[_Exit._
ACT II., SCENE 1.
_Enter_ PLANGUS, NICETES, ARAMNES.
NIC. What, sir, and are you melancholy, when fate Hath shower'd a happiness so unexpected on us?
This ugly, sneaking peace is the soldier's rock He splits his fortunes on. Bawdry's a virtue to't.
Pox o' these beaver hats, they make one's headache Worse than a cap of steel: and bear not off a knock The tenth part so well.
PLAN. You're mad for fighting, gentlemen, And we shall have enough of it.
The Argives, fifty thousand strong, Have like a whirlwind borne down all before 'em; And I, with thirteen thousand, that remain Undisbanded of the last expedition, Have command to fight that multitude Of old tough soldiers: while ours, In a month or two, won't have pick'd up that valour That in this idle time hath slipp'd from them.
They have forgot what noise a musket makes; And start if they but hear a drum.
Are these fellows either enow, or fit, On whom a kingdom's safety should be built?
Indeed, were they to encounter some mistress, Or storm a brothel-house, perhaps they'd venture; But for my part I yield; nor would I oppose my father: If he sees good we perish, I am already Sacrific'd; yet our enemies shall dearly purchase Their victory. Pray look to your charge, Nicetes, And you, Aramnes, with all care and speed; and when You come into the field, then let me see This countenance, that frowning smile, and I Shall like it: I love a man runs laughing Upon death. But we lose time in talk.
[_Exeunt_ NICETES _and_ ARAMNES.
SCENE II.
_Enter_ INOPHILUS.
INO. Your servant, captains. Sir, pray a word with you.
PLAN. Prythee, be short, Inophilus; thou know'st My business.
INO. Sir, I am mad to see your tameness: A man bound up by magic is not so still as you; Nothing was ever precipitated thus, And yet refus'd to see its ruin.
PLAN. Thou art tedious, I shall not tarry.
INO. You are made general.
PLAN. I know it.
INO. Against the Argives.
PLAN. So.
INO. With thirteen thousand men, no more, sir.
PLAN. I am glad on't, the honour is the greater.
INO. The danger is the greater; you will be kill'd, sir, And lose your army.
PLAN. Is this all? I care not.
INO. But so do I, and so do all your friends.
I smell a rat, sir; there's juggling in this business; I am as confident of it as I am alive.
The king might within this twenty-four hours Have made a peace on fair conditions.
PLAN. But dishonourable.
INO. And would not-- On a sudden useth the ambassadors scurvily, And provokes the Argives, yet himself In no posture of defence.
PLAN. But----
INO. Pray give me leave, sir.
After this, you are on a sudden created general, And pack'd away with a crowd of unhewn fellows, Whose courage hangs as loose about them As a slut's petticoats. Sir, he had other spirits In the court created for such perils.
Excuse me, I know you fear not to meet destruction; But where men are sure to perish, 'Twere well the persons were of less concernment.
He might have let you stay'd till you had gather'd An army fit for your command, and sent Some petty things upon this expedition Whose loss would have been nothing, and of whom It might have been recorded in our story As an honour, that they died monuments Of the king's folly. But let that pass; You'll say perhaps, you only have a spirit Fit for such undertakings? I wish you had not; Your want then would not be half so grievous.
But here is the prodigy! you must fight them presently.
Come, 'tis a project put into the king's head By some who have a plot on you and him.
PLAN. It may be so, Inophilus, and I believe All this is true you tell me, and 't might startle A man were less resolv'd than I.
But danger and I have been too long acquainted To shun a meeting now; I am engaged, and Cannot any ways come off with reputation.
Hadst told me this before, perhaps I might Have thought on't; and yet I should not neither.
If the king thinks I am grown dangerous, It is all one to me which way he takes Me from his fears. He could not do it Handsomer than thus; it makes less noise now-- But come, I must not fear such things, Inophilus: The king hath more virtue and honour than To do these actions, fit only for guilty souls; Nor must I fear, when my Inophilus fights by me.
INO. Troth, sir, for all your compliment, if you've No valour but what owes itself to my company, you're like To make cold breakfast of your enemies: I have other business than to throw away My life, when there is so much odds against it: I'll stay at home, and pray for you, that's all, sir.
PLAN. How! wilt not go then, Inophilus?
INO. The time hath been, I thought it better sport To bustle through a bristly grove of pikes; When I have courted rugged danger with Hotter desires than handsome faces, And thought no woman half so beautiful As bloody gaping wounds: But, sir, To go and cast away myself now would not Be gallant, nor an action worth my envy: 'Tis weakness to make those that seek my ruin Laugh at my folly, With jaws stretch'd wider than the gulf that swallows us.
I know when honour calls me, and when treason counterfeits Her voice.
PLAN. Well, stay at home and freeze, And lose all sense of glory in A mistress' arms. Go, perish tamely, drunk With sin and peace; and may'st thou, since thou dar'st Not die with them, Outlive thy noble friends.
INO. I thank you, sir, but I cannot be angry.
SCENE III.
_Enter_ NICETES _and_ ARAMNES, _with some Captains and Soldiers_.
NIC. Yonder's the bones o' th' army ralli'd up Together, but they look'd rather as if They came home from being soundly beaten.
Methinks such tatter'd rogues should never conquer, Victory would look so scurvily among 'em, They'd so bedaub her if she wore clean linen.
CAPT. Sir, we wear as sound hearts in these torn breeches, As e'er a courtier of them all.
We are not afraid of spoiling our hands for want Of gloves, nor need we almond-butter, when We go to bed. And though my lieutenant Is pleased to be a little merry, you Shall see us die as handsomely in these old clothes As those wear better, and become our wounds As well, and perhaps smell as sweet When we are rotten.
PLAN. We hope it.
Captains and fellow-soldiers, we are proud Of this occasion to try your valours; You shall go no farther than your prince doth, I'll be no bringer up of rears. Let not The number of the foe affright you, The more they are, the more will the honour be.
The lion scorns to prey upon a hare, Nor is the blinking taper fit to try eagles' eyes.
The weight of glory makes our danger light.
When victory comes easily, 'tis half A shame to conquer.