One whose dull body will require a lamming,'
As surfeits do the diet, spring and fall.
Now, to your swordmen:

What come they for, good Captain Stockfish?
Bes. It seems your lordship has forgot my

name.

Bac. No, nor your nature neither; though they

are

Things fitter, I must confess, for anything
Than my remembrance, or any honest man's:
What shall these billets do? be piled up in my
woodyard?

Bes. Your lordship holds your mirth still;
Heaven continue it!

But, for these gentlemen, they come

Bac. To swear you are a coward? Spare your
book;

I do believe it.

Bes. Your lordship still draws wide;

They come to vouch, under their valiant hands,
I am no coward.

Bac. That would be a show, indeed, worth
seeing. Sirrah,

Be wise and take money for this motion,2 travel
with't;

And where the name of Bessus has been known,
Or a good coward stirring, 'twill yield more than
A tilting. This will prove more beneficial to
you,

If you be thrifty, than your captainship,

And more natural. Men of most valiant hands,
Is this true?

2 Sw. It is so, most renowned.

Bac. 'Tis somewhat strange.

1 Sw. Lord, it is strange, yet true.

We have examined, from your lordship's foot
there

To this man's head, the nature of the beatings;
And we do find his honour is come off
Clean and sufficient. This, as our swords shall
help us.

Bac. You are much bound to your bilbo-men;3 I am glad you're straight again, captain. "Twere good

You would think on some way to gratify them;
They have undergone a labour for you, Bessus,
Would have puzzled Hercules with all his valour.
2 Sw. Your lordship must understand we are

no men

Of the law, that take pay for our opinions;
It is sufficient we have cleared our friend.
Bac. Yet there is something due, which I, as
touch'd

In conscience, will discharge.-Captain, I'll pay
This rent for you.

Bes. Spare yourself, my good lord;

My brave friends aim at nothing but the virtue. Bac. That's but a cold discharge, sir, for their pains.

2 Sw. Oh, lord! my good lord!

Bac. Be not so modest; I will give you something.

Bes. They shall dine with your lordship; sufficient.

that's

Bac. Something in hand the while. You
rogues, you apple-squires,

Do you come hither, with your bottled valour,
Your windy froth, to limit out my beatings?

1 Sw. I do beseech your lordship.
2 Sw. Oh, good lord!

1 lamming-beating.

2 motion-puppet-show.

a bilbo-men-swordmen.

apple-squires-pimps.

[Kicks them.

287

Bac. 'Sfoot, what a bevy of beaten slaves are here!

Get me a cudgel, sirrah, and a tough one.

[Exit Servant.

2 Sw. More of your foot, I do beseech your lordship.

Bac. You shall, you shall, dog, and your fellow
beagle.

1 Sw. O' this side, good my lord.
For if you hurt my foot, I'll have you flay'd,
Bac. Off with your swords;
You rascals.

1 Sw. Mine's off, my lord.

[They take off their swords. 2 Sw. I beseech your lordship, stay a little; my strap's

Tied to my cod-piece point. Now, when you
please.

You long for a little too?
Bac. Captain, these are your valiant friends;

Bes. I am very well, I humbly thank your
lordship.

Bac. What's that in your pocket hurts my toe, you mongrel?

Thy buttocks cannot be so hard; out with't quickly.

2 Sw. [Takes out a pistol.] Here 'tis, sir; a small piece of artillery,

That a gentleman, a dear friend of your lordship's,

Sent me with, to get it mended, sir; for, if you mark,

The nose is somewhat loose.

Bac. A friend of mine, you rascal?
Than kicking these two foot-balls.
I was never wearier of doing nothing,

Enter Servant.

Serv. Here's a good cudgel, sir.

Bac. It comes too late; I am weary; pr'ythee,
Do thou beat them.

I'faith, to put a fresh man upon us:
2 Sw. My lord, this is foul play,
Men are but
men, sir.

Bac. That jest shall save your bones.-Captain, rally up your rotten regiment, and begone. -I had rather thrash than be bound to kick these rascals, till they cried, 'Ho!' Bessus, you may put your hand to them now, and then you are quit.-Farewell! as you like this, pray visit me again; 'twill keep me in good breath. [Exit. 2 Sw. He has a devilish hard foot; I never felt the like.

1 Sw. Nor I; and yet, I am sure, I have felt a hundred.

2 Sw. If he kick thus i' the dog-days, he will
be dry-foundred.

What cure now, captain, besides oil of bays?
Bes. Why, well enough, I warrant you; you
can go?

2 Sw. Yes, Heaven be thank'd! but I feel a
shrewd ache;

Sure, he's sprang my huckle-bone.

1 Sw. I ha' lost a haunch.

Bes. A little butter, friend, a little butter;
Butter and parsley is a sovereign matter:
Probatum est.

2 Sw. Captain, we must request

Your hand now to our honours.

Bes. Yes, marry, shall ye;

And then let all the world come, we are valiant

To ourselves, and there's an end.

1 Sw. Nay, then, we must be valiant. Oh, my
ribs!

2 Sw. Oh, my small guts!

A plague upon these sharp-toed shoes; they are

murderers.

[Exeunt.

ACT V.-SCENE IV.

A Room in the Palace.

Enter ARBACES with his sword drawn.
Arb. It is resolved: I bore it whilst I could;
I can no more. Hell, open all thy gates,
And I will thorough them: if they be shut,
I'll batter 'em, but I will find the place
Where the most damn'd have dwelling! Ere I end,
Amongst them all they shall not have a sin,
But I may call it mine; I must begin
With murder of my friend, and so go on
And end

My life and sins with a forbidden blow
Upon myself!

Enter MARDONIUS.

Mar. What tragedy is near?

That hand was never wont to draw a sword,
But it cried 'dead' to something.

Arb. Mardonius,

Have you bid Gobrias come?

Mar. How do you, sir?

Arb. Well. Is he coming?
Mar. Why, sir, are you thus?

Why does your hand proclaim a lawless war
Against yourself?

Arb. Thou answer'st me one question with
another:

Is Gobrias coming?

Mar. Sir, he is.

Arb. 'Tis well:

I can forbear your questions then. Begone!
Mar. Sir, I have mark'd-

Arb. Mark less! it troubles you and me.
Mar. You are more variable than you were.
Arb. It may be so.

Mar. To-day no hermit could be humbler

Than you were to us all.

Arb. And what of this?

Gob. Why, sir, do you curse me thus?

Arb. Why do I curse thee? If the re be a man Subtle in curses, that exceeds the rest,

His worst wish on thee! Thou hast broke my heart.

Gob. How, sir? Have I preserved you, from
a child,

From all the arrows malice or ambition
Could shoot at you, and have I this for pay?

Arb. 'Tis true, thou didst preserve me, and in
that

Wert crueller than hardened murderers

Of infants and their mothers! Thou didst save me,
Only till thou hadst studied out a way
How to destroy me cunningly thyself:
This was a curious way of torturing.
Gob. What do you mean?

Arb. Thou know'st the evils thou hast done
to me!

Dost thou remember all those witching letters

Mar. And now you take new rage into your Thou sent'st unto me to Armenia,

eyes,

As you would look us all out of the land.

Arb. I do confess it; will that satisfy?

I pr'ythee, get thee gone.

Mar. Sir, I will speak.

Arb. Will ye?

Mar. It is my duty.

I fear you'll kill yourself; I am a subject,
And you shall do me wrong in't; 'tis my cause,
And I may speak.

Arb. Thou art not train'd in sin,

It seems, Mardonius. Kill myself! by Heaven,
I will not do it yet; and, when I will,
I'll tell thee, then I shall be such a creature
That thou wilt give me leave without a word.
There is a method in man's wickedness;
It grows up by degrees: I am not come
So high as killing of myself; there are

A hundred thousand sins 'twixt me and it,
Which I must do. I shall come to't at last;
But, take my oath, not now. Be satisfied,
And get thee hence.

Mar. I am sorry 'tis so ill.

Arb. Be sorry, then :

True sorrow is alone; grieve by thyself.

Mar. I pray you let me see your sword put up Before I go; I'll leave you then.

Arb. [Puts up. Why, so.

What folly is this in thee? is it not
As apt to mischief as it was before?
Can I not reach it, think'st thou? These are toys
For children to be pleased with, and not men.
Now I am safe, you think: I would the book
Of Fate were here: my sword is not so sure
But I would get it out, and mangle that,

Fill'd with the praise of my beloved sister,
Where thou extol'dst her beauty? What had I
To do with that? what could her beauty be
To me? And thou didst write how well she
loved me!

Dost thou remember this? so that I doted
Something before I saw her.

Gob. This is true.

As I give thee now, had prevented me
For ever. Notwithstanding all thy sins,
If thou hast hope that there is yet a prayer
To save thee, turn and speak it to thyself.

Gob. Sir, you shall know your sins before you
do 'em:

If you kill me

Arb. I will not stay then.

Gob. Know

You kill your father.

Arb. My father? Though I know it for a lie,
Made out of fear, to save thy stained life,

The very reverence of the word comes 'cross me,
And ties mine arm down.

Gob. I will tell you that

Shall heighten you again: I am thy father;
I charge thee hear me.

Arb. If it should be so,

As 'tis most false, and that I should be found
A bastard issue, the despised fruit

Of lawless lust, I should no more admire
All my wild passions! But another truth'
Shall be wrung from thee. If I could come by
The spirit of pain, it should be pour'd on thee,
'Till thou allow'st thyself more full of lies
Than he that teaches thee.

Enter ARANE.

Ara. Turn thee about;

I come to speak to thee, thou wicked man!
Hear me, thou tyrant!

Arb. I will turn to thee;

Hear me, thou strumpet! I have blotted out
The name of mother, as thou hast thy shame.
Ara. My shame! Thou hast less shame than
anything!

Why dost thou keep my daughter in a prison?
Why dost thou call her sister, and do this?

Arb. Cease, thou strange impudence, and
answer quickly!

[Draws.

If thou contemn'st me, this will ask an answer,
And have it.

Ara. Help me, gentle Gobrias.

289

Gob. You do not know why you curse thus.
Arb. Too well.

You are a pair of vipers; and behold

The serpent you have got! There is no beast,
But, if he knew it, has a pedigree

As brave as mine, for they have more descents;
And I am every way as beastly got,
As far without the compass of a law,
As they.

And rail upon a guess; hear us a little.
Ara. You spend your rage and words in vain,

Arb. No, I will never hear, but talk away

My breath, and die.

Gob. Why, but you are no bastard.
Arb. How's that?

Ara. Nor child of mine.

Arb. Still you go on

In wonders to me.

Gob. Pray you, be more patient;

I may bring comfort to you.
Arb. I will kneel,

[Kneels.

And hear with the obedience of a child.
Good father, speak! I do acknowledge you,
So you bring comfort.

Gob. First know, our last king, your supposed
father,

Was old and feeble when he married her,
And almost all the land, as she, past hope
Of issue from him.

Arb. Therefore she took leave

To play the whore, because the king was old:
Is this the comfort?

Ara. What will you find out

To give me satisfaction, when you find

How you have injured me? Let fire consume me
If ever I were whore!

Gob. Forbear these starts,

Or I will leave you wedded to despair,
As you are now. If you can find a temper,
My breath shall be a pleasant western wind,

That cools and blasts not.

Arb. Bring it out, good father.
I'll lie and listen here as reverently

Arb. Guilt dare not help guilt! Though they As to an angel. If I breathe too loud,
grow together

In doing ill, yet at the punishment
They sever, and each flies the noise of other.
Think not of help; answer!

Ara. I will; to what?

Arb. To such a thing, as, if it be a truth,
Think what a creature thou hast made thyself,
That didst not shame to do what I must blush
Only to ask thee. Tell me who I am,
Whose son I am, without all circumstance;

Be thou as hasty as my sword will be,

If thou refusest.

Ara. Why, you are his son.

Arb. His son? Swear, swear, thou worse than woman damn'd!

Ara. By all that's good, you are.

Arb. Then art thou all

That ever was known bad! Now

the cause

Of all my strange misfortunes come to light.
What reverence expect'st thou from a child,
To bring forth which thou hast offended Heaven,
Thy husband, and the land? Adulterous witch!
I know now why thou wouldst have poison'd me:
I was thy lust, which thou wouldst have forgot!
Then, wicked mother of my sins, and me,
Show me the way to the inheritance

I have by thee, which is a spacious world
Of impious acts, that I may soon possess it.
Plagues rot thee, as thou liv'st, and such diseases
As use to pay lust, recompense thy deed!

1 another truth-i.e. a truth of a different nature.MASON.

T

[Lies down.

Tell me; for I would be as still as night.

Gob. Our king, I say, was old, and this our

queen

Desired to bring an heir, but yet her husband,
She thought, was past it; and to be dishonest,
I think she would not: if she would have been,
The truth is, she was watch'd so narrowly,
And had so slender opportunities,

She hardly could have been. But yet her cunning
Found out this way: she feign'd herself with child,
And posts were sent in haste throughout the land,
And God was humbly thank'd in every church,
That so had blessed the queen; and prayers were
For her safe going and delivery.
She feign'd now to grow bigger; and perceived
[made
This hope of issue made her fear'd, and brought
A far more large respect from every man,
And saw her power increase, and was resolv'd,
Since she believed she could not have't indeed,
At least she would be thought to have a child.
Arb. Do I not hear it well! Nay, I will make
No noise at all; but, pray you, to the point,
Quick as you can!

Gob. Now when the time was full
She should be brought to bed, I had a son
Born, which was you. This the queen hearing of
Moved me to let her have you; and such reasons
She showed me, as she knew well would tie
My secrecy. She swore you should be king;
And, to be short, I did deliver you
Unto her, and pretended you were dead,
And in mine own house kept a funeral,
And had an empty coffin put in earth.