Scene 31 . . . Directory

Scene 32

Alarums and excursions, then sound victory.
Enter Leir, Perillus, King, Cordella, and Mumford.

KING: Thanks be to God, your foes are overcome,
And you again possessed of your right.

LEIR: First to the heavens, next, thanks to you, my son,
By whose good means I repossess the same:
Which if it please you to accept yourself,
With all my heart I will resign to you:
For it is yours by right, and none of mine.
First, have you raised, at your own charge, a power
Of valiant Soldiers; (this comes all from you)
Next have you ventured your own person’s scathe. … [32.10]
And lastly, (worthy Gallia never stained)
My kingly title I by thee have gained.

KING: Thank heavens, not me, my zeal to you is such.
Command my utmost, I will never grutch.

CORDELLA: He that with all kind love entreats his Queen,
Will not be to her father unkind seen.

LEIR: Ah, my Cordella, now I call to mind,
The modest answer, which I took unkind:
But now I see, I am no whit beguiled,
Thou lovedst me dearly, and as ought a child. … [32.20]
And thou (Perillus) partner once in woe,
Thee to requite, the best I can, I’ll do:
Yet all I can, aye, were it ne’re so much,
Were not sufficient, thy true love is such.
Thanks (worthy, Mumford) to thee last of all,
Not greeted last, ’cause thy desert was small;
No, thou hast Lion-like laid on today,
Chasing the Cornwall King and Cambria;
Who with my daughters, daughters did I say?
To save their lives, the fugitives did play. … [32.30]
Come, son and daughter, who did me advance,
Repose with me awhile, and then for France.

Sound drums and Trumpets. Exeunt.

Finis

Scene 30 . . . Directory . . . Scene 32

Scene 31

Sound alarum: excursions.
Mumford must chase Cambria away: then cease. Enter Cornwall.

CORNWALL: The day is lost, our friends do all revolt,
And join against us with the adverse part:
There is no means of safety but by flight,
And therefore I’ll to Cornwall with my Queen.   Exit.

[Enter Cambria.]

CAMBRIA: I think, there is a devil in the Camp hath
haunted me today: he hath so tired me, that in a manner
I can fight no more.    Enter Mumford.
Zounds, here he comes, I’ll take me to my home.

Mumford follows him to the door, and returns.

MUMFORD: Farewell (Welshman) give thee but thy due,
Thou hast a light and nimble pair of legs: … [31.10]
Thou art more in debt to them than to thy hands:
But if I meet thee once again today,
I’ll cut them off, and set them to a better heart.   Exit.

Leir thanks everyone, including the Lord.  Mumford says something silly about meeting naked women instead of armed men. Cordella, Lier, and Perillus wish for strength but pray instead. As the Gallian King is bestirred to further the quest, the villains come in.  Cornwall challenges the king’s right to attack a sovereign state.  The Gallian King claims the right of revenge for Leir wronged by his daughters.  Cambria rejects the claim, and orders the king away.  Mumford promises to hunt him ceaselessly.

Gonorill and Ragan basically call the claims lies, and Cordella shames them.  But Leir has proof, the letters captured from the assassin.  They review the attempt, yell epithets at each other, and then repair to their respective camps for war.

Scene 29 . . . Directory . . . Scene 31

Scene 30

Enter the Gallian King, Leir, Mumford, Cordella, Perillus, and soldiers, with the chief of the town bound.

KING: Fear not, my friends, you shall receive no hurt,
If you’ll subscribe unto your lawful King,
And quite revoke your fealty from Cambria,
And from aspiring Cornwall too, whose wives
Have practiced treason ‘gainst their father’s life.
We come in justice of your wronged King,
And do intend no harm at all to you,
So you submit unto your lawful King.

LEIR: Kind Countrymen, it grieves me, that perforce,
I am constrained to use extremities. … [30.10]

NOBLE: Long have you here been looked-for, good my Lord,
And wished-for by a general consent:
And had we known your Highness had arrived,
We had not made resistance to your Grace:
And now, my gracious Lord, you need not doubt,
But all the Country will yield presently,
Which since your absence have him greatly taxed,
For to maintain their over-swelling pride.
We’ll presently send word to all our friends;
When they have notice, they will come apace. … [30.20]

LEIR: Thanks, loving subjects; and thanks, worthy son,
Thanks, my kind daughter, thanks to you, my Lord,
Who willingly adventured have your blood,
(Without desert) to do me so much good.

MUMFORD: O, say no so:
I have been much beholding to your Grace:
I must confess, I have been in some skirmishes,
But I was never in the like to this:
For where I was wont to meet with armed men,
I was now encountered with naked women. … [30.30]

CORDELLA: We that are feeble, and want use of Arms,
Will pray to God, to shield you from all harms.
LEIR: The while your hands do manage ceaseless toil,
Our hearts shall pray, the foes may have the foil.

PERILLUS: We’ll fast and pray, whilst you for us do fight,
That victory may prosecute the right.

KING: Me thinks, your words do amplify (my friends)
And add fresh vigor to my willing limbs: [Drum.]
But hark, I hear the adverse Drum approach.
God and our right, Saint Denis, and Saint George. … [30.40]

Enter Cornwall, Cambria, Gonorill, Ragan, and the army.

CORNWALL: Presumptuous King of Gauls, how darest thou
Presume to enter on our British shore?
And more than that, to take our towns perforce,
And draw our subjects’ hearts from their true King?
Be sure to buy it at as dear a price,
As ere you bought presumption in your lives.

KING: O’er-daring Cornwall, know, we came in right,
And just revengement of the wronged King,
Whose daughters there, fell vipers as they are,
Have sought to murder and deprive of life: … [30.50]
But God protected him from all their spite,
And we are come in justice of his right.

CAMBRIA: Nor he nor thou have any interest here,
But what you win and purchase with the sword.
Thy slanders to our noble virtuous Queenes,
We’ll in the battle thrust them down thy throat,
Except for fear of our revenging hands,
Thou fly to sea, as not secure on lands.

MUMFORD: Welshman, I’ll so ferret you ere night for that word,
That you shall have no mind to crake so well this twelve-month. … [30.60]

GONORILL: They lie, that say, we sought our father’s death.

RAGAN: Tis merely forged for a color’s sake,
To set a gloss on your invasion.
Me thinks, an old man ready for to die,
Should be ashamed to broach so foul a lie.

CORDELLA: Fie, shameless sister, so devoid of grace,
To call our father liar to his face.

GONORILL: Peace (Puritan) dissembling hypocrite,
Which art so good, that thou wilt prove stark naught:
Anon, when as I have you in my fingers, … [30.70]
I’ll make you wish yourself in Purgatory.

PERILLUS: Nay, peace thou monster, shame unto thy sex:
Thou fiend in likeness of a human creature.

RAGAN: I never heard a fouler-spoken man.

LEIR: Out on thee, viper, scum, filthy parricide,
More odious to my sight than is a Toad.
Knowest thou these letters? She snatches them & tears them.

RAGAN: Think you to outface me with your paltry scrolls?
You come to drive my husband from his right,
Under the color of a forged letter. … [30.80]

LEIR: Who ever heard the like impiety?

PERILLUS: You are our debtor of more patience:
We were more patient when we stayed for you,
Within the thicket two long hours and more.

RAGAN: What hours? what thicket?

PERILLUS: There, where you sent your servant with your letters,
Sealed with your hand, to send us both to heaven,
Where, as I think, you never mean to come.

RAGAN: Alas, you are grown a child again with age,
Or else your senses dote for want of sleep. … [30.90]

PERILLUS: Indeed you made us rise betimes, you know,
Yet had a care we should sleep where you bade us stay,
But never wake more till the latter day.

GONORILL: Peace, peace, old fellow, thou art sleepy still.

MUMFORD: Faith, and if you reason till to morrow,
You get no other answer at their hands.
Tis pity two such good faces
Should have so little grace between them.
Well let us see if their husbands with their hands,
Can do as much, as they do with their tongues. … [30.100]

CAMBRIA: Aye, with their swords they’ll make your tongue unsay
What they have said, or else they’ll cut them out.

KING: To’t, gallants, to’t, let’s not stand brawling thus.

Exeunt both armies.

Scene 28 . . . Directory . . . Scene 30

Scene 29

Alarum, with men and women half naked:
Enter two Captains without doublets, with swords.

1 CAP: Where are these villains that were set to watch,
And fire the Beacon, if occasion served,
That thus have suffered us to be surprised,
And never given notice to the town?
We are betrayed, and quite devoid of hope,
By any means to fortify ourselves.

2 CAP: Tis ten to one the peasants are o’ercome with
drink and sleep, and so neglect their charge.

1 CAP: A whirlwind carry them quick to a whirlpool,
That there the slaves may drink their bellies full. … [29.10]

2 CAP: This tis, to have the Beacon so near the Ale-house.

Enter the watchmen drunk, with each a pot.

1 CAP: Out on ye, villains, whither run you now?

1 WATCH: To fire the town, and call up the Beacon.

2 WATCH: No, no, sir, to fire the Beacon.   He drinks.

2 CAP: What, with a pot of ale, you drunken Rogues?

1 CAP: You’ll fire the Beacon, when the town is lost:
I’ll teach you how to tend your office better.   Draw to stab them.

Enter Mumford, Captains run away.

MUMFORD: Yield, yield, yield.  He kicks down their pots.

1 WATCH: Reel? no, we do not reel:
You may lack a pot of Ale ere you dye. … [29.20]

MUMFORD: But in mean space, I answer, you want none.
Well, there’s no dealing with you, y’are tall men, & well-weaponed,
I would there were no worse than you in the town.   Exit.

2 WATCH: A speaks like an honest man; my cholers past already.
Come, neighbor, let’s go.

1 WATCH: Nay, first let’s see and we can stand.   Exeunt.

Alarum, excursions, Mumford after them, and some half naked.

Scene 27 . . . Directory . . . Scene 29

Scene 28

Enter the King of Gallia with a still march, Mumford & soldiers.

KING: Now march our ensigns on the British earth,
And we are near approaching to the town:
Then look about you, valiant Countrymen,
And we shall finish this exploit with ease.
Th’inhabitants of this mistrustful place,
Are dead asleep, as men that are secure:
Here shall we skirmish but with naked men,
Devoid of sense, new-waked from a dream,
That know not what our coming doth pretend,
Till they do feel our meaning on their skins: … [28.10]
Therefore assail: God and our right for us.    Exeunt.

Scene 26 . . . Directory . . . Scene 28

Scene 27

Enter a Captain of the watch, and two watchmen.

CAPTAIN: My honest friends, it is your turn tonight,
To watch in this place, near about the Beacon,
And vigilantly have regard,
If any fleet of ships pass hitherward:
Which if you do, your office is to fire
The Beacon presently, and raise the town.   Exit.

1 WATCH: Aye, aye, aye, fear nothing; we know our charge, I
warrant: I have been a watchman about this Beacon this xxx
year, and yet I ne’re see it stir, but stood as quietly as might be.

2 WATCH: Faith neighbor, and you’ll follow my vice, … [27.10]
instead of watching the Beacon, we’ll go to goodman
Gennings, & watch a pot of Ale and a rasher of Bacon: and
if we do not drink ourselves drunk, then so; I warrant, the
Beacon will see us when we come out again.

1 WATCH: Aye, but how if somebody excuse us to the Captain?

2 WATCH: Tis no matter, I’ll prove by good reason that we
watch the Beacon: ass for example.

1 WATCH: I hope you do not call me ass by craft, neighbor.

2 WATCH: No, no, but for example: Say here stands the pot
of ale, that’s the Beacon.

1 WATCH: ~~~ Aye, Aye, tis a very good Beacon. … [27.20]

2 WATCH: Well, say here stands your nose, that’s the fire.

1 WATCH: Indeed I must confess, tis somewhat red.

2 WATCH: I see come marching in a dish, half a score pieces
of salt Bacon.

1 WATCH: ~~~ I understand your meaning, that’s
as much to say, half a score ships.

2 WATCH: ~~~ True, you conster
right; presently, like a faithful watchman, I fire the
Beacon, and call up the town.

1 WATCH: Aye, that’s as much as to say, you set your nose to
the pot, and drink up the drink.

2 WATCH: ~~~ You are in the right;
come, let’s go fire the Beacon.    Exeunt. … [27.30]

Scene 25 . . . Directory . . . Scene 27

Scene 26

Sound Drums & Trumpets: Enter the Gallian King, Leir, Mumford and the army.

KING: Thus have we brought our army to the sea,
Whereas our ships are ready to receive us:
The wind stands fair, and we in four hours sail
May easily arrive on British shore,
Where unexpected we may them surprise,
And gain a glorious victory with ease.
Wherefore, my loving Countrymen, resolve,
Since truth and justice fighteth on our sides,
That we shall march with conquest where we go.
Myself will be as forward as the first, … [26.10]
And step-by-step march with the hardiest wight:
And not the meanest soldier in our Camp
Shall be in danger, but I’ll second him.
To you, my Lord, we give the whole command
Of all the army, next unto ourself,
Not doubting of you, but you will extend
Your wonted valor in this needful case,
Encouraging the rest to do the like,
By your approved magnanimity.

MUMFORD: My Liege, tis needless to spur a willing horse, … [26.20]
That’s apt enough to run himself to death:
For here I swear by that sweet Saint’s bright eye,
Which are the stars, which guide me to good hap,
Either to see my old Lord crowned anew,
Or in his cause to bid the world adieu.

LEIR: Thanks, good Lord Mumford, tis more of your good will,
Than any merit or desert in me.

MUMFORD: And now to you, my worthy Countrymen,
Ye valiant race of Genovestan Gauls,
Surnamed Red-shanks, for your chivalry, … [26.30]
Because you fight up to the shanks in blood;
Show yourselves now to be right Gauls indeed,
And be so bitter on your enemies,
That they may say, you are as bitter as Gall.
Gall them, brave Shot, with your Artillery:
Gall them, brave Halberds, with your sharp-point Bills,
Each in their pointed place, not one, but all,
Fight for the credit of yourselves and Gaul.

KING: Then what should more persuasion need to those,
That rather wish to deal, than hear of blows? … [26.40]
Let’s to our ships, and if that God permit,
In four hours’ sail, I hope we shall be there.

MUMFORD: And in five hours more, I make no doubt,
But we shall bring our wished desires about.     Exeunt.

Scene 24 . . . Directory . . . Scene 26

Scene 25

Enter Ragan sola.

RAGAN: I feel a hell of conscience in my breast,
Tormenting me with horror for my fact,
And makes me in an agony of doubt,
For fear the world should find my dealing out.
The slave whom I appointed for the act,
I ne’re set eye upon the peasant since:
O, could I get him for to make him sure,
My doubts would cease, and I should rest secure.
But if the old men, with persuasive words,
Have saved their lives, and made him to relent; … [25.10]
Then are they fled unto the Court of France,
And like a Trumpet manifest my shame.
A shame on these white-livered slaves, say I,
That with fair words so soon are overcome.
O God, that I had been but made a man;
Or that my strength were equal with my will!
These foolish men are nothing but mere pity,
And melt as butter doth against the Sun.
Why should they have preeminence over us,
Since we are creatures of more brave resolve? … [25.20]
I swear, I am quite out of charity
With all the heartless men in Christendom.
A pox upon them, when they are afraid
To give a stab, or slit a paltry Windpipe,
Which are so easy matters to be done.
Well, had I thought the slave would serve me so,
Myself would have been executioner:
Tis now undone, and if that it be known,
I’ll make as good shift as I can for one.
He that repines at me, how ere it stands, … [25.30]
‘Twere best for him to keep him from my hands.   Exit.

Cordella begins to recognize Leir’s voice.  Leir then reviews his transgressions, forgives his mistreatment by his daughters, but then turns on himself over his mistreatment of Cordella.  She can hardly believe her ears, but the Gallian King asks her not to disclose her identity until they know more.  Perillus sees a banquet ahead, and people, and appeals to them for some sustenance, in God’s name.  Cordella invites them to sit and eat.  They thank God and eat hungrily.

The Gallian King still urges Cordella not to disclose their identities, this time on grounds that Leir should regain strength before the shock.  Refreshed, Perillus proffers his doublet, but it is not taken.  Cordella and Leir then talk, he still not recognizing her, but thinking her like his daughter, one he has forsaken.  She denies it, begins to weep, but urges him to tell the story of the other two.  He does, through the attempted assassination.  He then confesses that he must seek relief from whom he abused so badly, whose help he surely does not deserve.

She pretends to have the same story, and she forgave her father.  She then reveals herself, on her knees to him.  In a potentially comical sequence, he kneels while asking her to stand; she does.  He then at her request rises, but then kneels again until pardoned.   He is pardoned.  They exchange obligations of the past, he rises, and she kneels for his pardon, he blesses her in God’s name, and she finally stands.

Now the Gallian King kneels, and pledges revenge.  He rises, but then Mumford kneels, pledging to return from Britain with a wench.

Scene 23 . . . Directory . . . Scene 25

Scene 24

Enter the Gallian King and Queen, and Mumford,
with a basket, disguised like Country folk.

KING: This tedious journey all on foot, sweet Love,
Cannot be pleasing to your tender joints,
Which ne’re were used to these toilsome walks.

CORDELLA: I never in my life took more delight
In any journey, than I do in this:
It did me good, when as we happed to light
Amongst the merry crew of country folk,
To see what industry and pains they took,
To win them commendations ‘mongst their friends.
Lord, how they labor to bestir themselves, … [24.10]
And in their quirks to go beyond the Moon,
And so take on them with such antic fits,
That one would think they were beside their wits!
Come away, Roger, with your basket.

MUMFORD: Soft, Dame, here comes a couple of old youths,
I must needs make myself fat with jesting at them.
[Enter Leir & Perillus very faintly.]

CORDELLA: Nay, prithy do not, they do seem to be
Men much o’ergone with grief and misery.
Let’s stand aside, and hearken what they say.

LEIR: Ah, my Perillus, now I see we both … [24.20]
Shall end our days in this unfruitful soil.
Oh, I do faint for want of sustenance:
And thou, I know, in little better case.
No gentle tree affords one taste of fruit,
To comfort us, until we meet with men:
No lucky path conducts our luckless steps
Unto a place where any comfort dwells.
Sweet rest betide unto our happy souls;
For here I see our bodies must have end.

PERILLUS: Ah, my dear Lord, how doth my heart lament, … [24.30]
To see you brought to this extremity!
O, if you love me, as you do profess,
Or ever thought well of me in my life,    He strips up his arms.
Feed on this flesh, whose veins are not so dry,
But there is virtue left to comfort you.
O, feed on this, if this will do you good,
I’ll smile for joy, to see you suck my blood.

LEIR: I am no Cannibal, that I should delight
To slake my hungry jaws with human flesh:
I am no devil, or ten times worse than so, … [24.40]
To suck the blood of such a peerless friend.
O, do not think that I respect my life
So dearly, as I do thy loyal love.
Ah, Britain, I shall never see thee more,
That hast unkindly banished thy King:
And yet thou dost not make me to complain,
But they which were more near to me than thou.

CORDELLA: What do I hear? this lamentable voice,
Me thinks, ere now I often times have heard.

LEIR: Ah, Gonorill, was half my Kingdom’s gift … [24.50]
The cause that thou didst seek to have my life?
Ah, cruel Ragan, did I give thee all,
And all could not suffice without my blood?
Ah, poor Cordella, did I give thee nought,
Nor never shall be able for to give?
O, let me warn all ages that ensueth,
How they trust flattery, and reject the trueth.
Well, unkind Girls, I here forgive you both,
Yet the just heavens will hardly do the like;
And only crave forgiveness at the end … [24.60]
Of good Cordella, and of thee, my friend;
Of God, whose Majesty I have offended,
By my transgression many thousand ways:
Of her, dear heart, whom I for no occasion
Turned out of all, through flatterers persuasion:
Of thee, kind friend, who but for me, I know,
Hadst never come unto this place of woe.

CORDELLA: Alack, that ever I should live to see
My noble father in this misery.

KING: Sweet Love, reveal not what thou art as yet, … [24.70]
Until we know the ground of all this ill.

CORDELLA: O, but some meat, some meat: do you not see,
How near they are to death for want of food?

PERILLUS: Lord, which didst help thy servants at their need,
Or now or never send us help with speed.
Oh comfort, comfort! yonder is a banquet,
And men and women, my Lord: be of good cheer:
For I see comfort coming very near.
O my Lord, a banquet, and men and women!

LEIR: O, let kind pity mollify their hearts, … [24.80]
That they may help us in our great extremes.

PERILLUS: God save your, friends; & if this blessed banquet
Affordeth any food or sustenance,
Even for his sake that saved us all from death,
Vouchsafe to save us from the gripe of famine.

She bringeth him to the table.

CORDELLA: Here father, sit and eat, here, sit & drink:
And would it were far better for your sakes.
[Perillus takes Leir by the hand to the table.]

PERILLUS: I’ll give you thanks anon: my friend doth faint,
And needeth present comfort.    Leir drinks.

MUMFORD: I warrant, he ne’re stays to say grace: … [24.90]
O, there’s no sauce to a good stomach.

PERILLUS: The blessed God of heaven hath thought upon us.

LEIR: The thanks be his, and these kind courteous folk,
By whose humanity we are preserved.

They eat hungerly, Leir drinks.

CORDELLA: And may that draught be unto him, as was
That which old Aeson drank, which did renew
His withered age, and made him young again.
And may that meat be unto him, as was
That which Elias ate, in strength whereof
He walked forty days, and never fainted. … [24.100]
Shall I conceal me longer from my father?
Or shall I manifest myself to him?

KING: Forbear a while, until his strength return,
Lest being overjoyed with seeing thee,
His poor weak senses should forsake their office,
And so our cause of joy be turned to sorrow.

PERILLUS: What cheer, my Lord? how do you feel yourself?

LEIR: Methinks, I never saw such savory meat:
It is as pleasant as the blessed Manna,
That rained from heaven amongst the Israelites: … [24.110]
It hath recalled my spirits home again,
And made me fresh, as erst I was before.
But how shall we congratulate their kindness?

PERILLUS: In faith, I know not how sufficiently;
But the best mean that I can think on, is this:
I’ll offer them my doublet in requital;
For we have nothing else to spare.

LEIR: Nay, stay, Perillus, for they shall have mine.

PERILLUS: Pardon, my Lord, I swear they shall have mine.

Perillus proffers his doublet: they will not take it.

LEIR: Ah, who would think such kindness should remain … [24.120]
Among such strange and unacquainted men:
And that such hate should harbor in the breast
Of those, which have occasion to be best?

CORDELLA: Ah, good old father, tell to me thy grief,
I’ll sorrow with thee, if not add relief.

LEIR: Ah, good young daughter, I may call thee so,
For thou art like a daughter I did owe.

CORDELLA: Do you not owe her still? what, is she dead?

LEIR: No, God forbid: but all my interest’s gone,
By showing myself too much unnatural: … [24.130]
So have I lost the title of a father,
And may be called a stranger to her rather.

CORDELLA: Your title’s good still: for tis always known,
A man may do as him list with his own.
But have you but one daughter then in all?

LEIR: Yes, I have more by two, than would I had.

CORDELLA: O, say not so, but rather see the end:
They that are bad, may have the grace to mend:
But how have they offended you so much?

LEIR: If from the first, I should relate the cause, … [24.140]
‘Twould make a heart of Adamant to weep;
And thou, poor soul, kind-hearted as thou art,
Dost weep already, ere I do begin.

CORDELLA: For God’s love tell it, and when you have done,
I’ll tell the reason why I weep so soon.

LEIR: Then know this first, I am a Britain born,
And had three daughters by one loving wife:
And though I say it, of beauty they were sped;
Especially the youngest of the three,
For her perfections hardly matched could be: … [24.150]
On these I doted with a jealous love,
And thought to try which of them loved me best,
By asking them, which would do most for me?
The first and second flattered me with words,
And vowed they loved me better than their lives:
The youngest said, she loved me as a child
Might do: her answer I esteemed most vild,
And presently in an outrageous mood,
I turned her from me to go sink or swim:
And all I had, even to the very clothes, … [24.160]
I gave in dowry with the other two:
And she that best deserved the greatest share,
I gave her nothing, but disgrace and care.
Now mark the sequel: When I had done thus,
I sojourned in my eldest daughter’s house,
Where for a time I was entreated well,
And lived in state sufficing my content:
But every day her kindness did grow cold,
Which I with patience put up well enough,
And seemed not to see the things I saw: … [24.170]
But at the last she grew so far incensed
With moody fury, and with causeless hate,
That in most vild and contumelious terms,
She bade me pack, and harbor somewhere else.
Then was I fain for refuge to repair
Unto my other daughter for relief,
Who gave me pleasing and most courteous words;
But in her actions showed herself so sore,
As never any daughter did before:
She prayed me in a morning out betime, … [24.180]
To go to a thicket two miles from the Court,
Pointing that there she would come talk with me:
There she had set a shag-haired murd’ring wretch,
To massacre my honest friend and me.
Then judge yourself, although my tale be brief,
If ever may had greater cause of grief.

KING: Nor never like impiety was done,
Since the creation of the world begun.

LEIR: And now I am constrained to seek relief
Of her, to whom I have been so unkind; … [24.190]
Whose censure, if it do award me death,
I must confess she pays me but my due:
But if she show a loving daughter’s part,
It comes of God and her, not my desert.

CORDELLA: No doubt she will, I dare be sworn she will.

LEIR: How know you that, not knowing what she is?

CORDELLA: Myself a father have a great way hence,
Used me as ill as ever you did her;
Yet, that his reverend age I once might see,
I’d creep along, to meet him on my knee. … [24.200]

LEIR: O, no men’s children are unkind but mine.

CORDELLA: Condemn not all, because of other’s crime:
But look, dear father, look behold and see
Thy loving daughter speaketh unto thee.   She kneels.

LEIR: O, stand thou up, it is my part to kneel,
And ask forgiveness for my former faults.    He kneels.

CORDELLA: O, if you wish, I should enjoy my breath,
Dear father rise, or I receive my death.    He riseth.

LEIR: Then I will rise to satisfy your mind,
But kneel again, til pardon be resigned.    He kneels. … [24.210]

CORDELLA: I pardon you: the word beseems not me:
But I do say so, for to ease your knee.
You gave me life, you were the cause that I
Am what I am, who else had never been.

LEIR: But you gave life to me and to my friend,
Whose days had else had an untimely end.

CORDELLA: You brought me up, when as I was but young,
And far unable for to help myself.

LEIR: I cast thee forth, when as thou wast but young,
And far unable for to help thyself. … [24.220]

CORDELLA: God, world and nature say I do you wrong,
That can endure to see you kneel so long.

PERILLUS: Let me break off this loving controversy,
Which doth rejoice my very soul to see.
Good father, rise, she is your loving daughter,   He riseth.
And honors you with as respective duty,
As if you were the Monarch of the world.

CORDELLA: But I will never rise from off my knee,    She kneels.
Until I have your blessing, and your pardon
Of all my faults committed any way … [24.230]
From my first birth unto this present day.

LEIR: The blessing, which the God of Abraham gave
Unto the tribe of Juda, light on thee,
And multiply thy days, that thou mayst see
Thy children’s children prosper after thee.
Thy faults, which are just none that I do know,
God pardon on high, and I forgive below.    She riseth.

CORDELLA: Now is my heart at quiet, and doth leap
Within my breast, for joy of this good hap:
And now (dear father) welcome to our Court, … [24.240]
And welcome (kind Perillus) unto me,
Mirror of virtue and true honesty.

LEIR: O, he hath been the kindest friend to me,
That ever man had in adversity.

PERILLUS: My tongue doth fail, to say what heart doth think,
I am so ravished with exceeding joy.

KING: All you have spoke: now let me speak my mind,
And in few words much matter here conclude:  He kneels.
If ere my heart do harbor any joy,
Or true content repose within my breast, … [24.250]
Till I have rooted out this viperous sect,
And repossessed my father of his crown,
Let me be counted for the perjurdst man,
That ever spake word since the world began.  Rise.

MUMFORD: Let me pray too, that never prayed before;    Mumford kneels.
If ere I resalute the British earth,
(As (ere’t be long) I do presume I shall)
And do return from thence without my wench,
Let me be gelded for my recompense.   Rise.

KING: Come, let’s to arms for to redress this wrong: … [24.260]
Till I am there, me thinks, the time seems long.   Exeunt.

The mariners will not rescind the bargain, and hurry off before the pair asks for their clothes back.  Leir realizes they may be safer traveling in disguise.  Leir then gives a poetic catalog of his sins, which Perillus turns to good account, item by item.  Leir rebukes his oration, but Perillus gives the Christian argument that death is preferable to despair (the turning away from God).  Leir yields to his stronger sentiments, and ends with “come, let us go, and see what God will send; when all means fail, he is the surest friend.”

Scene 22 . . . Directory . . . Scene 24

Scene 23

Enter Leir, Perillus, and two Mariners, in sea-gowns and sea-caps.

PERILLUS: My honest friends, we are ashamed to show
The great extremity of our present state,
In that at this time we are brought so low,
That we want money for to pay our passage.
The truth is so, we met with some good fellows,
A little before we came aboard your ship,
Which stripped us quite of all the coin we had,
And left us not a penny in our purses:
Yet wanting money, we will use the mean,
To see you satisfied to the uttermost.   Look on Lear. … [23.10]

1 MAR: Here’s a good gown, ‘twould become me passing well,
I should be fine in it.   Look on Perillus.

2 MAR: Here’s a good cloak, I marvel how I should look in it.
LEIR: Faith, had we others to supply their room,
Though ne’er so mean, you willingly should have them.

1 MAR: Do you hear, sir? you look like an honest man;
I’ll not stand to do you a pleasure: here’s a good strong motley
gabardine, cost me xiiii. good shillings at Billingsgate; give
me your gown for it, & your cap for mine, & I’ll forgive
your passage. … [23.20]

LEIR: With all my heart, and xx. thanks.   Leir & he changeth.

2 MAR: Do you hear, sir? you shall have a better match
than he, because you are my friend: here is a good sheeps
russet sea-gown, will bide more stress, I warrant you,
than two of his, yet for you seem to be an honest gentleman,
I am content to change it for your cloak, and ask you
nothing for your passage more.   Pull off Perillus cloak.

PERILLUS: My own I willingly would change with thee,
And think myself indebted to thy kindness:
But would my friend might keep his garment still. … [23.30]
My friend, I’ll give thee this new doublet, if thou wilt
Restore his gown unto him him back again.

1 MAR: Nay, if I do, would I might ne’re eat powdered
beef and mustard more, nor drink Can of good liquor whilst
I live. My friend, you have small reason to seek to hinder me
of my bargain: but the best is, a bargain’s a bargain.

LEIR: Kind friend, it is much better as it is;   Leir to Perillus.
For by this means we may escape unknown,
Til time and opportunity do fit.

2 MAR: Hark, hark, they are laying their heads together, … [23.40]
They’ll repent them of their bargain anon,
‘Twere best for us to go while we are well.

1 MAR: God be with you, sir, for your passage back again,
I’ll use you as unreasonable as another.

LEIR: I know thou wilt; but we hope to bring ready money
With us, when we come back again.   Exeunt Mariners.
Were ever men in this extremity,
In a strange country, and devoid of friends,
And not a penny for to help ourselves?
Kind friend, what thinkst thou will become of us? … [23.50]

PERILLUS: Be of good cheer, my Lord, I have a doublet,
Will yield us money enough to serve our turns,
Until we come unto your daughter’s Court:
And then, I hope, we shall find friends enough.

LEIR: Ah, kind Perillus, that is it I fear,
And makes me faint, or ever I come there.
Can kindness spring out of ingratitude?
Or love be reaped, where hatred hath been sown?
Can Henbane join in league with Mithridate?
Or Sugar grow in Wormwood’s bitter stalk? … [23.60]
It cannot be, they are too opposite:
And so am I to any kindness here.
I have thrown Wormwood on the sugared youth,
And like to Henbane poisoned the Fount,
Whence flowed the Mithridate of a child’s good will:
I, like an envious thorn, have pricked the heart,
And turned sweet Grapes, to sour unrelished Sloes:
The causeless ire of my respectless breast,
Hath soured the sweet milk of dame Nature’s paps:
My bitter words have galled her honey thoughts, … [23.70]
And weeds of rancor choked the flower of grace.
Then what remainder is of any hope,
But all our fortunes will go quite aslope?

PERILLUS: Fear not, my Lord, the perfect good indeed,
Can never be corrupted by the bad:
A new fresh vessel still retains the taste
Of that which first is poured into the same:
And therefore, though you name yourself the thorn,
The weed, the gall, the henbane & the wormwood;
Yet she’ll continue in her former state, … [23.80]
The honey milk, Grape, Sugar, Mithridate.

LEIR: Thou pleasing Orator unto me in woe,
Cease to beguile me with thy hopeful speeches:
O join with me, and think of nought but crosses,
And then we’ll one lament another’s losses.

PERILLUS: Why, say the worst, the worst can be but death,
And death is better than for to despair:
Then hazard death, which may convert to life;
Banish despair, which brings a thousand deaths.

LEIR: Orecome with thy strong arguments, I yield, … [23.90]
To be directed by thee, as thou wilt:
As thou yieldst comfort to my crazed thoughts,
Would I could yield the like unto thy body,
Which is full weak, I know, and ill-apaid
For want of fresh meat and due sustenance.

PERILLUS: Alack, my Lord, my heart doth bleed, to think
That you should be in such extremity.

LEIR: Come, let us go, and see what God will send;
When all means fail, he is the surest friend.   Exeunt.