Act 3 — [Scene II.][4172]

Can you paint a thought? or number Every fancy in a slumber? Can you count soft minutes roving From a dial’s point by moving? Can you grasp a sigh? or, lastly,5 Rob a virgin’s honour chastely? No, O, no! yet you may Sooner do both that and this, This and that, and never miss, Than by any praise display10 Beauty ’s beauty; such a glory, As beyond all fate, all story, All arms, all arts, All loves, all hearts, Greater than those or they,15 Do, shall, and must obey.

Bass. All silent, calm, secure.—Grausis, no creaking? No noise? Dost hear nothing? Grau. Not a mouse, Or whisper of the wind. Bass. The floor is matted; The bedposts sure are steel or marble.—Soldiers20 Should not affect, methinks, strains so effeminate: Sounds of such delicacy are but fawnings Upon the sloth of luxury, they heighten Cinders of covert lust up to a flame. Grau. What do you mean, my lord?—speak low; that gabbling25 Of yours will but undo us. Bass. Chamber-combats Are felt, not heard. Pro. [within.] ’A wakes. Bass. What ’s that? Ith. [within.] Who ’s there? Sister?—All quit the room else. Bass. ’T is consented!

Pro. Lord Bassanes, your brother would be private, We must forbear; his sleep hath newly left him.30 Please ye withdraw. Bass. By any means; ’t is fit. Pro. Pray, gentlewoman, walk too. Grau. Yes, I will, sir. Exeunt omnes.

Ith. Sit nearer, sister to me; nearer yet, We had one father, in one womb took life,34 Were brought up twins together, yet have liv’d At distance, like two strangers. I could wish That the first pillow whereon I was cradled Had prov’d to me a grave. Pen. You had been happy: Then had you never known that sin of life Which blots all following glories with a vengeance,40 For forfeiting the last will of the dead, From whom you had your being. Ith. Sad Penthea, Thou canst not be too cruel; my rash spleen Hath with a violent hand pluck’d from thy bosom A love-blest[4173] heart, to grind it into dust;45 For which mine ’s now a-breaking. Pen. Not yet. Heaven, I do beseech thee! First let some wild fires Scorch, not consume it! may the heat be cherisht With desires infinite, but hopes impossible! Ith. Wrong’d soul, thy prayers are heard. Pen. Here, lo, I breathe,50 A miserable creature, led to ruin By an unnatural brother! Ith. I consume In languishing affections for that trespass; Yet cannot die. Pen. The handmaid to the wages54 Of country toil drinks the untroubled streams With leaping kids and with the bleating lambs, And so allays her thirst secure; whiles I Quench my hot sighs with fleetings[4174] of my tears. Ith. The labourer doth eat his coarsest bread, Earn’d with his sweat, and lies him down to sleep;60 While[4175] every bit I touch turns in digestion To gall as bitter as Penthea’s curse. Put me to any penance for my tyranny, And I will call thee merciful. Pen. Pray kill me, Rid me from living with a jealous husband;65 Then we will join in friendship, be again Brother and sister.—Kill me, pray; nay, will ye? Ith. How does thy lord esteem thee? Pen. Such an one As only you have made me; a faith-breaker, A spotted whore:—forgive me, I am one70 In act, not in desires, the gods must witness. Ith. Thou dost belie thy friend. Pen. I do not, Ithocles; For she that’s wife to Orgilus, and lives In known adultery with Bassanes, Is at the best a whore. Wilt kill me now?75 The ashes of our parents will assume Some dreadful figure, and appear to charge Thy bloody guilt, that hast betray’d their name To infamy in this reproachful match. Ith. After my victories abroad, at home80 I meet despair; ingratitude of nature Hath made my actions monstrous. Thou shalt stand A deity, my sister, and be worshipp’d For thy resolved martyrdom; wrong’d maids And married wives shall to thy hallowed shrine85 Offer their orisons, and sacrifice Pure turtles, crown’d with myrtle; if thy pity Unto a yielding brother’s pressure lend One finger but to ease it. Pen. O, no more! Ith. Death waits to waft me to the Stygian banks,90 And free me from this chaos of my bondage; And till thou wilt forgive, I must endure. Pen. Who is the saint you serve? Ith. Friendship, or [nearness][4176] Of birth to any but my sister, durst not Have mov’d that question; [’t is][4177] a secret, sister,95 I dare not murmur to myself. Pen. Let me, By your new protestations I conjure ye, Partake her name. Ith. Her name?—’tis—’tis—I dare not. Pen. All your respects are forg’d.[4178] Ith. They are not.—Peace! Calantha is—the princess—the king’s daughter—100 Sole heir of Sparta.—Me, most miserable Do I now love thee? For my injuries Revenge thyself with bravery, and gossip My treasons to the king’s ears, do:—Calantha Knows it not yet, nor Prophilus, my nearest.105 Pen. Suppose you were contracted to her, would it not Split even your very soul to see her father Snatch her out of your arms against her will, And force her on the Prince of Argos? Ith. Trouble not The fountains of mine eyes with thine own story;110 I sweat in blood for’t. Pen. We are reconcil’d. Alas, sir, being children, but two branches Of one stock, ’tis not fit we should divide: Have comfort, you may find it. Ith. Yes, in thee; Only in thee, Penthea mine. Pen. If sorrows Have not too much dull’d my infected brain, I’ll cheer invention for an active strain.[4179] Ith. Mad man! why have I wrong’d a maid so excellent!

Bass. I can forbear no longer; more, I will not, Keep off your hands, or fall upon my point.— Patience is tir’d; for, like a slow-pac’d ass,121 Ye ride my easy nature, and proclaim My sloth to vengeance a reproach and property.[4180] Ith. The meaning of this rudeness? Pro. He’s distracted. Pen. O, my griev’d lord!— Grau. Sweet lady, come not near him;125 He holds his perilous weapon in his hand To prick ’a cares not whom nor where,—see, see, see! Bass. My birth is noble: though the popular blast Of vanity, as giddy as thy youth, Hath rear’d thy name up to bestride a cloud,130 Or progress in the chariot of the sun, I am no clod of trade, to lackey pride, Nor, like your slave of expectation,[4181] wait The bawdy hinges of your doors, or whistle For mystical conveyance to your bed-sports.135 Gro. Fine humours! they become him. Hem. How ’a stares, Struts, puffs, and sweats! Most admirable[4182] lunacy! Ith. But that I may conceive the spirit of wine Has took possession of your soberer custom, I’d say you were unmannerly. Pen. Dear brother!—140 Bass. Unmannerly!—mew, kitling!— smooth Formality Is usher to the rankness of the blood, But Impudence bears up the train. Indeed, sir, Your fiery mettle, or your springal[4183] blaze Of huge renown, is no sufficient royalty145 To print upon my forehead the scorn, “cuckold.” Ith. His jealousy has robb’d him of his wits; ’A talks ’a knows not what. Bass. Yes, and ’a knows To whom ’a talks; to one that franks[4184] his lust In swine-security of bestial incest.150 Ith. Ha, devil! Bass. I will haloo’t;[4185] though I blush more To name the filthiness than thou to act it. Ith. Monster! [Draws his sword.] Pro. Sir, by our friendship— Pen. By our bloods— Will you quite both undo us, brother? Grau. Out on him! These are his megrims, firks,[4186] and melancholies.155 Hem. Well said, old touch-hole. Gro. Kick him out of doors. Pen. With favour, let me speak.—My lord, what slackness In my obedience hath deserv’d this rage? Except humility and silent duty Have drawn on your unquiet, my simplicity160 Ne’er studied your vexation. Bass. Light of beauty, Deal not ungently with a desperate wound! No breach of reason dares make war with her Whose looks are sovereignty, whose breath is balm. O, that I could preserve thee in fruition165 As in devotion! Pen. Sir, may every evil Lock’d in Pandora’s box shower, in your presence, On my unhappy head, if, since you made me A partner in your bed, I have been faulty In one unseemly thought against your honour! Ith. Purge not his griefs, Penthea. Bass. Yes, say on,171 Excellent creature!—[To Ithocles.] Good, be not a hindrance To peace and praise of virtue.—O, my senses Are charm’d with sounds celestial!—On, dear, on: I never gave you one ill word; say, did I?175 Indeed I did not. Pen. Nor, by Juno’s forehead, Was I e’er guilty of a wanton error. Bass. A goddess! let me kneel. Grau. Alas, kind animal! Ith. No; but for penance. Bass. Noble sir, what is it? With gladness I embrace it; yet, pray let not My rashness teach you to be too unmerciful.181 Ith. When you shall show good proof that manly wisdom, Not oversway’d by passion or opinion, Knows how to lead [your] judgment, then this lady, Your wife, my sister, shall return in safety185 Home, to be guided by you; but, till first I can out of clear evidence approve it, She shall be my care. Bass. Rip my bosom up, I’ll stand the execution with a constancy; This torture is unsufferable. Ith. Well, sir,190 I dare not trust her to your fury. Bass. But Penthea says not so. Pen. She needs no tongue To plead excuse who never purpos’d wrong. Hem. Virgin of reverence and antiquity, Stay you behind. Gro. [to Grausis.] The court wants not your diligence.195 Exeunt all but Bass, and Grau. Grau. What will you do, my lord? My lady’s gone; I am deni’d to follow. Bass. I may see her, Or speak to her once more? Grau. And feel her too, man; Be of good cheer, she ’s your own flesh and bone. Bass. Diseases desperate must find cures alike.200 She swore she has been true. Grau. True, on my modesty. Bass. Let him want truth who credits not her vows! Much wrong I did her, but her brother infinite; Rumour will voice me the contempt of manhood,204 Should I run on thus. Some way I must try To outdo art, and [jealousy decry.][4187] Exeunt.