Captive to fortune, and a slave to want ;
I cannot call these clothes I wear mine own,
I do not eat but at another's cost,
This air I breathe is borrow'd; ne'er was man
So poor and abject. I have not so much
In all this universe as a thing to leave,
Or a country I can freely boast is mine.
My essence and my being is another's.
What should I say? I am not any thing;
And I possess as little.
Come, come, I know you to be no such man.
You are a soldier valiant and renown'd;
Your carriage tried by land, and prov'd at sea;
Of which I have heard such full expression,
No contradiction can persuade you less ;
And in this faith I am constant.
Mont. A meer worm,
Trod on by every fate.
Pet. Rais'd by your merit
To be a common argument through Spain,
And speech at Princes' tables, for your worth;
Your presence when you please to expose 't abroad
Attracts all eyes, and draws them after you;
And those that understand you, call their friends,
And pointing through the street say, This is he,
This is that brave and noble Englishman,
Whom soldiers strive to make their precedent,
And other men their wonder.
Mont. This your scorn
Makes me appear more abject to myself,
Than all diseases I have tasted yet
Had power to asperse upon me; and yet, Lady,
I could say something, durst I.
Pet. Speak 't at once.
Mont. And yet
Pet. Nay, but we'll admit no pause.
Mont. I know not how my phrase may relish
And loth I were to offend; even in what's past
I must confess I was too bold. Farewell;
I shall no more distaste you.
I do proclaim you do not. Stay, I charge you; Or, as you say you have been fortune's scorn, So ever prove to woman.
Mont. You charge deeply, And yet now I bethink me
Pet. As you are a soldier,
And Englishman, have hope to be redeem'd
From this your scorned bondage you sustain,
Have comfort in your mother and fair sister,
Renown so blazed in the ears of Spain,
Hope to rebreathe that air you tasted first,
So tell me
Pet. Your apprehension catch'd, And almost was in sheaf
Mont. Lady, I shall.
Pet. And in a word.
Mont. I will.
Pet. Pronounce it then.
Mont. I love you.
Pet. Ha, ha, ha.
Mont. Still it is my misery
Thus to be mock'd in all things.
Pet. Pretty, faith.
Mont. I look'd thus to be laught at; my estate
And fortunes, I confess, deserve no less;
That made me so unwilling to denounce
Mine own derisions: but alas!
No nation, sex, complexion, birth, degree,
But jest at want, and mock at misery.
Mont. I do, I do; and maugre Fate,
And spite of all sinister evil, shall.
And now I charge you, by that filial zeal
You owe your father, by the memory
Of your dear mother, by the joys you hope
In blessed marriage, by the fortunate issue
Stored in your womb, by these and all things else
That you can style with goodness; instantly
Without evasion, trick, or circumstance,
Nay, least premeditation, answer me,
Affect you me, or no?
Pet. How speak you that?
Mont. Without demur or pause.
Pet. Give me but time
To sleep upon 't.
Mont. I pardon you no minute; not so much,
As to apparel the least phrase you speak.
Speak in the shortest sentence.
Pet. You have vanquish'd me,
At mine own weapon: noble sir, I love you:
And what my heart durst never tell my tongue,
Lest it should blab my thoughts, at last I speak,
And iterate; I love you.
Mont. Oh, my happiness!
What wilt thou feel me still? art thou not weary
Of making me thy May-game, to possess me
Of such a treasure's mighty magazine,
Not suffer me to enjoy it; tane with this hand,
With that to give 't another?
Pet. You are sad, Sir;
Be so no more; if you have been dejected,
It lies in me to mount you to that height
You could not aim at greater. I am yours.
These lips, that only witness it in air,
Now with this truth confirm it.
Mont. I was born to 't;
And it shall out at once.
Pet. Sir, you seem passionate;
As if my answer pleas'd not.
Mont, Now my death;
For mine own tongue must kill me: noble Lady,
You have endear'd me to you, but my vow
Was, ne'er to match with any, of what state
Or birth soever, till before the contract
Some one thing I impose her.
Pet. She to do it?
Mont. Or, if she fail me in my first demand, I to abjure her ever,
That beg to be imploy'd so: name a danger,
Whose very face would fright all womanhood,
And manhood put in trance, nay, whose aspect
Would ague such as should but hear it told;
But to the sad beholder, prove like those
That gaz'd upon Medusa's snaky locks,
And turn'd them into marble: these and more,
Should you but speak 't, I'd do.
Mont. And swear to this?
Pet. I vow it by my honour, my best hopes, And all that I wish gracious: name it then, For I am in a longing in my soul,
To shew my love's expression.
Mont. You shall then
Pet. I'll do it, as I am a Virgin : Lie it within mortality, I'll do it. Mont. You shall
Pet. I will: that which appears in you
So terrible to speak, I'll joy to act;
And take pride in performance.
Mont. Then you shall
Pet. What, soldier, what?
Mont. love noble Valladaura;
And at his soonest appointment marry him.
Pet. Then I am lost.-
There lived a Spanish Princess of our name,
An Isabella too, and not long since,
Who from her palace windows stedfastly
Gazing upon the Sun, her hair took fire.
Some augurs held it as a prodigy:
42 A proud Spanish Princess relates this.
I rather think she was Latona's brood,
And that Apollo courted her bright hair;
Else, envying that her tresses put down his,
He scorcht them off in envy: nor dare I
(From her deriv'd) expose me to his beams;
Lest, as he burns the Phoenix in her nest,
Made of the sweetest aromatic wood,
Either in love, or envy, he agree
To use the like combustion upon me.
THE ROYAL KING AND THE LOYAL SUBJECT.
BY THOMAS HEYWOOD.
I read of late, how the great Sophy once
Flying a noble Falcon at the Herne,
In comes by chance an Eagle sousing by:
Which when the Hawk espies, leaves her first game,
And boldly ventures on the King of Birds;
Long tugg'd they in the air, till at the length
The Falcon (better breath'd) seiz'd on the Eagle,
And struck it dead. The Barons prais'd the Bird,
And for her courage she was peerlesss held.
The Emperor, after some deliberate thoughts,
Made her no less; he caus'd a crown of gold
To be new fram'd, and fitted to her head,
In honour of her courage: then the Bird,
With great applause, was to the market place
In triumph borne; where, when her utmost worth
Had been proclaim'd, the common executioner
First by the King's command took off her crown,
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