A Select Collection of Old English Plays Volume Vi Part 31

DUKE.

Good father, tell it me: whatever should befall, Mine be the danger, mine the loss, you shall be pleased for all.

In any case, express it then.

BOMELIO.

Fait', then me will.

If you no have your son be so dumb still.

You mus' get-a de grand enemy dat he now have, And in de tenderest part his dearest blood crave: Derwit' mus' you wash his tongue-a string.

Noting but dat will his speech bring.

DUKE.

The dearest blood in the tenderest part Of his great enemy? O, grief to my heart!

Will nothing else cure his disease?

BOMELIO.

Noting, by my trot'; but do as you please.

DUKE.

My son, my wretched son! and whom dost thou suppose Thy greatest enemy amongst thy father's foes?

It is Hermione: 'tis he, and none but he.

He hath now proved himself, indeed, thy greatest enemy.

Where lives the wretch? That he were ta'en, and we revenged be?

PENULO.

And must his dearest blood, in his tenderest part, Help him in his speech? that's an excellent art.

But what part is that, my masters, now about a man That is the tenderest? guess it, and you can.

I can tell what part a woman thinks tenderest to be, And there is dear blood in it--but _benedicite_.

And do you think, sir, there is none but he, That can be thought his greatest enemy?

I have heard it said, there is no hate Like to a brother or sister's, if they fall at debate.

I will not say, but you may think it as well as I, If you mark since her coming home his sister's cruelty, And the continual rancour she beareth unto him.

BOMELIO.

Is te maid his sister? be Got, den, he say tim.

Bin mine fait' and trot', ser, 'tis true dat he say: His sister be his greatest enemy to-day.

DUKE.

And must I kill my daughter to help my son to speech?

I'll never do it.

PENULO.

See how a doth beseech!-- I would all our daggers were of his quality, They should not brawl with a man, then, so for his money.

BOMELIO.

You kill your daughter! fie, no point so.

Her dearest blood in tenderest part me will show: 'Tis in her paps, her dugs, for der be de tenderest part, And de blood de dearest; it comes from de heart.

So she be p.r.i.c.k'd a little under de breast, And wash his tongue-a, he speak wit' de best.

DUKE.

This thing is somewhat easier, if she consent thereto; If not, I can enforce and make her it to do.

Penulo, despatch, and to my marshal bear This signet for a token that he send her to us here.

PENULO.

I will, my lord.

[_Exit_.

DUKE.

He that hath felt the zeal, the tender love and care: The fear, the grief that parents dear unto their children bear, He may, and only he, conceive mine, inward woe, Distracted thus 'twixt two extremes that hale me to and fro.

Sometime mistrusting that, and then misliking this-- Have parents such a cause of joy, or is it such a bliss To see the offspring of their seed in health before them now?

O, little know they what mishap awaits the death for you.

But, son, my dearest son, recomfort thou thy mind; Fight against fortune and thy fates, when they be most unkind.

And since I understand what may recover thee, Make sure account of it, myself will do it presently.

But, sir, I pray you, lest my daughter should by fear Or fright[118] of it be sore abash'd, be always ready here To stench her wound, when you see good.

BOMELIO.

Awe, awe, she lose but little blood: Two or tree ounces sha' be de very most.

Yonder she come, is no she?

DUKE.

The same is she.

_Enter_ FIDELIA _with_ PENULO.

FIDELIA.

Father, they say you sent for me.

DUKE.

Yea, daughter, I did so; And mark what I shall say to thee, the cause thereof to show.

Thou seest thy brother here?

FIDELIA.

In name, but not in kind.

DUKE.

Well, hold thy peace, I say, and let me tell my mind.

Thy brother here, I say, thou seest him stricken dumb, And, as this learned man declares by magic it is done.

But yet there is a way--one thing--he telleth me, That will restore him to his speech that resteth inwardly; Which, though I might command, yet I intreat to know, Be not so stubborn or unkind thy furtherance to show.

FIDELIA.

n.o.ble father, you cannot say, but hitherto I have Been most obedient to your will in all things that you crave; But herein pardon me, if this I do deny: I never can be made to grant help to mine enemy, My deadly enemy, worse than my mortal foe, And such an one is he to me, for I have found him so; That laboured evermore to cross me with despite, But I am glad I may so well his courtesy requite.

PENULO.

A right woman--either love like an angel, Or hate like a devil--in extremes so to dwell. [_Aside_.

DUKE.

But, daughter, I command, and I thy father, too.

FIDELIA.

And I, your daughter, anything that lawful is to do.

DUKE.