John Fletcher - Beaumont & Fletcher's Works (3 of 10) - The Loyal Subject

Bur. You have shew'd the Prince his faults;
And like a good Surgeon you have laid
That to 'em makes 'em smart; he feels it,
Let 'em not fester now, Sir; your own honour,
The bounty of that mind, and your allegiance,
'Gainst which I take it, Heaven gives no Command, Sir,
Nor seals no Vow, can better teach ye now
What ye have to do, than I, or this necessity;
Only this little's left; would ye do nobly,
And in the Eye of Honour truly triumph?
Conquer that mind first, and then men are nothing.

Alin. Last, a poor Virgin kneels; for loves sake General,
If ever you have lov'd; for her sake, Sir,
For your own honesty, which is a Virgin,
Look up, and pity us, be bold and fortunate,
You are a Knight, a good and noble Souldier,
And when your Spurs were given ye, your Sword buckl'd,
Then were you sworn for Vertues Cause, for Beauties,
For Chastity to strike; strike now, they suffer;
Now draw your Sword, or else you are recreant,
Only a Knight i'th' Heels, i'th' Heart a Coward;
Your first Vow honour made, your last but anger.

Ar. How like my vertuous Wife this thing looks, speaks too?
So would she chide my dulness: fair one, I thank ye.
My gracious Sir, your pardon, next your hand:
Madam, your favour, and your prayers: Gentlemen,
Your wishes, and your loves: and pretty sweet one,
A favour for your Souldier.

Olymp. Give him this, Wench.

Alin. Thus do I tye on Victory.

Arc. My Armour,
My Horse, my Sword, my tough Staff, and my Fortune,
And Olin now I come to shake thy glory.

Du. Go, brave and prosperous, our loves go with thee.

Olymp. Full of thy vertue, and our Prayers attend thee.

Bur. &c. Loaden with Victory, and we to honour thee.

Alin. Come home the Son of Honour,
And I'll serve ye. [ Exeunt.

Duke. No news of Archas yet?

Bur. But now, and't please ye,
A Post came in, Letters he brought none with him,
But this deliver'd: He saw the Armies join,
The game of Blood begun, and by our General,
Who never was acquainted but with Conquest,
So bravely fought, he saw the Tartars shaken,
And there he said he left 'em.

Du. Where's Boroskie ?

1 Gent. He's up again, and't please ye.

Bur. Sir, methinks
This News should make ye lightsome, bring joy to ye,
It strikes our hearts with general Comfort. [ Exit Duke.
Gone? What should this mean, so suddenly?
He's well?

2 Gent. We see no other.

1 Gent. Would the rest were well too,
That put these starts into him.

Bur. I'll go after him.

2 Gent. 'Twill not be fit, Sir: h'as some secret in him
He would not be disturb'd in: know you any thing
Has crost him since the General went?

Bur. Not any:
If there had been, I am sure I should have found it:
Only I have heard him oft complain for money:
Money he says he wants.

1 Gent. It may be that then.

Bur. To him that has so ma[n]y wayes to raise it,
And those so honest, it cannot be.

1 Gent. He comes back,
And Lord Boroskie with him.

Bur. There the game goes,
I fear some new thing hatching.

Duke. Come hither Burris .
Go see my Sister, and commend me to her,
And to my little Mistriss give this Token;
Tell her I'le see her shortly.

Bur. Yes, I shall, Sir. [ Ex. Bur. and Gent.

Duke. Wait you without: I would yet try him further.

Bor. 'Twill not be much amiss: has your Grace heard yet
Of what he has done i'th' Field?

Duke. A Post but now
Came in, who saw 'em joyn, and has delivered,
The Enemy gave ground before he parted.

Bor. 'Tis well.

Duke. Come, speak thy mind man: 'tis not for fighting,
A noise of War, I keep thee in my bosom;
Thy ends are nearer to me; from my Childhood
Thou brought'st me up: and like another nature,
Made good all my necessities: speak boldly.

Bor. Sir, what I utter, will be thought but envy
Though I intend, high heaven knows, but your honour,
When vain and empty people shall proclaim me —
Good Sir excuse me.

Duke. Do you fear me for your Enemy?
Speak on your duty.

Bor. Then I must, and dare, Sir:
When he comes home, take heed the Court receive him not,
Take heed he meet not with their loves and praises,
That Glass will shew him ten times greater, Sir,
(And make him strive to make good that proportion,)
Than ere his fortune bred him, he is honourable,
At least I strive to understand him so,
And of a nature, if not this way poyson'd,
Perfect enough, easie, and sweet, but those are soon seduc'd, Sir;
He's a great man, and what that Pill may work,
Prepar'd by general voices of the people,
Is the end of all my Counsel, only this, Sir,
Let him retire a while, there's more hangs by it
Than you know yet: there if he stand a while well,
But till the Souldier cool, whom, for their service
You must pay now most liberally, most freely,
And showre your self into 'em; 'tis the bounty
They follow with their loves, and not the bravery.

Duke. But where's the Money? how now?

2 Gent. Sir, the Colonel,
Son to the Lord Archas , with most happy news
Of the Tartars overthrow, without here
Attends your Graces pleasure.

Bor. Be not seen, Sir,
He's a bold fellow, let me stand his Thunders,
To th' Court he must not come: no blessing here, Sir,
No face of favour, if you love your honour.

Duke. Do what you think is meetest; I'le retire, Sir. [ Ex.

Bor. Conduct him in, Sir – welcome noble Colonel.

The. That's much from your Lordship: pray where's the Duke?

Bor. We hear you have beat the Tartar .

The. Is he busie, Sir?

Bor. Have ye taken Olin yet?

The. I would fain speak with him.

Bor. How many men have ye lost?