BRENNORALT.

A TRAGEDY.

ACT I. SCENE I.

Enter BRENNORALT and DORAN.

Bren. I say the court is but a narrow circuit,
Though something elevate above the common;
A kind of ant's nest in the great wild field,
O'ercharg'd with multitudes of quick inhabitants,
Who still are miserably busied to get in
What the loose foot of prodigality

As fast does throw abroad.

Doran. Good:

A most eternal place of low affronts,

And then as low submissions.

Bren. Right.

High cowards in revenges 'mongst themselves,
And only valiant when they mischief others.
Doran. Stars that would have no names,
But for the ills they threaten in conjunction.
Bren. A race of shallow and unskilful pilots;
Which do misguide the ship even in the calm,

And in great storms serve but as weight to sink it.

More, prithee more:

"Tis music to my melancholy.

[Alarm within.

Enter Soldier.

Sold. My lord, a cloud of dust and men The sentinels from the east gate discover; And as they guess, the storm bends this way.

Bren. Let it be.

Sold. My lord?

Bren. Let it be;

I will not fight to-day:

Bid Stratheman draw to the trenches.

On, prithee on.

Doran. The king employs a company of formal beards,

Men, who have no other proofs of their

Long life, but that they are old.

Bren. Right: and if they're wise

"Tis for themselves, not others,

As old men ever are.

Enter second Soldier.

2 Sold. Colonel, Colonel!

The enemy's at hand, kills all the sentries :

Young Almerin leads them on again.
Bren. Let him lead them off again.

2 Sold. Colonel

Bren. Begone!

If thou'rt afraid, go hide thyself. 2 Sold. What a devil ails he?

[Alarum.

[Exit.

Bren. This Almerin's the

ague

of the camp:

He shakes it once a day.

Doran. He's the ill conscience rather:

He never lets it rest; would I were at home again.

'Sfoot we lie here i' th' trenches, as if it were

For a wind to carry us into th' other world:

Every hour we expect

I'll no more on't.

Bren. Prithee

Doran. Not I, by heav'n.

Bren. What, man! the worst is but fair death.

Doran. And what will that amount to? - a fair epitaph. A fine account - I'll home, I swear.

Enter STRATHEMAN.

Stra. Arm, arm, my lord,

And show yourself, all's lost else.

Doran. Why so?

Stra. The rebels, like an unruly flood,

Roll o'er the trenches, and throw down
All before them.

Bren. Ha!

Stra. We cannot make a stand.

Bren. He would out-rival me in honour too,
As well as love; but that he must not do.
Help me, Stratheman-

The danger now grows worthy of our swords;
And, oh Doran! I would to heav'n there were
No other storms than the worst tempest here.

[Puts on armour.

Enter MARINELL, throwing down one he carries.

Mar. There;

[Exeunt.

The sun's the nearest surgeon I know,

And the honestest; if thou recover'st, why so:

If not, the cure's paid: they have maul'd us.

Enter GRAINEVERT, with another upon his back.

Grain. A curse light on this powder;

It stays valour ere it's half way on its journey:
What a disadvantage fight we upon in this age!
He that did well heretofore,

Had the broad fair day to show it in:

Witnesses enough; we must believe one another "Tis night when we begin;

Eternal smoke and sulphur.

Smalky, by this hand I can bear with thee

No longer how now? dead, as I live.

Well, go thy ways; for a quiet drinker and dier,

I shall never know thy fellow:

These trifles too about thee?

There was never an horrester poor wretch

[Searches his pockets.

Born, I think; look i̇' th' other pocket too — hum,

Marinell!

Mar. Who's that?

Grain. "Tis I: how go matters?

Mar. Scurvily enough;

Yet since our colonel came they've got no ground

Of us; a weak sculler against wind and tide

Would have done as much; hark!

This way the torrent bears.

Enter FRESOLIN, ALMERIN, Rebels.

Fres. The villains all have left us.

Alm. Would they had left their fears

Behind them. But come, since we must

Enter BRENNORALT and Soldiers.

Bren. Ho! Stratheman,

Skirt on the left hand with the horse,
And get betwixt these and that body;

They're new rallied up for rescue.

Doran. They're ours.

I do not see my game yet.

[Exeunt.

[BRENNORALT charges through.

[Exeunt. [A shout within.

Enter BRENNORALT, DORAN, STRATHEMAN, and MARINELL.

Bren. What shout is that?

Stra. They have taken Almerin, my lord.

Bren. Almerin! The devil thank 'em for't:

When I had hunted hard all day,

And now at length unherded the proud deer,

The curs have snatch'd him

up. Sound a retreat;

There's nothing now behind. Who saw Doran?

Stra. Shall we bring Almerin in?

Bren. No; gazing is low triumph :

Convey him fairly to the king,

He fought it fairly.

Doran. What youth was that, whom you bestrid, my lord, And sav'd from all our swords to-day?

Stra. The governor's son, Fresolin, his mistress' brother.
Bren. No matter who.

Tis pity the rough hand

Of war should early courages destroy,
[In DORAN's ear.
Before they bud, and show themselves i' th' heat
Of action.

Mar. I threw, my lord, a youth upon a bank,
Whom seeking after the retreat, I found dead,
And a woman, the pretty daughter

Of the forester - Lucillia.

Bren. See, see, Doran; a sad experiment:
Woman's the cowardliest and coldest thing

The world brings forth; yet love, as fire works water,
Makes it boil o'er, and do things contrary

To its

nature. proper

I should shed a tear,

Could I tell how. - Ah, poor Lucillia!

Thou didst for me what did as ill become thee.
Pray see her gently buried.

Boy, send the surgeon to the tent; I bleed:
What lousy cottages they've given our souls!
Each petty storm shakes them into disorder;
And 't costs more pains to patch them up again
Than they are worth by much. I'm weary of
The tenement.

[Exeunt.

Enter VILLANOr, Grainevert, MARINELL, and STRATHEMAN.

Grain. Villanor! welcome, welcome! whence cam'st thou? Vil. Look, I wear the king's highway still on my boots.