THE Bloody Brother; OR, ROLLO. A TRAGEDY.

Bal. The Brothers then are met? Gis. They are, Sir. Bald. 'Tis thought, they may be reconcil'd. Gis. 'Tis rather wish't, for such, whose reason Doth direct their thoughts without self flattery, Dare not hope it. Bald. The fires of Love, which the dead Duke believ'd His equal care of both would have united, Ambition hath divided: and there are Too many on both parts, that know they cannot Or rise to wealth or honour, their main ends, Unless the tempest of the Princes fury Make troubled Seas, and those Seas yield fit Billows In their bad Arts to give way to a calm, Which yielding rest and good, prove their ruin, And in the shipwrack of their hopes and fortunes, The Dukedom might be sav'd, had it but ten That stood affected to the general good, With that confirm'd zeal which brave Aubrey does. Gis. He is indeed the perfect character Of a good man, and so his actions speak him. Bald. But did you observe the many doubts, and cautions The Brothers stood upon before they met? Gis. I did; and yet, that ever Brothers should Stand on more nice terms, than sworn Enemies After a War proclaim'd, would with a stranger Wrong the reporters credit; they saluted At distance; and so strong was the suspicion Each had of other, that before they durst Embrace, they were by sev'ral servants searcht, As doubting conceal'd weapons, Antidotes Ta'ne openly by both, fearing the room Appointed for the enter-view was poyson'd, The Chairs, and Cushions, with like care survay'd; And in a word in every circumstance So jealous on both parts, that it is more Than to be fear'd, concord can never joyn, Minds so divided. Bald. Yet our best endeavours, Should not be wanting, Gisbert. Gis. Neither shall they.

But what are these? Bald. They are without my knowledge; But by their manners, and behaviours, They should express themselves. Grand. Since we serve Rollo The Elder Brother, we'll be Rollians, Who will maintain us, lads, as brave as Romans; You stand for him? Ver. I do. Grand. Why, then observe How much the business, your so long'd for business, By men that are nam'd from their swords, concerns you. Lechery, our common friend, so long kept under, With whips, and beating fatal hemps, shall rise, And Bawdery, in a French-hood plead, before her Virginity shall be Carted. Ver. Excellent! Grand. And Hell but grant, the quarrel that's between The Princes may continue, and the business That's of the sword, t'outlast three suits in Law, And we will make Atturnies Lansprisadoes, And our brave gown-men practisers of back-sword; The pewter of all Serjeants maces shall Be melted, and turn'd into common Flaggons, In which it shall be lawful to carouse To their most lowsie fortunes. Bald. Here's a Statesman. Grand. A creditor shall not dare, but by Petition, To make demand of any debt; and that Only once every leap-year, in which, if The debtor may be won for a French Crown, To pay a Soulz, he shall be registred His benefactor. Ver. The Chancellor hears you. Grand. Fear not, I now dare speak as loud as he, And will be heard, and have all I speak, Law; Have you no eyes? there is a reverence due, From Children of the Gown, to Men of Action. Gis. How's this? Gran. Even so; the times, the times are chang'd, All business is not now prefer'd in Parchment, Nor shall a grant pass that wants this broad seal; This seal d'ye see? your gravity once laid My head and heels together in the Dungeon, For cracking a scald Officers crown, for which A time is come for vengeance, and expect it; For know, you have not full three hours to live. Gis. Yes, somewhat longer. Gran. To what end? Gis. To hang you; think on that, Ruffian. Gran. For you, School-master, You have a pretty Daughter; let me see, Near three a Clock, (by which time I much fear, I shall be tyr'd with killing some five hundred) Provide a Bath, and her to entertain me, And that shall be your Ransom. Bald. Impudent Rascal.

Gis. More of the crew? Grand. What are you? Rollians? Tre. No; this for Rollo, and all such as serve him; We stand for Otto. Grand. You seem men of fashion, And therefore I'le deal fairly, you shall have The honour this day to be Chronicled The first men kill'd by Grandpree; you see this sword, A pretty foolish toy, my valour's Servant, And I may boldly say a Gentleman, It having made when it was Charlemaigns, Three thousand Knights; this, Sir, shall cut your throat, And do you all fair service else. Tre. I kiss your hands for the good offer; here's another too, the servant of your servant shall be proud to be scour'd in your sweet guts; till when pray you command me. Grand. Your Idolater, Sir. [Exeunt. Manent Gis. & Bal. Gis. That e're such should hold the names of men, Or Justice be held cruelty, when it labours To pluck such weeds up! Bald. Yet they are protected, and by the great ones. Gis. Not the good ones, Baldwin.

Aub. Is this a time to be spent thus by such As are the principal Ministers of the State? When they that are the heads, have fill'd the Court With factions, a weak Woman only left To stay their bloudy hands? can her weak arms Alone divert the dangers ready now To fall upon the Common-wealth, and bury The honours of it, leaving not the name Of what it was. Oh Gisbert, the fair tryals, And frequent proofs which our late master made, Both of your love and faith, gave him assurance, To chuse you at his death a Guardian; nay, A Father to his Sons; and that great trust, How ill do you discharge! I must be plain, That, at the best, y'are a sad looker on Of those bad practices you should prevent. And where's the use of your Philosophy In this so needful a time? be not secure; For, Baldwin, be assur'd, since that the Princes, When they were young, and apt for any form, Were given to your instruction, and grave ordering; 'Twill be expected that they should be good, Or their bad manners will b' imputed yours. Bald. 'Twas not in one, my Lord, to alter nature. Gis. Nor can my counsels work on them that will not Vouchsafe me hearing. Aub. Do these answers sort, Or with your place, or persons, or your years? Can Gisbert being the pillar of the Laws, See them trod under foot, or forc'd to serve The Princes unjust ends; and with a frown Be silenc'd from exclaiming on th' abuse? Or Baldwin only weep the desp'rate madness Of his seduced pupills? see their minds, Which with good Arts he labour'd to build up Examples of succeeding times, o'return'd By undermining parasites; no one precept Leading to any Art, or great, or good, But is forc'd from their memory, in whose room Black counsels are receiv'd, and their retirements, And secret conference producing only Dev'lish designs, a man would shame to father; But I talk when I should do, and chide others For that I now offend in: see't confirm'd, Now do, or never speak more. Gis. We are yours.

Rol. You shall know who I am. Otto. I do, my equal. Rol. Thy Prince; give way—were we alone, I'de force thee, In thy best bloud, to write thy self my subject, And glad I would receive it. Aub. Sir. Gis. Dear Lord. Otto. Thy subject? Rol. Yes, nor shall tame patience hold me A minute longer, only half my self; My birth gave me this Dukedom, and my sword Shall change it to the common grave of all That tread upon her bosom, e're I part with A piece of earth, or title that is mine. Otto. It needs not, and I would scorn to receive, Though offer'd, what I want not: therefore know From me, though not deliver'd in great words, Eyes red with rage, poor pride, and threatned action; Our Father at his death, then, when no accent, Wer't thou a Son, could fall from him in vain, Made us Co-heirs, our part of Land and Honours Of equal weight; and to see this confirm'd, The Oaths of these are yet upon record, Who though they should forsake me, and call down The plagues of perjury on their sinful heads, I would not leave my self. Tre. Nor will we see the Will of the dead Duke infring'd. Lat. Nor I the elder rob'd of what's his right. Grand. Nor you? Let me take place, I say, I will not see't; My sword is sharpest. Aub. Peace you tinder-boxes, That only carry matter to make a flame, Which will consume you. Rol. You are troublesome, [To Baldwin. This is no time for arguments, my Title Needs not your School-defences, but my sword, With which the Gordian of your Sophistry Being cut, shall shew th' Imposture. For your laws [To It is in me to change them when I please, [Gisbert. I being above them; Gisbert, would you have me protect them; Let them now stretch their extreamest rigour, And seize upon that Traytor; and your tongue Make him appear first dangerous, then odious; And after, under the pretence of safety For the sick State, the Lands and Peoples quiet, Cut off his head: and I'le give up my sword, And fight with them at a more certain weapon To kill, and with Authority. Gis. Sir, I grant the Laws are useful weapons, but found out T'assure the Innocent, not to oppress. Rol. Then you conclude him Innocent? Gis. The power your Father gave him, must not prove a Crime. Aub. Nor should you so receive it. Bald. To which purpose, All that dare challenge any part in goodness, Will become suppliants to you. Rol. They have none That dare move me in this: hence, I defie you, Be of his party, bring it to your Laws, And thou thy double heart, thou popular fool, Your moral rules of justice and her ballance; I stand on mine own guard. Otto. Which thy unjustice Will make thy enemies; by the memory Of him, whose better part now suffers for thee, Whose reverend ashes with an impious hand Thou throw'st out to contempt, in thy repining At this so just decree; thou art unworthy Of what his last Will, not thy merits, gave thee, That art so swoln within, with all those mischiefs That e're made up a Tyrant, that thy breast, The prison of thy purposes, cannot hold them, But that they break forth, and in thy own words Discover, what a monster they must serve That shall acknowledge thee. Rol. Thou shalt not live to be so happy. Aub. Nor your miseries begin in murther.

Duty, allegeance, and all respects of what you are, forsake me: Do you stare on? is this a Theater? Or shall these kill themselves, like to mad fencers, To make you sport? keep them asunder, or By Heaven I'le charge on all. Grand. Keep the peace, I am for you, my Lord, and if you'l have me, I'le act the Constables part. Aub. Live I to see this? Will you do that your enemies dare not wish, And cherish in your selves those furies, which Hell would cast out? Do, I am ready; kill me, And these, that would fall willing sacrifices To any power that would restore your reason, And make you men again, which now you are not. Rol. These are your bucklers boy. Otto. My hinderances; And were I not confirm'd, my justice in The taking of thy life, could not weigh down The wrong, in shedding the least drop of bloud Of these whose goodness only now protects thee, Thou should'st feel I in act would only prove my self What thou in words do'st labour to appear. Rol. Hear this, and talk again! I'le break through all, But I will reach thy heart. Otto. 'Tis better guarded.

Soph. Make way, or I will force it, who are those? My Sons? my shames; turn all your swords on me, And make this wretched body but one wound, So this unnatural quarrel find a grave In the unhappy womb that brought you forth: Dare you remember that you had a Mother, Or look on these gray hairs, made so with tears, For both your goods, and not with age; and yet Stand doubtful to obey her? from me you had Life, Nerves, and faculties, to use these weapons; And dare you raise them against her, to whom You owe the means of being what you are? Otto. All peace is meant to you. Soph. Why is this War then? As if your arms could be advanc'd, and I Not set upon the rack? your bloud is mine, Your dangers mine, your goodness I should share in; I must be branded with those impious marks You stamp on your own foreheads and on mine, If you go on thus: for my good name therefore, Though all respects of honour in your selves Be in your fury choakt, throw down your swords; Your duty should be swifter than my tongue; And joyn your hands while they be innocent; You have heat of bloud, and youth apt to Ambition, To plead an easie pardon for what's past: But all the ills beyond this hour committed, From Gods or men must hope for no excuse. Gis. Can you hear this unmov'd? No Syllable of this so pious charm, but should have power To frustrate all the juggling deceits, With which the Devil blinds you. Otto. I begin to melt, I know not how. Rol. Mother, I'le leave you; And, Sir, be thankful for the time you live, Till we meet next (which shall be soon and sudden) To her perswasion for you. Soph. O yet, stay, And rather than part thus, vouchsafe me hearing, As enemies; how is my soul divided? My love to both is equal, as my wishes; But are return'd by neither; my griev'd heart, Hold yet a little longer, and then break. I kneel to both, and will speak so, but this Takes from me th' authority of a mothers power; And therefore, like my self, Otto, to thee, (And yet observe, son, how thy mothers tears Outstrip her forward words, to make way for'em) Thou art the younger, Otto, yet be now The first example of obedience to me, And grow the elder in my love. Otto. The means to be so happy? Soph. This; yield up thy sword, And let thy piety give thy mother strength To take that from thee, which no enemies force Could e're despoil thee of: why do'st thou tremble, And with a fearful eye fixt on thy Brother, Observ'st his ready sword, as bent against thee? I am thy armour, and will be pierc'd through, Ten thousand times, before I will give way To any peril may arrive at thee; And therefore fear not. Otto. 'Tis not for my self, But for you, mother; you are now ingag'd In more tha[n] lies in your unquestion'd vertue; For, since you have disarm'd me of defence, Should I fall now, though by his hand, the world May say it was your practice. Soph. All worlds perish, Before my piety turn treasons parent, Take it again, and stand upon your guard, And while your Brother is, continue arm'd; And yet, this fear is needless, for I know, My Rollo, though he dares as much as man, So tender of his yet untainted valour, So noble, that he dares do nothing basely. You doubt him; he fears you; I doubt and fear Both; for others safety, and not mine own. Know yet, my sons, when of necessity You must deceive, or be deceiv'd; 'tis better To suffer Treason, than to act the Traytor; And in a War like this, in which the glory Is his that's overcome; consider then What 'tis for which you strive: is it the Dukedom? Or the command of these so ready subjects? Desire of wealth? or whatsoever else Fires your ambition? This still desp'rate madness, To kill the people which you would be Lords of; With fire, and sword to lay that Country waste Whose rule you seek for: to consume the treasures, Which are the sinews of your Government, In cherishing the factions that destroy it: Far, far be this from you: make it not question'd Whether you have interest in that Dukedom, Whose ruine both contend for. Otto. I desire but to enjoy my own, which I will keep. Rol. And rather than posterity shall have cause To say I ruin'd all, divide the Dukedom, I will accept the moiety. Ott. I embrace it. Soph. Divide me first, or tear me limb by limb, And let them find as many several Graves As there are villages in Normandy: And 'tis less sin, than thus to weaken it. To hear it mention'd doth already make me Envy my dead Lord, and almost Blaspheme Those powers that heard my prayer for fruitfulness, And did not with my first birth close my womb: To me alone my second blessing proves My first of misery, for if that Heaven Which gave me Rollo, there had staid his bounty, And Otto, my dear Otto, ne're had been, Or being, had not been so worth my love, The stream of my affection had run constant In one fair current, all my hopes had been Laid up in one; and fruitful Normandy In this division had not lost her glories: For as 'tis now, 'tis a fair Diamond, Which being preserv'd intire, exceeds all value, But cut in pieces (though these pieces are Set in fine gold by the best work-mans cunning) Parts with all estimation: So this Dukedom, As 'tis yet whole, the neighbouring Kings may covet, But cannot compass; which divided, will Become the spoil of every barbarous foe That will invade it. Gis. How this works in both! Bal. Prince Rollo's eyes have lost their fire. Gis. And anger, that but now wholly possessed Good Otto, hath given place to pity. Aub. End not thus Madam, but perfect what's so well begun. Soph. I see in both, fair signs of reconcilement, Make them sure proofs they are so: the Fates offer To your free choice, either to live Examples Of Piety, or wickedness: if the later Blinds so your understanding, that you cannot Pierce through her painted out-side, and discover That she is all deformity within, Boldly transcend all precedents of mischief, And let the last, and the worst end of tyrannies, The murther of a Mother, but begin The stain of bloud you after are to heighten: But if that vertue, and her sure rewards, Can win you to accept her for your guide, To lead you up to Heaven, and there fix you The fairest Stars in the bright Sphere of honour; Make me the parent of an hundred sons, All brought into the world with joy, not sorrow, And every one a Father to his Country, In being now made Mother of your concord. Rol. Such, and so good, loud fame for ever speak you. Bal. I, now they meet like Brothers.

Gis. My hearts joy flows through my eyes. Aub. May never Womans tongue Hereafter be accus'd, for this ones Goodness. Otto. If we contend, from this hour, it shall be How to o'recome in brotherly affection. Rol. Otto is Rollo now, and Rollo, Otto, Or as they have one mind, rather one name: From this attonement let our lives begin, Be all the rest forgotten. Aub. Spoke like Rollo. Soph. And to the honour of this reconcilement, We all this night will at a publick Feast With choice Wines drown our late fears, and with Musick Welcome our comforts. Bald. Sure and certain ones. [Exeunt.

Grand. Did ever such a hopeful business end thus? Ver. 'Tis fatal to us all, and yet you Grandpree, Have the least cause to fear. Grand. Why, what's my hope? Ver. The certainty that you have to be hang'd; You know the Chancellours promise. Grand. Plague upon you. Ver. What think you of a Bath, and a Lords Daughter To entertain you? Grand. Those desires are off. Frail thoughts, all friends, no Rollians now, nor Ottoes: The sev'ral court'sies of our swords and servants Defer to after consequence; let's make use Of this nights freedom, a short Parliament to us, In which it will be lawful to walk freely. Nay, to our drink we shall have meat too, that's No usual business to the men o'th' sword. Drink deep with me to night, we shall to morrow, Or whip, or hang the merrier. Tre. Lead the way then. [Exeunt.

Lato. Why should this trouble you? Rol. It does, and must do till I find ease. Lato. Consider then, and quickly; And like a wise man, take the current with you, Which once turn'd head, will sink you; blest occasion Offers her self in thousand safeties to you; Time standing still to point you out your purpose, And resolution (the true child of Vertue) Readie to execute: what dull cold weakness Has crept into your bosom, whose meer thoughts Like tempests, plowing up the sayling Forests, Even with their swing were wont to shake down hazards. What is't, your Mothers tears? Rol. Pray thee be patient. Lat. Her hands held up? her prayers, or her curses? Oh power of paper dropt through by a woman! Take heed the Souldiers see it not; 'tis miserable, In Rollo below miserable; take heed your friends, The sinews of your cause, the strength you stir by, Take heed, I say, they find it not: take heed Your own repentance (like a passing-bell) Too late, and too loud, tell the world y'are perisht: What noble spirit, eager of advancement, Whose imployment is his plough; what sword whose sharpness Waits but the arm to wield it; or what hope, After the world has blown abroad this weakness, Will move again, or make a wish for Rollo? Rol. Are we not friends again by each oath ratified, Our tongues the Heralds to our hearts? Lat. Poor hearts then. Rol. Our worthier friends. Lat. No friends Sir, to your honour; Friends to your fall: where is your understanding, The noble vessel that your full soul sail'd in, Rib'd round with honours; where is that? 'tis ruin'd, The tempest of a womans sighs has sunk it. Friendship, take heed Sir, is a smiling harlot That when she kisses, kills, a soder'd friendship Piec'd out with promises; O painted ruine! Rol. Latorch, he is my Brother. Lat. The more doubted; For hatred hatcht at home is a tame Tiger, May fawn and sport, but never leaves his nature; The jars of Brothers, two such mighty ones, Is like a small stone thrown into a river, The breach scarce heard, but view the beaten current, And you shall see a thousand angry rings Rise in his face, still swelling and still growing; So jars circling distrusts, distrusts breed dangers, And dangers death, the greatest extreme shadow, Till nothing bound 'em but the shoar their graves; There is no manly wisedom, nor no safety In leaning to this league, this piec'd patcht friendship; This rear'd up reconcilement on a billow, Which as it tumbles, totters down your fortune; Is't not your own you reach at? Law and nature Ushering the way before you; is not he Born and bequeath'd your subject? Rol. Ha. Lat. What fool would give a storm leave to disturb his peace, When he may shut the casement? can that man Has won so much upon your pity, And drawn so high, that like an ominous Comet, He darkens all your light; can this toucht Lyon (Though now he licks and locks up his fell paws, Craftily huming, like a catt to cozen you) But when ambition whets him, and time fits him, Leap to his prey, and seiz'd once, suck your heart out? Do you make it conscience? Rol. Conscience, Latorch, what's that? Lat. A fear they tye up fools in, natures coward, Palling the blood, and chilling the full spirit With apprehension of meer clouds and shadows. Rol. I know no conscience, nor I fear no shadows. Lat. Or if you did, if there were conscience, If the free soul could suffer such a curb To the fiery mind, such puddles to put it out; Must it needs like a rank Vine, run up rudely, And twine about the top of all our happiness, Honour and rule, and there sit shaking of us? Rol. It shall not, nor it must not; I am satisfied, And once more am my self again: My Mothers tears and womanish cold prayers, Farewel, I have forgot you; if there be conscience, Let it not come betwixt a crown and me, Which is my hope of bliss, and I believe it: Otto, our friendship thus I blow to air, A bubble for a boy to play withal; And all the vows my weakness made, like this, Like this poor heartless rush, I rend in pieces. Lat. Now you go right, Sir, now your eyes are open. Rol. My Fathers last petition's dead as he is, And all the promises I clos'd his eyes with, In the same grave I bury. Lat. Now y'are a man, Sir. Rol. Otto, thou shewst my winding sheet before me, Which e're I put it on, like Heavens blest fire In my descent I'le make it blush in blood; A Crown, A Crown, Oh sacred Rule, now fire me, Nor shall the pity of thy youth, false Brother, Although a thousand Virgins kneel before me, And every dropping eye a court of mercy, The same blood with me, nor the reverence Due to my mothers blest womb that bred us, Redeem thee from my doubts: thou art a wolf here, Fed with my fears, and I must cut thee from me: A Crown, A Crown; Oh sacred Rule, now fire me: No safety else. Lat. But be not too much stir'd, Sir, nor too high In your execution: swallowing waters Run deep and silent, till they are satisfied, And smile in thousand Curles, to guild their craft; Let your sword sleep, and let my two edg'd wit work, This happy feast, the full joy of your friendships Shall be his last. Rol. How, my Latorch? Lat. Why thus, Sir; I'le presently go dive into the Officers That minister at Table: gold and goodness, With promise upon promise, and time necessary, I'le pour into them. Rol. Canst thou do it neatly? Lat. Let me alone, and such a bait it shall be, Shall take off all suspicion. Rol. Go, and prosper. Lat. Walk in then, and your smoothest face put on Sir. [Exeunt.