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  • Title: Fair Em (Modern)
  • Editor: Brett Greatley-Hirsch
  • ISBN:

    Copyright Digital Renaissance Editions. This text may be freely used for educational, non-profit purposes; for all other uses contact the Editor.
    Author: Anonymous
    Editor: Brett Greatley-Hirsch
    Not Peer Reviewed

    Fair Em (Modern)

    1003.1[Scene 13]
    Enter William taken, with soldiers.
    William
    1005Could any cross, could any plague, be worse?
    Could heaven or hell, did both conspire in one
    To afflict my soul, invent a greater scourge
    Than presently I am tormented with?
    Ah, Mariana, cause of my lament,
    1010Joy of my heart, and comfort of my life.
    For thee I breathe my sorrows in the air
    And tire myself, for silently I sigh:
    My sorrow afflicts my soul with equal passion.
    Soldier
    Go to, sirrah, put up. It is to small purpose.
    William
    1015Hence, villains, hence! Dare you lay your hands
    Upon your sovereign?
    Soldier
    Well, sir, we will deal for that.
    But here comes one will remedy all this.
    Enter Demarch.
    1020My lord, watching this night in the camp
    We took this man and know not what he is,
    And in his company was a gallant dame,
    A woman fair in outward show she seemed,
    But that her face was masked we could not see
    1025The grace and favour of her countenance.
    Demarch
    [To William] Tell me, good fellow, of whence and what thou art?
    Soldier
    Why do you not answer my lord? He takes scorn to answer.
    Demarch
    And takʼst thou scorn to answer my demand?
    1030Thy proud behaviour very well deserves
    This misdemeanour at the worst be construed.
    Why, dost thou neither know, nor hast thou heard
    That in the absence of the Saxon duke
    Demarch is his especial substitute
    1035To punish those that shall offend the laws?
    William
    In knowing this, I know thou art a traitor,
    A rebel, and mutinous conspirator.
    Why, Demarch, knowʼst thou who I am?
    Demarch
    Pardon, my dread lord, the error of my sense,
    1040And misdemeanour to your princely excellency.
    William
    Why, Demarch,
    What is the cause my subjects are in arms?
    Demarch
    Free are my thoughts, my dread and gracious lord,
    From treason to your state and commonweal.
    Only revengement of a private grudge
    1045By Lord Dirot lately proffered me,
    That stands not with the honour of my name,
    Is cause I have assembled for my guard
    Some men in arms that may withstand his force,
    Whose settled malice aimeth at my life.
    William
    1050Where is Lord Dirot?
    Demarch
    In arms, my gracious lord,
    Not past two miles from hence, as credibly
    I am ascertained.
    William
    Well, come, let us go.
    1055I fear I shall find traitors of you both.
    Exit.