(SCENE 2.)

Flourish: Enter the King, Antony, Cosmo, all about the King, and Bellizarius.

King. They swarme like Bees about us, insomuch Our People cannot sacrifice nor give Incense But with interruptions; they still are buzzing thus, Saying: Their Gods delight not in vaine showes But intellectual thoughts pure and unstain'd, Therefore reduce them from their heresies Or build our prison walls with Christians bones. What thinkes our Bellizarius, he that was wont To be more swift to execute than we to command? Why sits not Bellizarius?

Belliz. I dare not.

King. Protect me, Iove! Who dare gainesay it?

Belliz. I must not.

King. Say we command it?

Belliz. Truth is, I neither can nor will.

Omn. Hee's mad.

Belliz. Yes, I am mad To see such Wolvish Tyrants as you are Pretend a Justice and condemne the iust. Oh you white soules that hover in the aire, Who through my blindnesse were made death his[144] prey; Be but appeas'd, you spotlesse Innocents, Till with my blood I have made a true atonement, And through those tortures, by this braine devis'd, In which you perisht, I may fall as you To satisfie your yet fresh bleeding memories And meete you in that garden where content Dwels onely. I, that in blood did glory, Will now spend blood to heighten out your story.

Anton. Why, Bellizarius—

Belliz. Hinder me not: I'me in a happy progresse, would not change my guest Nor be deterr'd by Moles and Wormes that cannot see Such as you are. Alas, I pitty you.

Dam. The King's in presence.

Belliz. I talke of one that's altitudes above him, That owes[145] all Principalities: he is no King That keepes not his decrees, nor am I bound In duty to obey him in unwist acts.

King. All leave the roome.

Omnes. We obey your highnesse. [Exeunt Lords.

King. Sir, nay. Sir; good Bellizarius.

Belliz. In that I doe obey.

King. Doe you make scruple, then, of our command?

Belliz. Yes, Sir, where the act's unjust and impure.

King. Why, then, are we a king, if not obey'd?

Belliz. You are plac'd on earth but as a Substitute To a Diviner being as subiects are to you; And are so long a king to be obey'd As you are iust.

King. Good Bellizarius, wherein doe I digresse? Have I not made thee great, given thee authority To scourge those mis-beleevers, those wild Locusts That thus infect our Empire with their Scismes? The World is full of Bellizarius deedes. Succeeding times will Canonize thy Acts When they shall read what great ones thou hast done In honour of us and our sacred gods; For which, next unto Iove, they gave a Laurell To Bellizarius, whose studious braine Fram'd all these wracks and tortures for these Christians. Hast thou not all our Treasure in thy power? Who but your selfe commands as [us?], Bellizarius? Then whence, my Bellizarius, comes this change?

Belliz. Poore King, I sorrow for thy weakned sence, Wishing thy eye-sight cleare that Eagle-like, As I doe now, thou might'st gaze on the Sunne, The Sunne of brightnesse, Sunne of peace, of plenty. Made you me great in that you made me miserable, Thy selfe more wretched farre? in that thy hand The Engine was to make me persecute Those Christian soules whom I have sent to death, For which I ever, ever shall lament?

King. Ha, what's this?—Within there!

Belliz. Nay, heare me, Henrick, and when thou hast heard me out With Bellizarius thinke that thou art blest If that with me thou canst participate.

King. Thou art mad.

Belliz. No; 'tis thou art mad, And with thy frenzie make this Kingdome franticke. Forgive me, thou great Power in whom I trust, Forgive me, World, and blot out all my deeds From those black Kalends; else, when I lye dead, My Name will ever lie in obliquie. Is it a Sinne that can make great men good? Is prophanation turn'd to sanctity, Vices to vertues? if such disorder stand Then Bellizarius Acts may be held iust; Otherwise nothing.

King. Some Furie hath possest my Bellizarius That thus he railes. Oh, my dearest, Call on great Iupiter.

Belliz. Alas, poore Idoll! On him! on him that is not, unlesse made: Had I your Iove I'de tosse him in the Ayre, Or sacrifice him to his fellow-gods And see what he could doe to save himselfe. You call him Thunderer, shaker of Olympus, The onely and deare Father of all gods; When silly love is shooke with every winde, A fingers touch can hurle him from his Throne. Is this a thing to be ador'd or pray'd too?

King. My love turnes now to rage.—Attendance there, Enter all the Lords. And helpe to binde this mad man, that's possest!— By the powers that we adore thou dyest.

Belliz. Here me, thou ignorant King, you dull-brain'd Lords, Oh heare me for your owne sakes, for your soules sake: Had you as many gods as you have dayes, As once the Assyrians had, yet have yee nothing. Such service as they gave such you may give, And have reward as had the blinde Molossians: A Toad one day they worship; one of them drunke A health with 's god and poyson'd so himselfe. Therefore with me looke up, and as regenerate soules—

Dam. Can you suffer this? This his affront will scare up the devotion Of all your people. He that persecuted Become a convertite!

Belliz. 'Tis ioy above my ioy: oh, had you scene What these eyes saw, you would not then Disswade me from it; nor will I leave that power By whom I finde such infinite contentments.

Hen. Epidophorus; your eare:—see't done.

Epi. It shall, my Lord. [Exit Epi.

Hen. Then by the gods And all the powers the Vandals doe adore, Thou hast not beene more terrible to the world Than to thy selfe I now will make thee.

Belliz. I dare thy worst; I have a Christian armour to protect me. You cannot act so much as I will suffer.

Hen. Ile try your patience

Enter Epido, two Christians and officers.

Epi. 'Tis done, my Lord, as you directed.

Hen. They are come: Make signes you'le yet deny your Christianity (They make signes.) And kneele with us to sacred Iupiter. No? make them then a Sacrifice to Iupiter For all the wrongs by Bellizarius done. Dispatch, I say; to the fire with them.

Belliz. Alas, good men! tonguelesse? you'le yet be heard; The sighes of your tun'd soules are musicall, And whil'st I breath, as now my tears I shed, My prayers He send up for you; 'twas I that mangl'd you. How soone the bodies Organ leaves the sound! The Life's next too't; a Needles point ends that, A small thing does it. Now you have quiet roomes No wrangling, all husht. Now make me a fellow In this most patient suffering.

Hen. Beare them unto the fire, and place him neere To fright him. (Flourish.)

Belliz. On, fellow Souldiers! Your fires will soon be quencht, and for your wrongs You shall, above, all speake with Angels tongues.

[Exeunt.