SCENE I.

_Before a Monastery._[359]

_Shouts within; then enter_ VORTIGER, _carrying the crown_.

VORT. Will that wide-throated beast, the multitude, Never leave bellowing? Courtiers are ill Advisèd when they first make such monsters. How near was I to a sceptre and a crown! Fair power was even upon me; my desires Were casting glory, till this forkèd rabble, With their infectious acclamations, Poison’d my fortunes for Constantine’s sons. Well, though I rise not king, I’ll seek the means To grow as near to one as policy can, And choke their expectations.

_Enter_ DEVONSHIRE _and_ STAFFORD.

Now, good lords, In whose kind loves and wishes I am built As high as human dignity can aspire, Are yet those trunks, that have no other souls But noise and ignorance, something more quiet? DEVON. Nor are they like to be, for aught we gather: Their wills are up still; nothing can appease them; Good speeches are but cast away upon them. VORT. Then, since necessity and fate withstand me, I’ll strive to enter at a straiter passage. Your sudden aid and counsels, good my lords. STAFF. They’re[360] ours no longer than they do you service.

_Enter_ CONSTANTIUS _in the habit of a monk, attended by_ GERMANUS _and_ LUPUS: _as they are going into the monastery_, VORTIGER _stays them_.

VORT. Vessels of sanctity, be pleas’d a while To give attention to the general peace, Wherein heaven is serv’d too, though not so purely. Constantius, eldest son of Constantine, We here seize on thee for the general good, And in thy right of birth. CONST. On me! for what, lords? VORT. The kingdom’s government. CONST. O powers of blessedness, Keep me from growing downwards into earth again! I hope I’m[361] further on my way than so.— Set forwards! VORT. You must not. CONST. How! VORT. I know your wisdom Will light upon a way to pardon us, When you shall read in every Briton’s brow The urg’d necessity of the times. CONST. What necessity can there be in the world, But prayer and repentance? and that business I am about now. VORT. Hark, afar off still! We lose and hazard much.—Holy Germanus And reverend Lupus, with all expedition Set the crown on him. CONST. No such mark of fortune Comes near my head. VORT. My lord, we’re[362] forc’d to rule you. CONST. Dare you receive heaven’s light in at your eyelids, And offer violence to religion? Take heed; The very beam let in to comfort you May be the fire to burn you. On these knees, [_Kneeling._ Harden’d with zealous prayers, I entreat you Bring not my cares into the world again! Think with how much unwillingness and anguish A glorified soul parted from the body Would to that loathsome jail again return: With such great pain a well-subdu’d affection Re-enters worldly business. VORT. Good my lord, I know you cannot lodge so many virtues, But patience must be one. As low as earth [_Kneeling with_ DEVONSHIRE _and_ STAFFORD. We beg the freeness of your own consent, Which else must be constrain’d; and time it were Either agreed or forc’d. Speak, good my lord, For you bind up more sins in this delay Than thousand prayers can absolve again. CONST. Were’t but my death, you should not kneel so long for’t. VORT. ’Twill be the death of millions if you rise not, And that betimes too.—Lend your help, my lords, For fear all come too late. [_They rise and raise_ CONSTANTIUS. CONST. This is a cruelty That peaceful man did never suffer yet, To make me die again, that once was dead, And begin all that ended long before. Hold, Lupus and Germanus: you are lights Of holiness and religion; can you offer The thing that is not lawful? stand not I Clear from all temporal charge by my profession? GER. Not when a time so violent calls upon you. Who’s[363] born a prince, is born a general peace,[364] Not his own only: heaven will look for him In others’ acts,[365] and will requite[366] him there. What is in you religious, must be shewn In saving many more souls than your own. CONST. Did not great Constantine, our noble father, Deem me unfit for government and rule, And therefore preas’d[367] me into this profession? Which I’ve[368] held strict, and love it above glory. Nor is there want of me: yourselves can witness, Heaven hath provided largely for your peace, And bless’d you with the lives of my two brothers: Fix your obedience there, leave me a servant. [_They put the crown on the head of_ CONSTANTIUS. ALL. Long live Constantius, son of Constantine, King of Great Britain! CONST. I do feel a want And extreme poverty of joy within; The peace I had is parted ’mongst rude men; To keep them quiet, I have lost it all. What can the kingdom gain by my undoing? That riches is not best, though it be mighty, That’s purchas’d by the ruin of another; Nor can the peace, so filch’d, e’er[369] thrive with them: And if’t be worthily held sacrilege To rob a temple, ’tis no less offence To ravish meditations from the soul, The consecrated altar in a man: And all their hopes will be beguil’d in me; I know no more the way to temporal rule, Than he that’s born and has his years come to him In a rough desert. Well may the weight kill me; And that’s the fairest good I look for from it. VORT. Not so, great king: here stoops a faithful servant Would sooner perish under it with cheerfulness, Than your meek soul should feel oppression Of ruder cares: such common coarse employments Cast upon me your servant, upon Vortiger. I see you are not made for noise and pains, Clamours of suitors, injuries, and redresses, Millions of actions, rising with the sun, Like laws still ending, and yet never done, Of power to turn a great man to the state Of his marble monument with over-watching. To be oppress’d is not requir’d of you, my lord, But only to be king. The broken sleeps Let me take from you, sir; the toils and troubles, All that is burthenous in authority, Please you lay it on me, and what is glorious Receive’t[370] to your own brightness. CONST. Worthy Vortiger, If ’twere not sin to grieve another’s patience With what we cannot tolerate ourself, How happy were I in thee and thy love! There’s nothing makes man feel his miseries But knowledge only: reason, that is plac’d For man’s director, is his chief afflictor; For though I cannot bear the weight myself, I cannot have that barrenness of remorse,[371] To see another groan under my burthen. VORT. I’m[372] quite blown up a conscionable way: There’s even a trick of murdering in some pity. The death of all my hopes I see already: There was no other likelihood, for religion Was never friend of mine yet. [_Aside._ CONST. Holy partners in strictest abstinence, Cruel necessity hath forc’d me from you: We part, I fear, for ever; but in mind I will be always here; here let me stay. DEVON. My lord, you know the times. CONST. Farewell, blest souls; I fear I shall offend: He that draws tears from you takes your best friend. [_Exeunt_ CONSTANTIUS, DEVONSHIRE, _and_ STAFFORD; _while_ LUPUS _and_ GERMANUS _enter the monastery_. VORT. Can the great motion of ambition stand, Like wheels false wrought by an unskilful hand? Then, Time, stand thou too: let no hopes arrive At their sweet wishfulness, till mine set forwards. Would I could stay thy[373] existence, as I can Thy glassy counterfeit in hours of sand! I’d keep thee turn’d down, till my wishes rose; Then we’d[374] both rise together. What several inclinations are in nature! How much is he disquieted, and wears royalty Disdainfully upon him, like a curse! Calls a fair crown the weight of his afflictions! When here’s a soul would sink under the burthen, Yet well recover’t.[375] I will use all means To vex authority from him, and in all Study what most may discontent his blood, Making my mask my zeal to the public good: Not possible a richer policy Can have conception in the thought of man.

_Enter two_ GRAZIERS.

FIRST GRAZ. An honourable life enclose your lordship! VORT. Now, what are you? SECOND GRAZ. Graziers, if’t like[376] your lordship. VORT. So it should seem by your enclosures. What’s your affair with me? FIRST GRAZ. We are your Petitioners, my lord. VORT. For what? depart: Petitioners to me! you’ve[377] well deserv’d My grace and favour. Have you not a ruler After your own election? hie you to court; Get near and close, be loud and bold enough, You cannot choose but speed. [_Exit._ SECOND GRAZ. If that will do’t, We have throats wide enough; we’ll put them to’t. [_Exeunt._

DUMB SHOW.

FORTUNE _discovered, in her hand a round ball full of lots; then enter_[378] HENGIST and HORSUS, _with others: they draw lots, and having opened them, all depart save_ HENGIST _and_ HORSUS, _who kneel and embrace: then enter_ ROXENA, _seeming to take leave of_ HENGIST _in great passion,[379] but more especially and warily of_ HORSUS, _her lover: she departs one way_, HENGIST _and_ HORSUS _another_.

_Enter_ RAYNULPH.

RAY. When Germany was overgrown With sons of peace too thickly sown, Several guides were chosen then By destin’d lots, to lead out men; And they whom Fortune here withstands Must prove their fates in other lands. On these two captains fell the lot; But that which must not be forgot, Was Roxena’s cunning grief; Who from her father, like a thief, Hid her best and truest tears, Which her lustful lover wears In many a stoln and wary kiss, Unseen of father. Maids do this, Yet highly scorn to be call’d strumpets too: But what they lack of’t, I’ll be judg’d by you. [_Exit._