Atheist's Tragedie, The - Act 2, Scene 1
Musicke. A banquet. In the night.
Enter D' AMVILLE , B ELFOREST , L EUIDULCIA , R OUSARD , C ASTABELLA , L ANGUEBEAU S NUFFE , at one doore. At the other doore C APAPLASMA and S OQUETIE , usher'd by Fresco .
Leuidulcia.
Mistresse Cataplasma, I expected you an houre since. Cata .
Certaine Ladies at my house, Madame, detain'd mee; otherwise I had attended your Ladiship sooner. Leu .
Wee are beholding to you for your companie. My Lord, I pray you bid these Gentlewomen welcome; they're my inuited friends. D'am .
Gentlewomen, y'are welcome. Pray sit downe. Leu .
Fresco, by my Lord D'amville's leaue I prithee goe into the Buttry. Thou shalt finde some o' my men there. If they bid thee not welcome they are very Loggerheads. Fres .
If your Loggerheads will not, your Hoggesheads shall, Madame, if I get into the Buttry. D'am .
That fellowe's disposition to mirth should be our present example. Let's be graue and meditate when our affaires require our seriousnes. 'Tis out of season to be heauily disposed. Leu .
We should be all wound up into the key of Mirth. D'am .
The Musicke there. Bel .
Where's my Lord Montferrers? Tell him here's a roome attends him. Mont .
Heauen giue your marriage that I am depriu'd of, joy! D'am .
My Lord Belforest, Castabella's health!
[D' AMVILLE drinkes .]
Set ope' the Sellar dores, and let this health
Goe freely round the house. — Another to
Your Sonne, my Lord; to noble Charlemont —
Hee is a Souldier — Let the Instruments
Of warre congratulate his memorie.
Enter a S ERUANI . Ser .
My Lord, here's one, i' th' habite of a Souldier, saies hee is newly return'd from Ostend, and has some businesse of import to speake. D'am .
Ostend! let him come in. My soule fore-tels
Hee brings the newes will make our Musicke full.
My brother's joy would doe't, and here comes hee
Will raise it.
Enter B ORACHIO disguised . Mont .
O my spirit, it does disswade
My tongue to question him, as if it knew
His answere would displease. D'am .
Souldier, what newes?
Wee heard a rumour of a blow you gaue
The Enemie. Bor .
'Tis very true, my Lord. Bel .
Canst thou relate it? Bor .
Yes. D'am .
I Prithee doe. Bor .
The Enemie, defeated of a faire
Aduantage by a flatt'ring strategem,
Plants all th' Artillerie against the Towne;
Whose thunder and lightning made our bulwarkes shake
And threatned in that terrible report
The storme wherewith they meant to second it.
Th'assault was generall. But, for the place
That promis'd most aduantage to be forc'd —
The pride of all their Army was drawne forth
And equally diuided into Front
And Rere. They march'd, and comming to a stand,
Ready to passe our Channell at an ebbe,
W' aduis'd it for our safest course, to draw
Our sluices up and mak't unpassable.
Our Governour oppos'd and suffered them
To charge us home e'en to the Rampier's foot.
But when their front was forcing up our breach
At push o' pike, then did his pollicie.
Let goe the sluices, and trip'd up the heeles
Of the whole bodie of their troupe that stood
Within the violent current of the streame.
Their front, beleaguer'd 'twixt the water and
The Towne, seeing the floud was growne too deepe
To promise them a safe retreate, expos'd
The force of all their spirits, (like the last
Expiring gaspe of a strong harted man)
Upon the hazard of one charge, but were
Oppress'd, and fell. The reste that could not swimme
Were onely drown'd; but those that thought to scape
By swimming, were by murtherers that flank'd
The leuell of the floud, both drown'd and slaine. D'am .
Now, by my soule, Souldier, a braue seruice. Mont .
O what became of my deare Charlemont? Bor .
Walking next day upon the fatall shore,
Among the slaughter'd bodies of their men
Which the full-stomack'd Sea had cast upon
The sands, it was m' unhappy chance to light
Upon a face, whose fauour when it liu'd,
My astonish'd minde inform'd me I had seene.
Hee lay in's Armour, as if that had beene
His Coffine; and the weeping Sea, like one
Whose milder temper doth lament the death
Of him whom in his rage he slew, runnes up
The Shoare, embraces him, kisses his cheeke,
Goes backe againe, and forces up the Sandes
To burie him, and eu'rie time it parts
Sheds teares upon him, till at last (as if
It could no longer endure to see the man
Whom it had slaine, yet loath to leaue him) with
A kinde of unresolu'd unwilling pace,
Winding her waues one in another, like
A man that foldes his armes or wrings his hands
For griefe, ebb'd from the body, and descends
As if it would sinke downe into the earth,
And hide it selfe for shame of such a deede. D'am .
And, Souldier, who was this? Mont .
O Charlemont! Bor .
Your feare hath told you that, whereof my griefe
Was loath to be the messenger. Casta .
O God! D'am .
Charlemont drown'd! Why how could that be, since
It was the aduerse partie that receiued
The ouerthrow? Bor .
His forward spirit press'd into the front,
And being engag'd within the enemie
When they retreated through the rising streame,
I' the violent confusion of the throng
Was ouerborne, and perish'd in the floud
And here's the sad remembrance of his life, — The Scarfe .
Which, for his sake, I will for euer weare. Mont .
Torment me not with witnesses of that
Which I desire not to beleiue, yet must. D'am .
Thou art a Scrichowle and dost come i' th' night
To be the cursed messenger of death.
Away! depart my house or, by my soule,
You'll finde me a more fatall enemie
Then euer was Ostend. Be gone; dispatch! Bor .
Sir, 'twas my loue. D'am .
Your loue to vexe my heart
With that I hate?
Harke, doe you heare, you knaue?
O thou'rt a most delicate, sweete, eloquent villaine! Bor .
Was't not well counterfaited? D'am .
Rarely. [Aside] Be gone. I will not here reply. Bor .
Why then, farewell. I will not trouble you. D'am .
So. The foundation's laid. Now by degrees
The worke will rise and soone be perfected.
O this uncertaine state of mortall man! Bel .
What then? It is th' ineuitable fate
Of all things underneath the Moone. D'am .
'Tis true.
Brother, for health's sake ouercome your griefe. Mont .
I cannot, sir. I am uncapable
Of comfort. My turne will be next. I feele
Myselfe not well. D'am .
You yeeld too much to griefe. Lang .
All men are mortall. The houre of death is uncertaine. Age makes sicknesse the more dangerous, and griefe is subiect to distraction. You know not how soone you may be depriu'd of the benefit of sense. In my understanding, therefore,
You shall doe well if you be sicke to set
Your state in present order. Make your will. D'am .
I haue my wish. Lights for my Brother. Mont .
Ile withdraw a while,
And craue the honest counsell of this man. Bel .
With all my heart. I pray attend him, sir.
Exeunt M ONTFERRERS and S NUFFE .
This next roome, please your Lordship. D'am .
Where you will.
Exeunt B ELFORESI and D' AMVILIE . Leuid .
My Daughter's gone. Come sonne, Mistress Cataplasma, come, wee'll up into her chamber. I'de faine see how she entertaines the expectation of her husband's bedfellowship. Rou .
'Faith, howsoeuer shee entertaines it, I
Shall hardly please her; therefore let her rest. Leuid .
Nay, please her hardly, and you please her best.
Enter D' AMVILLE , B ELFOREST , L EUIDULCIA , R OUSARD , C ASTABELLA , L ANGUEBEAU S NUFFE , at one doore. At the other doore C APAPLASMA and S OQUETIE , usher'd by Fresco .
Leuidulcia.
Mistresse Cataplasma, I expected you an houre since. Cata .
Certaine Ladies at my house, Madame, detain'd mee; otherwise I had attended your Ladiship sooner. Leu .
Wee are beholding to you for your companie. My Lord, I pray you bid these Gentlewomen welcome; they're my inuited friends. D'am .
Gentlewomen, y'are welcome. Pray sit downe. Leu .
Fresco, by my Lord D'amville's leaue I prithee goe into the Buttry. Thou shalt finde some o' my men there. If they bid thee not welcome they are very Loggerheads. Fres .
If your Loggerheads will not, your Hoggesheads shall, Madame, if I get into the Buttry. D'am .
That fellowe's disposition to mirth should be our present example. Let's be graue and meditate when our affaires require our seriousnes. 'Tis out of season to be heauily disposed. Leu .
We should be all wound up into the key of Mirth. D'am .
The Musicke there. Bel .
Where's my Lord Montferrers? Tell him here's a roome attends him. Mont .
Heauen giue your marriage that I am depriu'd of, joy! D'am .
My Lord Belforest, Castabella's health!
[D' AMVILLE drinkes .]
Set ope' the Sellar dores, and let this health
Goe freely round the house. — Another to
Your Sonne, my Lord; to noble Charlemont —
Hee is a Souldier — Let the Instruments
Of warre congratulate his memorie.
Enter a S ERUANI . Ser .
My Lord, here's one, i' th' habite of a Souldier, saies hee is newly return'd from Ostend, and has some businesse of import to speake. D'am .
Ostend! let him come in. My soule fore-tels
Hee brings the newes will make our Musicke full.
My brother's joy would doe't, and here comes hee
Will raise it.
Enter B ORACHIO disguised . Mont .
O my spirit, it does disswade
My tongue to question him, as if it knew
His answere would displease. D'am .
Souldier, what newes?
Wee heard a rumour of a blow you gaue
The Enemie. Bor .
'Tis very true, my Lord. Bel .
Canst thou relate it? Bor .
Yes. D'am .
I Prithee doe. Bor .
The Enemie, defeated of a faire
Aduantage by a flatt'ring strategem,
Plants all th' Artillerie against the Towne;
Whose thunder and lightning made our bulwarkes shake
And threatned in that terrible report
The storme wherewith they meant to second it.
Th'assault was generall. But, for the place
That promis'd most aduantage to be forc'd —
The pride of all their Army was drawne forth
And equally diuided into Front
And Rere. They march'd, and comming to a stand,
Ready to passe our Channell at an ebbe,
W' aduis'd it for our safest course, to draw
Our sluices up and mak't unpassable.
Our Governour oppos'd and suffered them
To charge us home e'en to the Rampier's foot.
But when their front was forcing up our breach
At push o' pike, then did his pollicie.
Let goe the sluices, and trip'd up the heeles
Of the whole bodie of their troupe that stood
Within the violent current of the streame.
Their front, beleaguer'd 'twixt the water and
The Towne, seeing the floud was growne too deepe
To promise them a safe retreate, expos'd
The force of all their spirits, (like the last
Expiring gaspe of a strong harted man)
Upon the hazard of one charge, but were
Oppress'd, and fell. The reste that could not swimme
Were onely drown'd; but those that thought to scape
By swimming, were by murtherers that flank'd
The leuell of the floud, both drown'd and slaine. D'am .
Now, by my soule, Souldier, a braue seruice. Mont .
O what became of my deare Charlemont? Bor .
Walking next day upon the fatall shore,
Among the slaughter'd bodies of their men
Which the full-stomack'd Sea had cast upon
The sands, it was m' unhappy chance to light
Upon a face, whose fauour when it liu'd,
My astonish'd minde inform'd me I had seene.
Hee lay in's Armour, as if that had beene
His Coffine; and the weeping Sea, like one
Whose milder temper doth lament the death
Of him whom in his rage he slew, runnes up
The Shoare, embraces him, kisses his cheeke,
Goes backe againe, and forces up the Sandes
To burie him, and eu'rie time it parts
Sheds teares upon him, till at last (as if
It could no longer endure to see the man
Whom it had slaine, yet loath to leaue him) with
A kinde of unresolu'd unwilling pace,
Winding her waues one in another, like
A man that foldes his armes or wrings his hands
For griefe, ebb'd from the body, and descends
As if it would sinke downe into the earth,
And hide it selfe for shame of such a deede. D'am .
And, Souldier, who was this? Mont .
O Charlemont! Bor .
Your feare hath told you that, whereof my griefe
Was loath to be the messenger. Casta .
O God! D'am .
Charlemont drown'd! Why how could that be, since
It was the aduerse partie that receiued
The ouerthrow? Bor .
His forward spirit press'd into the front,
And being engag'd within the enemie
When they retreated through the rising streame,
I' the violent confusion of the throng
Was ouerborne, and perish'd in the floud
And here's the sad remembrance of his life, — The Scarfe .
Which, for his sake, I will for euer weare. Mont .
Torment me not with witnesses of that
Which I desire not to beleiue, yet must. D'am .
Thou art a Scrichowle and dost come i' th' night
To be the cursed messenger of death.
Away! depart my house or, by my soule,
You'll finde me a more fatall enemie
Then euer was Ostend. Be gone; dispatch! Bor .
Sir, 'twas my loue. D'am .
Your loue to vexe my heart
With that I hate?
Harke, doe you heare, you knaue?
O thou'rt a most delicate, sweete, eloquent villaine! Bor .
Was't not well counterfaited? D'am .
Rarely. [Aside] Be gone. I will not here reply. Bor .
Why then, farewell. I will not trouble you. D'am .
So. The foundation's laid. Now by degrees
The worke will rise and soone be perfected.
O this uncertaine state of mortall man! Bel .
What then? It is th' ineuitable fate
Of all things underneath the Moone. D'am .
'Tis true.
Brother, for health's sake ouercome your griefe. Mont .
I cannot, sir. I am uncapable
Of comfort. My turne will be next. I feele
Myselfe not well. D'am .
You yeeld too much to griefe. Lang .
All men are mortall. The houre of death is uncertaine. Age makes sicknesse the more dangerous, and griefe is subiect to distraction. You know not how soone you may be depriu'd of the benefit of sense. In my understanding, therefore,
You shall doe well if you be sicke to set
Your state in present order. Make your will. D'am .
I haue my wish. Lights for my Brother. Mont .
Ile withdraw a while,
And craue the honest counsell of this man. Bel .
With all my heart. I pray attend him, sir.
Exeunt M ONTFERRERS and S NUFFE .
This next roome, please your Lordship. D'am .
Where you will.
Exeunt B ELFORESI and D' AMVILIE . Leuid .
My Daughter's gone. Come sonne, Mistress Cataplasma, come, wee'll up into her chamber. I'de faine see how she entertaines the expectation of her husband's bedfellowship. Rou .
'Faith, howsoeuer shee entertaines it, I
Shall hardly please her; therefore let her rest. Leuid .
Nay, please her hardly, and you please her best.
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