fox you.
Jack. Will, was I with you?
Will. Jack, did I fly?
Jack. Alas, pretty cockerel, you are too weak;
Will. In faith, doating dottrel,[91] you will cry creak.
Here entereth Snap.
Snap. Away, you crack-ropes, are you fighting at the court-gate?
And I take you here again, I will swinge you both: what!
[Exit.
Jack. I beshrew Snap the tipstaff, that great knave’s heart, that hither did come,
Had he not been, you had cried ere this, Victus, victa, victum:
But seeing we have breathed ourselves, if ye list,
Let us agree like friends, and shake each other by the fist.
Will. Content am I, for I am not malicious; but on this condition,
That you talk no more so broad of my master as here you have done.
But who have we here? ’tis Coals I spy[92] coming yonder.
Jack. Will, let us slip aside and view him well.
Here entereth Grim the Collier, whistling.
Grim. What devil! ich ween the porters are drunk, will they not dup[93] the gate to-day?
[To] take in coals for the king’s own mouth;[94] will nobody stir, I say?
Ich might have lain tway hours longer in my bed,
Cha tarried so long here, that my teeth chatter in my head.
Jack. Will, after our falling out wilt thou laugh merrily?
Will. Ay, marry, Jack, I pray thee heartily.
Jack. Then follow me, and hem in a word now and then—
What brawling knave is there at the court-gate so early?
Will. It is some brainsick villain, I durst lay a penny.
Jack. Was it you,[95] sir, that cried so loud, I trow,
And bid us take in coals for the king’s mouth even now?
Grim. ’Twas I, indeed.
Jack. Why, sir, how dare you speak such petty treason?
Doth the king eat coals at any season?
Grim. Here is a gay world! boys now sets old men to school.
I said well enough: what, Jack-sauce, think’st cham a fool?
At bakehouse, butt’ry-hatch, kitchen, and cellar,
Do[96] they not say for the king’s mouth?
Will. What, then, goodman collier?
Grim. What, then! seeing without coals thee cannot finely dress the king’s meat,
May I not say, take in coals for the king’s mouth, though coals he do not eat?
Jack. James Christe! came ever from a collier an answer so trim?
You are learned, are you not, father Grim?
Grim. Grim is my name indeed, cham not learned, and yet the king’s collier:
This vorty winter cha been to the king a servitor,
Though I be not learned, yet cha mother-wit enough, whole and some.
Will. So it seems, you have so much mother-wit, that you lack your father’s wisdom.
Grim. Mass, cham well-beset, here’s a trim cast of murlons.[97]
What be you, my pretty cockerels, that ask me these questions?
Jack. Good faith, Master Grim,[98] if such merlins on your pouch may light,
They are so quick of wing, that quickly they can carry it out of your sight;
And though we are cockerels now, we shall have spurs one day,
And shall be able perhaps to make you a capon [to your pay.[99]]
But to tell you the truth, we are the porter’s men, which early and late
Wait on such gentlemen as you, to open the court-gate.
Grim. Are ye servants then?
Will. Yea, sir; are we not pretty men?
Grim. Pretty men, quoth you? nay, you are strong men, else you could not bear these breeches.
Will. Are these such[100] great hose? in faith, goodman collier, you see with your nose:
By mine honesty, I have but one lining in one hose, but seven ells of rug.[101]
Grim. This is but a little, yet it makes thee seem a great bug.
Jack. How say you, goodman collier, can you find any fault here?[102]
Grim. Nay, you should [not] find fau’t, marry, here’s trim gear!
Alas, little knave, dost not sweat? thou goest with great pain,
These are no hose, but water-bougets,[103] I tell thee plain;
Good for none but such as have no buttocks.
Did you ever see two such little Robin ruddocks[104]
So laden with breeches? chill say no more, lest I offend.
Who invented these monsters[105] first, did it to a ghostly end,
To have a mail ready to put in other folks’ stuff,
We see this evident by daily proof.
One preached of late not far hence in no pulpit, but in a wain-cart,
That spake enough of this; but for my part,
Chill say no more: your own necessity
In the end will force you to find some remedy.
Jack. Will,[106] hold this railing knave with a talk, when I am gone:
I will fetch him his filling ale for his good sermon.
[Exit.
Will. Go thy way, Father Grim, gaily well you do say,
It is but young men’s folly, that list to play,
And mask awhile in the net of their own device;
When they come to your age, they will be wise.
Grim. Bum troth, but few such roisters come to my years at this day;
They be cut off betimes, ere they have gone half their journey:
I will not tell why: let them guess that can, I mean somewhat thereby.
Enter Jack with a pot of wine, and a cup to drink on.
