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Full speech
Lord governor of Lisborne understand, As we are Englishmen, so are we men, And I am Stukley so resolved in all, To follow rule, honour and Empery, Not to be bent so strictly to the place, Wherein at first I blue the fire of life, But that I may at liberty make choice, Of all the continents that bounds the world, For why? I make it not so great desert To be begotten or born in any place, Sith thats a thing of pleasure and of ease, That might have been performed elsewhere as well. Well said Bishop, spoken Like your self, The reverent lordly bishop of saint Asses. Thanks worthy governor, come bishop come Will you show fruits of quarrel and of wrath, Come let us in with my Lord of Lisborne here, And put all conscience into one carouse, Letting it out again, as we may live. There shall no Actium pass my hand or sword, That cannot make a step to gain a crown, No word shall pass the office of my tonge, That sounds not of affection to a crown, No thought have being in my lordly breast, That works not every way to win a crown, Deeds, words and thoughts shall all be as a kings, My chiefest company shall be with kings, And my deserts shall counterpoise a kings, Why should not I then look to be a king? I am the marks how of Ireland made, And will be shortly king of Ireland, King of a molehill had I rather be, Than the richest subject of a monarchy, Huff it brave mind, and never cease aspire, Before thou reign sole king of thy desire Rather my Lord, let me admire these words, Than answer to your firm objections, His holiness Pope Gregory the seventh, Hath made us four the leaders of the rest, Amongst the rest my Lord, I am but one, If they agree Stukley will be the first To die with honour for Sebastian. Saint George for England, and Ireland now adue, For here Tom Stukley shapes his course anue. Lo thus into a lake of blood and gore, The brave courageous king of Portugal Hath drenched himself, and now prepares amain With sails and oars to cross the swelling seas, With men and ships, courage and canon shot, To plant this cursed More in fatal hour, And in this Catholic case the king of Spain Is called upon by sweet Sebastian. Who surfeiting in prime time of his youth, Upon ambitious poison die thereon. By this time is the More to Tangar come, A city longing to the Portugal, And now does Spain promise with holy face, As favouring the honour of the cause, His aid of arms, and levies men apace, But nothing less than king Sebastians good He means, yet at Sucor de Tupea. He met some say in person with the Portugal, And treateth of a marriage with the king, But beware ambitious wiles and poisoned eyes, There was nor aid of arms nor marriage, For on his way without those Spaniards king Seba stian went. Fit fast Sebastian, and in this work God and good men labour for Portugal, For Spain disguising with a double face, Flatters thy youth and forwardness good king, Philip whom some call the catholic king, I fear me much thy faith will not be firm, But disagree with thy profession. Spain hath a vent for them and their supplies, The Spaniard ready to embark himself, Here gathers to a head, but all to sure, Flanders I fear shall feel the force of Spain, Let Portugal fare as he may or can, Spain means to spend no powder on the moors. Brave boy, how plain this princely mind in thee Argues the height and honour of thy birth, And well have I observed thy forwardness, Which being tendered by your majesty, No doubt the quarrel opened by the mouth Of this young prince unpartially to us, May animate and hearten all the host, To fight against the devil for Lord Mahomet. A vant base villains, twit you me with shame Or infamy of this injurious war? When he that is the judge of right and wrong Determines battle as him pleases best. But sith my stars bode me this tragic end That I must perish by these barbarous Moors, Whose weapons have made passage for my soul That breaks from out the prison of my breast, You proud malicious dogs of Italy Strike on, strike down this body to the earth Whose mounting mind stoops to no feeble stroke. Thus Stukley slain with many a deadly stab, Dies in these desert fields of Africa. Hark Friends, and with the story of my life Let me beguile the torment of my death. In England's London Lordings was I born, On that brave Bridge, the bar that thwarts the Thames. My golden days, my younger careless years, Were when I touched the height of Fortune's wheel, And lived in affluence of wealth and ease. Thus in my Country carried long aloft, A discontented humour drove me thence To cross the Seas to Ireland, then to Spain, There had I welcome and right royal pay Of Philip, whom some call the Catholic King, There did Tom Stukley glitter all in gold, Mounted upon his Jennet white as snow, Shining as Phœbus in King Phillips Court, There Like a Lord, famous Done Stukley lived, For so they called me in the Court of Spain Till for a blow I gave a Bishops man, A strife gan rise between his Lord and me, For which, we both were banished by the King. From thence, to Room rides Stukley all a flaunt Received with royal welcomes of the Pope. There was I graced by Gregory the great, That then created me Marquis of Ireland. Short be my tale, because my life is short, The coast of Italy and Room I left. Then was I made Leiftennant General Of those small Forces that for Ireland went, And with my companies embarked at Austria My Sails I spread, and with these men of war In fatal hour at Lishborne we arrived. From thence to this, to this hard exigent Was Stukley driven to fight or else to die, Dared to the field, that never could endure To hear God Mars his drum, but he must march. Ah sweet Sebastian, hadst thou been well advised Thou mightest have managed arms sucsesfully. But from our Cradles we were marked all And destinate to die in Affric here. Stukley, the story of thy life is told, Here breath thy last and bid thy Friends farewell. And if thy Countries kindness be so much, Then let thy Country kindly ring thy knell. Now go, and in that bed of honour die Where brave Sebastians breathless Course does lie. Here endeth Fortune, rule, and bitter rage: Here ends Tom Stukleys pilgrimage. Courageous king, the wonder of my thoughts And yet my Lord, with pardon understand, My self and these, whom weather hath enforced, To lie at road upon thy gracious coast, Did bend our course and made amain for Ireland. For my part Lords, I cannot fell my blood Dearer than in the company of kings.
Plot summary
Plot — The Battle of Alcazar
The law of Barbary provides that the sons of Ml} Mahanietieque shall succeed one another, but the eldest son has arranged to bypass his brothers and pass the kingdom to his own eldest son, MilyMahamet The third son of Xeque, AIBGEIMIEIEE, flees into exile, and, after his father’s death, Muly Mahamet has his own brothers and his eldest uncle murdered to secure his power. Abdelmelec returns to Barbary with military support from the [RG@FKISHINEMIperor, deposes Muly Mahamet, and re-establishes the succession on his own younger brother, Sth Muly Mahamet lives rough, eating the raw flesh of wild animals, and solicits military help from S@bastian of Portugal, offering him the crown of Morocco. Sebastian in turn seeks aid from other princes; SHURE and his allies, delayed in Lisbon on the way to convert Ireland to Catholicism, are also conscripted. Spurred on by a promise of Spanish troops which fail to arrive, Sebastian sets sail for Africa. The two sides prepare their forces and join battle at Alcazar. Abdelmelec dies after initial setbacks, but Seth rallies the troops by displaying the dead body propped ===== PAGE 430 ===== up to look as if alive. As the tide of battle turns, Muly Mahamet procures a horse to flee, but is drowned when the horse throws him in the river. Stukely’s men turn on him, and he dies after telling the audience his life story. Sebastian is also killed in the thick of battle. Seth becomes King of Barbary, and orders Muly Mahamet’s body flayed and stuffed as a warning to potential traitors. B-Text The excision of one scene (@iB) has little substantive effect on the narrative. Obviously there may have been changes in the part of the MS which has not been preserved. In particular, the conclusion may have been amended to tie in with SESESHORNOMPSRUEA! (1284). This must have been a sequel based on the rumours of Sebastian's survival, rather than another retelling of the same stor: both plays were apparently in the Admiral's Men's repertory in the same year. ttis therefore possible that Sebastian was not seen to be dead (or indeed seen not to be dead) at the end of the B-Texi.