A Select Collection of Old English Plays Volume Xi Part 138

POL. Now we have our ends. [_Exeunt._

KING. Is there no means to save him, no way To get a dispensation for an oath?

None that I know, except the court of Rome Will grant one: that's well thought on; I will not spare for gold, and that will do it.

Nicanor!

_Enter_ NICANOR.

NIC. Sir!

KING. What book is that Thou hadst from Paris about the price of sins?

NIC. 'Tis called the Taxes of the Apostolical Chancery.[434]

KING. Is there a price for any sin set down?

NIC. Any, sir: how heinous e'er it be, Or of what nature, for such a sum of money As is set down there, it shall be remitted.

KING. That's well; go fetch the book presently.

NIC. I will, my lord. [_Exit_ NICANOR.

KING. Sure, there is perjury Among the rest, and I shall know what rate It bears, before I have committed it.

_Re-enter_ NICANOR.

How now, hast brought it?

NIC. Yes, sir.

KING. Read; I would know the price of perjury.

NIC. I shall find it quickly; here's an index. [_He reads._]

_Imprimis_. For murder of all kinds, of a clergyman, of a layman, of father, mother, son, brother, sister, wife----

KING. Read till you come at perjury.

NIC. _Item_, for impoisoning, enchantments, witchcraft, sacrilege, simony, and their kind and branches.

_Item, pro lapsu carnis_, fornication, adultery, incest without any exception or distinction; for sodomy, brutality, or any of that kind.

KING. My heart shakes with horror To hear the names of such detested sins.

Can these be bought for any price of money?

Or do these merchants but deceive the world With their false wares? No more of that foul book; I will not now know what I came to know.

I would not for the world redeem my oath By such a course as this. No more, Nicanor, Unless thou find a price for atheism.

Well, this is not the way to help, I see; I have thought of another that may prove And both discharge my oath, and save his life.

Nicanor, run presently, call Matho hither-- Matho the lawyer: command him to make haste; I long to be resolv'd.

NIC. I run, sir.

KING. He is a subtle lawyer, and may find Some point, that in the law's obscurity Lies hid from us--some point may do us good.

I have seen some of his profession Out of a case as plain, as clear as day To our weak judgments, and no doubt at first Meant like our thoughts by those that made the law, Pick out such hard, inextricable doubts, That they have spun a suit of seven years long, And led their hood-wink['d] clients in a wood, A most irremeable labyrinth, Till they have quite consum'd them. This they can do In other cases: why not as well in this?

I have seen others could extend the law Upon the rack, or cut it short again To their own private profits, as that thief, Cruel Procrustes, serv'd his hapless guests, To fit them to his bed. Well, I shall see.

I would Nicanor were return'd again, I would fain ease my conscience of that oath, That rash and inconsiderate oath I took.

But see! here they are coming.

_Enter_ MATHO _and_ NICANOR.

MATHO. Health to my sovereign!

KING. Matho, welcome.

I sent for thee about a business I would entreat thy help in.

MATHO. Your highness may command my service in that, Or anything lies in my power.

KING. 'Tis to decide a case that troubles me.

MATHO. If it lie within the compa.s.s of my knowledge, I will resolve your highness presently.

KING. Then thus it is: Lord Euphues' son, Young Philocles, has lately stol'n away The daughter and heir of Lord Polymetes, Who is his enemy: he, following him hard, Has apprehended him, and brings him to his trial To-morrow morning. Thou hast heard this news?

MATHO. I have, my liege, with every circ.u.mstance That can be thought on in the business.

KING. And what will be the issue of the law?

MATHO. He must die for't; the case is plain; unless Your grace will grant his pardon.

KING. But can there be no means thought upon To save him by the law?

MATHO. None, my lord.

KING. Surely there may; speak, man: I'll give thee double fees.

MATHO. It cannot be, my liege; the statute is plain.

KING. Nay, now thou art too honest; thou shouldst do, As other lawyers do: first take my money, And then tell me thou canst do me no good.

MATHO. I dare not undertake it; could it be done, I'd go as far as any man would do.

KING. Yes, if it were to cut a poor man's throat, you could; For some rich griping landlord you could grind The face of his poor tenant, stretch the law To serve his turn, and, guided by his angels, Speak oracles more than the tongues of men.

Then you could find exceptions, reservations, Stand at a word, a syllable, a letter, Go coin some scruples out of your own brains: But in a case so full of equity, So charitable as this, you can find nothing.

I shall for ever hate all your profession.

MATHO. I do beseech your highness to excuse me: I cannot do more than your laws will let me; Nor falsify my knowledge nor my conscience.

KING. Then I am miserable. Rise, Matho, rise, I do not discommend thy honesty, But blame my own hard fate. Ah, Philocles!

I would redeem thy life at any price; But the stars cross it: cruel fate condemns thee. [_Exeunt._