PHEROAS

Strange interwinding mischiefs, Good my Lord, Let me discharge my duty. Oh my dread Lord, Grant me your gracious pardon; I must tell A sad and heavy Story; yet most true: And yet against such a person, as I fear Your ear will not receive it. Against the Queen. Since your departure, to my hands she brought This fatal Viol; saying, Pheroas, Thou art the Kings Cupbearer; by my love I charge thee, when his Majesty shall call For wine, give him this Potion; 'tis a draught Shall crown thee with great Fortune's: I desired To know the nature; she, with solemn oaths, Swore it was nothing but a wholesome drink, Compounded with such Art; that, tasting it, You would dote of her beauty, and become A very Slave to her perfections: I promised to perform it; yet my fear Arguing with my Judgement, made me try The virtue on a Spaniel; and I found It was and odious poison. After this trial, I demanded then, From whom her Highness had it: she affirmed, From the Lord Joseph; but by stricter search, I found this Jew was he compounded it. Sir, she is dead. Like a Saint. Like did I say? Oh Sir, so far beyond, That never Saint came near her president: She did not go, as one that had been led To take a violent parting; but as Fate Had in her own hands thrust her Destiny, Saying, or live or die: while she, that knew The one and th'others goodness, did agree Only to die as th'act most excellent. Her Mother's bitter railings, all the cries Of the amazed People, moved not her; No not one poor small twinkle of her eye: But, with a constancy, that would outface The brazen front of terror; she assends Up to the fatal Scaffold; and but once Looked round about the people: then lifts up Her snow-white hands to Heaven; Talks to it as if she had been in it: then falls down Upon her humble knees; which, as they bent, You might behold humility retire Down to her heart; and left within her eyes Nothing but sweetness flaming: while upon And round about her, Majesty did hang, And cloth her as a garment: to be brief, She took the stroke, not as a punishment; But a reward; so Saintlike hence she went. Oh oyall Sir, take better comfort; There was never on Earth a Creature worth your sorrow. Oh my Lord. Pardon me, it is become my Master; spacious minds Are not Like little bosoms; they may press And crush disgraces inward; but the great, Gives them full Field to fight in; and each stroke Contempt does strike is mortal. Tell me where; Not upon earth; when reputation's gone, 'Tis not in Kings to bring her back again: I am a banished outcast, and what's more, The scorn of those gaze on me: but a day Will come, of Visitation, when the King May wish these foul deeds undone. Are you there? Nay, then you have God feeling. Oh, 'tis a noble Braggart; two dried frogs, And ounce of Ratsbane, grease and Staues-aker, Are all his ingredients. Leave me, Oh leave me to my self, that I may think Upon the tedious hours I've yet to live. Oh, what a Journey hath that man to Heaven, Whose Conscience is oppressed with injury; Sin, Like so many Pullies hanging by, To draw the Soul still downward: Herod; Oh Herod. Oh Madam, Madam; I am full of Misery's. Patience? there is a worm hath bitten Patience off; And, being entered, sucks my vitals up. Herod, loathed Herod: Oh credulous Pheroas! Nothing now: Was't not a strange thing, that he killed his Wife? Oh, I feel a dagger. Oh Madam, you're deceived; merely decein'd: I have a Conscience tells me otherwise. Oh my leave, torment me not within, Nor raise this strange rebellion: hark, they cry Judgement upon a wretch; that wretch am I. A Hall, a hall; let all the deadly sins Come in and here accuse me: I'll confess, Truth must no longer be obscured: why so; All things are now prepared; the Judge is set, And wrangling Pleaders buzzing in his ears, Makes Babel no confusion. Fear and a guilty Conscience; nay, what's more, See where proud Herod and pale Envy sits; Poor Marriam standing at the Bar of death, And her Accuser I, falsely opposing her. I do confess before the Mercy-seat Of Men and Angels, I slew Marriam; 'Twas I accused her falsely, I subornd, Struck her toth' heart with Slander; but her foes Shall follow after when the H bbub comes And overtakes me downward, down below, In Hell amongst the damned. Pardon me, I dare not, nor I may not; you may guess, Their Characters are easy; for my self, Let mine own shame sleep with me; I confess, Marriam was chased as fair, all good, all virtuous. So are my Joys and comforts: Oh, till now I had clean lost my self; and as a man Left in a Wilderness, finds out no path To carry him to safety; so was I Distract, till this was uttered. Madam, I thank you; and believed for truth, The hurly burly which but late I had Is now appeased; Truth's a brave Secretary. I could not rest before; yet now I feel A calmness overspread me; and my mind, Like a decayed Temple new adorned, Shows, as it never was sullied. Madam, I am; for, with this peace of mind, I find my breath decaying; yet before I take this long last Journey, one thing more I must disclose; then, all is perfitted. Wife, reach me the Viol standing in my Study, Of which I was so careful, and did bind Your self by Oath to look to: go, away; 'Tis a new birth that Villainy would bring forth. Name it no more; open not my wound afresh; Least, in incision, I should bleed to death: I have too much upon me; add to Fire, Not Oil, but Water; Seas will not raise his care, Whose ship lies sanded on the hill Despair. Here's a little Compass; but a mighty found: And in this little Thimble, lies strange Villainy. Madam, it once prepared for the King; And he from me deserved it; not from him That bought it to destroy him: but I'll show Mercy to my Tormenters. If they do; Then thus I will express them: Wife, by all The ties that I can challenge, or entreat By oath, by faith, by love and loyal duty, I bind thee keep this glass till I be dead; But, once departed, spill it on the ground, Where never treads living Creature; and (though urged) Deny thou ever sawest it; yea, though death Be threatened to confess it: this performed, My peace is made with all things. Then Herod do thy worst; I am beyond The reach of all thine envy; peace dwells here; And quiet Slumber sits upon mine eyes: I have no Racks nor Batteries now within, As erst I had when I was troubled: My numbed feet which late so leaden were, I could not stand nor walk; have now such warmth, That I can travel unto Paradise; And, with spread arms, incircle mercy to me: I that accused the Queen, accuse my self, And on her Altar lay my bleeding heart; Where I have found such mercy in my truth, That Marriams self hath God me happy pardon: For which deer Sweet I thank thee: now I come, My life hath run it's Circle, and's come round; Mount Soul to Heaven; sink sins unto the ground.