Act 2 — SCENE III.

Near the Palace.

Enter Vortiger and Gentlemen. Alarm and noise of skirmishes within.

First Gent. My lord, these Saxons bring a fortune with them

Stay[s]^[408] any Roman success.

Vort. On, speak, forwards!

I will not take one minute from thy tidings.

First Gent. The main supporters of this insurrection

They’ve^[409] taken prisoners, and the rest so tame[d],

They stoop to the least grace that flows from mercy.

Vort. Never came power guided by better stars

Than these men’s fortitudes: yet they’re misbelievers,

Which to my reason is wondrous.

Enter Hengist, Horsus, and Soldiers, with Prisoners.

You’ve given me such a first taste of your worth,

’Twill never from my love; when life is gone,

The memory sure will follow, my soul still

Participating immortality with it.

But here’s the misery of earth’s limited glory,

There’s not a way reveal’d to any honour

Above the fame^[410] which your own merits give you.

Heng. Indeed, my lord, we hold, when all’s summ’d up

That can be made for worth to be express’d,

The fame that a man wins himself is best;

That he may call his own. Honours put to him

148Make him no more a man than his clothes do,

And are as soon ta’en off; for in the warmth

The heat comes from the body, not the weeds:

So man’s true fame must strike from his own deeds.

And since by this event which fortune speaks us,

This land appears the fair predestin’d soil

Ordain’d for our good hap, we crave, my lord,

A little earth to thrive on, what you please,

Where we’ll but keep a nursery of good spirits

To fight for you and yours.

Vort. Sir, for our treasure,

’Tis open to your merits, as our love;

But for ye’re strangers in religion chiefly—

Which is the greatest alienation can be,

And breeds most factions in the bloods of men—

I must not yield to that.

Enter Simon with a hide.

Heng. ’S precious, my lord,

I see a pattern; be it but so little

As yon poor hide will compass.

Vort. How, the hide!

Heng. Rather than nothing, sir.

Vort. Since you’re so reasonable,

Take so much in the best part of our kingdom.

Heng. We thank your grace.

[Exit Vortiger with Gentlemen.

Rivers from bubbling springs

Have rise at first, and great from abject things.

Stay yonder fellow: he came luckily,

And he shall fare well for’t, whate’er he be;

We’ll thank our fortune in rewarding him.

Hor. Stay, fellow!

Sim. How, fellow? ’tis more than you know, whether I be your fellow or no; I am sure you see me not.

Heng. Come, what’s the price of your hide?

149Sim. O unreasonable villain! he would buy the house over a man’s head. I’ll be sure now to make my bargain wisely; they may buy me out of my skin else. [Aside.]—Whose hide would you buy, mine or the beast’s? There is little difference in their complexions: I think mine is the blacker of the two: you shall see for your love, and buy for your money.—A pestilence on you all, how have you deceived me! you buy an ox-hide! you buy a calf’s gather! They are all hungry soldiers, and I took them for honest shoe-makers. [Aside.

Heng. Hold, fellow; prithee, hold;—right a fool worldling

That kicks at all good fortune;—whose man art thou?

Sim. I am a servant, yet a masterless man, sir.

Heng. Prithee, how can that be?

Sim. Very nimbly, sir; my master is dead, and now I serve my mistress; ergo, I am a masterless man: she is now a widow, and I am the foreman of her tan-pit.

Heng. Hold you, and thank your fortune, not your wit.

[Gives him money.

Sim. Faith, and I thank your bounty, and not your wisdom; you are not troubled with wit neither greatly, it seems. Now, by this light, a nest of yellow-hammers! What will become of me? if I can keep all these without hanging myself, I am happier than a hundred of my neighbours. You shall have my skin into the bargain; then if I chance to die like a dog, the labour will be saved of flaying me: I’ll undertake, sir, you shall have all the skins in our parish at this price, men’s and women’s.

Heng. Sirrah, give good ear to me: now take the hide

And cut it all into the slenderest thongs

That can bear strength to hold.

150Sim. That were a jest, i’faith: spoil all the leather? sin and pity! why, ’twould shoe half your army.

Heng. Do it, I bid you.

Sim. What, cut it all in thongs? Hum, this is like the vanity of your Roman gallants, that cannot wear good suits, but they must have them cut and slashed in giggets, that the very crimson taffaties sit blushing at their follies. I would I might persuade you from this humour of cutting; ’tis but a swaggering condition,^[411] and nothing profitable: what if it were but well pinked? ’twould last longer for a summer suit.

Heng. What a cross lump of ignorance have I lighted on!

I must be forc’d to beat my drift into him.— [Aside.

Look you, to make you wiser than your parents,

I have so much ground given me as this hide

Will compass, which, as it [now] is, is nothing.

Sim. Nothing, quotha?

Why, ’twill not keep a hog.^[412]

Heng. Now with the ’vantage

Cut into several pieces, ’twill stretch far,

And make a liberal circuit.

Sim. A shame on your crafty hide! is this your cunning? I have learnt more knavery now than ever I shall claw off while I live. I’ll go purchase land by cow-tails, and undo the parish; three good bulls’ pizzles would set up a man for ever: this is like a pin a-day to set up a haberdasher of small wares.

Heng. Thus men that mean to thrive, as we, must learn

Set in a foot at first.

Sim. A foot do you call it? The devil is in that foot that takes up all this leather.

151Heng. Despatch, and cut it carefully with all

The advantage, sirrah.

Sim. You could never have lighted upon such a fellow to serve your turn, captain. I have such a trick of stretching, too! I learned it of a tanner’s man that was hanged last sessions at Maidstone: I’ll warrant you, I’ll get you a mile and a half more than you’re aware of.

Heng. Pray, serve me so as oft as you will, sir.

Sim. I am casting about for nine acres to make a garden-plot out of one of the buttocks.

Heng. ’Twill be a good soil for nosegays.

Sim. ’Twill be a good soil for cabbages, to stuff out the guts of your followers there.

Heng. Go, see it carefully perform’d: [Exit Simon with Soldiers.

It is the first foundation of our fortunes

On Britain’s earth, and ought to be embrac’d

With a respect near link’d to adoration.

Methinks it sounds to me a fair assurance

Of large honours and hopes; does it not, captain?

Hor. How many have begun with less at first,

That have had emperors from their bodies sprung,

And left their carcasses as much in monument

As would erect a college!

Heng. There’s the fruits

Of their religious show too; to lie rotting

Under a million spent in gold and marble.

Hor. But where shall we make choice of our ground, captain?

Heng. About the fruitful flanks of uberous^[413] Kent,

A fat and olive soil; there we came in.

O captain, he has given he knows not what!

Hor. Long may he give so!

152Heng. I tell thee, sirrah, he that begg’d a field

Of fourscore acres for a garden-plot,

’Twas pretty well; but he came short of this.

Hor. Send over for more Saxons.

Heng. With all speed, captain.

Hor. Especially for Roxena.

Heng. Who, my daughter?

Hor. That star of Germany, forget not her, sir:

She is a fair fortunate maid.—

Fair she is, and fortunate may she be;

But in maid lost for ever. My desire

Has been the close confusion of that name.

A treasure ’tis, able to make more thieves

Than cabinets set open to entice;

Which learn them theft that never knew the vice. [Aside.

Heng. Come, I’ll despatch with speed.

Hor. Do, forget none.

Heng. Marry, pray help my memory.

Hor. Roxena, you remember?

Heng. What more, dear sir?

Hor. I see your memory’s clear, sir. [Shouts within.

Heng. Those shouts leap’d from our army.

Hor. They were too cheerful

To voice a bad event.

Enter a Gentleman.

Heng. Now, sir, your news?

Gent. Roxena the fair—

Heng. True, she shall be sent for.

Gent. She’s here, sir.

Heng. What say’st?

Gent. She’s come, sir.

Hor. A new youth

Begins me o’er again. [Aside.

153Gent. Follow’d you close, sir,

With such a zeal as daughter never equall’d;

Expos’d herself to all the merciless dangers

Set in mankind or fortune; not regarding

Aught but your sight.

Heng. Her love is infinite to me.

Hor. Most charitably censur’d; ’tis her cunning,

The love of her own lust, which makes a woman

Gallop down hill as fearless as a drunkard.

There’s no true loadstone in the world but that;

It draws them through all storms by sea or shame:

Life’s loss is thought too small to pay that game. [Aside.

Gent. What follows more of her will take you^[414] strongly.

Heng. How!

Gent. Nay, ’tis worth your wonder.

Her heart, joy-ravish’d with your late success,

Being the early morning of your fortunes,

So prosperously new opening at her coming,

She takes a cup of gold, and, midst the army,

Teaching her knee a reverend cheerfulness,

Which well became her, drank a liberal health

To the king’s joys and yours, the king in presence;

Who with her sight, but her behaviour chiefly,

Or chief but one or both, I know not which,—

But he’s so far ’bove my expression caught,

’Twere art enough for one man’s time and portion

To speak him and miss nothing.

Heng. This is astonishing!

Hor. O, this ends bitter now! our close-hid flame

Will break out of my heart; I cannot keep it.

[Aside.

Heng. Gave you attention, captain? how now, man?

Hor. A kind of grief ’bout^[415] these times of the moon still:

154I feel a pain like a convulsion,

A cramp at heart; I know not what name fits it.

Heng. Nor never seek one for it, let it go

Without a name; would all griefs were serv’d so!

Flourish. Re-enter Vortiger, with Roxena and Attendants.

Hor. A love-knot already? arm in arm! [Aside.

Vort. What’s he

Lays claim to her?

Heng. In right of father-hood

I challenge an obedient part.

Vort. Take it,

And send [me] back the rest.

Heng. What means your grace?

Vort. You’ll keep no more than what belongs to you?

Heng. That’s all, my lord; it all belongs to me;

I keep the husband’s interest till he come:

Yet out of duty and respect to majesty,

I send her back your servant.

Vort. My mistress, sir, or nothing.

Heng. Come again;

I never thought to hear so ill of thee.

Vort. How, sir, so ill?

Heng. So beyond detestable.

To be an honest vassal is some calling,

Poor is the worst of that, shame comes not to’t;

But mistress, that[’s] the only common bait

Fortune sets at all hours, catching whore with it,

And plucks them up by clusters. There’s my sword, my lord;

[Offering his sword to Vortiger.

And if your strong desires aim at my blood,

Which runs too purely there, a nobler way

Quench it in mine.

155Vort. I ne’er took sword in vain:

Hengist, we here create thee earl of Kent.

Hor. O, that will do’t! [Aside, and falls.

Vort. What ails our friend? look to him.

Rox. O, ’tis his epilepsy; I know it well:

I help’d him once in Germany; comes it again?

A virgin’s right hand strok’d upon his heart

Gives him ease straight; but it must be a pure virgin[’s],

Or else it brings no comfort.

Vort. What a task

She puts upon herself, unurgèd purity!

The truth of this will bring love’s rage into me.

Rox. O, this would mad a woman! there’s no proof

In love to indiscretion.^[416]

Hor. Pish! this cures not.

Rox. Dost think I’ll ever wrong thee?

Hor. O, most feelingly!

But I’ll prevent it now, and break thy neck

With thy own cunning. Thou hast undertaken

To give me help, to bring in royal credit

Thy crack’d virginity, but I’ll spoil all:

I will not stand on purpose, though I could,

But fall still to disgrace thee.

Rox. What, you will not?

Hor. I have no other way to help myself;

For when thou’rt known to be a whore imposterous,^[417]

I shall be sure to keep thee.

156Rox. O sir, shame me not!

You’ve had what is most precious; try my faith;

Undo me not at first in chaste opinion.

Hor. All this art shall not make me feel my legs.

Rox. I prithee, do not wilfully confound me.

Hor. Well, I’m^[418] content for this time to recover,

To save thy credit, and bite in my pain;

But if thou ever fail’st me, I will fall,

And thou shalt never get me up again. [Rises.

Rox. Agreed ’twixt you and I, sir.—See, my lord,

A poor maid’s work! the man may pass for health now

Among the clearest bloods, and those are nicest.

Vort. I’ve^[419] heard of women brought men on their knees,

But few that e’er restored them.—How now, captain?

Hor. My lord, methinks I could do things past man,

I’m so renew’d in vigour; I long most

For violent exercise to take me down:

My joy’s so high in blood, I’m above frailty.

Vort. My lord of Kent.

Heng. Your love’s unworthy creature.

Vort. See’st thou this fair chain? think upon the means

To keep it link’d for ever.

Heng. O my lord,

’Tis many degrees sunder’d from my hope!

Besides, your grace has a young virtuous queen.

Vort. I say, think on it.

Hor. If this wind hold, I fall to my old disease. [Aside.

Vort. There’s no fault in thee but to come so late;

All else is excellent: I chide none but fate. [Exeunt.

157