ACT I. SCENE I.

_Palermo. A State-room in the Palace._

_Enter_ ASTUTIO _and_ ADORNI.

_Ador._ Good day to your lordship.

_Ast._ Thanks, Adorni.

_Ador._ May I presume to ask if the ambassador Employ'd by Ferdinand, the duke of Urbin, Hath audience this morning?

_Enter_ FULGENTIO.

_Ast._ 'Tis uncertain; For, though a counsellor of state, I am not Of the cabinet council: but there's one, if he please, That may resolve you.

_Ador._ I will move him.--Sir!

_Ful._ If you've a suit, show water[133], I am blind else.

_Ador._ A suit; yet of a nature not to prove The quarry[134] that you hawk for: if your words Are not like Indian wares, and every scruple To be weigh'd and rated, one poor syllable, Vouchsafed in answer of a fair demand, Cannot deserve a fee.

_Ful._ It seems you are ignorant, I neither speak nor hold my peace for nothing; And yet, for once, I care not if I answer One single question, gratis.

_Ador._ I much thank you. Hath the ambassador audience, sir, to-day?

_Ful._ Yes.

_Ador._ At what hour?

_Ful._ I promised not so much. A syllable you begg'd, my charity gave it; Move me no further. [_Exit._

_Ast._ This you wonder at: With me, 'tis usual.

_Ador._ Pray you, sir, what is he?

_Ast._ No gentleman, yet a lord. He hath some drops Of the king's blood running in his veins, derived Some ten degrees off. His revenue lies In a narrow compass, the king's ear; and yields him Every hour a fruitful harvest. Men may talk Of three crops in a year in the Fortunate Islands, Or profit made by wool; but, while there are suitors, His sheepshearing, nay, shaving to the quick, Is in every quarter of the moon, and constant. In the time of trussing a point,[135] he can undo, Or make a man: his play or recreation, Is to raise this up, or pull down that; and, though He never yet took orders, makes more bishops In Sicily, than the pope himself.

_Enter_ BERTOLDO, GASPARO, ANTONIO, _and a Servant_.

_Ador._ Most strange!

_Ast._ The presence fills. He in the Malta habit[136] Is the king's natural brother.

_Ador._ I understand you.

_Bert._ With this jewel Presented to Camiola, prepare, This night, a visit for me. [_Exit Servant._] I shall have Your company, gallants, I perceive, if that The king will hear of war.

_Ant._ You are, sir, A knight of Malta, and, as I have heard, Have served against the Turk.

_Bert._ 'Tis true.

_Ant._ Pray you, show us The difference between the city valour, And service in the field.

_Bert._ 'Tis somewhat more Than roaring in a tavern or a brothel, Or to steal a constable[137] from a sleeping watch, Then burn their halberds; or, safe guarded by Your tenant's sons, to carry away a May-pole From a neighbour village. You will not find there Your masters of dependencies[138] to take up A drunken brawl, or, to get you the names Of valiant chevaliers, fellows that will be, For a cloak with thrice-dyed velvet, and a cast suit, Kick'd down the stairs. A knave with a provant sword[139], If you bear not yourself both in and upright, Will slash your scarlets and your plush a new way; Or, with the hilts, thunder about your ears Such music as will make your worships dance To the doleful tune of _Lachrymæ_[140].

_Gasp._ I must tell you In private, as you are my princely friend, I do not like such fiddlers.

_Bert._ No! they are useful For your imitation; I remember you, When you came first to the court, and talk'd of nothing But your rents and your entradas[141], ever chiming The golden bells in your pockets; you believed The taking of the wall as a tribute due to Your gaudy clothes; and could not walk at midnight Without a causeless quarrel, as if men Of coarser outsides were in duty bound To suffer your affronts: but, when you had been Cudgell'd well twice or thrice, and from the doctrine Made profitable uses, you concluded, The sovereign means to teach irregular heirs Civility, with conformity of manners, Were two or three sound beatings.

_Ant._ I confess They did much good upon me.

_Gasp._ And on me: The principles that they read were sound.

_Bert._ You'll find The like instructions in the camp.

_Ast._ The king!

_A flourish. Enter_ ROBERTO, FULGENTIO, _Ambassador, and Attendants_.

_Rob._ [_ascends the throne._] We sit prepared to hear.

_Amb._ Your majesty Hath been long since familiar, I doubt not, With the desperate fortunes of my lord; and pity Of the much that your confederate hath suffer'd, You being his last refuge, may persuade you Not alone to compassionate, but to lend Your royal aids to stay him in his fall To certain ruin. He, too late, is conscious That his ambition to encroach upon His neighbour's territories, with the danger of His liberty, nay, his life, hath brought in question His own inheritance: but youth, and heat Of blood, in your interpretation, may Both plead and mediate for him. I must grant it An error in him, being denied the favours Of the fair princess of Sienna, (though He sought her in a noble way,) to endeavour To force affection by surprisal of Her principal seat, Sienna.

_Rob._ Which now proves The seat of his captivity, not triumph: Heaven is still just.

_Amb._ And yet that justice is To be with mercy temper'd, which heaven's deputies Stand bound to minister. The injured duchess, By reason taught, as nature, could not, with The reparation of her wrongs, but aim at A brave revenge; and my lord feels, too late, That innocence will find friends. The great Gonzaga, The honour of his order, (I must praise Virtue, though in an enemy,) he whose fights And conquests hold one number, rallying up Her scatter'd troops, before we could get time To victual or to man the conquer'd city, Sat down before it; and presuming that 'Tis not to be relieved, admits no parley, Our flags of truce hung out in vain: nor will he Lend an ear to composition, but exacts, With the rendering up the town, the goods and lives Of all within the walls, and of all sexes, To be at his discretion.

_Rob._ Since injustice In your duke meets this correction, can you press us, With any seeming argument of reason, In foolish pity to decline[142] his dangers, To draw them on ourself? Shall we not be Warn'd by his harms? The league proclaim'd between us Bound neither of us further than to aid Each other, if by foreign force invaded; And so far in my honour I was tied. But since, without our counsel, or allowance, He hath ta'en arms; with his good leave, he must Excuse us if we steer not on a rock We see, and may avoid. Let other monarchs Contend to be made glorious by proud war, And, with the blood of their poor subjects, purchase Increase of empire, and augment their cares In keeping that which was by wrongs extorted, Gilding unjust invasions with the trim Of glorious conquests; we, that would be known The father of our people, in our study And vigilance for their safety, must not change Their ploughshares into swords, and force them from The secure shade of their own vines, to be Scorch'd with the flames of war; or, for our sport, Expose their lives to ruin.

_Amb._ Will you, then, In his extremity, forsake your friend?

_Rob._ No; but preserve ourself.

_Bert._ Cannot the beams Of honour thaw your icy fears?

_Rob._ Who's that?

_Bert._ A kind of brother, sir, howe'er your subject; Your father's son, and one who blushes that You are not heir to his brave spirit and vigour, As to his kingdom.

_Rob._ How's this!

_Bert._ Sir, to be His living chronicle, and to speak his praise, Cannot deserve your anger.

_Rob._ Where's your warrant For this presumption?

_Bert._ Here, sir, in my heart: Let sycophants, that feed upon your favours, Style coldness in you caution, and prefer Your ease before your honour; and conclude, To eat and sleep supinely is the end Of human blessings: I must tell you, sir, Virtue, if not in action, is a vice; And when we move not forward, we go backward[143]: Nor is this peace, the nurse of drones and cowards, Our health, but a disease.

_Gasp._ Well urged, my lord.

_Ant._ Perfect what is so well begun.

_Amb._ And bind My lord your servant.

_Rob._ Hair-brain'd fool! what reason Canst thou infer, to make this good?

_Bert._ A thousand, Not to be contradicted. But consider Where your command lies: 'tis not, sir, in France, Spain, Germany, Portugal, but in Sicily; An island, sir. Here are no mines of gold Or silver to enrich you; no worm spins Silk in her womb, to make distinction Between you and a peasant, in your habits; No fish lives near our shores, whose blood can dye Scarlet or purple; all that we possess, With beasts we have in common: nature did Design us to be warriors, and to break through Our ring, the sea, by which we are environ'd; And we by force must fetch in what is wanting, Or precious to us. Add to this, we are A populous nation, and increase so fast, That, if we by our providence are not sent Abroad in colonies, or fall by the sword, Not Sicily, though now it were more fruitful Than when 't was styled the granary of great Rome, Can yield our numerous fry bread: we must starve, Or eat up one another.

_Ador._ The king hears With much attention.

_Ast._ And seems moved with what Bertoldo hath deliver'd.

_Bert._ May you live long, sir, The king of peace, so you deny not us The glory of the war; let not our nerves Shrink up with sloth, nor, for want of employment, Make younger brothers thieves: it is their swords, sir, Must sow and reap their harvest. If examples May move you more than arguments, look on England, The empress of the European isles, And unto whom alone ours yields precedence: When did she flourish so, as when she was The mistress of the ocean, her navies Putting a girdle round about the world? When the Iberian quaked, her worthies named; And the fair flower-de-luce grew pale, set by The red rose and the white? Let not our armour Hung up, or our unrigg'd armada, make us Ridiculous to the late poor snakes our neighbours, Warm'd in our bosoms, and to whom again We may be terrible. Rouse us, sir, from the sleep Of idleness, and redeem our mortgaged honours. Your birth, and justly, claims my father's kingdom; But his heroic mind descends to me: I will confirm so much.

_Ador._ In his looks he seems To break ope Janus' temple.

_Ast._ How these younglings Take fire from him!

_Ador._ It works an alteration Upon the king.

_Ant._ I can forbear no longer: War, war, my sovereign!

_Ful._ The king appears Resolved, and does prepare to speak.

_Rob._ Think not Our counsel 's built upon so weak a base, As to be overturn'd, or shaken, with Tempestuous winds of words. As I, my lord, Before resolved you, I will not engage My person in this quarrel; neither press My subjects to maintain it: yet, to show My rule is gentle, and that I have feeling O' your master's sufferings, since these gallants, weary Of the happiness of peace, desire to taste The bitter sweets of war, we do consent That, as adventurers and volunteers, No way compell'd by us, they may make trial Of their boasted valours.

_Bert._ We desire no more.

_Rob._ 'Tis well; and, but my grant in this, expect not Assistance from me. Govern, as you please, The province you make choice of; for, I vow By all things sacred, if that thou miscarry In this rash undertaking, I will hear it No otherwise than as a sad disaster, Fallen on a stranger; nor will I esteem That man my subject, who, in thy extremes, In purse or person aids thee. Take your fortune: You know me; I have said it. So, my lord, You have my absolute answer.

_Amb._ My prince pays, In me, his duty.

_Rob._ Follow me, Fulgentio, And you, Astutio. [_Flourish. Exeunt_ ROBERTO, FULGENTIO, ASTUTIO, _and Attendants_.

_Gasp._ What a frown he threw, At his departure, on you!

_Bert._ Let him keep His smiles for his state flatterer, I care not.

_Ant._ Shall we aboard to night?

_Amb._ Your speed, my lord, Doubles the benefit.

_Bert._ I have a business Requires despatch; some two hours hence I'll meet you. [_Exeunt._

FOOTNOTES:

[133] _Show water_,] i. e. _to clear his sight_. A proverbial periphrasis for a _bribe_, which, in Massinger's days, (though happily not since,) was found to be the only collyrium for the eyes of a courtier.--GIFFORD.

[134] _Quarry_,] i. e. _the game sought_.

[135] _Trussing a point_,] i. e. _tying the strings that support the hose or breeches_. These strings were tagged, and are therefore called _points_.

[136] _The Malta habit._] The dress of the knights of Malta was black, having a cross of white waxed cloth on the left side of their cloak. None were admitted into the order but those who were noble both on the father and mother's side for four generations, unless they were, like Bertoldo, the natural sons of kings and princes.

[137] _Or to steal a constable from a sleeping watch._] The _constable_ was the captain of the band; this therefore was to deprive these trusty guardians of the night of their leader.--GIFFORD.

[138] _Masters of dependencies._] They were a set of needy bravoes, who undertook to ascertain the authentic grounds of a quarrel, and in some cases to settle it, for the timorous or unskilful. In the punctilious days of our author, all matters relative to duelling were arranged, in set treatises, with a gravity that, in a business less serious, would be infinitely ridiculous. Troops of disbanded soldiers, or rather of such as pretended to be so, took up the "noble science of arms," and, with the use of the small sword, (then a novelty,) taught a jargon respecting the various modes of "honourable quarrelling," which, though seemingly calculated to baffle alike the patience and the understanding, was a fashionable object of study. The dramatic poets, faithful to the moral end of their high art, combated this contagious folly with the united powers of wit and humour; and, after a long and well-conducted struggle, succeeded in rendering it as contemptible as it was odious, and finally suppressed it altogether.--GIFFORD.

[139] _A provant sword._] A plain, unornamented sword, such as the army is supplied with. Properly speaking, _provant_ means provisions; but our old writers extend it to all the articles that make up the magazine of an army.--GIFFORD.

[140] _Lachrymæ._] The first word of the title of a musical work composed by John Dowland, in the time of James the First. The full title was, "Lachrymæ; or, Seven Teares figured in seaven passionate Pavans (_i. e._ affecting, serious dances); with divers other Pavans, Galiards, and Almands, set forth to the Lute, Viols, or Violins, in five Parts." This work was very popular, and is frequently alluded to by the writers of our author's age.

[141] _Entradas_,] i. e. _rents, revenues_.

[142] _To decline_,] i. e. _to divert from their course_. This sense of the word is frequent in our old poets.

[143] _Virtue, if not in action, is a vice; And when we move not forward, we go backward._] This is a beautiful improvement on Horace:

_Paulum sepultæ distat inertiæ Celata virtus._

The last line of the text alludes to the Latin adage _Non progredi est regredi_.--GIFFORD.