Chapter 22

_Alarum within: excursions: enter_ FITZWATER, BRUCE.

FITZ. Now doth fair fortune offer hope of speed; But howsoe'er we speed, good cousin Bruce, March with three hundred bows and pikes to Windsor, Spreading a rumour that the day is ours, As ours it shall be with the help of heaven. Blunt loves our part far better than the king's, And will, I gage my life, upon the news Surrender up the castle to our use. By this means shall you help us to a hold, Howe'er it chance: set free your lady mother, That lives in prison there with your young brother.

BRUCE. Away, good uncle, to the battle go! But that a certain good ensues, I know, For all the world I would not leave you so.

FITZ. Away, away! God send thee Windsor: us this happy day.

_Alarum still. Enter_ HUBERT _and_ MATILDA.[334]

HUB. You cannot hide yourself, Matilda; no disguise Will serve the turn: now must you to the king, And all these wars will with your presence cease. Yield you to him, he soon will yield to peace.

MAT. They say thou took'st some pity of a child, The king appointing thee to sear his eyes; Men do report thee to be just of word, And a dear lover of my lord the king. If thou didst that, if thou be one of these, Pity Matilda, prostrate at thy feet.

HUB. I sav'd young Arthur's eyes, and pity thee; My word is just, which I have given the king; The king I love, and thee I know he loves: Compare these, then how can I pleasure thee?

MAT. By letting me escape to Dunmow Abbey, Where I will end my life a votary.

HUB. And the king die with doting on thy love?

MAT. No, no; this fire of lust would be soon laid, If once he knew me sworn a holy maid.

HUB. Thy tears and love of virtue have the power To make me at an instant true and false: True to distressed beauty and rare chastity; False to King John, that holds the sight of thee Dearer than England or earth's empery. Go, happy soul, that in so ill an age Hast such fair beauty for thy heritage: Yet go not so alone. Dost hear, tall soldier? [_Call a Soldier_. I know thee honest: guide this gentle maid To Dunmow Abbey: she is one I know. I will excuse thee, and content thee well; My signet take, that ye may pass unsearch'd.

MAT. Kind Hubert, many prayers for this good deed Shall on my beads be daily numbered.

[_Exeunt_.

_Enter_ LEICESTER, RICHMOND, FITZWATER.

LEI. O treble heat of honour, toil, and rage! How cheers Earl Richmond? Fitzwater, speak, old man. We are now near together: answer me.

FITZ. Leicester, the more our woe, The likelier to be taken by the foe.

RICH. O, let not such a thought abuse thy age! We'll never yield us to the tyrant's rage.

LEI. But if my girl be yielded-- If she be!

FITZ. Ay, ay-- There's no man but shall have his time to die.

LEI. Now is our hour, which they shall dearly by.

_Enter_ KING, HUBERT, CHESTER, MOWBRAY.

RICH. Leicester, we'll stand like three battalions: What says our noble general thereto?

FITZ. Why, I say, do: [And] while I can, I'll keep my place with you.

KING. How now, my bugbear, will you now submit?

LEI. To death, but not to thee.

KING. Richmond, nor you?

RICH. Earl Richmond will not yield.

KING. Methinks, Fitzwater, you should have more wit.

FITZ. If it be wit to live, I have no will; And so in this my will o'errules my wit.

KING. Alarum then! with weapons will we scourge Your desperate will, and teach ye to have wit.

[_Fight: drive back the_ KING.

KING. Of high heroic spirits be they all. We will withdraw a little, and confer, For they are circled round, and cannot 'scape. [_Withdraw_.

RICH. O that we three who, in the sun's arise Were, like the three Triumviri[335] of Rome, Guides of an host, able to vanquish Rome, Are now alone, enclos'd with enemies!

FITZ. The glory of the world hath no more stay, But as it comes, it fleets, and fades away.

LEI. Courage, and let us die! they come again: It's Lord Hubert alone. Hubert, what news?[336]

_Enter_ HUBERT.

HUB. This day's fierce slaughter, John our king laments, And to you three, great leaders of an host, That now have not a man at all to lead, You worthy captains without companies--

LEI. Fitzwater! Richmond! by the blessed sun, Lord Hubert mocks us.

HUB. By the moon, I do not; and put the blessed to't, It is as good an oath as you have sworn. My heart grieves that so great hearts as yours be Should put your fortunes on a sort[337] of slaves, That bring base fear within them to the field. But to the matter--sith your state is such, That without mercy you are sure of death (Which I am sure, and well his highness knows, You do not fear at all), yet he gives grant, On just conditions you shall save your lives.

FITZ. On no condition will I save my life, Except Matilda be return'd again, Unblemish'd, unabus'd; and then I yield.

HUB. She now is where she never will return.

FITZ. Never? O God! is my Matilda dead?

HUB. Dead to the world; dead to this woe she is. She lives at Dunmow, and is vow'd a nun.

FITZ. Do not delude me, Hubert, gentle son.

HUB. By all the faith and honour of my kin, By my unstain'd allegiance to the king. By my own word, that hath reproveless been, She is at Dunmow.

FITZ. O, how came she there?

HUB. When all these fields were walks for rage and fear: This howling like a head of hungry wolves,[338] That, scudding as a herd of frighted deer: When dust, arising like a coal-black fog, From friend divided friend, join'd foe to foe, Yet neither those nor these could either know; Till here and there, through large wide-mouthed wounds, Proud life, even in the glory of his heat Losing possession, belch'd forth streams of blood, Whose spouts in falling made ten thousand drops, And with that purple shower the dust allay'd-- At such a time met I the trembling maid; Seeming a dove from all her fellows parted-- Seen, known, and taken; unseen and unknown To any other that did know us both, At her entreats I sent her safely guided To Dunmow Abbey; and the guide return'd Assures me she was gladfully receiv'd, Pitied, and in his sight did take her oath.

FITZ. Hubert, for this thy honourable deed I and my house will reverence thy name.

HUB. Yet, I beseech you, hide it from the king; At least that I convey'd her to the place.

_Enter_ KING, MOWBRAY, CHESTER.

FITZ. Hubert, I will.

KING. What, stand they still on terms?

LEI. On honourable terms, on terms of right. Our lives without our liberty we scorn.

KING. You shall have life and liberty, I swear.

LEI. Then Leicester bows his knee to his liege lord, And humbly begs his highness to beware Of wronging innocence, as he hath done.

RICH. The like Richmond desires, and yields his sword.

KING. I do embrace ye both, and hold myself Richer by a whole realm in having you.

FITZ. Much is my wrong; yet I submit with these, Begging free leave to live a private life.

KING. Old brands of malice in thy bosom rest: Thou shalt have leave to leave me, never doubt. Fitzwater, see thou ship thee straight for France, And never set thy foot on English shore, Till I repeal thee. Go, go hence in peace.

LEI. Why doth your highness wrong Fitzwater thus?

KING. I right his wrong; he's weary of the land.

RICH. Not of the land, but of a public life.

KING. Content ye, lords: in such quick times as these We must not keep a drone among our bees.

FITZ. I am as glad to go as you to send: Yet I beseech this favour of your grace, That I may see Matilda, ere I part.

KING. Matilda! see Matilda, if thou canst, Before sunset: stay not another day.

FITZ[339]. The abbey-walls, that shroud my happy child, Appear within her hapless father's sight. Farewell, my sovereign, Leicester, Richmond, lords: Farewell to all; grief gives no way to words.

KING. Fitzwater, stay: lords, give us leave awhile. Hubert, go you before unto the abbess, And signify our coming. Let her bring Matilda to her father. (_Exit_ HUBERT.) Come, old man; Be not too froward, and we shall be friends. About this girl our mortal jars began, And, if thou wilt, here all our quarrel ends.

FITZ. Reserve my honour and my daughter's fame, And no poor subject that your grace commands Shall willinger submit, obey, and serve.

KING. Do then but this. Persuade thy beauteous child To leave the nunnery and return to court, And I protest from henceforth to forswear All such conceits of lust as I have borne.

FITZ. I will, my lord, do all that I may do; But give me leave in this to doubt of you.

KING. This small thing grant, and ask me anything; Or else die in exile, loath'd of the king.

FITZ. You shall perceive I will do what I may.

_Enter on the wall_, ABBESS, MATILDA. _Re-enter_ HUBERT.

HUB. Matilda is afraid to leave the house; But lo, on yonder battlement she stands, But in no case will come within your hands.

KING. What! will my lady-abbess war[340] with us? Speak, lady; wherefore shut you up your gates?

ABB. Have we not reason, when an host of men Hunt and pursue religious chastity? King John, bethink thee what thou tak'st in hand On pain of interdiction of thy land. Murderers and felons may have sanctuary, And shall not honourable maids distress'd, Religious virgins, holy nuns profess'd, Have that small privilege? Now, out upon thee, out! Holy Saint Catherine, shield my virginity! I never stood in such extremity.

HUB. My lord, the abbess lies, I warrant you; For I have heard there is a monk of Bury, That once a week comes thither to make merry.

KING. Content thee, Hubert; that same monk and she, And the worst come, my instruments shall be. Good lady-abbess, fear no violence; There's not one here shall offer you offence.

FITZ. Daughter, all this while tears my speech have stay'd. My lord the king, lords, all draw near, I pray, And hear a poor man's parting from his child. Matilda, still my unstain'd honour's joy, Fair ornament of old Fitzwater's coat,[341] Born to rich fortunes, did not this ill-age Bereave thee of thy birthright's heritage, Thou see'st our sovereign--lord of both our lives, A long besieger of thy chastity-- Hath scatter'd all our forces, slain our friends, Razed our castles, left us ne'er a house Wherein to hide us from his wrathful eye: Yet God provides; France is appointed me, And thou find'st house-room in this nunnery. Here, if the king should dote as he hath done, It's sacrilege to tempt a holy nun: But I have hope he will not; yet my fear So drowns my hope, as I am forc'd to stay, And leave abruptly what I more would say.

MAT. O, go not yet, my griev'd heart's comforter! I am as valiant to resist desire As ever thou wert worthy in the field. John may attempt, but if Matilda yield, O, then--

FITZ. Ay, then, Matilda, thou dost lose The former glory of thy chaste resolves. These seven years hast thou bid[342] a martyr's pains, Resisting in thyself lust-growing fire, For, being mortal, sure thou hast desire; And five sad winters have their full course run, Since thou didst bury noble Huntington. In these years many months and many days Have been consum'd thy virtues to consume. Gifts have been heralds; panders did presume To tempt thy chaste ears with their unchaste tongues: All in effect working to no effect; For I was still the watchman of thy tower, The keeper of foul worms from my fair flower. But now no more, no more Fitzwater may Defend his poor lamb from the lion's prey-- Thy order and thy holy prayers may. To help thee thou hast privilege by law; Therefore be resolute, and nobly die! Abhor base lust, defend thy chastity.

KING. Despatch, Fitzwater: hinder not thy child: Many preferments do on her await.

FITZ. Ay, girl, I know thou shalt be offer'd wealth, Which is a shrewd enticement in sad want, Great honours to lift up thy low estate, And glorious titles to eternise thee. All these do but gild over ugly shame; Such wealth, my child, foreruns releaseless need, Such honour ever proves dishonourate. For titles, none comes near a virtuous name: O, keep it ever, as thou hast done yet! And though these dark times should forget thy praise, An age will come that shall eternise it. Bid me farewell, and speak it in a word.

MAT. Farewell, dear father.

FITZ. O, farewell, sweet child. My liege, farewell: Leicester, Richmond, Hubert, Chester and Mowbray, friends and foes, farewell. Matilda, see thou keep thy spotless fame, And live eternis'd, else die soon with shame. [_Exit_.

MAT. Amen, amen: father, adieu, adieu! Grief dwells with me, sweet comfort follow you!

ABB. Come, daughter, come. This is a woful sight, When good endeavours are oppress'd by might.

[_Exeunt from above_ ABBESS, MATILDA.

KING. Ah, Hubert! seest thou not the sun go down, Cloudy and dark? Matilda, stay! one word. She shakes her head, and scornfully says nay.

RICH. How cheer'st thou, Leicester?

LEI. Mad, man, at my state, That cannot raise true honour ruinate.

_Enter_ MESSENGER.

KING. I will not be disdain'd. I vow to see Quick vengeance on this girl for scorning me.

MES. Young Bruce, my lord, hath gotten Windsor Castle, Slain Blunt your constable, and those that kept it; And finding in a tower his mother dead, With his young brother starv'd and famished, That every one may see the rueful sight, In the thick wall he a wide window makes; And as he found them, so he lets them be, A spectacle to every comer-by, That heaven and earth your tyrant shame may see. All people cursing, crying fie upon, The tyrant, merciless, inhuman John.

KING. Chester and Mowbray, march away to Windsor: Suppress that traitor Bruce. What, if his dam In wilful fury would receive no meat, Nor suffer her young child any to eat, Is it our fault? haste ye with speed away, And we will follow. Go; begone, I pray.

[_Exeunt_ CHESTER, MOWBRAY.

HUB. O black and woful deed! O piteous thing, When slaves attend the fierce thoughts of a king.

LEI. My lord, shall we go too?

KING. Leicester and Richmond, ay, I pray ye, do.

LEI. Get I my bear and ragged staff once more Rais'd in the field, for these wrongs some shall roar.

[_Exeunt_ RICHMOND, LEICESTER.

KING. Fetch in the monk of Bury, that I talk'd of, [_Exeunt_ HUBERT _for the_ MONK. And bid Will Brand, my instrument of death, Come likewise in. Convert to raging hate

_Enter_ MONK, HUBERT, BRAND.

My long-resisted love! welcome, good monk.

MONK. Thanks to my liege.

KING. Thou hast been long in suit To be installed abbot of your house, And in your favour many friends have stirr'd. Now is the hour that you shall be preferr'd Upon condition--and the matter small. Short shrift to make, good honest confessor, I love a fair nun, now in Dunmow Abbey: The abbess loves you, and you pleasure her; Now, if between you two this pretty lady Could be persuaded to affect a king, Your suit is granted, and on Dunmow Abbey I will bestow a hundred marks a year.

MONK. A holy nun! a young nun! and a lady! Dear wear, my lord; yet bid you well as may be. Strike hands; a bargain: she shall be your own, Or if she will not--

KING. Nay, if she do refuse, I'll send a death's man with you; this is he. If she be wilful, leave her to his hands, And on her own head be her hasted end.

MONK. The matter shall be done.

KING. Sirrah, what poisons have you ready?

BRAND. Store, store.

KING. Wait on the monk, then, and ere we take horse, I'll give you such instructions as you need. Hubert, repair[343] to Windsor with our host.

[_Exeunt_ KING, MONK, _and_ BRAND.

HUB. Your tyrannies have lost my love almost, And yet I cannot choose but love eternally This wanton king, replete with cruelty. O, how are all his princely virtues stain'd With lust abhorred and lascivious heat Which, kindling first to fire, now in a flame, Shows to the whole world clearly his foul shame. To quench this flame full many a tide of tears, Like overflowing-full seas, have been spent; And many a dry land drunk with human blood; Yet nothing helps his passions violent: Rather they add oil to his raging fire, Heat to his heat, desire to his desire. Somewhat, I fear, is now a-managing, For that prodigious bloody stigmatic[344] Is never call'd unto his kingly sight, But like a comet he portendeth still Some innovation or some monstrous act, Cruel, unkindly, horrid, full of hate; As that vile deed at Windsor done of late. Gentle Matilda, somewhat I mistrust; Yet thee I need not fear, such is his love. Again, the place doth give thee warrantise; Yet I remember when his highness said, The lustful monk of Bury should him aid. Ay, so it is: if she have any ill, Through the lewd shaveling will her shame be wrought. If it so chance, Matilda's guiltless wrong Will with the loss of many a life be bought. But Hubert will be still his dread lord's friend, However he deserves, his master serve; Though he neglect, him will I not neglect: Whoever fails him, I will John affect; For though kings fault[345] in many a foul offence, Subjects must sue, not mend with violence. [_Exit_.