Act 4 — SCENE III.

A Plain near Salisbury.

Enter Hengist, with Saxons.

Heng. If we let slip this opportuneful hour,

Take leave of fortune, certainty, or thought

193Of ever fixing: we are loose at root,

And the least storm may rend us from the bosom

Of this land’s hopes for ever. But, dear Saxons,

Fasten we now, and our unshaken firmness

Will endure after-ages.

First Sax. We are resolv’d, my lord.

Heng. Observe you not how Vortiger the king,

Base in submission, threaten’d our expulsion,

His arm held up against us? Is’t^[505] not time

To make our best prevention? What should check me?

He has perfected that great work in our daughter,

And made her queen: she can ascend no higher.

Therefore be quick; despatch. Here, every man

Receive into the service of his vengeance

An instrument of steel, which will unseen [Distributing daggers.

Lurk, like a snake under the innocent shade

Of a spread summer-leaf: there, fly you on.

Take heart, the commons love us; those remov’d

That are the nerves, our greatness stands improv’d.

First Sax. Give us the word, my lord, and we are perfect.

Heng. That’s true; the word,—I lose myself—Nemp your sexes:^[506]

It shall be that.

194First Sax. Enough, sir: then we strike.

Heng. But the king’s mine: take heed you touch him not.

First Sax. We shall not be at leisure; never fear it;

We shall have work enough of our own, my lord.

Heng. Calm looks, but stormy souls possess you all!

Enter Vortiger and British Lords.

Vort. We see you keep your words in all points firm.

Heng. No longer may we boast of so much breath

As goes to a word’s making, than of care

In the preserving of it when ’tis made.

Vort. You’re in a virtuous way, my lord of Kent:

And since both sides are met, like sons of peace,

All other arms laid by in signs of favour,

If our conditions be embrac’d—

Heng. They are.

Vort. We’ll use no other but these only here.

Heng. Nemp your sexes.

British Lords. Treason! treason!

[The Saxons stab the British Lords.

Heng. Follow it to the heart, my trusty Saxons!

It is your liberty, your wealth, and honour.—

Soft, you are mine, my lord. [Seizing Vortiger.

Vort. Take me not basely, when all sense and strength

Lie^[507] bound up in amazement at this treachery.

195What devil hath breath’d this everlasting part

Of falsehood into thee?

Heng. Let it suffice

I have you, and will hold you prisoner,

As fast as death holds your best props in silence.

We know the hard conditions of our peace,

Slavery or diminution; which we hate

With a joint loathing. May all perish thus,

That seek to subjugate or lessen us!

Vort. O, the strange nooks of guile or subtilty,

When man so cunningly lies hid from man!

Who could expect such treason from thy breast,

Such thunder from thy voice? Or tak’st thou pride

To imitate the fair uncertainty

Of a bright day, that teems a sudden storm,

When the world least expects one? but of all,

I’ll ne’er trust fair sky in a man again:

There’s the deceitful weather. Will you heap

More guilt upon you by detaining me,

Like a cup taken after a sore surfeit,

Even in contempt of health and heaven together?

What seek you?

Heng. Ransom for your liberty,

As I shall like of, or you ne’er obtain it.

Vort. Here’s a most headlong dangerous ambition!

Sow you the seeds of your aspiring hopes

In blood and treason, and must I pay for them?

Heng. Have not I rais’d you to this height of pride?

A work of my own merit, since you enforce it.

Vort. There’s even the general thanks of all aspirers:

When they have all a kingdom can impart,

They write above it still their own desert.

196Heng. I’ve^[508] writ mine true, my lord.

Vort. That’s all their sayings.

Have not I rais’d thy daughter to a queen?

Heng. You have the harmony of your pleasure for it;

You crown your own desires; what’s that to me?

Vort. And what will crown yours, sir?

Heng. Faith, things of reason:

I demand Kent.

Vort. Why, you’ve the earldom of it.

Heng. The kingdom of’t, I mean, without control,

In full possession.

Vort. This is strange in you.

Heng. It seems you’re not acquainted with my blood,

To call this strange.

Vort. Never was king of Kent,

But who was general king.

Heng. I’ll be the first then:

Every thing has beginning.

Vort. No less title?

Heng. Not if you hope for liberty, my lord.

So dear a happiness would not be wrong’d

With slighting.

Vort. Very well: take it; I resign it.

Heng. Why, I thank your grace.

Vort. Is your great thirst yet satisfied?

Heng. Faith, my lord,

There’s yet behind a pair of teeming sisters,

Norfolk and Suffolk, and I’ve^[509] done with you.

Vort. You’ve got a dangerous thirst of late, my lord,

Howe’er you came by’t.^[510]

197Heng. It behoves me then,

For my blood’s health, to seek all means to quench it.

Vort. Them too?

Heng. There will nothing be abated, I assure you.

Vort. You have me at advantage: he whom fate

Does captivate, must yield to all. Take them.

Heng. And you your liberty and peace, my lord,

With our best love and wishes.—Here’s an hour

Begins us, Saxons, in wealth, fame, and power.

[Exit with Saxons.

Vort. Are these the noblest fruits and fair’st requitals

From works of our own raising?

Methinks,^[511] the murder of Constantius

Speaks to me in the voice of’t,^[512] and the wrongs

Of our late queen, slipt both into one organ.

Enter Horsus.

Ambition, hell, my own undoing lust,

And all the brood of plagues, conspire against me:

I have not a friend left me.

Hor. My lord, he dies

That says it, but yourself, were’t that thief-king,

198That has so boldly stoln his honours from you;

A treason that wrings tears from honest manhood.

Vort. So rich am I now in thy love and pity,

I feel no loss at all: but we must part,

My queen and I to Cambria.

Hor. My lord, and I not nam’d,

That have vow’d lasting service to my life’s

Extremest minute!

Vort. Is my sick fate blest with so pure a friend?

Hor. My lord, no space of earth, nor breadth of sea,

Shall divide me from you.

Vort. O faithful treasure!

All my lost happiness is made up in thee. [Exit.

Hor. I’ll follow you through the world, to cuckold you;

That’s my way now. Every one has his toy

While he lives here: some men delight in building,

A trick of Babel, which will ne’er be left;

Some in consuming what was rais’d with toiling;

Hengist in getting honour, I in spoiling. [Exit.