Match Me in London – Act Four, Scene Three

Return to previous scene

Enter DON JOHN and PACHECO his boy.

 JOHN
Boy.

PACHECO
My lord.

JOHN
Art sure thou sawst the admiral at court?

PACHECO
Am I sure I see your lordship in your gown?

JOHN
And talking with the king?

PACHECO
Most familiarly.

JOHN
And what say the people about my committing to mine own house?

PACHECO
The beast grins at it; there’s a libel already of you, my lord.

JOHN
A libel!  Away!

PACHECO
Yes, faith, my lord, and a song to the tune of “Lament, Ladies, Lament.”

JOHN
I’m glad the stinkards are so merry.  A halter on ‘em; it’s music to them to have every man thrown off.  You have seen the king’s mistress, boy, have you not?  What manner of piece is’t?

PACHECO
Troth, my lord, I know not.  I never saw her shot off.  A pretty little pocket dog.

JOHN
What report gives she?

PACHECO
A very good report of her husband, but he gives an ill report of her.

JOHN
How does the ladies take it, now the King keeps a wench  under the Queen’s nose?

PACHECO
They take it passing heavily.  It goes to the heart of some of them that he keeps not them too.

JOHN
I heard say they were all once leaving the court.

PACHECO
True, sir, but there was a device which stopp’d ‘em.              [Knocking within.

JOHN
Who are you?

VALASCO
[Within.] My lord, we must speak with you.

JOHN
What are you?  [To PACHECO.] Fetch me a weapon.

OMNES
[Within.] Your friends.

KING
[Within.] ‘Sdeath, break it down!

Enter KING, VALASCO, and Others.

 JOHN
The King.
I did not understand your majesty.

KING
You shall, for I’ll speak plain to you.  Know you these?                                        [Shows papers.

JOHN
Not I.

KING
You do not; a king’s arm, thou seest,
Has a long reach, as far as Portugal
Can we fetch treason back hatch’d here by you.

JOHN
Me!

KING
Thee and the traitorous Portugals to deprive me
Of life and crown, but I shall strike their king
And them, and thee beneath into the earth.

JOHN
And lower then earth you cannot.

KING
Half your body
Is in the grave; it only lacks our hand
To cast the dust upon you, yet you stand
On slippery ice yourself and trip at us
Whose foot is fix’d on rocks, but since th’ast thrown
Thyself down, never look to rise.

JOHN
I care not.  I will be little so
In debt to you, that I will not owe you
So much as God a’ mercy for my life.

KING
You shall not then; stand not to aim at marks.
Now rove not but make choice of one fair white.
Th’ast but one arrow to shoot, and that’s thy flight.
The admiral knows our pleasure.                                 [Exit with train.

JOHN
And heaven knows mine.
Left in mine enemy’s hand.  Are you my gaoler?

VALASCO
No, my lord.  I think I’m rather left
To be your confessor.

JOHN
I need not any,
That you and I should both meet at one ball,
I being the stronger, yet you give the fall.

VALASCO
A kind of foot-ball slight, my lord.  Men use
Exceeding much at court; yourself has heard
Little shrimps have thrown men higher than the guard;
But barring this rough play, let’s now consider
For what I stay, and what you are to do.

JOHN
Do what?

VALASCO
To die.

JOHN
And must you play the hangman?

VALASCO
Break in, fellows.

Enter Guards.

 JOHN
‘Sdeath, what are these?

VALASCO
Your executioners appointed by the King.

JOHN
These my executioners,
And you my overseer.  Wherefore kneel they?

VALASCO
To beg  your pardon, for they fear their work
Will never please you.

JOHN
What book’s that they hold?
This is no time for dedications.

VALASCO
That book is sent in love to you from the king.
It contains pictures of strange sundry deaths.
He bids you choose the easiest.

JOHN
Then I choose this.                                                      [Snatches a halberd.

VALASCO
Your choice is ill-made.

JOHN
I’m more sorry, sir.
I had rather have my body hack’d with wounds
Then t’have a hangman fillip me.

VALASCO
My lord, pray pardon me.
I’m forc’d to what I do; ‘tis the King’s pleasure
To have you die in private.

JOHN
Anywhere;
Since I must down, the King might let me fall
From lofty pinnacles, to make my way
Through an arm’d field, yet for all that, even then,
Unless I slew a kingdom full of men
I should at last be paid home; blackest fate
Thy worst; I here defy thee, what the state
Appoints ‘tis welcome.

VALASCO
That’s to have your head.

JOHN
‘Tis ready.

VALASCO
He’ll be quiet when you are dead.                                            [Exeunt.

Proceed to the next scene

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

%d bloggers like this: