ACT I. SCENE I.
The Curtain drawn, discovers the Prince
de Bergue, with the
Counts Fontagne and
Ravillido, Brigadier Fagel, Marshal Spinosa, and other Officers in Council at the
Stadt-Huys or
Town-Hall of
Mons, examining a Scout, whom they had sent to observe the Motions of the
French.
Prince B.
BUT does the Army march directly hither?
Scout.
They seem, my Lord, to have no other aim,
For from the Hills I saw their Cavalry
Descend in so much order with their Trumpets,
Haut-bois and Drums in warlike Consort playing
As if instead of fighting they intended
A solemn Triumph in the Plains of
Hainault.
Prince.
'Tis yet preposterous tho, to let such Joys
Soften their Souldiers Minds before Engagement,
Know you the Strength and Number of their Force?
Scout.
Reports, my Lord, are Various, yet 'tis thought
That Fifty thousand Men compose their Army.
Prince.
Let Fifty thousand swell to Fifty Millions,
As daring as their General
Luxemberg;
And cruel as the Marquess
de Bouffleers,
Yet
Mons shall stand against their mighty Force,
My Lords, your thoughts of this bold Undertaking?
C. Ravillido.
[Page 2]
'Tis what we feared, what did I say we fear'd it?
Forgive the word—we know not what it means
This friendly Visit we have long expected,
But yet we hope with int'rest to repay it;
'Tis kindly done to let us know their coming,
That we get things ready for their welcome,
And not as once in the Disguise of Merchants,
Seize on our Gates, and let the Foes come in,
Myn Heer (
speaking to Fagel) you best the Towns Condition know.
Fagel.
If Art and Nature ever yet contriv'd,
A place to bear the worst attacks of Fortune,
'Tis surely
Mons can make the justest claim,
If Horn-works, Bastions, Counterscarps, Redoubts,'
With the united Force of
Germans, Dutch,
Walloones and
Spaniards both of Foot and Horse,
Bred in the Art of War and Blood since Infancy
Speak a place strong, then
Mons will try their Valour.
Prince B.
Fagel, The Genius of a Martial Soul,
Dictates your thoughts, yet Caution is a Vertue,
For were our Bulwarks strong as walls of Brass,
And Ramparts which to time might bid defiance,
Yet were the Souldiers treacherous or disloyal,
The place would quickly yield to Gallick Force.
Fagel.
The Souldiers false? avert the thought kind Heaven!
My Lord, so very brave and stout the' appear,
As if one gallant and Heroick Soul
Did actuate of Men so great a Body,
[...]he Burghers too have seem'd to lay aside
[...]ll thoughts of getting Wealth, and heaping Riches.
[...]aily they leave their Shops to handle Arms,
[...]nd exercise with so much art and skill,
[...]s Nature seem'd to have design'd 'em Souldiers.
Prince B.
Fagel you chear my Soul with the Relation,
[...]ut we have now no time for long De
[...]tes
[...]is Action now must make us Formidable,
[...]y Lords
Fontagne and
Ravillido, you
[...]ith your respective Troops take care to guard
[...]e Magazines,
Spinosa 'tis your Post
[Page 3] Upon the VValls to manage all the Canon
To
Harcourt I've already given a Charge.
Fagel.
'Tis known you no Instructions want,
Nor does your God-like Vertue need Directions
Let every Man of us altho remember
No common Cause we wear upon Swords,
Let each but think that on his single Valour
Depends the Glory or the Fall of
Mons
Eternal Honour or perpetual Slav'ry,
If helps to Valour we should stand in need,
Let us reflect upon the breach of Oaths,
Truces and Edicts sign'd by treacherous French,
Let's think of
Phillipsburg, Spire, Worms, and other
Once famous Towns, now heaps of Dirt and Ruines,
Let this within our minds form such impressions
Of French Civility that we may never
Listen to Overtures of tame Surrender.
Fagel.
Surrender—had I my Lord the least suspicion
That in these Brains of mine such thoughts were lurking
By Heav'n Ide dash 'em out against a Mortar-piece,
As soon my Wife and all my little Children,
Ide tamely hold, before a Rugged Villain,
VVhilst he with cruel Knife ript up their Throats,
As yield my Country up to Monsieur's Terms.
Ravillido.
Bravely resolv'd. But
Fagels not alone,
There's not a Man that bears Command in
Mons,
VVho will not wish to loose the use of Hearing
Before he'l listen to such base Demand.
Prince.
My Lords I pray you let no nice Suspicions
Disturb our Friendships—Each Man to his Post,
Mean while be Orders sent to all the Convents,
The Monasteries and Religious Houses
VVithin the City that the Holy Fathers
VVith Prayers and Tears, long Fastings and Processions
May bribe the Saints t'assist us in our woes,
And turn these threatning Clouds another Day
Spinosa, wait upon me to the Palace.
Exeunt all but
Fagel.
Fagel.
[Page 4]
VVhat e're the Matter is I cannot tell,
I do not love these Priests, for in a Siege,
They are as useless as their Holy-water:
'Tis strange, their Prayers should do no more Execution
[...]
Then we effect with all our Bombs and Canon;
And for their parts, they are unskill'd in Arms:
Yet I bely 'em, for these shaven Scoundrels
Know but too well the use of Carnal weapons;
They have more Business with their Female Penitents,
Then hearing them confess and then absolve them.
VVhile we are fighting to defend their Lives,
These holy Rogues are nibbling at our VVives.
ACT I. SCENE II.
The Scene the chief Street in Mons.
Enter six Burgers with Pioneers and other Rabble.
1. Burger.
(
looking up) You Sirrah, untile that House quickly, or I shall
[...]ntile your Brain-pan for you—you Dog.
2. Burg.
VVhat's the meaning of your practice Neighbour, d'ye think
[...]he French when they've taken the Town, will come in at the Top of the House?
1. Burg.
No, but they will send their Messengers beforehand to give us
[...]otice of their coming, by a very civil Person, in the shape of a Bomb.
2. Burg.
And how does he deliver his Message?
1. Burg.
Truly in a very passionate manner, he is so very full of rage
[...]hat he bursts with it.
3. Burg.
VVhy he speaks his mind very plainly then.
1. Burg.
Ay and very loudly too when I was at
Genoa, the French Fleet
[...]ave us a Visit
en passant, and sent us such a number of these fiery Mes
[...]ngers, that the Town could hardly afford 'em house-room.
4. Burg.
Unpave that Quadrangle quickly, we'll endeavour they shall
[...]ll soft, for they are very apt to break their Bones when they come
[...]own.
5. Burg.
This new way of House-breaking came up but very lately
[...]re.
6 Burg.
[Page 5]
And the Devil on't is, there's no Statute against it, But when are we to expect this
French Visit?
1 Burg.
They are now within 4 Leagues of the place and cannot fail Of being here by to morrow noon.
5 Burg.
Well, Heaven be prais'd we are pretty well provided to entertain 'em, our Governour is a Wise Discreet Prince, his Officers Trusty, and I hope we have no Rogues amongst our selves.
2 Burg.
Only our foolish pity is apt to betray us in Complacense to the Women; my Wife does so desire me to keep out of Harms way, that she grows perfectly troublesom.
6 Burg.
For my part I could wish 'em all in Purgatory while the Business is over.
1 Burg.
Ay, and the Priests too with 'em, for they are never asunder, since the noise of the
French's coming, the Confessionalls and Churches are so cramm'd with 'em, that one cannot get a Priest now to a sick man's Bed, and so the poor Wretch must go out of the World without Extream Unction.
6 Burg.
For my part I have an indifferent Opinion of my Wives Honesty, but I cannot swear for the Chastity of her Confessor, since by a mistake he show'd her
Aretines Postures instead of the
Rosary.
Enter a Rabble bringing in 3 French Spies.
1 Rabble.
Bring 'em along, bring 'em along—we'l give 'em Beef to their Vinegar.
2 Rabble.
Will nothing go down with you ye Dogs but Gun-Powder Sawce.
2 Burg.
The Occasion of this Tumult quickly Sirrah.
1 Rabble.
Why Sir, these very civil Gentlemen foreseeing the Miserie we were to suffer in the Siege designed to have Blown up our great Magazine of Powder.
1 Burg.
Horrible Rogues!
2 Rab.
Nay Sir, the very Lighted Match was discovered within 9 inche of the Train.
3 Burg.
By which it may be easily guess't they are not 10 inches from Halter.
1 Rab.
The design Sir was laid in the Garden of
Malheur the
Fren
[...] Lawyer, but he has troop't off and so sav'd his Bacon.
1 Burg.
[Page 6]
Shall Villanies like this remain unpunisht?
Rather then such designing Hell-Born Rogues
Should want due punishment I'd once turn Hang-man,
But lest our Passions should exceed Discretion
Carry the Rascals to the Governour
Who is too prudent and too just a Prince
To let such Treacheries pass unrewarded.
1 Rah.
Yes Sir, yes Sir, we'l conduct 'em to the Governour, and afterwards hope to make one Holi-day to see 'em broke on the Wheel: Come away Dogs, Rogues, Sons of Whores, come away.
[Exeunt Rabble with the Prisoners.
5 Burg.
A Lucky discovery this—the whole
French Army could not do us half the mischief as one of these was able to effect—
1 Burg.
Yet all this shall not abate one jot of my kindness for the
French; Oh methinks a Monsieurs heart would be a rare Breakfast
5 Burg.
Well Pepper'd and Salted upon a
Spanish Gridiron.
Guns heard at a distance.
1 Burg.
Hear you the noise?
2 Burg.
I am not Deaf I think—well now the worst is come to the worst, if you'll follow my example, Bury your Plate, Lock up your Wives and Children, and with a Musket on his Shoulder, let every man be the
Swiss of his own Family.
[Exeunt.
ACT I. SCENE III.
Enter a large Procession of the Religious, the Host born under a Canopy by the Abbots
Grimchi and Vaneuf, assisted by the Dominicans, &c. the chief of the Town following in due Order, with Wax Tapers in their hands making a very large Train—Durand, Ternon and Foquet bringing up the Reer—in their solemn March the Priests sing.
Behold behold ye blest above,
Who have no Passions now but Love,
Behold our sad distressed Town,
And look with tender Pity down.
Look down upon our Virgins Tears,
Look down upon our Matrons Fears,
[Page 7] Regard the cries of Old and Young,
Who daily to the Temple throng,
Your kindest pity we implore
Our wishes cannot hope for more,
'Tis pity pity we implore.
[The Procession goes off, manen
[...]
Durand, Ternon and
Foquet.
Foquet.
Ha ha ha ha ha—
Durand.
You'r merry
Foquet, the Occasion pray you.
Foquet.
Have I not reason? when I see the two Abbots so very piously assisting at a Devotion when their hearts are quite another way.
Durand.
How came you by this Intelligence, you are but a Lay-man, and Gentlemen of their Character seldom make such their Confessors.
Foquet.
Come come
Durand, and you Monsieur
Ternon, off off with your Disguises, and show your selves honest men—that is by interpretation according to the
Spanish Version—Rogues.
Ternon.
You amaze me for—
Foquet.
Nay never start
Ternon, you and I with
Durand, are all engaged in one cause. See you this
(shews Gold)
Who for such a Sum would not Hang his Father, lye with his Mother, and Crack his Sisters Maidenhead ha—?
Durand.
Come, come, I see you have found us out, and for my part my Fortunes having been at Low Water-mark a long time, I thought a little
French Gold no very unacceptable Present considering my Circumstances.
Ternon.
Well then since we understand one another, let's consult the chief Methods how to merit more of these Favours.
Foquet.
Our first chief Business must be to magnify the Glory's of the
French-King in all Companys where we can do it safely; then that we may be equally as much at ease under his Government as under the King of
Spain, who is at too great a distance to take Cognizance of the ill Administration of his Officers.
Ternon.
I had a Letter t'other day from a Correspondence of mine in
England, who tells me that Gentlemen there lay Wagers like mad that
Mons will be in the
French hands by such a time—you know
[Page 8] our wishes generally command our Purses—but hold who are these—
Enter a Rabble crying out Confusion to the
French, Confusion to the
French.
Rabble.
How now, who are you?
Ternon.
We Gentlemen, we are Citizens of
Mons.
Rabble.
Are you for the
French or no?
Foquet.
For the
French, no, no? rot the Rogues, sink, burn and confound 'em—Heaven be Deaf to my Prayers.
[Aside.
Rabble.
Come come along with us, along with us.
Exeunt.
ACT I. SCENE 4.
SCENE. The Palace.
Enter Prince de Bergue Discoursing with
Fagel and
Spinosa with other Officers.
Prince.
I'm glad to find that gen'rous Resolution
Appears in both the Soldiers and the Burghers
To keep the Town even to the last extremity.
Fagel.
Never did men appear with greater Brav'ry
In all the Sieges History makes mention
Then this of
Mons.
Prince.
Have the
French form'd their Camp?
Fagel.
They'r very busy in pursuit of Ruin,
Their Horse consist of two and forty Squadrons,
And in fit posts they now their Foot are placing;
Great numbers of the Boors they have compell'd
To work upon the Lines and drain the Marshes,
[Page 9] As yet their Bombs and Cannon are behind,
Nor have they given us one kind Salute
From mouth of Gun, but hourly we expect it.
Prince.
Since in Civility they are so backward,
Let us then first begin—And you
Spinosa
Go quickly then and order Colonel
Harcourt,
With a pickt number of bold daring Youths
Assisted by some few Dragoons and Hors
[...],
That instantly they make a furious Sally
Upon the Foe, and Heaven succeed their Arms.
Spinosa.
I know, my Lord, the Message will be welcome,
Their youthful Blood is ready to boil or'e
With Rage against the
French, with half that Eagerness
They would not fly to the desired embraces
Of the most charming of their Mistresses
As now they will to Arms.
Prince.
No Speeches Marshal—
Their Truth I doubt not—execute your Orders.
Spinosa.
I go my Lord.
Exit Spinosa.
Prince.
If my presaging hopes are true propheticks,
Our Enemies will soon repent this Visit.
Enter one from the French Camp.
Officer.
My Lord, A Messenger from the Enemy:
Prince.
Your Business, Sir.
Mess.
'Tis from the noble
Marquess de Bouffleers,
Who to your Highness bid me give this Summons.
Prince.
Read it Captain,
To an Officer.
Officer Reads.
To you the
Prince and Governour of
Mons,
My Royal Master his kind Greeting sends,
And in his Name commands you to surrender
The Town and Citadel without delay;
Which just Demand, if proudly you refuse,
Himself attended with his Son the
Dauphine,
And all the Flower of
France will force you to't,
Bouffleers.
Prince.
Go tell the Marquess from the
Prince Bergue,
The King of
France affords me too much Honour
[Page 10]
[...]o come himself in Person to behold
[...]he brave Defence we are resolv'd to make.
Exit Messenger.
[...]urrender
Mons, my dear lov'd Native Town?
[...]s soon I'd sell my valued Right of Birth
[...]ith Arms and plenty of Provisions stor'd,
[...]e doubt not but to tire the Force of
France.
[...]carce thirteen years are past since they attempted
[...]o gain the Town, but then they were repulsed
[...]t height of Noon, and beaten from their Trenches
[...]y the brave Valour of the great
Nassau
[...]ow
Britains Monarch at the
Hague Consulting
[...]he fittest Methods Christendom to free
[...]om servile Chains and Arbitrary Sway
[...]hich gladly
France would on all
Europe lay
ACT II. SCENE I.
[...]ene the Duke of
Luxemburghs Tent in the
French Camp, present himself, the Marquess
de Boufflers, the Marshal
de Duras, Fevillade, &c.
[...]M. Bouffl.
A trifling Loss, and scarcely worth the naming,
[...] the whole Action but five hundred slain:
[...]d we must do our Eemies that Justice,
[...]ey sallied out like Men inur'd to Arms.
Luxemb.
Relieve the Centrys that have watcht so long,
To the Officers.
[...]ture must have repose—this stubborn Town
[...]l vexes me, yet were our num'rous Army
[...] great as e're was chronicled in Story,
[...] should be slain ev'n to a single Man,
[...]re the Kings Pretentions should be lost.
Enter a Messenger.
Messeng.
My Lord, another Sally has been made,
[...] Enemy attempting to demolish
[...]ind-mill to the Counterscarp adjoyning,
[...] in the Action kill two hundred Men.
[...]uxemb.
Let them go on and surfeit with their Glory,
[Page 11] Fortune with these Successes does but flatter 'em,
Like Gamesters they at first have Lucky throws,
This tempts them on to venture deeper still,
Till they at last by one unlucky Chance
Loose all their flatt'ring hopes and store of gain.
Boufflers.
Never was better tim'd this City's Siege,
Secure they liv'd, not Dream'd of such Attacques,
The Governour of all the
Spanish Netherlands
Is at the
Hague consulting how to form
The Model of this present Summers War,
His presence wanting to inform their Actions,
Like men just rows'd from sleep they talk and act,
But 'tis with such Confusion that they hardly
Know whether that they act or speak at all.
Enter a Second Messenger.
Messenger.
My Lords, his Majesty is with his Highness
The
Dauphin, Conde, and the Duke
de Chartres,
Together with the chiefest of the Nobles,
Just now arrived in Person in the Camp,
And your immediate Conference commands.
Luxemb.
We go—This,
Boufflers is the Soul of Courage,
When our great Monarch does himself appear,
At head of all his Numerous Troops in person,
This no small Comforts to our hopes does bring,
Cowards will Fight when headed by a King.
ACT II. SCENE II.
A great Noise of Shooting is heard for some time, after which the Scene changes to the City of
Mons.
Enter
Fagel with several Officers.
Fagel.
Secure the Horn-VVorks, mount the Canon higher,
And Fire so fast upon 'em, that the Enemy
May loose themselves in Clouds of Fire and Smoak,
I hate to Fight in Jest—How fare the Troops
(to the Officers.
That you command, are they all brave and lusty?
1 Officer.
Like Soldiers in the most exalted sence
They Fight, and if of any fault they'r guilty,
[Page 12] 'Tis they expose themselves too near to Danger.
Fagel.
A Messenger is
[...] arrived in Town
From our Chief Head th
[...] Marquess
Castanaga,
T'inform the Burghers if they still persist
To keep the Town till timely Succours come
They shall be free from Taxes Twenty years:
Had you but seen with what Excess of Joy
The Message they receiv'd, you would have smil'd;
Fighting tho not agreeing with their Temper,
Yet to be freed from Tribute are Valiant,
For they hate Taxes worser than the
French.
Enter Collonel Brannacio. (
embracing him)
Welcome thou Soul of VVar, what sort of News
From
Brussels does the Lov'd
Brannacio bring?
Col. Brannacio.
News is a Drug, for all Discourse and Talk
Is laid aside, excepting
Mons Beleaguer'd;
Of this the very Children learn to prattle,
And it is taken and reliev'd each hour:
'Twas by Disguise my self and some few more
Got into the Town
Fagel.
And how appears the Army?
Branac.
Dreadful enough in sight and apprehension
[...]o those who want true Courage to defy
[...]he Force of such a Formidable Foe.
[...]met a Gentleman upon the Road,
Going in hast to the Marquess
Castanaga
[...]inform him of the Present State of
Mons,
[...]nd press for speedy Succours for our Aid.
Fagel.
Tho Plenty never was esteem'd a Burthen,
[...]t present we no Helps nor Aids require;
[...]ovisions we have got so great a Stock,
[...]o last four Months without the least Recruits;
[...]ur Men are hearty and unanimous,
[...]ch striving who his Fellow shall out-do
[...]acts of Valour; nay the very Burghers
[...]e So
[...]diers too, and hourly on the Walls
[...] Random Bullets do their Breasts expose.
Brannacio.
[Page 13]
The Prince just now receiv'd a haughty Message
From Monsieur
Lovis, That for ev'ry day
They stubbornly held out (since their great Monarch
Was in the Camp,) they should for such offence
Pay numerous Crowns for each delaying Morning.
Bravado's—Let them first defend the Claim
They make before they seize upon our Purses.
[A Trumpet heard!]
But hark some Signal,—Each Man to his Post,
Bravely we must defend, or
Mons is lost.
[Exeunt.]
Enter several
Burghers and
Souldiers running cross the Stage with
Buckets in their hands, crying out, Quench the Fire, quench the Fire. The
Scene closes.
ACT II. Scene 3.
The Scene. The French Kings Tent in the
[...]ench Camp, in which appears Lewis the XIV. The Dauphin, The Prince of Conde, Monsieur Lovis, The Duke d'Chartres, Monsieur Vauban, and other Officers.
K. of France.
When will my thirst of Glory find a Period?
Since I have aim'd at Universal Monarchy,
A restless thought still raging in my Breast,
Makes my Days irksom, and my Nights unquiet:
Whole Provinces already I've laid desolate,
And where so e're I stretcht my Conquering Arms,
In Blood and Ruins I make good my Title.
Lovis.
By this, great Sir, your Empire you enlarge.
K. F.
'Tis my Ambition
Lovis to be great;
Men of my rank do seldom think of dying:
But 'tis methinks a kind of satisfaction,
When after Ages seeing Towns destroy'd,
Shall say, that
Lewis made that Desolation.
Does
Mons yet still persist in Obstinacy?
Dauphin.
'Tis the old stubborn Town it ever was;
They nothing want to make a brisk Defence.
K. F.
Vauban you nicely have survey'd the place.
[Page 14] Where lyes it's chiefest strength, and where it's weakness?
M. Vauban.
Great Sir, I must confess their Forts are built
By the strict rules of modern Architecture,
Their Bastions strong, their Horn-works regular,
Their Ramparts good, and the deep Moats and Ditches
Add no small strength to the distressed Town.
Four Days your Royal Troops have
Mons beleagur'd,
And if my skill in War does not deceive me,
Before the
Sun six times goes round the Globe,
The place will yield to your victorious Arms.
K. F.
It shall,—the mighty
Lewis says it shall,
If force compel not, then I use my Gold;
No triffling
Sum I've brought to give the
Souldiers,
Who shall be taken notice of in Battel,
To give the best assurance of their Valour,
Besides some greater
Sum for private Service;
I have my Friends in
Mons as well as
Philip.
Lovis, here, take th
[...] Gold (
gives a Purse,) and send it quickly
By some bold lusty Officer of yours
In a Deserters habit to the Town,
And to the
Abbotts Grimchi and
Vaneufe,
Commend my Love, and tell 'em I'm their Friend;
Let this old Gold express my secret meaning,
The best the Language of my Presents know.
Lovis.
I fly, dread Sir, to execute your Pleasure.
[Exit Lovis.]
Enter Luxemburgh, Bouffleers,
&c.
F. K.
How goes the Siege, my Lords? You seem concern'd;
I read some strange confusion in your Faces.
Luxem.
Think not, great Sir, that fear or Cowardize,
Makes us thus wear this sadness on our looks;
To both we're strangers.—'Tis the great concern
We bear to your Majestick Reputation,
Which we suspect will find some Diminution.
In the Attempts upon the stubborn
Mons.
F. K.
Have I selected out from all my Troops
The choicest Men, and brought my houshold Guards
Gens d'Arms, Light-horse, and such a Train of Cannon
[Page 15] T'oppose one stubborn
Town? and am I baffl'd?
By all the Saints our holy Church adores,
I swear that no expence of Men or Mony
Shall e're be wanting to reduce the Place.
Bouffl.
Great Sir, the Souldiers in your Royal Army
Behave themselves with an uncommon Brav'ry;
But there is no defence against our Fate.
F. K.
Talk not of Fate to me; my Lord, I tell you
I over-rule her closest laid Designs,
And have her at my beck;—nay more, command her;
And notwithstanding these cross Accidents,
Am certain, that before few days are ended,
This Town of
Mons will own me for her Master.
To you
Rubenton (
speaking to him) our old trusty Servant,
We give the Government of this Conquer'd City
When e're it falls into Our Royal Hands;
Mean while, you
Luxemburgh, Bouffleers, and all
My Officers relating to the Siege,
Open the Trenches, use your utmost force,
To make the Town comply; but if it still
Resists my Arms,—by all the Gods I swear,
Within their streets I'le lay a Scene of Blood
Shall make their Dwellings horrible to Nature.
I will—my Lords, St.
Guislan is my Quarters,
Where I with ease refresh my self, still waiting
When the glad News arrives that
Mons is taken;
Then with a Grandeur like my self I enter,
As did my Predecessor
Julius Caesar
Along the streets of
Rome; for 'tis resolv'd,
Mons shall submit and own my Regal Power,
Or sudden ruine shall the Globe devour.
[Exit with his Train.]
Manent, Luxemburgh and Bouffleers.
Luxemb.
It shall submit—for so our Sovereign swears,
I wish it may, but when I make Reflections
With what true Courage they defend the Town,
I know not what to think.—
Bouffl.
—Besides my Lord,
[Page 16] The Prince of
Orange at the
Hague, is raising
A numerous Army of pickt chosen Souldiers
To raise the Siege, or else to give us Battel.
Luxemb.
All actions when t'extremity reduc'd
Require our nicest prudence; we no time
For long set-Speeches and Debates can spare;
It must be Action terminates the War.—
[Exeunt Ambo.]
ACT. II. Scene 4.
The Scene changes to the Fort upon Windmill-hill. Engineer Pedro, Spinosa, and other Officers and Souldiers appear.
Pedro.
To see the various effects of Fortune!
Thrice has this place been in the Enemies hands,
And thrice they have been beaten out again,
With more then
Roman Bravery by the Souldiers.
Spinosa.
Major, If any thing of War I know,
I think it is not safe to keep the place
In our own Power; indeed 'tmust be confest,
To take it, they have now already lost
In their Attaques about Two thousand Men.
A pretty Sum for such a trifling Post.
Pedro.
Your Advice, What must be done?
My orders from the Prince are independent.
He giving me a large and full Commission,
To act as I should judge most proper for the safety
Of
Mons distrest; now, Sir, with low submission
To your grave Judgment, I esteem it fittest
That instantly we blow the Wind-mill up.
Spinosa.
No flattery,
Pedro, I resign my self
And thoughts entirely to your wise directions;
Souldier—(
speaking to one) how stands the Enemy abroad?
1. Souldier.
My Lord, they're very busie in working upon the Trenches, little thinking poor Curs they are digging their own Graves.
Pedro.
Is the Coast free from any straggling Troops?
2. Souldier.
[Page 17]
Yes, my Lord, only half a Dozen or so together, a louzing themselves in the Sun; I wonder what quarters the poor Vermin can find upon such thread-bare Coats.
Spinosa.
Then March all out, but not in heaps at once.
But three or four together to the Town,
Put on a chearful look as unconcern'd,
The last that stay, are
Pedro and my self,
Who with a Train will blow the
Windmill up,
Then try our utmost valour in the Siege.
1. Souldier.
We go, my Lord, we go; but if we should meet with a Party of
French in our way, we cannot forbear boxing 'em for our Lives, poor rotten Rogues; for t'other Day I twang'd one of them by the Nose, and with a slight pull it came off into my hand, I believe all his Carcass was of the same Brittle Ware.
Spinosa.
Be cautious, tho' in all your undertakings.
Pedro have you affixt the Train?
Pedro.
I have, my Lord.
Now for the Town, where Fortune seems to vary,
But Heaven forbid our Arms should still Miscarry.
ACT II. Scene 5.
Scene,
A street in Mons.
Enter several Burghers
in Arms, with Pioneers
and Souldiers.
1 Burg.
HAve you quencht the Fire in
Domingo's-
street?
Pioneer.
Yes, Sir, but there is another broke out near the
Palace.
2. Burg.
These Bombs are like Plaisters of
Cant
[...]arides, they raise Blisters where e're they are apply'd.
3. Burg.
I think o' my Conscience the whole Town is troubled with a Saint
Antony's Fire, for 'tis burning almost in every place.
[A great noise heard.]
2. Burg.
Ha! what noise is that, Heaven guard our Sences.
Enter a Souldier running.
Souldier.
Good news, good news, the
Windmill is blown up.
1. Burg.
[Page 18]
Is that such good news, say you?
Sould.
Yes, Sir, for Major
Pedro blew it up to prevent the
French making use of it to annoy the Town; I have but one little Cottage of my own, and I'de make a Bon-fire on't before the
French should have it.
1. Sould.
Nay, never fret your self about that Fellow, Souldier, for if they go on as they began, the whole Town will be but one continued Bon-fire in a little time.
2. Souldier.
But we have pretty well warm'd their fingers for 'em already, they have lost (if Report be not a damn'd confounded lying Son of a Whore) above three thousand Men, and we not too hundred and sifty since the Siege.
Enter a
Switzer Deserter.
2. Burg.
How now, in the name of
Wonder, who art thou?
Switz.
Why, Sir, I am a Man and no Man, a Souldier and no Souldier.
1 Burg.
Or any thing, or rather nothing; speak quickly, what are you? who are you? and who d'yee belong to?
Switz.
Sir, I was a Souldier in the
French Camp, and for divers and sundry reasons have deserted it.
Souldier.
To come to be a Spy upon us—knock out his brains, knock out his brains for a Son of an overgrown Mustachio.
Switzer.
You wrong me, Gentlemen, I am no Villain,
But one whom
just resentment has compell'd
To leave the
French, my once Tyrannick Masters,
To serve—Oh I am very faint.
1. Burg.
Give him some Brandy, give him some Brandy; a very honest fellow, this o' my Conscience, rubb his temples, rubb his Temples—so, no now he comes to himself—Well Friend, how stands the
French Camp?
Switz.
It moves along in a continued Motion,
First on one side, then by and by on t'other,
And whispers hourly, buz about the Camp,
That a great Army hastens to relieve
Your almost ruin'd Town, or give 'em Battle.
2. Burg.
Courage, Courage, my Boys, chear up, my little Sons of Fire and Gun-Powder—here poor Fellow, there's some Money for you—I am mightily in love with this Switzer.
1. Burg.
[Page 19]
Will you affirm all this before the Prince?
Switz.
Yes and much more, for I have some Reports
Are only fitting for his private Ear,
Which if suspected, let me lye in Prison,
Until the certainty of all's confirm'd.
1. Burg.
Odd I love the Rogue from my heart, come I'le goe along with you to the Governour, and I'le warrant thee a Gold Chain and Medal.
Switz.
—Or if I'm false, a halter.
[Exeunt the
Burgers, with the
Switz.
Enter a great Rabble Crying out, Fire.
Sould.
Where, where?
Rabble.
Every where, every where, in the Palace, in the Market place. The whole Town is but one great Oven, and I think they design to bake us in't, come away, come away.
ACT III. Scene I.
Scene the Palace, present the Prince,
Fagel, Harcourt, Spinosa, Pedro. &c.
Prince.
SO great an Army 'fore so small a Town,
Seems that by numbers they design to Conquer;
As yet through all the sad Calamities
Of Fire and Blood,
Mons resolutely stands
The Object of their hate—but
Fagel Tell,
What succours from abroad must we expect?
Fagel.
Enough, if timely they assistance lend,
For th'English Monarch our once blest Deliverer,
With fifty thousand Men of the Confederates,
Lye now encampt near
Brussels, thence, to
Hall;
They march, where they expect some other Troops
To joyn them, which, with Regiments of
Scotch and
Spanish
Expected, likewise will increase the Army
To seventy thousand choice selected Souldiers.
I mention not their Mortars, nor their Cannon,
[Page 20] Which all together make a glorious Army.
Prince.
May Heaven succeed their Arms; but all this while
How stand Affairs within our selves? I fear
The Souldiers harass'd with continual Watchings,
And Burghers with their Losses half distracted,
May have some inclinations to surrender,
To rid themselves of this uneasiness.
Fagel.
My Lord, I only for the Souldiers speak,
They are unanimous, and every Man
Will to the last defend the Cities Glory
Against the bold Encroachments of the
French.
Harcourt.
The Burghers too my Lord, to all Appearance Are resolutely brave and bold in Action.
I know not how their Wives Endearments may
Soften their Minds, and lead their Wills astray.
A Great Shout heard.
Enter a Messenger.
Prince.
The News.
Messeng.
My Lord, ill Tidings must salute your Ears,
The
Half-Moon of the
Horn-work next the Gate
Of
Barlemont being widen'd with their Cannon,
Was just now with about Seven thousand Men
Storm'd with that fury, that in little time
The
French became the Masters of the Fort,
But in the three Attaques they gave the Place;
They lost at sev'ral times Three thousand Men.
Prince.
This sad Relation checks me not at all.
Fagel.
Nor me.
Harcourt.
Nor me.
Pedro.
Nor any whose great mind
Is plac'd above the rude Assaults of Fortune.
Prince.
Fagel and you
Spinosa—to the City
Hasten with speed and animate the Burghers;
Their Drooping Spirits may perhaps need Cordials.
Harcourt and
Pedro—to your Posts advance,
And let the Souldiers want no due Encouragement,
[Page 21] Whilst I about the Town in different Quarters
Comfort, advise, and order Necessaries;
But stop our Ears to all Capitulation.
Fagel.
Forbid it Heaven! No, first let glorious
Mons
Be made the Seat of one continued Fire,
And ev'ry Souldier perish in the Flame,
Rather than tamely yield our Lives so, and Fortunes
To
French discretion.—If I hear one whisper,
Whereever I resort, of tame Surrender,
By Heav'n I'le split the Skull of such a Man,
Were he my
Brother, or what's more my
Friend.
ACT. III. Scene 2.
The Scene a fine Apartment.
Enter the two Abbots,
Grimchi and
Vaneufe.
A. Van.
Methinks, Brother, you look very chearfully to day; these pleasing smiles of yours do not suit with the Calamity of the Times.
A. Grimchi.
What necessity is there, I should be dull and cloudy because the Times are so?
A. Vaneufe.
Great reason, our humours should always sympathise with melancholy occasions.
A. Grimchi.
No Brother, I had a Cordial sent me to day from the
French Kings own Closet, [
shews a Purse of Gold] smell on't, d'ye think 'tis rightly prepar'd.
A. Vaneufe.
I believe I can match it,—[
shews another Purse] 'tis exactly the same Colour, and prepar'd by the same hand, I believe; you know how to use it, I suppose.
A. Grimchi.
I were a blockhead else.
Enter three Women.
1 Wom.
Oh Lord, Father, I am in such a fright, I shall never be recover'd again.
2 Woman.
Oh Father, these Guns, these filthy Guns have made me almost distracted.
3 Woman.
Oh the Pains and Perils of Child-birth, are but a fleabiting
[Page 22] to the Fears I hourly suffer. Oh! my poor Husband was thrown down in a Croud, and has bruis'd his little Finger, I'm afraid he'll never recover again.
A. Grimchi.
Forbear, Daughters, these sad complaints,
You must look further than the outward cause,
Heaven has a good design in these Afflictions,
To humble us, and make us still more Vertuous.
1. Woman.
I shall be humbled I think with a Witness, I have neither washt my face nor comb'd my head since the siege began, besides a large Trunk in our Garret took fire, and burnt all my best Linnen.
2. Woman.
Nay, a Bomb that fell into our Yard, spoil'd me nineteen Dutch Cheeses, and five Firkins of Butter; Oh Lord, I'm undone, undone, why, I shall never eat a good Meal agen.
A. Vaneufe.
Patience, Daughters, patience. 'Tis Heavens High Pleasure, and there's no contending.
3. Woman.
Oh these wicked
French, they have kill'd all my Poultry, and the noise of the Cannons has sow'rd all the Liquor in my Cellar.
A. Grimchi.
Cease those Complaints, as fruitless all, we charge you, By scratching of the Wound you make it fester.
1. Woman.
I have not seen my poor Husband this three days, I'm afraid he was kill'd at the Horn-work.
2. Woman.
And mine had been kill'd too, If I had not lock'd him up in the Cellar poor Man.
A Bomb falls at some distance, and makes a great noise, at which the Women and Priests fall down flat on their Faces, crying out.
W. and
P.
Oh Lord, I am dead, I am dead,
O Jesu Maria, libera
[...]nos.
Enter a great number of the most cowardly Burghers, with other Rabble, running hastily into the Room for shelter, they stumble over the Priests and the Women.
1. Burg.
Hey day, hey day, here's fine doings; my Wife upon the Floor with two Priests, they talk of Horn-Works in the Town, I believe there has been some Works of that nature going forward here.
1. Woman.
Oh Lord,
Hubby, are you alive?—When the Bomb went off I fell in a Trance, and fancied your Corps appeared to me, and methought you were so stiff.
1. Burg.
[Page 23]
Come, come, no more fooling.
After some time, they all get up, and every one bows to the Priests, who bless them with the sign of the Cross, and sprinkle Holy Water on them.
2. Burg.
Will our Misfortunes never have an end? 'Tis now a thing to me indifferent, whether we keep
Mons or no, for my part I'm undone already.
3. Burg.
And I too, I am not worth the twentieth part of a Ducat.
2. Woman.
Oh, my Husband and I, when we were first married, had a great deal of good House-hold-stuff, but 'tis all destroy'd excepting a hard flock Bed, and a joint stoc
[...].
1. Woman.
I wish the
French had the Town for my part so the Inhabitants were but at quiet.
2. Burg.
And I too, let the
Turk have it rather than live this sad noisie Life.
1. Burgh.
But they say we shall be relieved by the Confederate Army.
2. Burg.
Yes, by doomsday in the Afternoon.
A Grimchi.
Friends, Citizens—
3. Burgh.
Silence there, silence there, let the Father speak.
[a great silence.
A. Grimch.
Friends, Citizens, Inhabitants of
Mons,
By the offended hand of Heaven, you suffer
These sad Calamities of Fire and Sword,
Some very grievous Crimes you have committed;
Which thus has caus'd the Face of Heaven to frown,
Your Town besieged by the
French, has suffer'd
All the Misfortunes that attend a Siege;
But they are
Catholicks, and so are you;
Shall these fall out? Forbid it, oh just Heaven,
The Succours which pretend they would relieve you,
Are
Hereticks' mark that, my Friends, the'yr
Hereticks;
Would you to have your Town preserv'd by
Hereticks,
Hazard the safety of the true Religion
The Sacred
Roman Apostolick Faith?
Consider this, and tell me then yee sufferers,
Whether yee are true Christians, yea or no?
1. Burgh.
What think you, Neighbour, does Father
Grimchi speak truth or no—ha.
2. Burg.
[Page 24]
A notable Speech o' my Conscience,
But how, Father shall we help our selves?
F. Grimchi.
Will you for once my Ghostly Counsel take
All. Ay, ay, all of us, Father,—silence.
A. Grimchi.
Then putting on your most dejected looks,
Your selves and Wives shall to the Governour hasten.
But lest through hopes and fears you grow unruly.
The Reverend Father
Vaneufe and my self,
Will go before you in a large Procession,
And tell him the Calamities you suffer.
And that 'tis better to surrender far,
Than still to feel the dire effects of War.
All cry out.
A surrender, a surrender, we'll Capitulate.
A. Vaneufe.
Let every one by different ways repair
To th' Market place in less than half an hour,
Where we'll assist you to our utmost Pow'r.
[Exeunt, the Rabble one way, the Priests another.
ACT III. Scene 3.
Scene the Palace, present the Prince,
Ravilledo, Pedro Fagell, &c.
Prince.
NO Succours come! Oh most ill tim'd delay.
Fagel.
Tho' Succours still we want, yet 'tis a pleasure,
To think how dear our Enemies have paid
For this Attempt upon the Town of
Mons;
The Duke
de Maine, and the
Grand Prior of
France,
Killed in the Trenches;
Megrim the
Engineer
Wounded in both his Arms, and sent to
Tournay,
[...] and
Vendosme hurt almost to death,
[...] in their Attacques upon the Horn-Works,
[...] lost at least above six thousand Men.
[A great Noise heard.
What Tumult can be this, which dares presume,
[Page 25] T'infest the Palace at this time of Day?
Enter a Messenger.
Messeng.
My Lord, my Lord, a most confused Rabble,
Of Men and Women, headed by the Abbots,
Old
Grimchi and
Vaneufe, are pressing forward,
And say that they have business with your Highness.
Prince.
I never lik'd the two fat
Abby Lubbers,
They're dangerous I fear—go, know their Business.
Exit Messenger.
I have a strange suspicion that these Villains
(
Forgive the word) have put th' unthinking Rabble
Upon the Project of Capitulation.
Re-enter the Messenger.
Messeng.
My Lord, they press upon the place so thick,
They have already fill'd the outward Courts,
Where loudly, every one of them, bauls out,
Surrender,
We'll hold no longer out, let's hear their Terms.
Prince.
Villains—but ah I want too bad a Name,
To brand 'em with—Betrayers of their Country,
What shall I call 'em?—Oh I am lost in passion;
These Priests have caus'd this Mischief; oh that
Lu
[...]ifer
Had took 'em all into his private Custody
[Shouts heard.
Before the Seige—the Torrent grows too high,
And faint resistance makes it flow the faster.
Nothing we want; our Arms and our Provisions
Hold out, the Souldiers too are valiant,
And nothing but the Priests and Burghers Cowards;
O
Priest-Craft, Shop-Craft! how do ye Effeminate
The Mind of Man.
[A Drum is heard upon the Walls and shooting.
Hah! do I hear a Drum?
Nay, then 'tis done, and
Mons is now no more;
The Plagues which did all
Aegypts Land infest,
Are nothing to the single plague of Priest.
[Exeu
[...]
ACT III. Scene 4.
Scence. The
French Camp; present the King, the
Dauphin Lovis, &c.
K. F.
My Nobles slain and wounded, with the Deaths
Of such a num'rous company of Souldiers,
Besides my Magazines of Forage spent,
And all this loss before a stubborn Town.
[A very great Shout heard.
Hah! what can this mean—yet my presaging hopes
Tell me, my golden Plott has ta'ne effect.
Enter a Trumpeter from D. Luxemburgh.
Trump.
Great Sir, the Town despairing of all Succour,
[...]s beating of a Parley on the Wall
This very instant.
F. K.
—Distract me not with Falshood;
[...]m glad to hear it tho—Now famous
Mons
[...] mine, and shall continue mine for ever.
Dauphine.
And may all refractory Towns that dare
[...]and out against your most victorious Arms
[...]eet the like Fortune, or a worser Fate.
F. K.
This is a glorious opening the Campaign;
[...]ow am just what a late Motto stil'd me,
[...]e against all; since with my single Force,
[...]id defiance to all
Europes Arms.
[...]alue not their Counsels at the
Hague,
[...]d scorn their most united Power more,
[...]rd of my self, and all Mankind beside.
[...]ch day I add fresh Lawrels to my Brows;
[...] Poets rack their Brains to make new Triumphs,
[...]d publick Joy resound through all the Camp,
[...]ilst I my self in Person go to view
[Page 27] The Flagg of Truce—and bless my Eyes! with gazing
Upon the Ruines of a Conquer'd Town,
Which adds another Ruby to my Crown.
ACT III. Scene 5.
The Scene opening, discovers the Burghers upon the Wall in great numbers, with a Flag of Truce, and a Drum beating.
Below in the Trenches stand Luxemburgh and Bouffleers, with with other Officers and Souldiers.
Luxem.
(—
Looking backward,) Command silence there.
(Looking up,)
Now your Demands.
1 Burg.
First Hostages must be exchanged.
Lux.
Ours are ready.
3 Burg.
And so are Ours.
[Exchange of Hostages is made.
Lux.
Where are your Articles of Capitulation?
2 Burg.
Here; but with most unwillingness we got 'em.
The Governour was at least two hours before he could be persuaded to set his hand to 'em.
1 Burg.
Would it not vex any Man to set his hand to a writing that conveys his Estate from him.
Lux.
None of your Preaching Mr.
Burgher, your Guns have spoke too loud already.
1 Burg.
Old
Fagel would not sign.
2 Burg.
'Tis a cross old basket hilted Officer.
And will you now my Lords perform these Articles sign'd on your part?
Lux.
Most inviolably.
Enter the French King incognito.
K. F.
How could I feast my Eyes with such a sight?
O
Mons, thou first-born of this Summers Conquests,
Thy Articles shall be as firmly kept
As all those other Contracts I have made.
[Exit.
Lux.
[Page 28]
Now let all hostile Actions cease between
[...] We all are friends, tho with some kind of sorrow;
The Garison we view march out to morrow.
[Scene
ACT. III. Scene 6.
The Scene discovers a Regiment of Horse drawn-up, and parted
[...] two Lines, through which Drums beating, and Colours flying, and
[...] at all Points; the Garison, march out, after them thirty cover'd
[...] gons, fifty Persons on Horseback in Masques, six pieces of Canon and two Mortars: After all the Prince
d'Bergue magnificently mounted with his Sword in his hand, and Attendance due to his Quality.—The Dauphin and Luxemburgh at the Head of the Regiment; —As he passes by the Dauphin, he makes three salutes with his Sword.
Prince.
Your Highness may believe 'tis with regret
I now surrender up this dear Lov'd Town;
Had not the Burghers with their Clamours deafen'd me,
I had not thus been forc'd to a Compliance.
Dauph.
My Lord, 'tis known you are too brave a Foe
To merit evil usage: We may pity,
But cannot now in justice help your Fortunes.
Your Souldiers fought like Men inspir'd with Courage;
Who could do less under so brave a General?
Your Conduct in the Siege all Tongues commend,
And pray esteem the
Dauphin as your Friend.
[Exeunt Omnes.
FINIS.