A King, and No King is a Webnovel created by Francis Beaumont and John Fletcher.
This lightnovel is currently ongoing.
If he have beaten him, I grant the case; But how? we cannot be too subtil in this business, I say, but how?
_Bes_.
Even with his Royal hand.
_1_.
Was it a blow of love, or indignation?
_Bes_.
‘Twas twenty blows of indignation, Gentlemen, Besides two blows o’th face.
_2_.
Those blows o’th’ face have made a new cause on’t, The rest were but an horrible rudeness.
_1_.
Two blows o’th’ face, and given by a worse man, I must confess, as the Sword-men say, had turn’d the business: Mark me brother, by a worse man; but being by his Prince, had they been ten, and those ten drawn teeth, besides the hazard of his nose for ever; all this had been but favours: this is my flat opinion, which I’le die in.
_2_.
The King may do much Captain, believe it; for had he crackt your Scull through, like a bottle, or broke a Rib or two with tossing of you, yet you had lost no honour: This is strange you may imagine, but this is truth now Captain.
_Bes_.
I will be glad to embrace it Gentlemen; But how far may he strike me?
_1_.
There is another: a new cause rising from the time and distance, in which I will deliver my opinion: he may strike, beat, or cause to be beaten: for these are natural to man: your Prince, I say, may beat you, so far forth as his dominion reacheth, that’s for the distance; the time, ten miles a day, I take it.
_2_.
Brother, you err, ’tis fifteen miles a day, His stage is ten, his beatings are fifteen.
_Bes_.
‘Tis the longest, but we subjects must–
_1_.
Be subject to it; you are wise and vertuous.
_Bes_.
Obedience ever makes that n.o.ble use on’t, To which I dedicate my beaten body; I must trouble you a little further, Gentlemen o’th’ Sword.
_2_.
No trouble at all to us Sir, if we may Profit your understanding, we are bound By vertue of our calling to utter our opinions, Shortly, and discreetly.
_Bes_.
My sorest business is, I have been kick’d.
_2_.
How far Sir?
_Bes_.
Not to flatter my self in it, all over, my sword forc’d but not lost; for discreetly I rendred it to save that imputation.
_1_.
It shew’d discretion, the best part of valour.
_2_.
Brother, this is a pretty cause, pray ponder on’t; Our friend here has been kick’d.
_1_.
He has so, brother.
_2_.
Sorely he saies: Now, had he set down here Upon the meer kick, ‘t had been Cowardly.
_1_.
I think it had been Cowardly indeed.
_2_.
But our friend has redeem’d it in delivering His sword without compulsion; and that man That took it of him, I p.r.o.nounce a weak one, And his kicks nullities.
He should have kick’d him after the delivering Which is the confirmation of a Coward.
_1_.
Brother, I take it, you mistake the question; For, say that I were kick’d.
_2_.
I must not say so; Nor I must not hear it spoke by the tongue of man.
You kick’d, dear brother! you’re merry.