ALPH. Well, I'll go to him presently. [_Exit_ ALPHONSO.
FRANC. Now, my dear Luce, I shall find means to 'quite Thy love, that couldst descend so low as I, When I was nothing, and with such affection.
This was my suit still to the powers above, To make me worthy of thy constant love.
But I'll about the project I intended. [_Exit_ FRANCISCO.
_Enter_ VIRRO _and_ POLYMETES.
POL. Why, now, my lord, you are nearer to her love than ever you were yet; your rival by this accident shall be removed out of the way; for before the scornful girl would never fancy any man else.
VIR. I conceive you, sir.
POL. I laboured it for your sake as much as for my own, to remove your rival and my enemy: you have your love, and I have my revenge.
VIR. I shall live, my lord, to give you thanks. But 'twill be after a strange manner, if Irus has despatched what he was hired to: then, my kind lord, I shall be a little too cunning for you. [_Aside._
POL. My lord, you are gracious with the king.
VIR. I thank his majesty, I have his ear before another man.
POL. Then see no pardon be granted; you may stop anything; I know Euphues will be soliciting for his son.
VIR. I warrant you, my lord, no pardon passes whilst I am there; I'll be a bar betwixt him and the king. But hark! the king approaches.
_Enter_ KING, _with Attendants_.
AMBO. Health to your majesty.
KING. Count Virro and Lord Polymetes, welcome: You have been strangers at the Court of late, But I can well excuse you, count; you are about a wife, A young one, and a fair one too, they say.
Get me young soldiers, count: but speak, When is the day? I mean to be your guest; You shall not steal a marriage.
VIR. I thank your majesty; but the marriage that I intended is stolen to my hand, and by another.
KING. Stolen! how, man?
VIR. My promised wife Is lately stol'n away by Philocles, Lord Euphues' son, against her father's will; Who follow'd 'em, and apprehended them: The law may right us, sir, if it may have course.
KING. No reason but the law should have its course.
_Enter_ EUPHUES.
EUPH. Pardon, dread sovereign, pardon for my son.
KING. Your son, Lord Euphues! what is his offence?
EUPH. No heinous one, my liege, no plot of treason Against your royal person or your state: These aged cheeks would blush to beg a pardon For such a foul offence: no crying murder Hath stain'd his innocent hands; his fault was love-- Love, my dear liege. Unfortunately he took The daughter and heir of Lord Polymetes, Who follows him, and seeks extremity.
POL. I seek but law; I am abus'd, my liege, Justice is all I beg: my daughter's stol'n, Staff of my age; let the law do me right.
VIR. To his just prayers do I bend my knee.
My promis'd wife is stol'n, and by the son Of that injurious lord: justice I crave.
EUPH. Be like those powers above, whose place on earth You represent; show mercy, gracious king, For they are merciful.
POL. Mercy is but the king's prerogative, 'Tis justice is his office: doing that, He can wrong no man, no man can complain; But mercy show'd oft takes away relief From the wrong'd party, that the law would give him.
EUPH. The law is blind, and speaks in general terms; She cannot pity where occasion serves: The living law can moderate her rigour, And that's the king.
POL. The king, I hope, in this will not do so.
EUPH. 'Tis malice makes thee speak, Hard-hearted lord. Hadst thou no other way To wreak thy canker'd and long-foster'd hate Upon my head but thus--thus bloodily By my son's suffering, and for such a fault, As thou shouldst love him rather? Is thy daughter Disparag'd by his love? Is his blood base, Or are his fortunes sunk? This law was made For suchlike cautions to restrain the base From wronging noble persons by attempts Of such a kind; but where equality Meets in the match, the fault is pardonable.
_Enter_ LEUCOTHOe.
LEU. Mercy, my sovereign! mercy, gracious king!
POL. Minion, who sent for you? 'twere modesty For you to be at home.
KING. Let her alone. Speak, lady: I charge you, no man interrupt her.
LEU. If ever pity touch'd that princely breast, If ever virgin's tears had power to move, Or if you ever lov'd, and felt the pangs That other lovers do, pity, great king-- Pity and pardon two unhappy lovers.
KING. Your life is not in question.
LEU. Yes, royal sir, If law condemn my Philocles, he and I Have but one heart, and can have but one fate.
EUPH. Excellent virtue! thou hadst not this from thy father.
KING. There's music in her voice, and in her face More than a mortal beauty: O my heart!
I shall be lost in passion if I hear her. [_Aside._]
I'll hear no more: convey her from my presence: Quickly. I say.
EUPH. This is strange!
VIR. I told you what he would do; I knew He would not hear of a pardon, and I against it; He respects me.
POL. No doubt he does, my lord: I like this passage well.
KING. But stay: Stay, lady, let me hear you. Beshrew my heart, My mind was running of another matter.
VIR. Where the devil hath his mind been all this while? Perhaps he heard none of us neither; we may e'en tell our tales again.
POL. No, sure, he heard us; but 'tis very strange.
KING. 'Tis such a tempting poison I draw in, I cannot stay my draught. [_Aside._] Rise up, lady.
LEU. Never, until your grace's pardon raise me.
There's pity in your eye: O, show it, sir.
Say pardon, gracious king; 'tis but a word And short, but welcome as the breath of life.