Thomas Heywood

“ Maid.
What sin?
Lucrece.
My blot, my scandal, and my shame.
O Tarquin, thou my honour didst betray;
Disgrace no time, no age can wipe away!
Oh!
Maid.
Sweet lady, cheer yourself; I’ll fetch my viol,
And see if I can sing you fast asleep;
A little rest would wear away this passion.
Lucrece.
Do what thou wilt, I can command no more.
Being no more a woman, I am now
Devote to death, and an inhabitant
Of the other world: these eyes must ever weep
Till fate hath closed them with eternal sleep.
Enter Brutus, Collatinus, Horatius, Scevola, and Valerius on one side, Lucretius on the other. ”

“ Brutus.
Nay, soft, soft, good blood of the Tarquins, let’s have a few cold words first, and I am gone in an instant. I claim the privilege of the nobility of Rome, and by that privilege my seat in the Capitol. I am a lord by birth, my place is as free in the Capitol as Horatius, thine; or thine, Lucretius; thine, Sextus; Aruns, thine; or any here: I am a lord, and you banish all the lord fools from the presence. You’ll have few to wait upon the king, but gentlemen. Nay, I am easily persuaded then—hands off! since you will not have my company, you shall have my room. ”

“ Exeunt Aruns and Sextus.
Brutus.
“Thank you.” “No.” “Well; I’ll to my tent.” Get thee to thy tent, and a coward go with thee, if thou hast no more spirit to a speedy encounter.
Valerius.
Shall I go after him, and know the cause of his discontent?
Scevola.
Or I, my lord?
Brutus.
Neither; to pursue a fool in his humour is the next way to make him more humorous. I’ll not be guilty of his folly; thank you, no! Before I wish him health again when he is sick of the sullens, may I die, not like a Roman, but like a runagate! ”

“ Collatine, Lucretius, and Scevola.
Hew them to pieces both.
Tarquin.
My Tullia save,
And o’er my caitiff head those meteors wave!
Collatine.
Let Tullia yield then.
Tullia.
Yield me, cuckold! no;
Mercy I scorn; let me the danger know.
Scevola.
Upon them, then!
Valerius.
Let’s bring them to their fate,
And let them perish in the people’s hate.
Tullia.
Fear not, I’ll back thee, husband.
Tarquin.
But for thee,
Sweet were the hand that this charged soul could free!
Life I despise. Let noble Sextus stand
To avenge our death. Even till these vitals end,
Scorning my own, thy life will I defend. ”

“ Young Chartley.
True, my losing had took away my senses,
Both of seeing and feeling; but better luck
Hath brought them to their right temper.
But come—a pox of dice! ’tis time to give over.
Sencer.
All times are times for winners to give over,
But not for them that lose. I’ll play till midnight,
But I will change my luck.
Haringfield.
Come, come, you shall not.
Give over; tush, give over; do, I pray,
And choose the fortune of some other hour:
Let’s not, like debauched fellows, play our clothes,
Belts, rapiers, nor our needful ornaments:
’Tis childish, not becoming gentlemen. ”

“ Young Chartley.
My honey-sweet hag, where’s Luce?
Wise-woman.
Here, sweetheart, but disguised and veiled, as you are visarded.
Young Chartley.
But what’s the reason we are thus hoodwinked?
Wise-woman.
No discovery of yourselves for a million! There’s Sir Boniface within—shall he blab who you are? besides, there’s a young heir that hath stolen a lord’s daughter from the Court, and would not have their faces seen for a world. Cannot you be content to fare well, and keep your own counsel? And see, yonder they come.
Enter, severally, Boyster visarded and Luce masked. ”

“ That noble Sextus shall succeed
In Rome as king?
Brutus.
Ay, oracle, hast thou lost thy tongue?
Aruns.
Tempt him again, fair priest.
Sextus.
If not as king, let Delphian Phœbus yet
Thus much resolve us: who shall govern Rome,
Or of us three bear great’st pre-eminence?
Priest.
Sextus, I will.
Yet, sacred Phœbus, we entreat,
Which of these three shall be great
With largest power and state replete,
By the Heaven’s doom? [23]
Phœbus, thy thoughts no longer smother.
Oracle.
He that first shall kiss his mother
Shall be powerful, and no other
Of you three in Rome.
Sextus. ”

“ SCENE VI.—The Camp at Ardea. Enter Brutus, Valerius, Horatius, Aruns, Scevola, and Collatine.
Brutus.
What, so early, Valerius, and your voice not up yet? thou wast wont to be my lark, and raise me with thy early notes.
Valerius.
I was never so hard set yet, my lord, but I had ever a fit of mirth for my friend.
Brutus.
Prithee, let’s hear it then while we may, for I divine thy music and my madness are both short-lived; we shall have somewhat else to do ere long, we hope, Valerius.
Horatius.
Jove send it!
Valerius.
[Sings.] Pack, clouds, away, and welcome, day!
With night we banish sorrow ”

“ Sextus.
Do, good Brutus.
Brutus.
I hold some holy, but some apt to sin;
Some tractable, but some that none can win;
Such as are virtuous, gold nor wealth can move;
Some vicious of themselves are prone to love;
Some grapes are sweet and in the garden grow,
Others unpruned turn wild neglected so;
The purest ore contains both gold and dross,
The one all gain, the other nought but loss;
The one disgrace, reproach, and scandal taints,
The other angels and sweet-featured saints.
Collatine.
Such is my virtuous Lucrece.
Aruns.
Yet she for virtue is not comparable to the wife of Aruns.
Scevola. ”

“ Wendoll.
Sir Francis, your wife’s brother, had the worst,
And lost the wager.
Frankford.
Why, the worse his chance:
Perhaps the fortune of some other day
Will change his luck.
Mistress Frankford.
Oh, but you hear not all.
Sir Francis lost, and yet was loth to yield:
At length the two knights grew to difference,
From words to blows, and so to banding sides;
Where valorous Sir Charles slew in his spleen
Two of your brother’s men; his falconer,
And his good huntsman, whom he loved so well:
More men were wounded, no more slain outright.
Frankford.
Now, trust me, I am sorry for the knight ”

“ I seal you my dear brother, her my wife.
Susan.
You still exceed us: I will yield to fate,
And learn to love, where I till now did hate.
Sir Charles Mountford.
With that enchantment you have charmed my soul,
And made me rich even in those very words:
I pay no debt, but am indebted more;
Rich in your love, I never can be poor.
Sir Francis Acton.
All’s mine is yours; we are alike in state,
Let’s knit in love what was opposed in hate.
Come! for our nuptials we will straight provide,
Blest only in our brother and fair bride. ”

“ Among the Roman matrons.
Brutus.
Yet cheer you, lady, and restrain these tears.
If you were forced the sin concerns not you;
A woman’s born but with a woman’s strength.
Who was the ravisher?
Horatius.
Ay, name him, lady:
Our love to you shall only thus appear,
In the revenge that we will take on him.
Lucrece.
I hope so, lords. ’Twas Sextus, the king’s son.
All.
How! Sextus Tarquin!
Lucrece.
That unprincely prince,
Who guest-wise entered with my husband’s ring.
This ring, O Collatine! this ring you sent
Is cause of all my woe, your discontent. ”

“ Young Chartley.
Hark in thine ear, I’ll tell thee;—nay, hear me out. Is’t possible so soft a body should have so hard a soul? Nay, now I know my penance; you will be angry, and school me for tempting your modesty: a fig for this modesty! it hinders many a good man from many a good turn, and that’s all the good it doth. If thou but knew’st, Luce, how I love thee, thou wouldst be far more tractable. Nay, I bar chiding when you speak; I’ll stop thy lips if thou dost but offer an angry word—by this hand, I’ll do’t, and with this hand too. ”

“ The Romans are beaten off. Enter Brutus, Horatius, Valerius, Scevola, Lucretius and Collatine.
Brutus.
Thou Jovial hand, hold up thy sceptre high,
And let not justice be oppressed with pride!
O you Penates; leave not Rome and us
Grasped in the purple hands of death and ruin!
The Tarquins have the best.
Horatius.
Yet stand; my foot is fixed upon this bridge.
Tiber, thy archèd streams shall be changed crimson
With Roman blood before I budge from hence.
Scevola.
Brutus, retire; for if thou enter Rome
We are all lost. Stand not on valour now,
But save thy people ”

“ Young Chartley.
Then see, sir: when to all your judgments I see me past grace, do I lay hold of grace, and here begin to retire myself. This woman hath lent me a glass, in which I see all my imperfections, at which my conscience doth more blush inwardly than my face outwardly; and now I dare confidently undertake for myself I am honest.
2nd Luce.
Then I dare confidently undertake to help you to a wife who desires to have an honest man or none. Look on me well: simple though I stand here, I am your wife. Blush not at your folly, man. Perhaps I have more in me than you expect from me. ”

“ Lucretius.
I’ll in to weep.
Horatius.
But I my gall to grate.
Scevola.
I’ll laugh at time, till it will change our fate.
[Exeunt all but Collatine.
Collatine.
Thou art not what thou seem’st, Lord Scevola;
Thy heart mourns in thee, though thy visage smile;
And so does thy soul weep, Valerius,
Although thy habit sing; for these new humours
Are but put on for safety, and to arm them
Against the pride of Tarquin, from whose danger,
None great in love, in counsel, or opinion,
Can be kept safe: this makes me lose [20] my hours
At home with Lucrece, and abandon court.
Enter Clown.
Clown. ”

“ Horatius.
Whither will you, my lord?
Lucretius.
No matter where,
If from the court. I’ll home to Collatine
And to my daughter Lucrece: home breeds safety,
Danger’s begot in court; a life retired
Must please me now perforce: then, noble Scevola,
And you my dear Horatius, farewell both.
Where industry is scorned let’s welcome sloth.
Enter Collatine.
Horatius.
Nay, good Lucretius, do not leave us thus.
See, here comes Collatine; but where’s Valerius?
How does he taste these times?
Collatine.
Not giddily like Brutus, passionately
Like old Lucretius with his tear-swollen eyes ”

“ Valerius.
Agreed.
Scevola.
I am pleased with the censure of Prince Sextus.
Aruns.
So are we all.
Collatine.
I commit my Lucrece wholly to the dispose of Sextus.
Sextus.
And Sextus commits him wholly to the dispose of Lucrece.
I love the lady and her grace desire,
Nor can my love wrong what my thoughts admire.
Aruns, no question but your wife is chaste
And thrifty, but this lady knows no waste.
Valerius, yours is modest, something fair;
Her grace and beauty are without compare.
Thine, Mutius, well disposed, and of good feature,
But the world yields not so divine a creature. ”

“ Serving-man.
Pray, sir, what might I call that gentlewoman, on whom you were attendant?
Taber.
You may call her what you please; but if you call her otherwise than in the way of honesty, you may perchance hear on’t.
Serving-man.
Nay, be not offended: I say, what do you call her?
Taber.
Why, sir, I call her as it shall best please me; sometimes young lady, sometimes young mistress; and what hath any man to do with that?
Young Chartley.
Are you so captious, sirrah? What’s her name?
Speak, and be brief.
Taber.
Ay, marry, sir, you speak to purpose, and I can resolve you: her name is Gratiana. ”

“ Luce’s Father.
Well, say on, son.
Young Chartley.
Stay but a month, ’tis but four weeks—nay, ’tis February, the shortest month of the year—and in that time I shall be at full age; and the land being entailed, my father can disinherit me of nothing. Is your spleen down now? Have I satisfied you? Well, I see you choleric hasty men are the kindest when all is done. Here’s such wetting of handkerchiefs! he weeps to think of his wife; she weeps to see her father cry! Peace, fool! we shall else have thee claim kindred of the woman killed with kindness. ”

“ To gain a woman’s love against her will.
You’ll but repent such wrong done a chaste wife,
And think that labour’s not worth all your strife,
Curse your hot lust, and say you have wronged your friends;
But all the world cannot make me amends.
I took you for a friend; wrong not my trust,
But let these chaste tears quench your fiery lust.
Sextus.
No; those moist tears, contending with my fire
Quench not my heat, but make it climb much higher:
I’ll drag thee hence.
Lucrece.
Oh!
Sextus.
If thou raise these cries,
Lodged in thy slaughtered arms some base groom dies. ”

“ Mistress Frankford.
Oh, what a clog unto the soul is sin!
We pale offenders are still full of fear;
Every suspicious eye brings danger near,
When they whose clear hearts from offence are free
Despise report, base scandals do outface,
And stand at mere defiance with disgrace.
Wendoll.
Fie, fie! you talk too like a puritan.
Mistress Frankford.
You have tempted me to mischief, Master Wendoll:
I have done I know not what. Well, you plead custom;
That which for want of wit I granted erst,
I now must yield through fear. Come, come, let’s in;
Once o’er shoes, we are straight o’er head in sin. ”

“ Win by the wager a rich horse and armour.
Aruns.
A hand on that.
Valerius.
Here’s a helping hand to that bargain.
Horatius.
But shall we to horse without circumstance?
Scevola.
Scevola will be mounted with the first.
Sextus.
Then mount cheval! Brutus, this night take you the charge of the army. I’ll see the trial of this wager: ’twould do me good to see some of them find their wives in the arms of their lovers, they are so confident in their virtues. Brutus, we’ll interchange goodnight; be thou but as provident o’er the army as we (if our horses fail not) expeditious in our journey. ”

“ Wincott.
You’ve, Master Geraldine,
Fair walks and gardens; I have praisèd them
Both to my wife and sister.
Old Geraldine.
You would see them?
There is no pleasure that the house can yield
That can be debarred from you.—Prithee, son,
Be thou the usher to those mounts and prospects
May one day call thee master.
Young Geraldine.
Sir, I shall.—
Please you to walk?
Prudentilla.
What, Master Delavil,
Will you not bear us company?
Delavil.
’Tis not fit
That we should leave our noble host alone.
Be you my friend’s charge, and this old man mine.
Prudentilla. ”

“ Boyster.
Thou hast no grace at all.
Young Chartley.
Nay, let’s to bed; if thou couldst but imagine how I love thee, Luce!
Luce.
How is it possible you can love me, and go about to marry another?
Young Chartley.
Dost thou not know she’s rich? Why, you fool, as soon as I have got her dower, it is but giving her a dram, or a pill to purge melancholy, to make her turn up her heels, and then with all that wealth come I to live with thee, my sweet rascal.
Gratiana. [Coming from the inner room.] ”

“ Mistress Frankford.
I ne’er offended yet:
My fault, I fear, will in my brow be writ.
Women that fall, not quite bereft of grace,
Have their offences noted in their face.
I blush and am ashamed. Oh, Master Wendoll,
Pray God I be not born to curse your tongue,
That hath enchanted me! This maze I am in
I fear will prove the labyrinth of sin.
Re-enter Nicholas behind.
Wendoll.
The path of pleasure, and the gate to bliss,
Which on your lips I knock at with a kiss.
Nicholas.
[Aside.] I’ll kill the rogue.
Wendoll.
Your husband is from home, your bed’s no blab.
Nay, look not down and blush. ”

“ Horatius.
Fret.
Valerius.
Sing.
Lucretius.
Weep.
Scevola.
Laugh.
Brutus.
Rather let’s all be mad,
That Tarquin he still reigneth, Rome’s still sad.
Collatine.
You are madmen all that yield so much to passion;
You lay yourselves too open to your enemies,
That would be glad to pry into your deeds,
And catch advantage to ensnare our lives;
The king’s fear, like a shadow, dogs you still,
Nor can you walk without it. I commend
Valerius most, and noble Scevola,
That what they cannot mend, seem not to mind. ”

“ Fair Tullia,
Thy hate to him grows from thy love to us;
Thou show’st thyself in this unnatural strife
An unkind daughter, but a loving wife.
But on unto our palace: this blest day,
A king’s increase grows by a king’s decay.
[Exeunt.
SCENE III.—A Public Place in Rome. Enter Brutus.
Brutus.
Murder the king! a high and capital treason.
Those giants that waged war against the gods,
For which the o’erwhelmed mountains hurled by Jove
To scatter them, and give them timeless [13] graves,
Was not more cruel than this butchery,
This slaughter made by Tarquin. But the queen!
A woman—fie, fie! ”

“ To seize her as a rape, or lustful prey;
To blur our house, that never yet was stained;
To murder her that never meant thee harm;
To kill me now, whom once thou savedst from death,
Do them at once: on her all these rely,
And perish with her spotted chastity.
Sir Francis Acton.
You overcome me in your love, Sir Charles;
I cannot be so cruel to a lady
I love so dearly. Since you have not spared
To engage your reputation to the world,
Your sister’s honour, which you prize so dear,
Nay, all the comforts which you hold on earth,
To grow out of my debt, being your foe,
Your honoured thoughts, lo! ”

“ Though in the purchase I all Rome destroy.—
Madam, if I be welcome as your virtue
Bids me presume I am, carouse to me
A health unto your husband.
Lucrece.
A woman’s draught, my lord, to Collatine!
Sextus.
Nay, you must drink off all.
Lucrece.
Your grace must pardon
The tender weakness of a woman’s brain.
Sextus.
It is to Collatine.
Lucrece.
Methinks ’twould ill become the modesty
Of any Roman lady to carouse,
And drown her virtues in the juice of grapes.
How can I show my love unto my husband
To do his wife such wrong? ”

“ Thou art a man: oh, bear my royal mind,
Mount heaven, and see if Tullia lag behind.
There is no earth in me, I am all fire;
Were Tarquin so, then should we both aspire.
Tarquin.
O Tullia, though my body taste of dulness,
My soul is winged to soar as high as thine;
But note what flags our wings,—forty-five years
The king thy father hath protected Rome.
Tullia.
That makes for us: the people covet change;
Even the best things in time grow tedious.
Tarquin.
’Twould seem unnatural in thee, my Tullia,
The reverend king thy father to depose.
Tullia.
A kingdom’s quest makes sons and fathers foes. ”

“ And, Sextus, though you failed in your first proffer,
We do not yet esteem you least in love:
Ascend and touch our lips.
Sextus.
Thank you, no.
Tullia.
Then to thy knee we will descend thus low.
Sextus.
Nay, now it shall not need. How great’s my heart!
Aruns.
In Tarquin’s crown thou now hast lost thy part.
Sextus.
No kissing now. Tarquin, great queen, adieu!
Aruns, on earth we ha’ no foe but you.
Tarquin.
What means this their unnatural enmity?
Tullia.
Hate, born from love.
Tarquin.
Resolve us then, how did the gods accept
Our sacrifice? how are they pleased with us? ”