Chapter 24

_Enter_ BRAND _solus; with cup, bottle of poison_.

BRAND. Good, by this hand! exceeding, passing good! The dog no sooner drank it, but yugh! yugh! quoth he: So grins me with his teeth, lies down and dies: Yugh! quoth I: by God's blood, go thy ways. Of all thy line and generation, Was never dog so worshipp'd as thou art, For, ere thou died'st, thou wert an officer, I lie not, by these[348] nails: a squire's place; For the vile cur became a countess's taster: So died the dog. Now in our next account The countess comes; let's see, a countess and a nun: Why so, why so! What, would she have the whole world quite undone? We'll mete[349] her for that trick. What, not a king? Hanging's too good for her. I am but a plain knave. And yet should any of these "no forsooths," These pray-aways, these trip-and-goes, these tits, Deny me, now by these-- A plague upon this bottle and this cup, I cannot act mine oath! but to't again-- By these ten ends of flesh and blood[350] I swear, First with this hand, wound thus about her hair,

And with this dagger lustily lambeak'd[351]-- I would, i' faith, ay, by my villainy, I would.--But here, but here she comes, Led by two doctors in sweet lechery. If they speed, with my poison I go by; If not, have at you, maid: then step in I.

_Enter_ MATILDA, _between the_ MONK _and the_ ABBESS.[352]

MONK. And as I said, fair maid, you have done well, In your distress, to seek this holy place. But tell me truly, how do you expel The rage of lust-arising heat in you?

MAT. By prayer, by fasting, by considering The shame of ill, and meed of doing well.

ABB. But daughter, daughter, tell me in my ear, Have you no fleshly fightings now and then? [_Whisper_.

BRAND. Fleshly, quoth you, a maid of three-score years? And fleshly fightings sticking in her teeth? Well, wench, thou'rt match'd, i' faith. [_Aside_.]

ABB. You do confess the king has tempted you, And thinking now and then on gifts and state, A glowing heat hath proudly puff'd you up: But, thanks to God, his grace hath done you good.

MONK. Who? the king's grace?

MAT. No; God's grace, holy monk.

MONK. The king's grace would fain do you good, fair maid.

MAT. Ill-good: he means my fame to violate.

ABB. Well, let that be.

BRAND. Good bawd, good mother B.[353] How fain you would that that good deed should be! [_Aside_.]

ABB. I was about to say somewhat upon a thing: O, thus it is. We maids that all the day are occupied In labour and chaste, hallow'd exercise, Are nothing so much tempted, while day lasts, As we are tried and proved in the night. Tell me, Matilda, had you, since you came, No dreams, no visions, nothing worth the note?

MAT. No, I thank God.

ABB. Truly you will, you will, Except you take good heed, and bless yourself; For if I lie but on my back awhile I am, past recovery, sure of a bad dream. You see yon reverend monk: now, God he knows, I love him dearer for his holiness, And I believe the devil knows it too; For the foul fiend comes to me many a night, As like the monk, as if he were the man-- Many a hundred nights the nuns have seen, Pray, cry, make crosses, do they what they can-- Once gotten in, then do I fall to work, My holy-water bucket being near-hand, I whisper secret spells, and conjure him, That the foul fiend hath no more power to stand: He down, as I can quickly get him laid, I bless myself, and like a holy maid, Turn on my right side, where I sleep all night Without more dreams or troubling of the sprite.

BRAND. An abbess? By the cross of my good blade,[354] An excellent mother to bring up a maid! For me, I mean, and my good master John; But never any for an honest man. [_Coughs_. Now, fie upon that word of honesty, Passing my throat't had almost choked me: 'Sblood, I'll forswear it for this trick. [_Aside_.]

MONK. We trifle time. Fair maid, it's thus in brief: This abbey by your means may have relief; An hundred marks a year. Answer, I pray, What will you do herein?

MAT. Even all I may.

ABB. It's charitably spoken, my fair child: A little thing of yours, a little help, Will serve the turn: learn but to bear--to bear The burden of this world, and it will do.

BRAND. Well, go thy ways: is this no bawd, think you? [_Aside_.]

MAT. Madam, the heavy burden of the world Hath long oppress'd me.

ABB. But not press'd you right; Now shall you bear a burden far more light.

MAT. What burden-bearing? whereto tends this talk?

MONK. To you, to us, this abbey, and King John.

MAT. O God, forfend he should be thought upon!

MONK. Lady, make short: the king must lie with you.

MAT. With me? with me? [_First turns to the_ MONK, _then to the_ ABBESS.

ABB. Sweet, never look so strange: He shall come closely,[355] nobody shall see.

MAT. How can he come, but One hath eyes to see?

MONK. Your chamber-windows shall be shadowed.

MAT. But no veil from my conscience shadows me.

ABB. And all the nuns sent quietly to bed.

MAT. But they will rise, and by my blushing red Quickly give guess of my lost maidenhead.

BRAND. She goes, i' faith: by God, she is their own! [_Aside_.

MONK. Be not so nice, the sin is venial, Considering you yield for charity; And by your fall the nunnery shall rise.

ABB. Regard good counsel, daughter: pray, be wise.

MONK. Come, here's a stir! will't do, wench? will it do?

ABB. Say ay, say ay; forget the sound of no: Or else say no, and take it:[356] wilt thou so?

MAT. Do you intend thus lewdly as you speak?

BRAND.[357] Ay, by Gog's blood, do they; and, moppet, you were best To take their proffers, lest, if they forsake you, I play the devil's part--step in, and take you.

MAT. Some holy water! help me, blessed nuns! Two damned spirits, in religious weeds, Attempt to tempt my spotless chastity; And a third devil, gaping for my soul, With horrid starings ghastly frighteth me.

ABB. You may Call while you will; but, maid, list what we say, Or be assur'd this is your dying day.

MAT. In his name that did suffer for my sin, And by this blessed sign, I conjure you. [_Draws a crucifix_. Depart, foul fiends, and cease to trouble me.

BRAND. 'Zounds, she thinks us devils! Hear you, conjuror, Except you use that trick to conjure down The standing spirit of my lord the king, That your good mother there, the Abbess, uses To conjure down the spirit of the monk, Not all your crosses have the power to bless Your body from a sharp and speedy death.

MAT. Are ye not fiends, but mortal bodies, then? [_Feels them all_.

BRAND. Maid, maid, catch lower when you feel young men. 'Sblood, I was never taken for the devil till now.

MAT. O, where shall chastity have true defence, When churchmen lay this siege to innocence? Where shall a maid have certain sanctuary, When Lady Lust rules all the nunnery? Now fie upon ye both, false seeming saints, Incarnate devils, devilish hypocrites! A cowled monk, an aged veiled nun, Become false panders, and with lustful speech Essay the chaste ears of true maidenhead! Now fie upon this age! Would I were dead!

MONK. Come, leave her, lady: she shall have her wish.

ABB. Speed her, I pray thee: should the baggage live, She'll slander all the chaste nuns in the land.

[_Exeunt_ MONK, ABBESS.

BRAND. Well, well, go; get you two unto your conjuring: Let me alone to lay her on God's ground.

MAT. Why dost thou stay?

BRAND. Why, maid, because I must: I have a message to you from the king.

MAT. And thou art welcome to his humble maid. I thought thee to be grim and fierce at first, But now thou hast a sweet aspect, mild looks. Art thou not come to kill me from the king?

BRAND. Yes.

MAT. And thou art welcome; even the welcom'st man That ever came unto a woful maid. Be brief, good fellow: I have in the world No goods to give, no will at all to make; But God's will and the king's on me be done! A little money, kept to give in alms, I have about me: deathsman, take it all; Thou art the last poor almsman I shall see. Come, come, despatch! What weapon will death wear, When he assails me? Is it knife or sword, A strangling cord, or sudden flaming fire?

BRAND. Neither, thou manly maid. Look here, look here: A cup of poison. Wherefore dost thou smile?

MAT. O God! in this the king is merciful: My dear-lov'd Huntington by poison died. Good fellow, tell the king I thank his grace, And do forgive his causeless cruelty. I do forgive thee too, but do advise Thou leave this bloody course, and seek to save Thy soul immortal, closed in thy breast: [_He gives it her_. Be brief, I pray you. Now, to King John's health A full carouse:[358] and, God, remember not The curse he gave himself at Robin's death, Wishing by poison he might end his life, If ever he solicited my love. Farewell, good fellow. Now thy medicine works. And with the labour I am forc'd to rest.

BRAND. 'Zounds! she cares not: she makes death a jest.

MAT. The guiltless fear not death. Farewell, good friend; I pray thee, be no trouble in my end. [_He stands staring and quaking_.

_Enter_ OXFORD, QUEEN, ABBESS, _Attendants_.

OX. And say you, Lady Abbess, that there came One from the king unto her? what was he?

ABB. Yonder he stands: I know not what he is. [_Still he stands staring_.

QUEEN. Jesus have mercy! Oxford, come not nigh him.

OX. Not nigh him, madam? yes: keep you away.

ABB. Come in, good queen; I do not mean to stay. [_Exit_ ABBESS.

QUEEN. Nor I to stir before I see the end.[359]

OX. Why star'st thou thus? speak, fellow: answer me. Who art thou?

BRAND. A bloody villain and a murderer! A hundred have I slain with mine own hands. 'Twas I that starv'd the Lady Bruce to death And her young son at Windsor Castle late: 'Tis I have slain Matilda, blessed maid, And now will hurry to damnation's mouth, Forc'd by the gnawing worm of conscience. [_Runs in_.

OX. Hold him, for God's sake! stay the desperate wretch.

MAT. O, some good pitying man compassionate That wretched man, so woful desperate: Save him, for God's sake! he hath set me free From much world's woe, much wrong, much misery.

QUEEN. I hear thy tongue, true perfect charity! Chaste maid, fair maid, look up and speak to me.

MAT. Who's here? My gracious sovereign Isabel! I will take strength and kneel.

QUEEN. Matilda, sit; I'll kneel to thee. Forgive me, gentle girl, My most ungentle wrongs.

MAT. Fair, beauteous queen, I give God thanks I do not think on wrongs.

OX. How now, Fitzwater's child! How dost thou, girl?

MAT. Well, my good Lord of Oxford; pretty well: A little travail[360] more, and I shall rest, For I am almost at my journey's end. O that my head were rais'd a little up, My drowsy head, whose dim decaying lights Assure me it is almost time to sleep. [_Raise her head_. I thank your highness; I have now some ease. Be witness, I beseech your majesty, That I forgive the king with all my heart; With all the little of my living heart, That gives me leave to say I can forgive; And I beseech high heaven he long may live A happy king, a king belov'd and fear'd. Oxford, for God's sake, to my father write The latest commendations of his child; And say Matilda kept his honour's charge, Dying a spotless maiden undefil'd. Bid him be glad, for I am gone to joy, I, that did turn his weal to bitter woe. The king and he will quickly now grow friends, And by their friendship much content will grow. Sink, earth to earth; fade, flower ordain'd to fade, But pass forth, soul, unto the shrine of peace; Beg there atonement may be quickly made. Fair queen, kind Oxford, all good you attend. Fly forth, lay soul, heaven's King be there thy friend. [_Dies_.

OX. O pity-moving sight![361] age pitiless! Are these the messages King John doth send? Keep in, my tears, for shame! your conduits keep, Sad woe-beholding eyes: no, will ye not? Why, then, a God's name, weep. [_Sit_.

QUEEN. I cannot weep for ruth.[362] Here, here! take in The blessed body of this noble maid: In milk-white clothing let the same be laid Upon an open bier, that all may see King John's untimely lust and cruelty.

[_Exeunt with the body_.

OX. Ay, be it so; yourself, if so you please, Will I attend upon, and both us wait On chaste Matilda's body, which with speed To Windsor Castle we will hence convey. There is another spectacle of ruth, Old Bruce's famish'd lady and her son.

QUEEN. There is the king besieging of young Bruce: His lords are there who, when they see this sight, I know will have small heart for John to fight.

OX. But where's the murderer, ha? is not he stay'd?

SER.[363] Borne with a violent rage he climb'd a tree, And none of us could hinder his intent; But getting to the top-boughs, fast he tied His garters to his neck and a weak branch; Which being unable to sustain his weight, Down to the ground he fell, where bones and flesh Lie pash'd[364] together in a pool of blood.

OX. Alas for woe! but this is just heaven's doom On those that live by blood: in blood they die. Make[365] an example of it, honest friends: Do well, take pains, beware of cruelty. Come, madam, come: to Windsor let us go, And there to Bruce's grief add greater woe.

[_Exeunt_.