2,74-2
THE
DRAMATIC WORKS AND POEMS
OP
SHIRLEY.
THE
DRAMATIC WORKS AND POEMS
OF
JAMES SHIRLEY/ i i4 /!/%
fm^^M
NOW FIRST COLLECTED ;
WITH NOTES BY THE LATE WILLIAM GIFFORD, ESQ.
AND
ADDITIONAL NOTES, AND SOME ACCOUNT OF SHIRLEY AND HIS WRITINGS,
BY THE REV. ALEXANDER DYCE.
IN SIX VOLUMES. VOL. V.
CONTAINING
THE GENTLEMAN OF VENICE.
THE POLITICIAN.
THE IMPOSTURE.
THE CARDINAL.
THE SISTERS. THE COURT SECRET.
LONDON : JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE STREET.
RJDCCCXXXIII.
PR
3HI O*.
1*33
LONDON : PRINTED BY W. NICOL, CLEVELAND ROW, ST. JAMES'S.
THE
GENTLEMAN OF VENICE.
VOL. V. B
THE GENTLEMAN OF VENICE.] This play was licensed in October, 1639 ; but not printed till 1655. Langbaine conjec- tures that the " intrigue" between Florelli, Cornari, and Claudi- ana, is borrowed from a novel in Gayton's Festivous Notes an Don Quixote, B. iv. ch, 6, 7, 8. The title of the old copy is, " The Gentleman of Venice, a Tragi-Comedie Presented at the Pri- vate house in Salisbury Court by her Majesties Servants. Written by James Shirley."
TO
THE HONOURABLE
SIR THOMAS NIGHTINGALE, BART.
SIR,
THE poem that approacheth to kiss your hand, had once a singular grace and lusirefrom the scene, when it enjoyed the life of action ; nor did it want the best hands to ap- plaud it in the theatre ; bnt nothing of these is consider- able, to the honour it mac/ receive now from your confirma- tion and acceptance.
I must acknowledge many years have passed since it did vagire in cu is, and when it. had gotten strength, and legs to walk, travelling without direction, it lost itself, till it was recovered after much inquisition, and now, upon the first return home, hath made this fortunate address, and application to your patronage, in which my ambition is satisfied.
I know this nation hnth been fruitful in names of emi- nent honour. But in these times, there be more lords than noblemen ; and while you are pleased to smile upon this piece, I most cheerfully throw myself and it upon your pro- tection, whose single worth to me is beyond all the boasted greatness and voluminous titles of our age.
Be pleased to read what is presented you, at an hour you will dedicate to recreation ; and preserve the author in your memory, whose highest desires are to make good the character of,
Sir,
the most humble among those that honour you.
JAMES SHIRLEY.
Bb2
DRAMATIS PERSONS *
Contarini, duke of Venice. Cornari, a gentleman of Venice.1 Florelli, the English gentleman.2 Malipiero, nephew to Cornari.3 Giovanni, supposed son of Roberto.* Tbomazo, the supposed son of the Duke.5
Roberto, the Duke's gardener.6 companions o
Georgio, servant of Roberto.
Senators, Gentlemen.
Bravos, Attendants, Servants, Officers.
Bellanra, the Duke's niece! Claudiana, wife to Cornari.8 Ursula, wife to Roberto.9 Rosabella, a courtezan.
SCENE, Venice.
* The old copy has the following, " small characters of the persons :"
1 Of a great fortune, but having no child, contrives to have an heir from his wife ; and against the nature and custom of the Italian, endears an English gentleman to her affection and society.
* Of a noble extraction and person, much honoured for his parts, by which he gained much reputation in the academies.
3 A man of a violent spirit, and hated by his uncle for his debaucheries.
4 Whose noble mind could not be suppressed in his low con- dition, and in love with Bellaura.
5 Whom no precepts nor education at court could form into honourable desires, or employments.
6 An humorous jolly old man.
7 Whom Giovanni passionately affected.
8 A lady of excellent beauty, ingratiated by her husband to Florelli, the English gentleman.
9 A froward woman, and who much doated upon Thomazo, her nurse-child.
THE
GENTLEMAN OF VENICE,
ACT I. SCENE I.
A Street, before Cornari's House.
Enter MALIPIERO, and knocks at the door.
Enter Servant.
Mai Where is my uncle, sirrah?
Serv. Not within.
Mai. Come hither, tell me truth.
Serv. He's gone abroad.
Mai. He has commanded your officious rogueship To deny him to me. [Kicks him.
Serv. What do you mean, sir?
Mai. To speak with my uncle, sirrah ; and these
kicks Shall fetch him hither.
Serv. Help ! [Runs in.
Mai. Your howling will Be his cue to appear.
Enter CORNARI.
Cor. What insolence is this?
Mai. No insolence; I did but correct your knave, Because I would not lose my labour, sir : I came to speak with you.
Cor. Shall I not be safe Within my house ? Hence !
Mai. I have not done yet.
6 THE GENTLEMAN OF VENICE. [Act L
Cor. You were best assault me too. Mai. I must borrow money, And that some call a striking ; but you are My very loving uncle, and do know How necessary it is your nephew should not Want, for your honour.
Cor. Hence ! T disclaim, And throw thee from my blood ; thou art a bastard.
Mai. Indeed you do lie, uncle ; and 'tis love, And reverence bids me say so. It would cost Dear, should the proudest gentleman of Venice Have call'd my mother whore ; but you shall only By the disburse of fifty ducats, take My anger off; and I'll be still your nephew, And drink your health, and my good aunt's. • Cor. Drink thy Confusion !
Mai. Heaven forbid your heir should so Forget himself, and lose the benefit Of such a fair estate as you have, uncle ! Shall I have gold for present use ?
Cor Not a zecchine.
Mai. Consider but what company I keep.
Cor. Things that lie like consumptions on their
family,
And will in time eat up their very name ; A knot of fools and knaves.
Mai. Take heed, be temperate ; A hundred ducats else will hardly satisfy. The duke's own son, signior Thomazo, will not Blush to be drunk, sir, in my company.
Cor. He is corrupted Amongst diseases like thyself, become His father's shame and sorrow, and hath no Inheritance of his noble nature.
Mai. You
Were best call him [a] bastard too! — The money I modestly demanded; and that quickly,
Sc.L] THE GENTLEMAN OF VENICE. 7
And quietly, before I talk aloud ; I may be heard to the palace else.
Cor. Thou heard!
Were treason talk'd, I believe thy testimony Would hold no credit against the hangman ; — but I lose too precious time in dialogue with thee : To be short, therefore, know —
Mai. Very well, to the point.
Cor. I will consume all my estate myself.
Mai. You do not know the ways without in- struction.
Cor. I will be instructed then.
Mai I do like that;
Let's join societies, and I'll be satisfied : Let me have part in the consuming of The money, that does mould, for want of sun- beams,
Within your musty coffers, I'll release you. You have no swaggering face ; but I can teach Your very looks to make a noise ; and if You cannot drink or game, we'll have devices : You may have whores ; I, that but live in hope After your death, keep twelve in pension ; They wear my livery ; I'll resign the leverets, I can have more. I have a list of all The courtezans in Venice,1 which shall tumble, And keep their bugle-bows for thee, dear uncle : We'll teach thee a thousand ways.
Cor. It shall not need ; I shall take other courses with my wealth, And none of you shall share in't. I have a humour To turn my money into hospitals ; Your riots come not thither.
* The courtezans in Venice, &c.] There is much grave inde- cency on this passage in the notes to Henry V. The particular word does not occur in the text which the Editor followed; but it was too tempting to be overlooked, even though rejected by the author.
8 THE GENTLEMAN OF VENICE. \Act I.
Mai. But we may ;
Drink and diseases are the ways to that too. — But will you turn a master of this college You talk of, uncle, this same hospital ? And lay out money, to buy wooden legs For crippled men of war? invite,, to your cost, Men that have lost their noses in hot service ? Live and converse with rotten bawds and bone- setters ?
Provide pensions for surgery, and hard words, That eat like corrosives, and more afflict The patient ? But you'll save charges ; I consider My aunt, your wife —
Car. How dar'st thou mention her With thy foul breath?
Mai. May be excellent at composing Of med'cines for corrupted lungs, imposthumes ; At making plaisters, diet-drinks ; and in charity, Will be a great friend to the pox.
Cor. Thou villain !
Mai. And you'll be famous by't. I may in time, As I said before, if lust and wine assist me, Grow unsound too, and be one of her patients ; And have an office after in her household, To prepare lint and sear- cloths, empty veins, And be controller of the crutches. — Oh, The world would praise the new foundation Of such a pest-house, and the poor souls drink Your health at every festival in hot porridge.
Cor. Art thou of kin to me ?
Mai. I think I am ;
As near as your brother's eldest son, who had No competent estate from his own parents, And for that reason by wise nature was Ordain'd to be your heir, that have enough, uncle. The fates must be obey'd ; and while your land Is fasten'd to my name, for want of males, Which, I do hope, if my aunt hold her barrenness,
Sc. I.] THE GENTLEMAN OF VENICE. 9
You will never bang out of her sheaf, I may Be confident to write myself your nephew.
Cor. Thou hast no seeds of goodness in thee ; —
but I may find ways to cross your hopeful interest.
Mai. You'll find no seeds in my aunt's parsly-
bed,
I hope, and then I'm safe ; but take your course : Supply me for the present, for your honour — The ducats, come !
Cor. You are cozened.
Mai. As you would not
Have me pull down this house when you are dead And build a stews, — the ducats., come !
Cor. Thou coward !
Mai. Because I do not cut your throat? that
were The way to disinherit myself quaintly.
Cor. Canst thou not steal, and so deserve a hanging ?
Mai. Yes, I can, and am often tempted ; but I
will not
Do you that mighty wrong, to let what you have So long, and with so little conscience, gather'd, Be lost in confiscation by my felony. I know a way worth ten on't ; yet thus much I'll bind it with an oath, when I turn thief Your gold shall be the first I will make bold with ; In the mean time, lend me the trifling ducats, And do not trouble rue.
Cor. Not a moccenigo,2 To save thee from the gal lies.
Mai. No?— The gallies !
Must I shift still? Remember, and die shortly; I'll live, I will, and rather than not be Reveng'd on thy estate, I will eat roots, Coarse ones, I mean ; love, and undo an herbwife
* Not a moccenigo,] See Jonson, vol. iii. p. 218.
10 THE GENTLEMAN OF VENICE. [Act I
With eating up her sallads ; live, and lap Only in barley-water ; think on't yet. I am now for wine ; you know not what that heat May do ; the injury being so fresh, I may Return, and you'll repent.
Cor. 'Tis more than I Can hope of thee. Go to your rabble, sir.
Mai. You a gentleman of Venice ! but remem- ber ;
A pox upon your wealth ! I will do something To deserve the halter, that I may disgrace The house I came on ; and at my execution Make such a speech, as, at the report, thou shalt Turn desperate, and with the remnant of My cord go hang thyself; and that way forfeit All thy estate when I am dead : — I'll do Or this, or something worse, to be reveng'd. [Exit.
Re-enter Servant.
Cor. He's lost ! this doth new fire my resolu- tion.—
See if your mistress be yet ready, sirrah ; Say I expect her.— [Exit Serv.
My blood is almost in a fever with My passion, — but Claudiana may cure all ; Whom I have wrought with importunity To be spectator at the exercise This day i' the Academy. Here she comes.—
Enter CLAUDIANA. Art ready ?
Clau. Ever to obey you, sir ; But if you would consider yet, you may Be kind, and let me stay : I dare not think You are less careful of my honour ; but You gave once command, with my consent too, Not to be seen too much abroad.
&.I.] THE GENTLEMAN OF VENICE. 11
Cor. I did,
I must confess, Claudiana ; I had thoughts And scruples, which thy innocence hath clear'd ; And though our nice Italians every where Impose severely on their wives, I should Be unjust to make thee still a prisoner to Thy melancholy chamber : take the air, 'Tis for thy health ; and while I wait upon thee, Thou art above the tongue and wound of scandal.
Clau. I know your presence takes off all disho- nour; But—
Cor. No more, I charge thee, by thy love ; And to convince 3 all arguments against it, I have provided so, thou shalt observe, Unseen, the bold contentions of art, And action.
Clau. I'm not well.
Cor. I shall be angry
]f my desires be play'd withal. Pretend not, With purpose to delude me ; I have blessings Stored in thy health : but if you practise any Infirmity to cross my will, that aims At the security of thy health and honour —
Clau. Sir, you shall steer me.
Cor. This becomes Claudiana ; I will thank thee in a kiss. — [goes to the doorJ] — Prepare the gondola !
Serv. [within."] — It waits.
Cor. And I on thee, The treasure of my eyes and heart. [Exeunt.
* And to convince] i. e. subdue, overthrow. In this sense the word is frequently used by our old poets.
12 THE GENTLEMAN OF VENICE. [Actl.
SCENE II.
The Duke's Gardens.
Enter ROBERTO, URSULA, and GEORQIO.
Rob. Where is my son Giovanni, sirrah?
Geor. He went two hours ago to the Academy, To see the exercise to-day.
Urs. How's that ?
What business has he there, pray, amongst gen- tlemen? He does presume too much.
Rob. Patience, good Ursula.
Urs. You give him too much rein ; it would be- come him
To follow his profession, and not look after Those gentlemanly sports.
Rob. No tempest, wife $ No thundering, Ursula. Am not I the duke's Chief gardener, ha? and shall I make my son A drudge, confine him here to be an earth-worm ; Live like a mole, or make it his last blessing, To plant and order quickset ? Let him walk, And see the fashions.
Urs. He has cost you sweetly To bring him up ! What use had he of learning? What benefit, but to endanger us, And with his poring upon books at midnight, To set the house on fire? Let him know how To rule a spade, as you have done.
Rob. He does so ;
And knows how to inoculate, my Ursula ; My nimble tongue, no more. Because he read The story of Xantippe t' other night, That could out-talk a drum, and sound a point Of war to her husband, honest Socrates,
&. II.] THE GENTLEMAN OF VENICE. 13
You took a pet He shall abroad sometimes, And read and write till his head ache. Go to.
Urs. So, so ! the duke's garden shall be then Well look'd to ! he deserves a pension, For reading Amadis de Gaul, and Guzman, And don Quixote ; but I'll read him a lecture !
Rob. You will? Offer but [once] to bark at him, And I will send him to the university, To anger thee ; nay, he shall learn to fence too, And fight with thee, at twenty several weapons, Except thy two-edged tongue : a little thing Would make me entertain a dancing-master. Peace ! or I wrill destroy thy kitchen, Ursula, Disorder all'thy trinkets, and, instead Of brass and pewter, hang up viol-de-gambos : — I'll set an organ up at thy beoVs head, And he shall play upon't. What! tyrannical To thy own flesh and blood ! to Giovanni ! My heir, my only boy ! — Fetch me a tailor ; He shall have new clothes, and no more be warm With the reversion of your petticoats. Do not provoke me. What! imperious? Get you in, or I will swinge you ; go, and weed.
Urs. Now for vexation could I cry my heart out.
[Exit.
Rob. Sirrah, stay you : — and is Giovanni gone To the Academy, say'st ?
Geor. Yes, sir; they say There is an English gentleman, that wins The garland from them all at every exercise. One of the court told my young master on't, (As he enquires of every gentleman ' Comes into the garden, what's the news abroad?)
Rob. And does he not tell thee tales, and dainty
stories Sometimes ?
Geor. Oh, of Tamberlane, and the great Turk,
and all His concubines : he knows them to a hair.
14 THE GENTLEMAN OF VENICE. [Act I.
He is more perfect in the Chronicles, Than I am in my prayers.
Rob. I do believe't.
Geor. And talks a battle, as he were among
them ;
He tickles all your turbans, and in a rage, Wishes he had the cutting of their cabbages, To shew what house he came on.
Rob. Ha ! my boy !
Geor. Oh, sir, he has a pestilent memory ; He told me t'other day there was another World in the moon, and that the world we live in Shines like to that, to people that live there : How many miles it is about the earth ;' How many to the stars. I fear he will Be mad, if he read much — 'tis just like raving — 4 And such hard words would choke me to repeat them.
Rob. He never tells me this.
Geor. We are familiar. You are his father, and he dares not lie To you ; to me he may talk any thing : He knows my understanding to an inch. — Would you would speak to him, though, to take
• a little
More pains ! 'tis I do all the droil, the dirt- work. When I am digging, he is cutting unicorns And lions in some hedge, or else devising New knots upon the ground, drawing out crowns, And the duke's arms, castles, and cannons in them ; Here gal lies, there a ship giving a broadside. Here out of tuff he carves a senator, With all his robes, making a speech to Time,5
4 'tis just like raving — ] The old copy reads, " like
ravening."
5 This is a very pleasant piece of satire upon the fantastic pursuits of the fashionable topiarii of the poet's days. They survived the attack, however, to fall with more dignity by the hands of Pope and Addison. The turf senator haranguing Time (thyme) is not the worst of the poet's conundrums.
Sc. II.] THE GENTLEMAN OF VENICE. 15
That grows hard by, and twenty curiosities. I think he means to embroider all the garden Shortly ; but T do all the coarse work. — Here's My mistress again !
Re-enter URSULA.
Rob. What ! is the storm laid ?
Urs. I must be patient, [aside.] — Your son's not come yet.
Rob. Why, now thou art Ursa Major! love thy
whelp, And we are friends.
Urs. Was not the duke's son here ? I fear he is sick, that I have not seen him These two days in the garden.
Geor. There's a gentleman !
Urs. Ay, there's a gentleman indeed ! I dream'd on him last night ; pray heaven he be In health ! I prithee make enquiry. — There's a gentleman, an you talk of a gentleman !
Geor. Signior Thomazo ?
Rob. Where is he ?
Geor. I know not ; but my mistress would send
me, To know the state of his body.
Rob. Why, how now, Ursula? — Sirrah, about
your business,
And spare that inquisition. — What hath Your impudence to do with the duke's son ?
Urs. Have not I to do, that gave him suck ? I hope I was his nurse, and it becomes me To enquire of his health ; he is the very pearl Of courtesy ; not proud, nor coy, I warrant you, But gentle as my Sunday muff.
Rob. Your cony-skin.
Urs: I am the better when I look upon him. There's a gentleman, an you talk of a gentleman ! So complete, so affable ! a scholar too,
16 THE GENTLEMAN OP VENICE. [Act I
If I could understand him. — Prithee, sweetheart, Get me with child, that I may long a little.
Rob. For a piece of the duke's son ?
Urs. I shall ne'er forget how prettily He took the nipple, and would play, and prattle
himself
Asleep, I warrant you ; but he's now a man, A great man, and he remembers me still. — There's a gentleman, an you talk of a gentleman !
Rob. The woman doats. [Exeunt.
SCENE III.
A Street. Enter MARINO and CANDIANO, at opposite sides.
Mar. Whither so fast ?
Can. To the Academy.
Mar. Spare Your haste ; all's done.
Can. Who has the vote to-day ?
Mar. The English gentleman is still victorious ; All praises flow upon him : he has depos'd Our city, which hath now resigned her laurel.
Enter FLORELLI, and other Gentlemen.
Can. Is not this he ?
Mar. The same ; in's face the promise Of a most noble nature.
tlo. Gentlemen,
Pray give me leave to understand your language ; For this, so much above me, scarce will be (When I'm less ignorant) worth my thanks.
1 Gent. This is,
Sc. III.] THE GENTLEMAN OF VENICE. 17
We know, pretence of modesty ; we must Congratulate your triumph.
Flo. For this time
I'll be content your praises shall abuse me. — Who are these ?
Mar. Friends, and honourers of your worth.
Flo. I see that courtesy is native here ; All the reward I can return, must be To speak abroad the nobleness of Venice, For so much grace to an unworthy stranger.
Can. The duke himself!
Enter Duke, THOMAZO, Senators, and MALIPIERO.
Duke. We must resolve to send new forces, And speedily, the flame will else endanger Venice itself.
Sen. This town lost, will encourage The insulting Genoese.
Duke. Thomazo!
Tho. Sir.
Duke. I look when you will ask me leave to trail A pike, and purchase honour in these wars.
Tho. I have not been well [, sir,] since I was last Let blood, and therefore, if you please, I would Be excus'd till the next wars, and then have at
them ; By that time I shall be a better rapier- man.
Duke. This fool is the dishonour of my blood ; He declines all that's noble, and obeys A base and vulgar appetite : he dwells Like a disease within my name ; but 'tis Heaven's punishment. — What are they ?
Mar. All strangers ; but among them one In whom you may read something worth your grace, An English gentleman.
Duke. He to whom fame
VOL. v. C
18 THE GENTLEMAN OF VENICE. [Act I
Gives the honour of our exercises ? Nature With such an active heat might have built up My son ; but he is curst to live a shadow. —
[Mar, leads Flo. to kiss the duke's hand. Welcome, sir, to Venice,
Tho. He shall kiss my hand too. — I am the
duke's son. Flo. You honour me. Duke. Thomazo, give that gentleman A box o' the ear.
Tho He will not take it kindly; He is one —
Duke. Will strike again ; is not that it ? Tho. I would not use a stranger so discourte- ously, Or else —
Duke. Embrace him, then, and make yourself
worthy of His friendship and converse; you'll gain more
honour
Than the empty title of your birth can bring you. — But to the great affair, the war ; your counsels.
[Exeunt Duke, Senators, and Mar. Tho. My father bids me embrace you, sir. Flo. 1 shall Be proud when I can do you any service.
Tho. Gentlemen, pray know me every one ; I am the duke's son, my name's signior Thomazo. Gent. You do us too great honour. Mai. We had no object worth our envy, sir, Till you arriv'd ; you have at once dishonoured And made our Venice fortunate.
Tho. Malipiero, Let's bid them welcome in rich wine.
Mai. I attend you, sir. — This fellow must not live to boast his trophies ; He may supplant me too, if he converse Too freely with Thomazo, whose coarse wit
&. I.] THE GENTLEMAN OF VENICE. 19
Is all the stock I live by. [aside.] — Please you,
gentlemen. To walk ?
Gent. We follow.
Tho. I would not have the way, But that you are a stranger.
Gent. It becomes you. [Exeunt.
ACT II. SCENE I.
The Duke's Gardens. Enter CORNARI and CLAUDIANA.
Clau. I have obey'd you, sir.
Cor. Thou hast done well, My Claudiana, very well ; who dare Traduce thee for't? am I not careful of thee ? — I prithee give me thy opinion, Who deserv'd best of all the gentlemen ?
Clau. I have not art enough to judge.
Cor. Butthou
Hast fancy, and a liberal thought, that may Bestow thy praise on some or other. Tell me, If thou had'st been to give the garland, prithee Whose head should wear it ? Though we have
not judgment
To examine and prepare our justice, yet Where men contend for any victory, Affection may dispose us, and by some Secret in nature, we do still incline To one, and guard him with our wishes.
Clau. I hope This is but mirth ?
C2
20 THE GENTLEMAN OF VENICE. [Aclll.
Cor. By my regard to thy Fair honour, nothing else ; it shall not rise To a dispute. Who has the vote to-day Of all the gentlemen ? I must know.
Clau. They are To me indifferent.
Cor. So is my question ; but I must have more ; It cannot be but some man must deserve More print and poise in thy opinion : Speak, as thou lov'st me, Claudiana.
Clau. Sir,
Your inquisition is not without change Of looks upon me ; and those smiles you ask with, Are not your own, I fear.
Cor. Nay, then you dally, And undo that obedience I so much Commended.
Clau. Dear Cornari.
Cor. Yet again ? The man ; tell me the man.
Clau. Whatman?
Cor. The gentleman That best deserves, in thy opinion. I shall be angry : — what ! deny to give me This trivial satisfaction ? the expense Of a little breath ? Why do you tremble so ?
Clau. Alas ! I know not what to answer ; this Must needs engender fears in my cold bosom, That my poor honour is betray'd , and I Stand in your thoughts suspected of some guilt I never understood. If the report Of malice have abus'd me to your ear (For by yourself I am all innocent)—
Cor. What do you mean, Claudiana ?
Clau. Sir, your question Hath frighted me ; 'tis strange, and killing to My tender apprehension.
Cor. You're a fool
&.I.] THE GENTLEMAN OF VENICE. 21
To be thus troubled ; and but that I know The purity of thy faith to me, this language Would make me jealous; 'tis an ill-dress'd passion, And paleness, that becomes not Claudiana To wear upon her modest cheek. I see Thy heart sick in thy eyes ; be wise, and cure it. My question was but mirth, without the sense Of the least scruple in myself, or meaning To discompose one cheerful look.
Clau. Your pardon.
Cor. And you as safely might have answer'd me, As I had casually ask'd the time o' the day, What dressing you delight in, or what gown You most affect to wear,
Clau. Once more I ask you pardon ; you restore
me,
And I am now secur'd by your clear goodness, To give ray weak opinion —
Cor. Of the man
That did appear in thy thoughts to deserve Most honour.
Clau. You'll excuse a woman's verdict — My voice is for the stranger, sir.
Cor. Why, so !
You like him best. What horror was in this Poor question, now ? You mean the Englishman ?
Clau. The same, most graceful in his parts and person.
Cor. Tis well ; I'm satisfied ; and we both meet In one opinion too ; he is indeed The bravest cavalier : what hurt's in all This, now ? I see you can distinguish. Wert thou A virgin, Claudiana, thou would'stfind Gentle and easy thoughts to entertain So promising a servant : I should be Taken with him myself, were I a lady, And lov'd a man.
Clau. How's this? my fears return.
22 THE GENTLEMAN OF VENICE. [Act II.
Enter behind, BELLAURA and GEORGIO.
Cor. Madam Bellaura, the duke's charge, is
enter'd The garden ; let us choose another walk.
[Exeunt Cor. and Claud.
Bell. Why, you are conceited, sirrah ; does wit grow in this garden ?
Geor. Yea, madam, while lam in't ; I am a slip myself.
Bell. Of rosemary or thyme] Geor. Of wit, sweet madam. Bell. 'Tis pity but thou should'st be kept with
watering. Geor. There's wit in every flower, if you can
gather it.
Bell. I am of thy mind.— But what's the wit, prithee, of yonder tulip? Geor. You may read there the wit of a young
courtier.
Bell. What's that?
Geor. Pride, and show of colours ; a fair pro- mising, Dear when 'tis bought, and quickly comes to
nothing.
Bell. The wit of that rose ? Geor. If you attempt,
Madam, to pluck a rose, I shall find a moral in't. Bell. No country wit.1 Geor. That grows with potherbs, and poor roots,
which here
Would be accounted weeds, coarse things of profit, Whose end is kitchen physic, and sound health ; Two things not now in fashion,
1 No country wit.] i. e. no coarse or indelicate wit. This is the meaning of the expression in Hamlet, which the commen- tators have so shamefully perverted.
Sc. I.] THE GENTLEMAN OF VENICE. 23
Bell. Your wit dances. Where learn 'd you all these morals ?
Geor I but glean
From n;y young master, Giovanni, madam. He'll run division upon every flower ; He has a wit able to kill the weeds, And ripen all the fruit in the duke's orchard.
Bell. Where is Giovanni?
Geor. He went betimes to the Academy. He is at all the exercises ; we Shall have such news when he comes home !
Bell Why does
Your master (being rich) suffer his son To work i' the garden?
Geor. My master! he's an honest mortal, madam ; It is my mistress that commands him to't, A shrew, and loves him not ; but 'tis no matter ; I have the better company. — He's here.
Enter GIOVANNI.
I'll leave him to you, madam ; I must now Water my plants. [Exit.
Bell. Why, how now, Giovanni ! you frequent, I hear, the Academies?
Oiov. When I can dispense, Madam, with time, and these employments, I Intrude, a glad spectator, at those schools Of wit and action ; which, although I cannot Reach, I am willing to admire, and look at, With pity of myself, lost here in darkness.
Bell. By this expression I may conceive How much you have improv'd, and gain'd a lan- guage Courtly, and modest.
Giov. Madam, you are pleas'd To make my uneven frame of words your mirth. I profess nothing but an humble ignorance ;
24 THE GENTLEMAN OF VENICE. \Acl II.
And I repent not, if by any way
(My duty and manners safe) it may delight you.
Bell. Indeed, Giovanni, I am pleas'd; but not With your suspicion, that my praises are Other than what become my ingenuous meaning : For, if I understand, I like your language ; But with it I commend your modest spirit.
Giov. It is an honour, madam, much above My youth's ambition ; but if I possess A part of any knowledge you have deign'd To allow, it owes itself unto this school.
Bell. What school?
Giov. This garden, madam ; 'tis my academy, Where gentlemen and ladies (as yourself, The first and fairest, durst I call you mistress,) Enrich my ear and observation With harmony of language, which at best 1 can but coldly imitate.
Bell. Still more courtly ! Why, how now, Giovanni, you will be Professor shortly in the art of complement ; You were best quit the garden, and turn courtier.
Giov. Madam, I think upon the court with re- verence ;
My fate is to adore it afar off It is a glorious landscape, which I look at As some men with their narrow optic glasses Behold the stars, and wonder at [those] vast (Though unknown) habitable worlds of brightness. But were my eye a nearer judge, and I Admitted to a clearer knowledge, madam, Of the court life, there I might find the truth of Man's best ideas, and enjoy the happiness, Now only mine by naked speculation. I think how there I should throw off my dust, And rise a new creation.
Bell. The court Is much beholding to you, Giovanni.
&. I.] THE GENTLEMAN OF VENICE. 25
Giov. It is a duty, madam, I owe truth.
Bell, A truth in supposition all this while.
Giov. I should be sad if my experience should Betray an error in my faith ; and yet So soft and innocent a trespass, madam, Might well expect a pardon.
Bell. Some that have Freely enjoy'd the pleasures, or what else You so advance in court, have at the last Been weary, and accus'd their gay condition, Nay, chang'd their state, for Such an humble life As you profess, a gardener.
Giov. I despise not
What I was born to, madam ; but I should Imagine the disease lay in the mind, Not in the courtier, that would throw away So spacious a blessing to be servile.
Bell. You know not, Giovanni, your own hap- piness,
Nor the court sins ; the pride and surfeits there Come not within your circle ; there are few Pursue those noble tracks your fancy aims at ; It is a dangerous sea to launch into, Both shelves and rocks you see not, aye, and mer- maids.
Giov. What are they, madam ?
Bell. You have heard of mermaids ?
Giov. You mean not women, 1 hope, madam?
Bell. Yes.
Giov. Oh, do not, by so hard an application, Increase the poet's torment, that first made That fabulous story to disgrace your sex. You're firm, and the fair seal of the great maker, A print next that of an gels.
Bell. We are bound t' ye : If our cause want a flourish, you have art To make us shew fair.
Giov. And you are so ;
26 THE GENTLEMAN OF VENICE. [Act II.
'Tis malice dares traduce you, or blind ignorance, That throws her stains, which fall off from your
figures ;
For those which weaker understandings call Your spots, are ermines ; and can such as these Darlings <?f heaven and nature, women, shoot At court an influence like unlucky planets? They cannot, sure ; why, you live, madam, there, That are enough to prove all praise a truth ; And by a sweet example, make them all Such as you are, objects of love and wonder : Oh, then how blest are they that live at court, With freedom to converse with so much virtue As your fair sex embraceth !
Enter URSULA.
Bell. Here's your mother.
Giov. She was too hasty. [Aside.
Urs. Madam, I hope you! I pardon my son's
rudeness, To hold discourse with your ladyship.
Bell. 'Tis a courtesy ; And he talks well to pass away the time, Exceeding well : but I must to my guardian, The duke. [Exit.
Urs. Happiness attend your ladyship ! — Now, sir, what are you thinking of?
Giov. Your pardon, nothing. [Going.
Urs. Nay, stay ; I must talk with you myself: But first, what talk had you with my lady ?
Giov. She was pleas'd to ask some questions.
Urs. What were they?
Giov. 1 have forgot.
Urs. You have forgot ! you are a lewd And saucy boy. Go to ; your father spoils you.
Sc. L] THE GENTLEMAN OF VENICE. 27
Enter ROBERTO and GEORGIO.
But if you use me, sirrah, o' this fashion, I'll break your pate, I will ; the duke's own son, (My blessing on him !) would not answer me With, I have forgot! I warrant you ; but you— Rob. Why, how now, Ursula? — what! perpe- tual clamours ? Urs. Oh, here's your stickler. Giov Nothing unkind to me ; She was angry with your servant Georgio, And threaten'd to break his head. — Away !
Geor. My head ? come heels. [Exit.
Rob. Was it but so? she shall; she shall do
that,
With all my heart, and I will break it too. Urs. Nay, then, I will be friends with him. Rob. Where is the knave? Urs. I will not be compelled to break his head, An you were twenty husbands. Fare you well.
[Exit. Rob. 'Tis such a wasp ! but she shall not wrong
thee.
Giov. I know she will not, sir ; she is my mo- ther.— She comes again.
Re-enter URSULA, followed by THQMAZO, MALI- PI ERO, BERNARDO, and MARCELLO.
Urs. My heart does leap to see you.
Rob. The duke's son, and a troop of gallants !
but
I always have sore eyes to see one there, That signior Malipiero ; he does owe me Already forty crowns, and I forgive him.
28 THE GENTLEMAN OF VENICE. [Act II.
Mai. Signior Roberto, remember that I owe You forty crowns.
Rob. Pray, do you forget them.
Mai. I never pay till it come to a hundred.
Rob. Never pay! it is no matter, signior. — I were best be gone before he borrow more ; It is a trick he uses to put on With his rich clothes ; I'll vanish. [Exit.
Mai. Strange, this Englishman appears not.
Urs. I was afraid you had been sick, my lord.
Tho. I was never sick in my life, but when I had a fever, or some other infirmity. I'll call thee nurse still. — Giovanni !
Giov. Sir.
Tho. Thou look'st like a changeling.
Giov. The more is my misfortune. You are the duke's son. [Exit.
Tho. Who can help it? — Nurse !
Urs. He was never courteous to women. Here's a gentleman, an they talk of a gentleman ! Now could I weep for joy. — I must take my leave, sir,
Tho. 1 must make bold with my nurse.
[Kisses her.
Urs. Blessings on thy heart ! — How sweetly he
kisses ! Here was a touch for a lady ! [Exit.
Tho. Go thy ways ;
An admirable twanging lip ; pity thou art A thought too old. Ha, wagtail !
Ber. Does he come alone ?
Mai. Alone ; be you resolute ; When you see me draw, shoot all your points Into his heart.
Ber. Be confident.
Mar. Unless
He be steel-proof, he shall not boast abroad Much victory in Venice.
Sc. I.] THE GENTLEMAN OF VENICE. 29
Re-enter GIOVANNI, with FLORELLI.
Giov. Senior Thomazo, sir, is there.
Flo. I thank you.
Giov. You pay too much, sir, for no service.
Tho. Here he is ! —
We were wagering thou would'st not keep thy promise.
Flo. I durst not make that forfeit of your grace ; I most consult my own, when I am careful To wait upon your honour.
Mai. You are noble.
Flo. Your humble servant, gentlemen.
Tho. Where didst sup?
Flo. I was not willing to engage myself Abroad, lest I might trespass on your patience.
Tho. What shalPs do this evening ?
Mai Walk a turn, And then to a bonaroba.
Ber. A match !
Tho. Giovanni, Thy spade, and hold my cloak.
Mai. What's the device?
Tho. I have great mind to dig now ; dost think
I cannot
Handle a spade? I'll make a bed with my gen- tlemen now, For a hundred ducats.
Mai. 'Tis a base employment, Fit for such a drudge as Giovanni
Giov. Sir!
Mai. A drudge, I said. Do you scorn your little dunghill breed1? Giov. This is not noble.
Mai. How, mole-catcher!
Flo. Forbear, he is not arm'd.
30 THE GENTLEMAN OF VENICE. [Act II.
Mai. You were best be his champion.
[Mai. Ber. and Marc, draw their swords ;
Florelli stands on his defence. Tho. Are you good at that?
I do not love to wear my doublet pink'd. [Exit. Giov. Three against one ?
[Giovanni recovers a sicord, having first used his spade , to side with Florelli : Bernardo having lost his weapon, flies. Mai. Hold!
Giov. I am no drudge, you'll find, To be commanded, sir ; you painted flies, And only fit for t routs !
Flo. Let's give them play, and breath.
Mai. Lost our advantage ! Is Thomazo fled??
Mar. And Bernardo : we were best retire ; that
gardener
Will stick me into [the] ground, else, for a plant.
[Exit.
Mai. Expect we'll be reveng'd. [Exit.
Giov. Let's prevent them. Flo. They are not worth it, Giovanni — so I heard you nam'd.
Giov. My name is Giovanni. Flo. Thou hast relieved, and sav'd my life ; I find Their base conspiracy : what shall I pay Thy forward rescue ?
Giov. fTis but what I owe To justice, with the expense of blood and life, To prevent treachery ; reward I have Receiv'd i' the act, if I have done you service. But 'twas your innocence that made such haste To your own valour, not my sword, preserv'd you : I am young, and never taught to fight.
Flo. I prithee
Accept this trifle ; buy a sword, and wear it ; Thou hast deserv'd to thrive a nobler way Than thy condition shews. {Offers him money.
&.I.] THE GENTLEMAN OF VENICE. 31
Giov. Though some would call This bounty, urge it not to my disgrace ; I scorn to sell the motion of my arm ! I fear you are not safe yet ; there may be Danger in following them, and it grows dark: Have patience while I fetch a key, that shall Befriend you with a private way" [Exit.
Flo. Thou'rt noble.—
Though I am careless where the terms of honour Engage my life, 'tis wisdom not to lose it Upon their base revenge : but I must study Some other payment for this young man's courage. Howe'er his body suffer in a cloud, His spirit's not obscure, but brave and active.
Enter behind, CORN AW, followed by several Bravos,
armed.
Cor. If my intelligence fail not, he must be Here still. This evening hath put on a vizard To conspire with me. — There he walks ; surprise
him. [They seize upon Florelli9 bind his arms and
feet, and cover his head with, a bag. Flo. Villains! cowards! slaves! my sword. Bravo. If you be loud, we'll strangle you. Cor. Despatch! Bravo. We have done, sir ; is he for the river,
now?1 Cor. No ; follow me. [Exeunt with Flo.
Re-enter GIOVANNI.
Giov. These shew like officers. Alas ! he's apprehended on their base
1 Is he for the river now ?] These words strongly and cha- racteristically express the cool indifference with which these villains traffic in blood. The same question would be asked at Venice, with the same composure, at this hour.
32 THE GENTLEMAN OF VENICE. [Act II
Complaint; I cannot help : thycause, and innocence
Must now befriend thee ! — Base world ! yet I may
Injure the parts abroad ; 'tis only Venice
Is sick with these distempers : then I'll leave it,
And instantly pursue some other fate
I* the wars ; it may cure something too within me,
That is denied all remedy at home.
Some bodies, for their physic, are design'd
To change of air, I'll try't upon my mind. [Exit.
ACT III. SCENE I.
The Rialto.
Enter MALIPIERO and THOMAZO.
Tho. Not this Englishman to be found ?
Mai. He's not above ground Where I could suspect him in the city.
Tho, Let him go ; may be his haste toppled him Into the river, and we may eat his nose In the next haddock.
Mai. Wherefore did you fly?
Tho. Dost think 'twas fear ?
Mai. 'Twas something like a will To keep your skin from oilet-holes.
Tho. I grant you ; What had 1 to do to bring up a fashion?
Mai. We might have gone a sure and nearer way, To have kill'd him in a right line with a bullet. — But let him go, so he quit Venice, any way.
Tho. He would spoil our mirth ; but I much
wonder
Bernardo is not come yet, whom 1 sent Ambassador for money to the merchants.
Sc. L] THE GENTLEMAN OF VENICE. 33
Mai. Nor Marcel lo, whom 1 em ploy 'd to the
same end, To my most costive uncle, for some goldfinches.
Tlio. Why should The state have an exchequer, and we want ?
Mai. For pious uses too, to drink their health ; And see the commonwealth go round, In mutual commerce of mirth and spirit, Which phlegm and usury have almost stifled. Sobriety and long gowns spoil the city : 'Tis we would keep the body politic From stinking, ulcer'd with long obligations, And notaries, which now stuff the Rialto, And poison honest natures, that would else Live freely, and be drunk at their own charge.
Tho. I would make new laws, an I were duke of Venice.
Mai. We would not sit o' the chimney corner
then, And sing like crickets.
Mai We would roar like trumpets, And deaf the senators with, Give us your monies!
Mai. Their's ? Give us our own ! their states,
their wives, And wardrobes, Scanderbeg.
Tho. And their pretty daughters, My valiant Turk ! who should feed high o' pur- pose—
Mai. To keep the wanton blood in titillations.
Tho. It should be a law, no maid should be in fashion.
MaL Yes, let them be in fashion, but not hold.
Tho. Not after fourteen, — be it then enacted.
MaL We would banish all the advocates that
refus'd To pimp, and prove it civil law.
Tho. No scribe Should dare to shew his ears in our dominions.
VOL. v, D
34 THE GENTLEMAN OF VENICE. [Act III.
Mai. Hang them ! they are labels of the law,
and stink
Worse than a fish-shambles in Lent. No Jew Should turn a Christian, upon peril of A confiscation.
Tho. Why?
Mai. The slaves are rich :
To turn them Christians were to spoil their consci- ence,
And make them hide their money ; 'tis less evil In [a] state to cherish Jews, than Christian usurers.
Tho. I will have every citizen a Jew then.
Mai. We have built no seraglio yet.
Tito. That's true ; What think you of the universities? Would not they serve ?
Mai. O, excellent ; They have several schools for several games.
Tho. And scaffolds For the spectators, when we keep our acts.
Mai. The college rents would find the wenches
petticoats ;
And the revenues of a score of Abbies Well stripped, would serve to roll them in clean
linen, And keep the toys in diet.
Tho. Excellent!
But when we have converted to the use The monasteries, where shall we bestow The friars, and the thin religious men?
Mai. You may
Keep them with little charge ; water is all The blessing their poor thirst requires ; and tailors Will not be troubled for new clothes ; a hair shirt Will outwear a copyhold, and warm four lives : Or, if you think them troublesome, it is A fair pretence to send them to some wild Country, to plant the faith, and teach the infidels
&. L] THE GENTLEMAN OF VENICE. 35
A way to heaven, for which they may be burnt, Or hang'd; and there's an end o' the honest men ! There be a thousand ways to quiet them.
Tho. My admirable counseller ! thou should'stbe My supreme officer, to see justice done.
Mai. You cannot honour men of worth too much.
Tho. We'll have the bridges all pull'd down,
and made Of silver.
Mai. Dross ! gold is our orient metal.
Enter BERNARDO.
Here is Bernardo. — Welcome ! where'sthe money?
Ber. Not a gazet :' the merchants are all sullen, And say you owe too much already.
Mai. They are dogbolts ! 'Tis time we had new laws, an they will not trust.
Tho. But we must build [Our] golden bridges at this rate, with sun-beams.
Mai. They were best content themselves with
honest stone, Hard as the heart of your ungodly merchants.
Tho. Prithee let's leave our dream of frighting
sailors ;
And say, what hope hast thou of getting money For this day's mirth ?
Mai. Some hope there is, if my uncle have but
faith
Enough to credit, what 1 never mean, Thrift and submission, and holy matters : Tis all the ways are left to cozen him, And creep into his nature ; I have pawn'd All my religion, that I will turn friar.
Tho. Hast [thou] pawn'd thy religion ? much
good do him ! Let him take the forfeit, so he send thee money —
1 Not a gazet :] A small coin. See Massinger, vol. iii. p. 52.
D2
36 THE GENTLEMAN OF VENICE. \_Act\\\.
Mai. For present use,— and howl, and hang him- self, I care not — Oh, here's Marcello. —
Enter MARCELLO.
Didst speak with him ?
Mar. Yes.
MaL That's well.
Mar. He does commend him to you, and with it this—
Mai. I knew 'twould take his tender conscience.
Tho. Hast thou prevailed?
Mar. This halter ; he has tied the knot himself, Aad says, next the philosopher's stone, he knows
not
What thing of nobler value to present you : And rather than you should delay for want Of a convenient — you know what — you should Once more peruse his orchard ; there's one tree He would have bear no other fruit.
Mai. I thank him
For his fine noose ; would I had his neck in't ! The devil should not conjure him from this circle. Is this the end of all?
Tho. No, not of all.
Mai. I prithee try how it will hold ; do you hear? Let's lay our heads together. Which of you Is best acquainted with the Turk?
Tho. What Turk?
MaL The great and mighty sultan, the grand
signior ;
Or have you but a Christian correspondence With any of his heathen officers?
Tho. What to do?
Mai. No rogue that lies perdu here for intelli- gence ?
Ber. What then ?
Sc. I.] THE GENTLEMAN OF VENICE. 37
Mai. I would make a bargain with him now,
and sell
This city to the pagan instantly. Venice is a jewel, a rich pendant, would Hang rarely at the great Turk's ear.
Tho. No doubt.
Mai. Or at one horn of his half moon.
Mar. I think so.
Mai. I would betray, if I knew how, the state, Or anything, for half a hundred ducats, To make one merry night ; though after I Were broke upon a wheel, or set upright, To peep through a cleft tree, like a pole-cat, In the high-way — No money from the mongrels? Well, if I live, I will to Amsterdam,* And add another schism to the two hundred Fourscore and odd. I am resolv'd.
no. What?
Mai. To cry down all things That hang on wit, truth, or religion.
Tho. Come, thou art passionate ; is there no
trick ?
No lewd device ? Let me see : I have thought A way to raise us, my dear Tully ; a project Shall raise us, or I'll venture —
Mai What?
Tho. My neck,
For hanging is the end of my device, Unless I thrive in't. Go to the rendezvous, To Rosabella's, on the Gran Canal e, Kiss her., and call for wines, my bullyrooks !
1 1 will to Amsterdam,] Holland was, in those days, the com- mon receptacle of sectaries of all denominations ; a circum- stance to which our old writers have numerous allusions. This liberality extended only to strangers, for among themselves the Dutch were a narrow, bigotted and persecuting people ; not so much from any superior respect for religion, as from their unhappy propensity to make its dogmas the shibboleth of a party in the state.
38 THE GENTLEMAN OF VENICE. [Act III
A dish of dainty fiddlers to curvet to ;
And drink a health that I may prosper : tumble,
And shake the house, I'll fetch you off.
Mai. But, signior —
Tfto. No more words : cannot you be gone, be
drunk,
And leave me to the reckoning! I'll return With Indian spoils, like Alexander. [Exit.
Mai. Spoken
Like a true Macedonian ! We are gone ! — He's right ; and may in time, and our good breed- ing,
Be brought to something may deserve the gallies. Follow your leaders, myrmidons.
Both. We attend. [Exeunt.
SCENE II.
The Duke's Gardens. Enter GIOVANNI, dressed as a soldier, and GEORGIO.
Gear. But will you venture, signior Giovanni, Your body to the wars, indeed?
Giov. 1 mean so.
Geor. And leave me to be lost, or thrown away Among the weeds here ?
Giov. Try thy fortune with me.
Geor. Yes, and come hopping home upon one
leg!
Will all my pay then buy a handsome halter, To hang my arm in, if it be but raaim'd ? Yet I endure a battle every day ; My mistress hath a mouth carries whole cannon ; And if you took that engine to the wars, You would find it do rare service.
&.IL] THE GENTLEMAN OF VENICE. 39
Giov. What?
Geor. Her tongue;
Make her but angry, and you'll need no more Artillery to scour them with a breach. What spoil her breath would make in a market- place !
Giov. Be less satirical ; I must not hear this ; she is my mother.
Geor. She is
My mistress, and that's worse ; but I'm resolv'd. I'll to the wars wi' ye ; do not tell her on't ; My 'prenticeship is worse than killing there. My hand, I'll wi' ye.
Giov. In the mean time buy thee a sword and
belt, And what is fit. [Gives him money.
Geor. No more ; I'll be a soldier, And kill according to my pay : this will Suffice to vamp my body ; I may rise, If I grow rich in valour, that will do't ; Money and a tilting feather make a captain. [Exit.
Giov. There is no other way to quiet the Afflictions here ; beside, 'tis honourable, And war a glorious mistress. — 'Tis Bellaura
Enter BELLAURA and ROBERTO.
And my father.
Rob. I know, madam, you may break His resolution, if you be pleas'd; You may command : he's here.
Bell. I'll try my skill.
Rob. Blessings attend your ladyship ! I'll wait for the success. [Exit.
Bell. How now, Giovanni ?
What, with a sword ! you were not us'd to appear Thus arm'd ; your weapon is a spade, I take it ?
40 THE GENTLEMAN OF VENICE. [Act III.
Giov. It did become my late profession, madam ; But 1 am chang'd.
Bell. Not to a soldier ?
Giov. It is a title, madam, will much grace me ; And with the best collection of my thoughts, I have ambition to the wars.
Bell. You have?
Giov. Oh, 'tis a brave profession, and rewards All loss we meet, with double weight in glory, A calling princes still are proud to own ; And some do willingly forget their crowns -To be commanded : 'tis the spring of all We here entitle fame to ; emperors, And all degrees of honours, owing all Their names to this employment : in her vast And circular embraces holding kings, And making them ; and yet so kind, as not To exclude such private things as I, who may Learn and commence in her great arts. My life Hath been too useless to myself and country ; 'Tis time I should employ it to deserve A name within their registry, that bring The wealth, the harvest home of well-bought honour.
Bell. It is an active time, I must confess, And the unhappy scene of war too near us ; But that it should enflame you on the sudden To leave a calm and secure life, is more Than commonly it works on men of your Birth and condition : besides, I hear Your father is not willing you should leave him, To engage yourself in such apparent danger : Here you will forfeit your obedience, Unless you stay.
Giov. I cannot despair, madam, Of his consent ; and if by my own strength Of reason I incline him not, it was In my ambition to address my humble
Sc. II.] THE GENTLEMAN OF VENICE. 41
Suit to your ladyship, to gain it for me. At worst, it is no breach of duty, madam, If I prefer my country and her cause, Now bleeding, before any formal ties Of nature to a soft indulgent father. For danger, let pale souls consider it, It is beneath my fears.
Bell. Yet I can see
Through all this resolution, Giavanni ; 'Tis something else hath wrought this violent
change.
Pray let me be of counsel with your thoughts. And know the serious motive : come, be clear ; I am no enemy, and can assist, Where I allow the cause.
Giov. You maybe angry, Madam, and chide it as a saucy pride In me to name, or look at honour ; nor Can I but know what small addition Is my unskilful arm to aid a country.
Bell. I may therefore justly suspect there is Something of other force, that moves you to The wars ; enlarge my knowledge with the secret.
Giov. At this command I open my heart, madam. I must confess there is another cause, Which I dare not, in [my] obedience, Obscure, since you will call it forth ; — and yet I know you will laugh at me.
Bell. It would ill Become my breeding, Giovanni.
Giov. Then Know, madam, I'm in love.
Bell. In love ! with whom ?
Giov. With one I dare not name, she is so much Above my birth and fortunes.
Bell. I commend Your flight ; but does she know it ?
Giov. I durst never
42 THE GENTLEMAN OF VENICE. [ActllL
Appear with so much boldness, to discover My heart's so great ambition ; 'tis here still, A strange and busy guest.
Bell. And you think absence May cure this wound ?
Giov. Or death.
Bell. I may presume You think she's fair?
Giov. I dare as soon question your beauty,
madam,
The only ornament and star of Venice ; Pardon the bold comparison : yet there is Something in you resembles my great mistress — She blushes— [Aside.
Such very beams disperseth her bright eye, Powerful to restore decrepid nature ; But when she frowns, and changes from her sweet Aspect, (as in my fears I see you now, Offended at my boldness,) she does blast Poor Giovanni thus, and thus I wither At heart, and wish myself a thing lost in . My own forgotten dust ! — but is't not possible At last (if any stars bless but high thoughts,) By some desert in war, and deeds of honour, (For mean as I have rais'd themselves to empire,) That she, without a blush to stain her cheek, May own me for a servant ? — I am lost In wandering apprehensions. [Aside.
Bell. Poor Giovanni ! I pity thee, but cannot cure. — I like Thy aspiring thoughts, and to this last, of love, Allow the wars a noble remedy. [Aside.
Re-enter ROBERTO and URSULA.
I have argued against your son's resolve, but find His reasons overcome my weak dispute ; And I must counsel you to allow them too.
Sc. II ] THE GENTLEMAN OF VENICE. 43
Urs. Nay, I was never much against it, madam.
Rob. She loves him not ; but does your ladyship Think fitting he should go?
Bell. Yes, yes ; 'tis honourable : And, to encourage [this] his forward spirit, — The general is my kinsman, Giovanni, What favours he can do you, you shall have My letters to entreat ; and at my charge You shall be furnish'd like a gentleman : Attend me at my lodgings.
Giov. You bind all My services. — Why, this will make a show yet.
Rob. Nay, then take my consent, and blessing too.
Urs. And mine. — The duke.
[Exeunt Giov. Rob. and Urs.
Enter Duke and MARINO.
Duke. Bellaura, I must speak to you.
Bell. I attend.
Duke. You have my purpose ; and return me
clearly
How he bestows himself, and what society Withdraws him from his duty thus.
Mar. I shall With my best care.
Duke. I fear that Malipiero ; But let me find your diligence. — Bell aura.
{Exit with Bell.followed by Mar.
44 THE GENTLEMAN OF VENICE. [Act III.
SCENE III.
A Gallery in Cornari's House, adorned with pic- tures, amongst the rest that of Claudiana.
Enter Bravos with FLORELLI ; they uncover and unbind him, and exeunt.
Flo. I am all wonder : shall I trust my senses ? A fair and pleasant gallery ! Was I Surprised for this ?• or do I dream ? I did Expect the end of my conveyance should Have been more fatal. [Looks around him.
No track appears, or sign of those that brought me. The place is rich in ornament ; sure these Are pictures ! all things silent as the images, And yet these speak. — Some do inhabit here ; This room was not ordained only for air And shadows ; 'tis some flattering prologue to My death, some plot to second the affront Of Malipiero, with more scorn to ruin me. —
Enter CORNARI masked and disguised^ with a case of pistols, which he points at Florelli.
What art?
Cor. A friend.
Flo. That posture and presentment Promise no great assurance , yet there's something Within that noble frame would tempt me to Believe thou art —
Cor. What?
Flo. A black murderer. Point not thy horrid messengers of death Upon a man disarm 'd ; my bosom is No proof against those fiery executioners. How came 1 to deserve from thee, unknown,
Sc. III.] THE GENTLEMAN OF VENICE. 45
So black a purpose as thy looks present me ?
I never saw thy face, nor am I conscious
Of any act, in whose revenge thou hast
Put on this horror. Let me know my guilt
Before I die ; although I never liv'd
At that poor rate to fear a noble death,
Yet, unprepared, and thus to die, doth something
Stagger my soul, and weaken my resolve
To meet thy execution. Thou hast
Too good a face to be a mercenary
Cut- throat, and Malipiero would become
The hangman's office better.
Cor. You believe, then, How easily I can command your destiny? I have no plot with any Malipiero, And thus remove thy fears. [Exit with the pistols.
Flo. Is he gone ?
Re-enter CORNARI.
Cor. You're still within
My power ; but call yourself my guest, not pri- soner ;
And if you be not'dangerous to yourself, Nothing is meant but safety here, and honour.
Flo. This does amaze me more. But do Italians Compel men to receive their courtesies?
Cor. I must not give you reasons ; yet for your Surprise, you may receive a timely knowledge, And not repent. I am a gentleman, And by that name secure thee ; if you can Fancy a peace with this restraint, 'tis none, But something that may please you above freedom ; If your unruly thoughts tempt a resistance, Death is let in at every thing you look at.
Flo. I'll leave my wonder, and believe. What
now Must I obev ?
46 THE GENTLEMAN OF VENICE. [Act III
Cor. First walk away your fright.
Flo. 'Tis off.
Cor. How do you like this gallery?
Flo. 'Tis very handsome.
Cor. And these pictures ?
Flo. Well.
Cor. Your eyes are yet too careless ; pray exa- mine them.
Flo. They cannot answer.
Cor. Now your opinion.
Flo. Very good faces.
Cor. Have your eyes ever Met with a substance [yet] that might reflect On any of these shadows, sir, in Venice?
Flo. Never.
Cor. Look a little better; is there nothing Of more than common curiosity In any of these beauties?
Flo. I have seen Fair ones. — What should this mean ? [Aside.
Cor. But pray tell me,
Of these (which some have prais'd for handsome- ness)
Which doth affect you most? I guess you have, By frequent view, and the converse with ladies, Arriv'd at excellent judgment.
Flo. I did not
Expect this dialogue ; yet I'll be free. I profess stranger to them all ; but this
[Pointing to Claudiana's portrait. I should elect the fairest and most worthy A masculine embrace. 1 build upon The promise of your honour, I should else Be nice in my opinion. ,
Cor. You are just ;
And I prefer that too. What will vou say To call that lady mistress, and enjoy her? She's noble, to my knowledge. — But enough,
Sc. III.] THE GENTLEMAN OF VENICE. 47
At this time. I must pray your kind excuse, If, whilst you walk into this room, —
[Opening the hangings.
Flo. A fair one.
Cor. Which is design'd your lodging, I become Your jailor, and make sure this gallery Till my return ; be constant to your temper, There shall be nothing wanting to procure You safe and pleasant hours.
Flo. Distrust falls off. I will expect to find you noble, though My faith bind not to all, and enter. [Exit.
Cor. So.
I tread a maze too, but must not resign My office, till I perfect my design. [Exit.
SCENE IV.
A Room in Rosabella's House.
Enter MALIPIERO with ROSABELLA, dancing ; BER- NARDO and MARCELLO.
i* A Dance.
Ber. Active Mali pie ro ! Marc. Excellent!
They move as they had nothing else but soul. Mai So ! drink ! we are not merry. Here's
a health To my hen -sparrow !
Marc. Let it walk round.
Ber. What! Rosabella's health before the
State s ? Mai. Hang states and commonwealths! we will
be emperors,
And laugh, and drink away whole provinces ; — Shall we not, didapper?
48 THE GENTLEMAN OF VENICE. [ActlU.
Ros. What you please. But will Signior Thornazo be here presently, And bring —
Mai. The golden fleece, thou lady Guinever! And he shall mount thy little modesty, And ride like Agamemnon, and shall pay for't ; While we, like valiant Greeks, in lusty wine Drench the remembrance that we are mortal.—^ More wine ! my everlasting marmoset.
Ber. Brave Malipiero still ! Our grand signior's health ! [Drinks.
Signior Thomazo.
Mai. Let it come, squirrels, And then a song : my pretty Rosabella, Which of the senators were here last night, To court thee with a draught of dissolv'd pearl ] Be supple to thy friends ; and let thy men Of state, who hide their warp'd legs in long gowns, And keep their wisdom warm in furs, like agues, Most grave and serious follies, wait, and want The knowledge of thy fiddle, my dear Dowsabel.
Ros. What hath advanced your brain thus,
Malipiero?
You were not wont to talk at such a height. There is some mighty fortune dropping ; is Your uncle sick, whose heir you hope to be ?
Mai. Hang uncles ! there's a damp in's very
name.
Wine ! or I sink. So ! now thy song ; come, sit.
[Ros. sings.
Enter THOMAZO, with MARINO.
Tito. Nay, you shall enter. — Gentlemen, my
friend. —
Salute him, Malipiero ; he is one May do us service.
Mar. Sir, I'll take my leave.
Sc. IV.] THE GENTLEMAN OF VENICE. 49
Tho. That were a jest! you shall stay, by this
hand. —
Who has the wine ? Drink to my noble friend, Whilst I embrace my queen of Carthage.
Ros. Welcome !
Mai. I have seen this gentleman wait near your father.
Tho. Right, in his bedchamber ; a sober cox- comb ;
We met by chance ; let's make him drunk ; I have The brave devices here, boy. [Aside to Mai.
Mai. Good ! — You're welcome. — Fill me a tun of wine.
Mar. How, signior?
Mai It is too little for a friend.
Mar. They'll drown me ; here's a precious knot!
[Aside.
Tho. I hug thee, Cleopatra. — Gentlemen, Am not I behind half a score glasses ? Fill ; Come, charge me home ; I'll take it here.
[He takes the bottle and drinks.
Mar. What will become of me ? they mean to
drench
Me for the sullens ; I am like to have A very fine time, and employment here. [Aside.
Tho. But have you ne'er a banquet ?
Ros. 'Tis preparing.
Tho. Let it be as rich as the Egyptian queen Made for Marc Antony ; in the mean time, What limb of wantonness have you ready for My noble friend here ? get him a fine flesh saddle ; Or, where's thy mother? now I think upon't, He loves to ride upon a pad.
Mar. Not I, sir.
Mai. Oh, by all means, signior. — He shall go to the price of any lady ware.
Mar. Who, I ? alas ! my tilting days are done.
Nay, nay, then, I'll drink wi'ye, gentlemen, but I cannot tumble.
VOL. v. E
50 THE GENTLEMAN OF VENICE. [Acilll.
Tho. Why, then here's to thee!
Mar. No ladyware for me, sweet mistress ; I blush to say, I cannot mount at this time. —
[Exit Ros. Would I were off again ! polecats for me ! [Aside.
Tho. Now, gentlemen, wipe your eyes.
[Shews a cabinet.
Marc. A cabinet of rich jewels !
Tho. And how, and how shew these things'? Is't fit we want to revel, while my father Has these toys idle ? we grope in the dark, And lose our way, while such bright stars as these May light us to a wench !
Marc. There is no conscience in't. — But what shall we do with them ? there's a lustre Hath struck me into a flame.
Mai. Drink half, And tumble out the rest in feather-beds.
Tho. Where's Rosabella, to lend money !
Mar. Stay, sir ;
She never can disburse to half their value ; Beside, I know their sly and costive natures. I am acquainted with a Jew — are we All faithful ? are there no traitors here? — I am acquainted with a Jew shall furnish you To purpose, and transport these, where they shall
not Betray from whence they came. — Trust her ! 'ti«
dangerous ;
Besides the scanting of your mirth, by a Penurious — So ! give me the cabinet — You're sure all these are friends, and will say nothing ?
Tho. I warrant thee. — What luck had I to meet him !
Mai Will you trust him ?
Tho. He'soneof us.— Make haste; amightysum.
Mar. I'll bring a storm of ducats instantly.
[Exit, with the cabinet.
Sc. IV.] THE GENTLEMAN OF VENICE. 51
Tho. So, so ! to the wine again.
Mai. You need not spend the total here ; I have
use
For forty of those ducats. Tho. Shalt have fifty.
MaL These gentlemen are out of fig-leaves too ; Some fresher robes would show well.
Tho. They shall have New sking, my Holofernes. Mai I'll have half. Ber. and Marc. A match ! MaL Wine ! — To our generalissimo ! [Drinks. TfiO. That's I ; I understand the metaphor ; It shall have law. Oh for some trumpets now ! MaL Tantarra rara, boys ! outroar the winds, And drink the sun into eclipse ; hang miching ! — But where 's my wanton pinnace?
Ber. Boarded by Some raan of war by this time. Marc. She is spoom'd away. Mai. Top and top- gallant gone! Ha! are there
pirates
Upon these coasts'? Give fire upon the water- rats,
And shoot pell-mell ; fight as a whirlwind flings, Disordering all. — What man of menaces Dare look awry upon my cat-a- mountain?
Tho. Not I. — Now he's got rampant, he'll kill
somebody.
Ber. You must not be affrighted ; t' other lift, And be a giant eke, and talk of terrors With words Olympus high. Tho. Will that do't? Ber. Oh, sir.
T/io. Give me the bottle, then ? [Drinks.
Mai. Suppose thou wert my uncle now ; come
hither;
Hold thy head fair, that I may whip it off.
E2
52 THE GENTLEMAN OF VENICE. [Actlll.
Marc. Mine's nothing like ; Bernardo has been
taken For your uncle, signior.
Mai How dare you be like The rogue my uncle, sirrah !
Ber. I, sir? 'tis
Signior Thomazo that he means ; and see, For very fear his head falls off.
[Thomazo checks his draught, and sets down
the bottle.
Mai. Reach it me ; I'll drink a health, then, in his skull.
Tho. Who talks of me? who dares mention A thought of me ?
Re-enter MARINO.
Where be the dainty ducats?
Mar. The money's coming, sir; six men are
laden, And will be here immediately.
Mai. Thou shalt drink A health ; kneel, venerable sir.
Tho. Be humble, Thou man of mallecho, or thou diest.
Mar. I do, sir. [Kneels.
Mai. To the town a-fire !
Mar. What do you mean, signior?
Tho. He has a very good meaning, never doubt it.
Mai. That you shall pledge, or forfeit your
sconce to me.
None shall have the honour to pledge this health, But this whey-bearded signior.
Tho. Now do my brains tunable, tumble, tum- ble—
Mai. Give it him, And drink it with devotion, as I did. [Mar. drinks.
Sc. IV.] THE GENTLEMAN OF VENICE. 53
Tho. I long to see these double — double —
[Hiccups*
But where's this cockatrice, this whirligig ? , Is m\ head fast?
Marc. The screw is firm, suspect not. Mar. I dare not pray, nor ask forgiveness here.
[Aside.
Tho. Do not my brains now turn upon the toe ? Mai. Do you hear, my doughty signior Tho-
niazo?
Will you kill the duke, your graceless father, now ? Tho. Yes, marry will I. Mai. You shall let him into the chamber one
night,
Where he shall strangle him. [To Mar.
Tho. Oh, I can play upon his windpipe rarely. Mai. We'll set (do you mark ?) some corner of
the palace
On fire, at the same time ; and in that hurry, Break into the treasury ; take what we think fit, And steal away by sea into another country. Mar. Most admirably contriv'd ! — The men are come.
Enter Officers, armed.
Tho. Hey ! the money, boys ?
Mar. Disarm the traitors !
Mai. Plots ! ambuscadoes ! Are these your Jew
tricks? Mar. I'll wait till you have slept away your
surfeit, Here in the house.
1 The 4to. reads hickets. Whether the speaker meant
to say — ducats; and " beinp:/ap," as Bardolph has it, blundered in his orthography; or was interrupted in the midst of his speech, like sir Toby, by his pickled herrings, must be left to the sagacity of the reader.
54 THE GENTLEMAN OF VENICE. [Actlll.
Tho Which is the Jew of all these?
Mai. We are cheated by a court-nap.2
TAo. My friend, are you the Jew ? where be the
jewels ? Mar Truth is, 1 have sent the jewels to your
father,
And lie will lend no money. Tho vo money1? Mai. Bui must we go to prison? Tho I will to prison with them, spight o' your
teeth. Mar. Not till you have slept. — This way.
[Exit with Tho.
Re-enter ROSABELLA.
Ros. The banquet's ready, gentlemen,
Mai. A rescue !
We are snatch'd up for traitors ; we are betray'd, And going to prison.
Ros Who pays for the wine and banquet I
Mai. Why, any living body, that has a scruple In's conscience, for the loss of thy dear comfits And carraways. — Away! lead me, ye rogues, 111 not march else ; and let us make a shew, My fine officious rascals. On afore! I follow in fit state ; so farewell, firelock!
Ros. I shall be undone.
Mai. Undoing is thy trade. — March OD, I say. [Exeunt.
* Mai. We are cheated by a court-nap.'] If this be the genuine word, I do not understand what is meant by it.
Sc. I.] THE GENTLEMAN OF VENICE. 65
ACT IV. SCENE I.
A Room in Cornari's House. Enter CORNARI, followed by CLAUDIANA.
Clan. Your pleasure, sir ? you did command my presence.
Cor. Are you come ? you and I Must not be interrupted, Claudiana.
[Makes fast the door.
Clau. Why do you shut your chamber ?
Cor. We must be private. — How does my life ?
Clau. Well, sir, if you be so.
Cor. I have a suit to thee, my best Claudiana.
Clau. To me ? It must be granted.
Cor. That's well said ;
But 'tis a business, sweet, of mighty consequence, More precious than my life.
Clau Goodness forbid I should not give obedience to the least Of your commands ! . But when your life requires My service, I should chide my heart and thoughts, Unless they put on wings to shew their duty.
Cor. Nay, 'tis a business, sweet, will speak thy
love. Thou k no west how many years, since the priest
tied
Our holy knot, with what religious flowing Of chaste and noble love our hearts have met ; How many blessings have I summ'd in thee, And but in thee ! for unto this heaven gave not That which indeed doth crown all marriage, Children. Thou hast been fruitful, Claudiana, In all that's good, but only fruitfulness ;
56 THE GENTLEMAN OF VENICE. [ActlV.
And when I think who, in my want of that Great blessing of thy womb, must be my heir, A base and impious villain, to possess And riot in my spacious fortunes, I Forget that other happiness in thy person, And It t in a vexation to consume me.
Clan. I know not what to fear ; it is heaven's
will, And not my fault.
Cot. Oh no ; the fault is mine, All mine, Claudiana, for thou art not barren ; 'Tis I, a man prodigious, and mulcted By nature, without faculty of man To make our marriage happy, and preserve This fair, this lovely figure. Be at peace, And let me blush, a thing not worth the love Of such a bounteous sweetness.
Clan. Let me fall [Kneel*.
Beneath that which sustains me, ere I take In a belief that will destroy my peace ; Not in the apprehension of what You frame to accuse yourself, but in fear My honour is betray'd to your suspicion : Oh, kill me, sir, before I lose your thought, Your noble thought.
Cor. Rise ; with thy tears I kiss Away thy tremblings. I suspect thy honour ! My heart will want faith to believe an angel, That should traduce thy fair name : thou art chaste As the white down of heaven, whose feathers play Upon the wings of a cold winter's gale, Trembling with fear to touch the impurer earth. How are the roses frighted in thy cheeks To paleness, weeping out transparent dew, When a loose story is but nam'd ! Thou art The miracle of a chaste wife, from which fair Original, drawn out by heaven's own hand, To have had one copy, 1 had writ perfection
Sc. L] THE GENTLEMAN OF VENICE. 67
To all my wishes here ; but 'tis denied me: —
Nor do I mock thee with a fable, while
I miserably complain, convinced, and lost
In my own masculine defect : but yet
I love thee, Claudiana ; dost not think so!
And after so much injury, I bring
Not my repentance only", but a just
And noble satisfaction.
Clau. You oppress My senses with the weight of new amazement.
Cor. I must be clear ; thou must embrace ano- ther—
Another in my bed, whom from the world I have made choice to know thee ; be not frighted : This way is left, and this alone, to recompense My want, and make both happy.
Clan. I embrace Another in your bed !
Cor. Dost think I would Attempt, or wish thee to't, without a care, In every circumstance, to both our fames?
Clau. Fame ! Are you master of your reason ?
Dare you Provoke heaven thus *
Cor. Heaven only shall be witness ; Whose secrecy I'll trust, but not another's, Beside the principal agent, to get heaven.
Clau. You are no Italian, sure.
Cor. Yes, and thy husband ; A just one to thy memory, that would Cancel his faith, rather than be a strict Idolater of words, and severe laws, To the destroy ing of so sweet a figure : 1 would not have thee flie, like birds i' the air, Or ships, that leave no track, to say, here was ; So rich a blessing rather, like a plant, Should root, and grow, and bloom, and bear for ever.
58 THE GENTLEMAN OFVENICE. [ActlV.
Clan. I am lost for ever.
Cor. Be wise, and meet my wishes ; 'tis my love That hath o'ercome all nice considerings, To do tin e justice : nor will I intrude Upon thy bosom one shall be unwelcome ; He's honourably born, of comely person, But has a soul adds glory to them both : A boy from him, born to my name arid fortunes, Leaves not another wealth to my ambition. To raise thy free consent, my Claudiana, 'Tis he whom thou dost think worth thy own
praise,
The gentleman victorious for his parts So late in Venice, the English cavalier.
Clau. 1 am undone.
Cor. To be short,
I have surprised his person for this use ; He hath been many days an obscure guest Within the lodgings next the garden ; for I must confess I have had strugglings in My nature, and have sate in council 'gainst Myself some time, touching this great affair : But 1 have answer'd every thing oppos'd it, And took this time to acquaint thee.
Clau. Good sir, kill me.
Cor. 1 will,
And him too, if ye mingle not, and make The project as I cast it ; be not obstinate : Why, he shall ne'er discover who thqu art, If thou be faithful to thyself; thou may'st Pretend thyself some pleasant bona roba, Or take what name and shape thou wilt.
Clau. There's none Can hide my shame, or wash the stain away.
Cor. What shame or stain is in't, when it is kept A secret, darker than the book of destiny, From mankind?
Clau. Am I practised in those arts
Sc. I.] THE GENTLEMAN OF VENICE. 59
Of sin, that lie should take me for a courtesan ? Nay, rather [, sir,] let me be known your wife ; It will oblige him more to use me well, And thank your loving pains that brought me to
him : If I must be a whore, and you a —
Cor Stay;
And I a — what? — I bleed within me. [Aside.
This key will make the chamber free, [gives her a keyJ\ — I follow.
Clau. Consider, sir, — I'm else undone for ever.
[Exit.
Cor. Why, if he know me for her husband, 'tis Without a name ; I can secure my honour, And send him quickly to eternal silence. I am resolv'd they must obey. — Proceed, A little blood will wash away this deed. [Exit.
SCENE II.
An Apartment in the Palace ; a table with letters. Enter Duke, CANDIANO, Senators, and Attendants.
Duke. Our city, drooping with the wounds so
late
Received, is now to study with what joys To entertain so great a victory. Treviso is return'd to our obedience, Almost without a loss ; how many fell On the adverse part those papers signify, And must enlarge our triumph. But is't not Strange what our general writes of Giovanni, Whose spirit he admires, and forward valour ; Referring to his bold attempt our conquest? That he advanced his head and sword first on The enemy's walls, which [thus] inflam'd our army To second" him with courage ; and that after
60 THE GENTLEMAN OF VENICE. [ActlV-
With his own hands he slew their general, Whose fall shot death and trembling through their army.
Can. Where is Giovanni ?
Duke. He is, by the direction of our general, Now marching hither. To his only conduct The captives are remitted, and his act By us to be consider'd ; but we have Sent order for the placing of his prisoners Securely, and commanded he should here Attend our pleasure.
Can. The young gardener ?
Duke. The'same; whose early valour takes away The prejudice of humble birth, and ought To be encouraged nobly.
Can. 'Tis but justice. Is't possible the gardener's son should so Behave himself in war? He will deserve some honour for't.
Duke. Why may not
Our power dispense, and, though his low condition By our rule exempt him, (for his gallant service Done,) now create him gentleman of Venice, With a noble pension from our treasury, To bear his title up?
Can. We give it strangers, Whose birth we not examine ; he deserves it.
Enter MARINO, and whispers the Duke.
Duke. Let him receive no favour For his relation to me, but take His place and punishment with the rest. Away ! 1 cast him from my thought. \Exit Mar.
Can. Why comes not Our general himself?
Duke. Reasons of war
Sc. II.] THE GENTLEMAN OF VENICE. 61
May yet compel his stay ; he's to repair
Some breaches which our soldiers made ; and
wisely,
By some new fortifications, secure The town, if the enemy should reinforce —
Enter an Attendant.
Att. Signior Giovanni waits.
Duke. Hath he disposed, By our direction, those prisoners were Sent by our general ?
Att. He hath, an't please your excellency.
Duke. Admit him. [Exit Att.
Enter GIOVANNI, plumed and brave? followed by GEOROIO.
Giov. All health and honour to the duke and senate !
Duke. We thank thee, Giovanni, and will spare Your trouble to relate what we have gain'd P the war. Our general writes how much our
Venice
Doth owe to you, whose maiden, yet bold valour Hath wrought our safety, and suppress'd the late Insolent Genoese.
Giov. Your bounty makes
That mine, which I want merit, sir, to challenge ; But if my will to serve my country (for, Beside that name and warm desires, I dare Call nothing mine,) you're pleas'd to accept and
cherish
A young man's duty, you will teach me, in The next employment, to deserve indeed : Till when, you lose not to have built upon This humble pile a monument of your goodness,
1 and brave,] i. e. richly, splendidly arrayed.
62 THE GENTLEMAN OF VENICE. [Act IV.
To tell the world, although misplaced on me, You love a growing virtue.
Dnke. This Giovanni !
His words taste more of courtier than the garden. — To shew we understand, and, to that knowledge, Have will to recompense desert, Giovanni, The senate bids you ask what in your power Your thought can aim at, to reward your service ; And you shall soon possess it.
Geor. Ask, ask quickly, A hundred thousand double double ducats, 'Twill serve us both ; do't; beggars must be im- pudent. [Aside to Giov.
Giov. Now you destroy what else might live to
serve you ;
This grace will make me nothing, when I call My airy worth to balance. Keep those glorious Rewards for men born and brought up in honour, That may be great and able columns to Your ever envied states. Alas ! I rise Like a thin reed beneath this commonwealth, Whose weight an Atlas must sustain like heaven. This favour is too mighty ; and if you Command me ask a just reward, 'tis nothing.
Geor. You had as good have said nothing ; I
blush for you. You know many soldiers So modest, to refuse pay or preferment ! They cannot have it sometimes after many Petitions to the state ; and now their minds Are soluble, and apt to pour out favours, You to be so maidenly ! [Aside to Giov.
Giov. May I credit,
With pardon of your wisdoms, that you mean To encourage thus the low-born Giovanni ?
Geor. Now he makes question of their honesty
too. — Oh, simple soldier ! [Aside.
Sc. IL] THE GENTLEMAN OF VENICE. 63
Duke. Welooknotat thy root, but at thy blossom ; And, as [to] a preserver of our country, We offer up a gratitude ; consult With thy best judgment. — Though (beside this act Of his abroad) I can give no account Why I should love this young man, or prefer him ; I know not by what mystery I have Had thoughts to wish him more than common
fortune ;
And this occasion of his merit offered, I will pursue. [Aside.
Geor. Do as I counsel you ; and remember I Have left my fortunes and my trade, to serve you.
Giov. Call it not pride, if I be willing to Believe your excellence, that I have done Something your goodness prompts you to reward, And the grave senate ; I have thought —
Duke. Be free.
Geor. Now do 1 expect to be half a senator at least [Aside.
Giov. And since you raise my act to such a
merit, I will not ask a thing too much beneath it, —
Geor. Well said, 'Vanni ! [Aside.
Giov. And shame your bounty ; yet I may fear You will not grant —
Geor. Again? [Aside.
Duke. Name it with confidence.
Giov. I look at no reward of gold, —
Geor. How's that * He's out on's part. [Aside.
Giov. (I know not
By what fate I contemn it,) nor at titles Of honour, or command, or what can trench On state or wealth, —
Geor I thank you heartily. I must to dig again. [Aside.
Giov. Ktn ploy such gifts, To pay some slight and mercenary souls,
64 THE GENTLEMAN OF VENICE. [ActlV.
That make their end of good, reward, and not Itself; but since you have impos'd I should Make choice of somewhat, know, my ambition aims —
Duke. At what?
Giov. It is too great a happiness ; but I now Consider I have prattled to the wind : What I desire is not within your power, And what you may command, not in my wishes ; For 1 would ask Bellaura. Can you make Me fit for such a blessing? no, you cannot ; Unless I were unborn, and should again Come forth, not Giovanni, but the son Of some bright name, and this world-taking honour.
Duke. Bellaura? Strange request !
Re-enter MARINO and BELLAURA.
Mar. Madam, I dare not Be seen ; if you prevail, I shall attend, - And put his mercy into act. [Exit.
Duke. She's here.
Bell. I have a suit to your highness.
Duke. Me, Bellaura?
Bell. About your son, whom men, to your dis- honour, Lead like some base offender.
Duke. I must speak The cause into your ear. [ Whispers her.
Giov. [aside.']— 1 was to blame To mention her so public ; but my heart Grew sick with silence ; and their proposition To ask what I desired most, prevail'd Against my reason.
Duke. Leave him to me, Bellaura. — Do you observe that gentleman ?
Bell. 'Tis Giovanni ; He does become the soldier.
Sc. II. J THE GENTLEMAN OF VENICE. 65
Duke. He has done wonders Abroad, and quits our gratitude, to be Only by you rewarded : can you love him ?
Bell. I understand you not.
Duke. And marry him ?
Bell. How have 1 lost myself, since I became Your charge, a legacy bequeath'd your care By my dead father, the late duke of Venice ? That you should think I can desctjfid with such Forgetfulness of myself, my birth, or fortunes, To place my love on one so poorly born !
Duke. You blush.
Bell. 'Tis anger in my blood to hear him named. — You pay me coarsely for my charity ; \To Giov. Learn modesty hereafter to be grateful : I have done with you, sir. [Exit.
Geor. Do you hear the tit? be wise, And look at ready money ; 'tis a better Commodity than any lady in Christendom.
Giov. Pray dismiss, And pardon Giovanni. I am satisfied. For your own honour, let not my ambition Be told abroad ; I'll check, and punish my Aspiring thoughts hereafter.
Duke. You have leave. — Come, gentlemen : he is in love ; I pity him.
[Exeunt Duke, Can. and Senators.
Geor. What shall become of us now, by your folly?
Giov. We'll to the garden, Georgio, and there
begin Another growth ; for what we have 's despised.
Geor. I knew I should return to my dear dung- hill.
Giov. I prithee see the armour which Bellaura Bestow'd on me, brought home.
Geor. Your armour ! yes, We might have worn soft-natur'd silk, an you had
VOL. v. F
66 THE GENTLEMAN OF VENICE. [Act IV.
Been ruled by me.— A pox of love, for my part ! 'Tis good for nothing but to make things dear.
Giov. I'll be reveng'd upon my stars, that made Me poor; and die forgotten in my shade, [>**«
SCENE III.
The Picture Gallery in Cornari's House ; a table, with tapers.
Enter FLORELLI.
Flo. I find no great devotion In this monastic life ; the major domo Promised a mistress here of that complexion,
[Pointing to ClaudianoJs portrait. But I like not this solitude, And tedious expectations. I shall ne'er do things handsomely. Give me freedom and fair play, And turn me to a harpy ; but to be thus Compell'd to an embrace, (for that's the meaning Of my sly signior, if it be not worse,) Fed high, to encounter with an Amazon 1 know not, — 'tis not well, nor conscionable, In my opinion. — I hear some [one] busy About the lock—
Enter CORNARI.
My jailor ! — What now follows? —
Sir, if I must have my throat cut, as much
Better i do not hope, though I deserve not
That bounty from your hands, I live so dully ;
I would request you set a time, an't be
A day or two, to pray and think of matters,
And then turn me loose to the other world.
Sc. III.] THE GENTLEMAN OF VENICE. 67
Cor. Read that. — [Gives him a paper.
He shall not see my blushes. I must pity Thee, Claudiana ; but my stubborn fate Will have it so : it is to make thee live, Although we both must suffer ; and I, like A father, thus, whose child, at play upon A river's bank, is falFn into the stream, Leap in, and hazard all to save a little. But I must on. [Aside, and exit.
Flo. Amazement circles me ! Such wonders are not read in every marriage. What shall I do ? madness to question it. I must resolve, or die. Since there's no help, JTis something if she be but like that face, To comfort my proceeding.
Re-enter CORNARI, leading in CLAUDIANA, veiled.
Cor. Behold! and take, as lent, this treasure
from me ; I must expect it back again with interest.
[Exit, and locks the door.
Flo. The door is fast again : here is a precedent For husbands that want heirs to their estate ! A goodly person, — Please you, lady, to Unveil. — [she unveils.] — A rich, and most inviting
beauty !
I am all flame. Shall I take boldness, after My duty paid your white hand, to aspire, And touch your lip? Now could I wish to dwell here. [He kisses her.
Can you read, lady ? —
[She takes the paper, and turns from him. She turns away her face. I hope my signior Has taken pains to bring her to the business, And not left me to break her. Can she speak ? —
[Aside.
68 THE GENTLEMAN OF VENICE. [ActlV.
Those lines (I know not how you like them,
madam)
Were none of my invention ; the character I guess to be your husband's. I am here A prisoner to his will, to which, unless You give obedience, I have took leave Of day for ever ; destin'd, by his vow, To an eternal shade.— She leads the way.
[Clan, retires.
Conscience be calm ; no grumblings now of piety.
[Exit, following her.
ACT V. SCENE I.
The Duke's Gardens; Giovanni's armour hung upon several trees.
Enter GIOVANNI, ROBERTO, and URSULA.
Giov. These were the excellent Be 11 aura's gift, Of no use now to me, but to keep fresh The memory of my dreams, and that I lov'd her. I see how passion did blind my reason, And my prodigious hopes, vanish'd to air, Have left me to contemplate my own vanity.
Rob. I know not; but if I may credit Georgio, That did wait on thee to the senate, thou Hast lost an opportunity that might Have made us all clarissimos, Giovanni. I might have kept my reverend mules, and had My crupper worshipped by the plebeians ; And Ursula here been madam heaven knows
what ! — And did you wisely to refuse?
Urs. Nay, nay, I know
&.I.J THE GENTLEMAN OF VENICE GU
He was not born to do us good. — Not stoop To take preferment from the duke and senate !
Rob. Well, 'twas his modesty.
Urs. He learn'd it not from me.
Rob. No more.
Urs. You will be always taking his part against
me ;
But I know what I know, and that's a secret. — Here comes the t'other dunderhead.
Enter GEORGIO.
Gear. The armour is hung up already ; this We must all come to.
Rob. What, to the gibbet, Georgio ?
Geor. Master, look here ; [Pointing to the helmet. If you had but this hole to put your head in, It would be a great preservative to your hearing, And keep out all the noise of my dame's culverin ; Within this fortification, well lock'd up, You would think her loudest scolding a mere whisper.
Urs. What's that you talk of your dame, sirrah?
Geor. Oh, dame, 1 have news for you.
Urs. Forme? What is't? whom does your news concern ?
Geor. One that you love with all your heart.
Rob. Who is't, knave ?
Geor. Knave! call your word in, and eat it,
I'll advise ;
You may fare worse. You do not hear the news then?
Urs. I shall, when you'll find utterance.
Geor. The news — We are all of one religion ?
Rob. Out with it.
Geor. Every thing is not to be talk'd on.
Rob. So it seems, by your concealment.
70 THE GENTLEMAN OF VENICE. \_Act\.
Urs. Shall we hear it?
Geor. Yes ; signior Thomazo —
Urs. What of him?
Geor. There's a gentleman, an you talk of a
gentleman !
Vrs. What of Thomazo? now am I longing. Geor. I heard, as I came hither — Vrs. What? Rob. Let us hear too. . Urs. What? be brief.
Geor. That he is to lose his head, mistress — Vrs. Now a thousand blisters upon that tongue ! Geor. But you do not know for what, mistress ?
there's it ; You are so angry still at half a business.
Vrs. For what is he to suffer? — Oh, my heart ! Geor. For nothing but high treason. Rob. How?
Geor. You have not patience To hear a story out.
Rob. High treason, said he? That's a shrewd business. Vrs. Thomazo lose his head ? Rob. So it seems.
Vrs. Better thy generation were headless. Geor. I told you but in good will, because I
knew
You lov'd him. I have done. [Exit.
Urs. Passion ! Oh, my dear heart ! I'll to the
duke Myself, and beg his pardon.
Rob. You will make
Yourself a party in the treason, will you ? You'll beg his pardon ! you will beg a halter, And sooner 'twill be granted.
Urs. Giovanni,
Sweet Giovanni, — there's a sunshine word ! Dear child, go with us.
Sc.L] THE GENTLEMAN OF VENICE. 71
Rob. Us? Dost think I'll go And run my head into the hemp ?
Urs. Best honeysuckle ! One word of thine will strike the pardon dead.
Giov. I'd rather go a pilgrimage. {Exit.
Urs. Thou shalt go a pilgrimage another time, To the world's end. I charge thee, on my bless-
ing.— And, husband, you must go too.
Rob. No, no, not I.
I thank you, Ursula ; I'll not have my foot, Nor hand, in any treason.
Urs. Is it so much to kneel? You shall iay
nothing, Unless you please ; leave all the talk to me.
Rob. I will not go, though the duke send for me.
Urs. How? that's a piece of treason.
Rob. So ! if I go not, she'll betray me too. — Well, Giovanni shall go too: where is he?
Urs. Let me alone to conjure him. Shall we go presently? delays are dangerous. The rascal Georgio is gone too ; all forsake me In my distress.
Rob. What will you say, Ursula, When you come there? what will the duke think
on you ?
Or who shall suffer for your impudence? And what ? that is considerable : I have No mind to go again.
Urs. Then I'll spoil the garden, Break up the hedges, and deface the works Your darling GiovannLmade ; I'll let in A regiment of swine, and all their officers, To undermine the castle he made last, And fortified with cannon, though I die for't.
Rob. More treason ! Well, I will go ; but I hope You will not trudge this evening ; if we must Resolve upon't, let us do things discreetly.
72 THE GENTLEMAN OF VENICE. [ Act V.
Urs. That was well said ; nay, I am for discre- tion, For all my haste.
Rob. I think it most convenient To wait his business, coming forth his chamber To-morrow morning, Ursula, and then let Good natures work ; to-night's no time. We must consult our pillows what to say, And how to place our words.
Urs. Now 'tis my best pigeon ; Let us home instantly.
Rob. A sober pace goes far ; not too fast, Ursula, Remembering the proverb, and what follows ; We should march slow, to save [us] from the gal- lows. [Exit.
SCENE II.
A Room in Cornari's House.
Enter FLORELLI, followed by CORNARI, with a pistol and a rapier,
Cor. You have had your time of pleasure ; can
you pray !
Flo. Pray ! what do you mean, signior ? Cor. The lady whom you have enjoy'd, com- manded
I should present one of these two, or both, In token of her gratitude.
Flo. This cannot Be earnest, sir.
Cor. These are the jewels Which you must wear, sir, next your heart. How
do you
Affect the lustre of this toy? 'tis bright ; But here's a thing will sparkle.
Sc. II.] THE GENTLEMAN OF VENICE. 73
Flo. I am lost. — Is this the promise of my safety?
Cor. Yes ;
This will secure all. Thou dull islander ! 'Cause you can dance, and vault upon a hobby- horse,
Do you think to mount madonas here, and not Pay for the sweet career ? Fool ! to thy prayers ; For when these messengers salute thy heart, Thy soul shall find I'm an Italian, And will not trust a life to him, whose tongue Commands my honour.
Flo. Art a Christian ?
Cor. As much as comes to a Venetian's faith ; That believes no man is more fit to die, Than he that has been capering with my wife.
Flo. You cannot, sir, forget I was betray'd; Awake thy conscience, and let that answer : I have obey'd a dire necessity, And was brought hither by a stratagem.
Cor. 'Tis all one, signior. I presume you gave Consent to the dear matter of delight, Which is not held convenient you should talk of.
[Presents a pistol at him.
Flo. Hold!
Cor. Hope not to breathe ten minutes ; gather up Those thoughts you would have wait upon you to Another world.
Flo. Then 'tis high time to think Of other matters ; — though you have cruelly Resolved there is no safety for your fame, To let rne still be number'd with the living; (Which, if your scatter' d reason were collected, I could refute, but I'll not hope it now ;) Since, most ignobly, 'gainst the rules of honour, And faith already forfeit, you will make This undefenced pile your sacrifice ; Yet do not kill me twice.
74 THE GENTLEMAN OF VENICE. [Ac* V.
Cor. Twice?
Flo. Such a rage
Were infinite ; practise not cruelty Upon my second life, by murdering my Eternity ; allow to my last breath Leave to discharge the weight of many sins Into the bosom of some confessor.
Cor. This may be granted ; 'tis not much un- reasonable.
Flo. Your charity will think it fit to allow Some minutes to collect myself,
Cor. To shew
My design has no malice in't, I'll do Your soul that office, though our bodies must not Enjoy this air together many hours. I'll send one to you. [Exit.
Flo. The innocence of a saint Would not secure his life from an Italian, When his revenge is fix'd. — In what black hour Did I salute the world, that I am thrown Upon so hard a fate ? It is not fit To expostulate with heaven, or I could say Something in my defence, (as I am man,) To keep this mighty rock from falling on me. — My tutelar angel, be at counsel with My thoughts, and if there be a path of safety, Direct my trembling steps to find and taste it. —
Re-enter CORNARI, disguised as a friar.
[He] has kept his word, and 'tis no time to trifle.— As you're a priest, and by that sacred order And scapular you wear, not only hear me, But use your pious art to save from ruin A man condemned for that, which heaven and you Call virtue ! for not doing a black deed Would damn three souls at once ! and if your power
Sc. II.] THE GENTLEMAN OF VENICE. 75
Cannot prevail for mercy to my life, I challenge you, when 1 am dead, to be A witness of my innocence.
T Cor. This has No shape of a confession.
Flo. Nor do I,
Under that holy seal, discourse a story ; Yet, father, I must throw myself upon Your charity. Know, therefore, I am betray'd, And by the plot of him that owes this palace, (Whose name is never like to meet my knowledge,) Snatch'd up, one fatal evening, and forced hither By some dark ministers he had employ'd, (1 know not which way,) to this fatal chamber. I shudder but to name what impious act, Against his own and his dear lady's honour, He had design'd for me : her chaster soul Should have been stain'd, in his distrust of heaven, To bless him with an heir, and her white treasure, By me, a stranger, rifled, had not Providence Chain' d up our blood, so that the hours he gave To serve his black ambition, and our lust, We only spent in prayers for his conversion.
Cor. Ha !
Flo. This yet he knows not ; and it is not safe To appear in our own virtue, since the justice We did our peace, in crossing his expectance, May improve his rage to both our ruins. This Sad story frights you ; there is horror in't ; But 'tis an hour, the last, without some miracle To rescue me, a man disarmed, from violence ; Nor dare I mock heaven now, or hang upon My soul the burden of a lie, when 'tis Taking her last eternal flight. It is not A fear to die afflicts me, with my faith And innocence about me ; I have.look'd Death in the face, and be it thought no boast To say, I have taught others, by example,
76 THE GENTLEMAN OF VENICE. [ActV.
To march up to the ugliest face of danger. But to die thus dishonourably, to be Sent out o' the world i' the dark, without a name, Or any account to those to whom I owe My blood and birth, persons that carry names Of honour in my country, this doth stagger me To quit my life ; and may excuse my address To you, who have authority from heaven To take his fury off, whom, otherwise, I expect my violent executioner. I have some tremblings for his lady, whose Most holy tears streamed through my soul com- passion, And charm'd my blood ; tears, if he durst have
patience,
Were powerful enough to beg from heaven That blessing which he fondly thinks to hasten, With loss of his eternity.
Cor. No more.
[Exit hastily, and having thrown off his du-
guise, re-enters behind with Ciaudiana. Forgive me, oh, forgive me, Ciaudiana ; And if my sin of forcing thy obedience Beyond the rules of honour and of marriage, Have not quite murder'd thy affection, Wish me a little life for my repentance.
Clau. I joy to hear this from you.
Cor. There's work within me ; and so deep a
sense
Of my own shame and sorrow, that I feel My heart already weeping out a bath To make thee white again.
Clau. Sir, in what best I understand, I must ask you forgiveness.
Cor. Ha! mine? for what? betraying thee to darkness?
Clau. For disobeying your command.
Cor. Thou didst
Sc. II.] THE GENTLEMAN OF VENICE. 77
The impious act by my design, which takes Thy guilt away, and spreads the leprosy Upon myself.
Clau. Although you kill me, sir, I must remove the cloud, and let you see Me as I am, not changed from my first innocence.
Cor. Possible!
Clau. Most easy, where there is A chaste resolve ; and I must tell you, sir, Although I wanted courage to oppose Your passion, when your reason and religion » Were under violence of your will, my heart Resolved to try my own defence, and rather Than yield myself a shameful spoil to lust, By my own death to quit my name from scandal ; But Providence determined better for me, And made me worth a stranger's piety, Whom your choice meant the ruin of my honour. If this want entertainment in your faith, ;Tis peace to my poor heart that I have many White witnesses in heaven.
Cor. [comes for ward.] — You have done no feats
then! My wife is chaste.
Flo. I cannot, sir, engage My last breath to a nobler truth.
Cor. Tis so.— You may withdraw, Claudiana. [exit Clau] — By
what
Has been express'd, though I am satisfied You are not guilty in the fact, as I Expected, 'tis not safe, when I consider My own fame in the story, that you live, sir. I must not trust you longer with a secret That, by my tameness may hereafter spread The infamy abroad ; there's no avoiding —
[Shews a pistol.
Flo. Then I must die?
78 THE GENTLEMAN OF VENICE. [Act V.
Cor. Perhaps you have some hope This engine may deceive me, and my fortune Not coming better arm'd, give you the advantage To use your strength upon my single person? I know you are active, but I'll make sure work.
[Exit
Flo. Till now I did not reach the precipice. My heart would mutiny, but my hands are naked, And can do nothing. —
Re-enter CORNARI with Bravos, armed.
A knot of murderers ! — Arm me with a sword, And let me die fighting against you all ; I'll say you're noble hangmen, and not throw One curse among you.
Cor. I've one word to say, sir. — Let none approach. — [To the Bravos.
The fatal doom I threaten'd is revers'd ; Throw off your wonder, and believe you may Live long, if not in Venice ; and your safety Is more confirm'd at distance. You are noble, An honour to your nation. Here is gold ; I know not how you may he furnish'd, sir, For travel hence ; bills of exchange may fail, These will defray a present charge ; betray No wonder ; take it. [ Gives him money.
Flo I'll accept your bounty, And will not ask to whom I owe all this ; Forgive me that I thought you not so honourable ; So, when you please. I'll take my leave.
Cor. Not yet.
By such attendants as you came to me, I have provided, sir, for your departure. — Your duties, gentlemen ; you know my purpose.
[The Bravos blind him, bind and cover him as before> and carry him off,
Sc. II.] THE GENTLEMAN OF VENICE. 79
Re-enter CLAUDIANA.
Cor. Resume thy place within my soul, Clau-
diana ;
When I have done my sorrow for what's past, We'll smile, and kiss for ever.
Enter a Servant with a letter.
Serv. A letter, sir.
Cor. From whence?
Serv. Your nephew, now a prisoner.
Cor. Let him rot ! And give [him] back the paper-kite.
Serv. The messenger is gone.
Cor. Then he expects no answer.
[Takes the letter and gives it to Claudiana.
Clau. You may read it.
Cor. [reads.] — Sir, I send not to you for relief, nor to mediate my pardon ; I have not lived after the rate, to deserve your bread to feed me, nor your breath to save me. I only beg that you would put me into your prayers, and forgiveness ; and believe, I do not wish life, but to redeem myself from past impieties, and satisfy, by a repentance, the disho- nourshave been done to you, by the worst of men —
MALIPIERO. This is not his usual style.
Clau. This miracle may be.
Cor. I do want faith.
Clau. And sent a blessing to reward our peni- tence. Heaven has a spacious charity.
Cor. Thou art all goodness. [Exeunt.
80 THE GENTLEMAN OF VENICE. [Act V.
SCENE III.
A Street.
Enter Bravos with FLORELLI ; they lay him down, uncover and unbind him, and exeunt ; Florelli rises.
Flo. Sure this is gold !
Enter three Gentlemen.
Omnes. Florelli! Flo. The same.
1 Gent. Thy looks are wild.
2 Gent. Where, in the name of wonder, hast
thou been ? Flo. I am dropp'd from the moon.
3 Gent The moon !
Flo. I was §natch'd up in a whirlwind,, And dined and supp'd at Cynthia's own table, Where I drankallyour healths in nectar, gentlemen. Do you want money ? If you have a mind To return viceroys, let's take shipping instantly.
1 Gent. And whither then? Flo. For new discoveries ;
A cloud will take us up at sea.
2 Gent. 'Tis morning.
Flo. To drink, and then aboard ; no matter
whither ; I'll keep this for a monument.
3 Gent. That bag?
Flo. Do not profane it; 'twas Endymion's pillow, Stuff'd with horn shavings of the moon : it had The virtue, when she clapp'd it o'er my head, To bring me thence invisible through the air ; The moon does mobble up herself sometimes in't.
Sc. IV.] THE GENTLEMAN OF VENICE. 81
Where she will shew a quarter face, and was The first that wore a black bag.
1 Gent. But dost hear?
Flo. No inquisitions; if you will leave Venice, Let's drink, and spoom away with the next vessel: A hundred leagues hence, I may tell you wonders. Here is a chime to make king Oberon,
[Sheivs the gold. Queen Mab, and all her fairies turn o' the toe, boys.
2 Gent. He's mad, I think. [Exeunt.
SCENE IV.
An Apartment in the Duke's Palace. Enter URSULA, ROBERTO, and GIOVANNI.
Urs. I could not sleep all this [long] night, for
dreaming Of my poor suckling.
Rob. Peace, I say, and wait In silence, Ursula.
Giov. You may excuse me yet ; I would not see his excellence.
Urs. 'Tis not my meaning, boy, thou should'st
appear,
Unless there be necessity ; you may stay I' the next chamber. [Exit Giov.
Enter a Courtier.
Urs. I beseech you, signior, Is his grace coming forth ?
Cor. Not yet.
Urs. I have an humble suit ; I must deliver A paper to his grace's own hand. I hope his grace can read. [Exit Cour.
Rob. Why, how now, bag-piper? VOL. v. G
82 THE GENTLEMAN OF VENICE [Act V.
Urs. Nay, there's no harm in it ; what if he can ? You will be talking. — Did not I say I would speak all myself?
Rob. But, Urs, what do you think now will
become on's,
When you have told your tale ? Though I am in- nocent,
It will be no great credit, nor much comfort, To see you whipp'd, my Ursula ; I would be Sorry, for my part, to peep through a pillory, And have an even reckoning with my ears, Having no more hair to keep warm and hide The poor concavities.
Urs. Never fear it, husband.
Rob. I will so curse you, Ursula, and, Once a day, bind your body to a pear tree, And thrash your haunches till you stink again ! For aught I know, thou hast committed treason ; Look to't, and bring me off with all my quarters. If I be maim'd, or cropped, I'll flay thee, Ursula, And stuff thy skin with straw, and hang thee up, To keep the fruit from crows ; and after burn it, To kill the caterpillars. Come, be wise in time, And let Thomazo quietly be hang'd, Or headed yet, and talk no more ; he is But one, and has a young neck to endure it. We are old, and shall not shew with half the grace Without our heads ; 'twill be a goodly sight, To see our faces grin upon two poles, To tell the gaping world how we came thither, To perch, and stink in unity ! Be wise, And leave Thomazo to the law.
Urs. Can you be so uncharitable ? Oh, tyrant ! —
Enter Duke and MARINO.
May it please your excellence, my husband and Myself—
Sc.IV.j THE GENTLEMAN OF VENICE. 88
Rob. She has put me in already. [Aside.
Urs. Humbly beseech a pardon for our son.
Duke. Your son Giovanni ? where is he?
Urs. He waits in the next chamber.
Duke. Call him in. [exit UTS.]— What is the
fact?
It must be an offence next treason, if we Deny him pardon.
Rob. I fear 'tis much about the matter. [Aside.
Re-enter URSULA, with GIOVANNI ; they kneel.
Duke. What is the fact ?— Urs. We do beseech you grant a pardon first, And then you shall know all.
Duke. That were preposterous justice. Why dost thou kneel, Giovanni ? Giov. To beg your mercy, sir, To him, for whom my mother kneels.
Duke. She asks thy pardon.
Giov. Mine? let me offend first.
Duke. He's innocent.
Urs. No matter what he says ; My husband knows it.
Rob. She'll make sure of me. [Aside.
Urs. And if your highness will but grant the
pardon,
Your grace shall not repent, but thank me for The blest discovery ; — I'll not bribe your excellence, But I will give you for it, what you'll hold As precious as your dukedom.
Duke. The old woman Raves. You had best send her to the house Of the insani.
Rob. So ! she's to be whipp'd already. [Aside.
Duke. What do you say, Roberto? * *
Rob, I say nothing ;
But that I think my wife will hardly mend upon't.
G2
84 THE GENTLEMAN OF VENICE. \_ActV.
Duke* Upon what?
Rob. On whipping, if it like your highness ; She cannot feel those small corrections : I have taw'd hunting poles and hemp upon her, And yet could do no good.
Urs. Let not your grace mind him ; give me a
pardon,
And if I do not make good all my promise, You shall hang my husband, and flay me alive.
Duke. What's that paper?
Rob. Give't him ; thou should'st have done this afore. — [She gives a paper to the Duke. I am prepar'd ; more bone and flesh upon me, If the business come to a hanging, were a cour- tesy. [Aside.
Urs. Nay, it is there in black and white ; you'll
find it.
Giovanni is your son, that was the gardener ; And he that is in prison, poor Thomazo, My lawfully begotten.
Duke. Chang'd in their infancy !
Urs. And since conceal'd, out of ambition . To see my own a great man.
Rob. I feel the knot under my ear. [Aside.
Urs. 1 durst not trust my husband.
Rob. That was not much amiss. [Aside.
Urs. He has not wit enough to keep my secrets.
Rob. Oh, what a blessing has that man, whose
wife Knows when to hold her peace ! [Aside.
Mar. Sir, if we may compare their tracks of life, I shall believe your nobleness liv'd there In Giovanni, not suppress'd in poverty; And their rude coarse condition, notwithstanding The helps of education, (which seldom Do correct nature,) in Thomazo's low And abject spirit.
Duke. I'm too full ; I must
Sc. IV.] TFIE GENTLEMAN OF VENICE. 85
Disperse my swelling joys, or be dissolv'd.— Summon our friends ; invite Bellaura hither. —
[Exit Mar Art thou my son ?
Giov. I would I were so blest. I owed you duty, sir, before ; and now My knees incline with double force, to humble The doubtful Giovanni.
Duke Let that name Be lost ; take all ray blessings in Thomazo.
Urs. What think you of this, Roberto ?
Rob. Why, I think
The duke is mad ; and when he finds his wits, He'll hang us both yet.
Duke. Now I find the reason And secret of my nature. — But, tell me What, after so long silence, made you now Open the cloud that had conceaFd my son?
Rob. I know not, sir. — Now, Ursula.
Urs. The weakness of a woman, and a mother, That would be loth to see her natural child Die, like a bird upon a bough, for treason. Nature will work : a mother is a mother ; And your son, by the opening of this riddle, Restored, I hope all shall be well again.
Rob. Would I were fair wash'd yet out of my pickle !
Urs. What think you now*?
Rob. I wish I could not think.
Enter Senators and CORNARI,
Cor. We hear of wonders, sir.
Duke. This is my son.
Cor. With our most glad embraces let us hold
you.
Giov. Ever a servant to your gravities, Rob. The sky clears up.
86 THE GENTLEMAN OF VENICE. [Act V.
Re-enter MARINO, with BELLAURA.
Duke. Bellaura, now receive not Giovanni, But Contarini's son, my dear Thorn azo.
Bell My heart hath wings to meet him.
Giov. Oh, my happiness !
Duke, Pause a little.
Rob. I melt again, Ursula ; the duke points at us, And carries fireworks in his eyes.
Duke. Though we did grant a pardon for your
son,
You are subject to the censure of our laws For this imposture.
Rob. I knew 'twould come. Now, tell-tale, will
you beg
The favour we may hang till we be dead ? — Sweet Giovanni Thomazo, speak for us. — Not guilty, my lord, — I am not guilty ; Spare me ; and let my wife be burri'd, or hang'd, Or drown'd, or any thing you shall think fit ; You shall find me reasonable. Who shall beg our pardon ?
Urs. Mercy ! oh, mercy !
Oiov. Let me beseech you for their pardon, sir ; They always used me civilly.
Bell. Let me join.
Sen. And all of us ; this is a day of triumph.
Duke. It shall be so.
Rob. A jubilee ! a jubilee! here comes Thomazo. I shall speak treason presently.
Urs. Now heaven preserve your sweet graces !
Enter THOMAZO and MALIPIERO.
Tho. Mercy, oh, mercy, my indulgent father!
Urs. Art thou come, boy ?
Tho. Boy? stand away, good woman.
Sc. IV.] THE GENTLEMAN OF VENICE, 87
Urs. I have procur'd thy pardon, marry have I, child.
Tho. I would 'twere true ; thou wert ever a lov- ing crone.
Rob. You may believe her, son.
Tho. Son ! the old fellow's mad.
Urs. I say thou artpardon'd.
You must kneel to me, now, and this good old man, And ask us blessing.
Mar. Your name is prov'd Giovanni, now ; the
duke Has found another son. .
Tho. What shall become of me ?
Duke. You shall be only punish'd to return, And dig as he hath done, and change your name To Giovanni. Nature was not willing You should forget your trade.^ — Where's my Tho- rn azo?
Tho. Are you my father1?
Rob. So my wife assures me.
Tho. Are you my mother ?
Urs. Ay, my dear child. *
Tho. And you signior Thomazo, that was I ?
Giov. And you Giovanni, with the inside out- ward.
Tho. And must I be a gardener ? 1 am glad on't. Pray give me a couple of blessings, and a spade, And fico for this frippery ! I'll thank My destiny, that has yet kept my thread To a better use than hanging.
Cor. Let nothing
Of punishment profane this day. I must Implore your mercy upon this young man,
[Pointing to Malipiero. Whose future life may recompense his past Impieties, and make him serviceable To honour, and good men.
Duke. You shew a charity,
88 THE GENTLEMAN OF VENICE. [ActV.
If I have heard a truth in some sad stories. He's your's, and pardon 'd.
Mai. You're a miracle Of goodness ; 'tis too much to look upon, Whom I have with such impudence offended. Command me, sir, abroad, until by some Years well ernploy'd, a penance for rny crimes, I may be thought one worthy to be own'd Your kinsman.
Duke. Again welcome, my Thornazo, My dearest pledge ; till now I was no father : In him, the want of hope my thoughts oppressed ; In thee, my fortunes and my name are blest.
[Exeunt.
THE
POLITICIAN
THE POLITICIAN.] This drama does not appear to have been licensed by the Master of the Revels ; but as it was written for the house in Salisbury Court, and published at the same time with the two other pieces we possess, which Shirley wrote for that theatre, viz. the Changes, or Love in a Maze, and the Gentleman of Venice, I am inclined to assign as the time of its first appearance, a date not later than 1639. Indeed it is pos- sible that it may have been represented while the poet was in Ireland, and to this circumstance may also be owing the absence of a prologue in the old copy. It was not printed till 1655; the title is : The Polititian, a Tragedy, Presented at Salisbury Court by her Majesties Servants ; Written by James Shirley.
Langbaine says he had read a story resembling the plot, in the first book of the countess of Montgomery's Urania.
TO THE VERY MUCH HONOURED
•WALTER MOYLE, ESQ. >H
SIR,
I HOUGH the severity of the times took away those dramatic recreations, (whose language so much glorified the English scene,) and perhaps looking at some abuses oj the common theatres, which were not so happily purged from scurrility and under-ivit, (the only entertainment of vulgar capacities,} they have outed the more noble and in- genious actions of the eminent stages ; the rage yet hath not been epidemical. There are left many lovers of this exiled poesy, who are great masters of reason, and that dare conscientiously own this musical part of human learning, when it is presented ivithout the stains of impudence and profanation.
Among these persons, sir, you deserve an honourable inscription. For my own part, this is the last which is like to salute the public view in this kind ; and I have only to say, that I congratulate my own happiness to conclude with so judicious a patron.
To make a doubt of your fair receiving this piece, were to dishonour your character, and make myself undeserving. Read at your leisure, what is humbly presented to your eye and judgment, while 1 preserve my confidence in your virtue, and good thoughts upon,
Sir, the most humble honourer
of your worth,
.LIMES SHIRLEY.
DRAMATIS PERSON^.*
King of Norway.* Gotharus, THE POLITICIAN.' Turgesius, the prince.3 Duke Olaus, the king's uncle 4 Haraldus, son to Marpisa.5 Reginalds,? to>w Aquinus, 3
U°rmenus> } honest courtiers. Cortes, J
court parasites.
Physicians.
Servant to Gothams.
Soldiers, Rebels, Attendants, Petitioners, Officers,
Marpisa, the queen.* Albina, wife to Gotharus/ Waiting -ic oman to Albina.
SCENE, the Capital of Norway.
* The 4to. has, as in the preceding play, " The names and small Characters of the Persons :— *the '* small characters" are as under :
1 Easy and credulous in his nature, and passionately doting upon queen Marpisa.
* Active to serve his pleasures and ambition, a great favourite of the queen.
3 Of a gallant disposition, and honoured by the soldier.
4 Old, choleric, and distasted with the court proceedings ; disaffected to Gotharus and the queen, but resolute and faithful to the prince.
5 Young, of a sweet and noble disposition, whom Gotharus would form more bold, and ambitious for the greatness he had designed.
6 A proud, subtle, and revengeful lady ; from the widow of count Altomarus advanced to royal condition, by the practice of her creature and confident, Gotharus.
7 A virtuous but suffering lady, under the tyranny of an imperious and disloyal husband.
THE
POLITICIAN.
ACT I. SCENE I.
A O alter y in the Palace.
Enter CORTES and HORMENUS.
Cor. It was a strange and sudden marriage.
HOT. Could he not love her for the game, and
so forth,
But he must thus exalt her? no less title Than queen, to satisfy her ambition (\
Cor. 'Tis a brave rise!
Hor. I did not prophesy,
When the honest count, her husband, Altoraarus, Lived, she would bring us on our knees.
Cor. I hope She'll love the king for't.
Hor. And, in his absence, Gothams, the king's minion, her old friend : He has done this royal service ; beside, what Rests on accompts in her old husband's days. 1 do suspect her son, Haraldus, was Got with more heat and blood, than Altoraarus* Age could assure her ; but he's dead.
Cor. God be with him ! Although I will not make oath for her chastity,
94 THE POLITICIAN. [Act I.
That boy's good nature is an argument To me, Gotharus had no share in him : He's honest, of a gentle disposition, And, on my conscience, does pray sometimes.
Enter GOTHARUS, with a letter.
Hor. No more ; we have a wolf by the ear.
What news
From hell? He cannot want intelligence, he has So many friends there. — He's displeas'd ; there is Some goodness in that letter, I will pawn My head, that makes him angry.
Enter some with petitions, Gotharus frowns upon them ; they retire hastily.
How his frown
Hath scatter'd them like leaves ! they fly from him As nimbly as their bodies had no more weight Than their petitions. I would give an eye-tooth, To read but three lines. t
Goth. Curse upon his victory ! I meant him not this safety, when I wrought The king to send him forth to war ; but hoped His active spirit would have met some engine, To have translated him to another world : He's now upon return. [Exit.
Hor. Would I had but
The harrowing of your skull ! My genius gives me, That paper is some good news of the prince ; I would I knew it but concern'd him !
Cor. 'Twas
My wonder, the king would send his son abroad, To wars, the only pledge of his succession.
Hor. He had a counsellor, this Politician, That would prefer the prince to heaven, a place His lordship has no hope to be acquainted with.
&.I.] THE POLITICIAN. 96
The prince, and his great-uncle, duke Olaus, Would not allow these pranks of state, nor see The king betrayed to a concubine ; Therefore, it was thought fit they should be en-
gag'd To foreign dangers.
ALBINA and her Waiting-woman cross the stage.
'Tis madam Albina, Our great man's wife.
Cor. The king did seem to affect her, Before he married her to his favourite.
Hor. Dost think she's honest?
Cor. I'll not stake my soul on't ; But I believe she is too good for him, Although the king and she have private conference.
Hor. She looks as she were discontent.
Cor. She has cause,
In being Golharus' wife. Some say she lov'd him Most passionately.
Hor. Twas her destiny : Site has him now, and if she love him still, Tis not impossible she may be a martyr ; His proud and rugged nature will advance Her patience to't.
Enter HELOA and SUENO.
Hel. Avoid the gallery.
Sue. The king is coming. — Oh, my lord, your
pardon. Nay, we must all obey.
Cor. I never liked This fellow.
Hor. He is one of fortune's minions : The love of the choice ladies of the laundry ; That's one that draws in the same team, but more
96
THE POLITICIAN. \_Actl
Inclined to the knave ; he is a kind of pendant To the king's ear, an everlasting parasite. The kino- ! Albina return'd with him !
The king ! Albina return
[Exeunt Cor. and Hor.
Enter King and ALBINA.
King. Leave us. — [Exeunt Sue. and Hel. You are most unkind to yourself, in my opinion ; You know well who I am, and what I have Advanced you to. Neither in virgin state, Nor marriage, to allow your king a favour?
Alb. Sir, let the humble duty of a subject, Who shall with zealous prayers solicit heaven For you, and your fair queen —
King. Had you been wise, That might have been your title ; but the god Of love had with his arrow so engraven Gotharus in your heart, you had no language But what concerned his praise, scarce any thought At liberty. I did imagine, when I had compassion of your sufferings, •
And gave you a fair bride to my uotharus, You would not lose the memory of my benefit, But (now in state, and nature to reward it,) Consented to return me love.
Alb. Be pleas'd To excuse the boldness of one question.
King. Be free, Albina.
Alb. Do not you love my husband?
King. There wants no testimony ; beside the rest, My giving thee to him, dear to my thoughts, Is argument I love him.
Alb. Would you take
Me back again ? you but betray 'd his faith. And your own gift, to tempt me to forsake him.
King. You are more apprehensive ; if you please, He shall possess you still ; I but desire
&.I.] THE POLITICIAN. 97
Sometimes a near and loving conversation ; Though he should know 't, considering how much I may deserve, he would be wise enough To love thee ne'er the worse : he's not the first Lord that hath purchas'd offices by the free Surrender of his wife to the king's use ; 'Tis frequent in all commonwealths to lend Their play- fellows to a friend.
Alb. Oh, do not think Gothams can be worth your love, to be So most degenerate, and lost to honour. You have a queen, to whom your vow is sacred ; Be just to her ; the blessing is yet warm Pronounced by th' holy priest ; stain not a passion To wander from that beauty, richer far Than mine : let your souls meet, and kiss each
other,
That while you live the examples of chaste love, (Most glorious in a king and queen,) we may Grow up in virtue by the spring of yours, Till our top-boughs reach heaven.
King. You are resolv'd then We must be strangers ? Should my life depend On the possession of your bosom, I Should languish and expire, I see.
Alb. Good heaven
Will not permit the king want so much goodness, To think the enjoying of forbidden pleasure Could benefit his life ; rather let mine Ebb at some wound, and wander with my blood, By your command ta'en from me. On rny knee —
[Kneels.
King. Rise ; I may kiss, Albina — [Kisses her.
Enter behind GOTHARUS.
Goth. Ha! King. T has shot Another flame into me. Come, you must —
VOL. V. H
98 THE POLITICIAN. [Act I.
Alb. What?
King. Be a woman ; do't, or I'll complain.
Alb. To whom ?
King. Thy husband.
Goth. Horror!
King. Think upon't. [Exit.
Alb. What will become of miserable Albina? Like a poor deer, pursu'd to a steep precipice, That overlooks the sea, by some fierce hound. The lust of a wild king doth threaten here, Before me ; the neglects of him I love, Gothams, my unkind lord, like the waves, And full as deaf, affright me.
Goth, [coming forward.] — How now, madam? Come, can you kiss ? [Kisses her.
Alb. Kiss, sir?
Goth. What difference
Between his touch and mine now? his, perhaps, Was with more heat, but mine was soft enough. What has he promised thee ? but that's no matter ; Thou wilt be wise enough to make thy bargain : I father all ; only the king shall give it A name ; he'll make it master of a province.
Alb What means my lord?
Goth. Thou think'st I am jealous now ; not I ;
I knew
Before, he doated on thee ; and it is To be presumed, having a veil to hide Thy blushes, (I do mean our marriage,) Thou rnay'st find out some time to meet, and
mingle
Stories and limbs ; it may be necessary. And 'cause I will be dutiful to the king, We will converse no more abed ; I'll be Thy husband still, Albina, and wear my buds Under my hair close, like a prudent statesman. But 'twere not much amiss, as I advis'd Before, and these new premises consider'd,
Sc. I.] THE POLITICIAN. 99
You appear abroad with a less train ; your ward- robe
Will make you more suspected, if it be Too rich ; and some whole days to keep your
chamber,
Will make the king know where to find you certain. Alb. Will you have patience, my lord, to hear
me? Goth. The world doth partly think thee honest
too;
That will help much, if you observe good rules And diet, without tedious progresses, And visiting of ladies, expert in Night revels, masques, and twenty other torments To an estate. Your doctors must be left too ; I will not pay a fee to have your pulse Felt, and your hand roll'd up like wax, by one Whose footcloth must attend, while he makes legs, And every other morning comes to tell Your ladyship a story out of Aretine ; That can set you a longing for diseases, That he may cure you, and your waiting- woman, (Whose curiosity would taste your clyster,) Commend the operation from her stomach. Should you be sick, and sick to death, I would Not counsel you to physic. Women are Frail things ; and should a cordial miscarry, My conscience would be arraign'd, and I Might be suspected for your poisoner. No, no, I thank you ; you are in a fine course To ease me, wife ; or, if you must be loose T the spring and fall, let the king bear the charges : He will, if you apply yourself.
Alb. I am wretched !
Why do you, without hearing, thus condemn me1? The lady lives not with a purer faith To her lov'd lord, than I have ; nor shall greatness, Nor death itself, have power to break it, [Weeps.
H2
100 THE POLITICIAN. [Act I.
Goth. Come,
These are but painted tears : leave this. Have you Prepare! your last accompts ? Alb. They are ready, sir. — Never was lady slav'd thus like Albina. A stipendiary ! worse, a servile steward, To give him an accomptof all my expenses !
Goth. I'll have it so, in spite of custom's heart, While you are mine ; accountless liberty Is ruin of whole families. Now leave me ; We may talk more anon, [exit Alb.~\—l have ob-
serv'd
This privacy before. Search here, Gotharus ; 'Tis here from whence mutinous thoughts, con- spiring
With witty melancholy, shall beget A strong-born mischief. I'll admit she be Honest; I love her not; and if he tempt her To sin, that's paid him back in his wife's loose- ness,
From whom I took my first ambition, And must go on, till we can sway the kingdom, Though we climb to't o'er many deaths. I first Practise at home ; my unkindness to Albina, If she do love me, must needs break her heart.
Enter HARALDUS.
Har. My honour'd lord.
Goth. Most dear Haraldus, welcome, Preciously welcome to Gotharus' heart !
Har. The queen, my mother, sir, would speak with you,
Goth. How excellently do those words become
thee!
'Tis fit Haraldus' mother be a queen ; Thou'rt worth a princely fate. I will attend her.
Har. I'll tell her so/
Sc.L] THE POLITICIAN. 101
Goth. Tis not an office for you.
Har. It is my duty, sir, to wait upon My mother.
Goth. Who i' the court is not your servant? You do not exercise command enough ; You are too gentle in your fortunes, sir, And wear your greatness as you were not born To be a prince.
Har. My birth, sure, gave me not That title ; I was born with the condition To obey, not govern.
Goth. Do not wrong those stars, Which, early as you did salute the world, Design'd this glorious fate. ' I did consult, And in the happy minute of thy birth, Collect what was decreed in heaven about thee.
Har. Those books are 'bove my reading ; but
whate'er
My stars determine of me, 'tis but late I heard my mother say, you are on earth, To whom I am most bound for what I am.
Goth. 'Tis a shrewd truth, if thou knew'st all.
[Aside.
Har. You have Been more a father than a friend to us.
Goth Friend to thy mother, I confess, in private, The other follows by a consequence. — [Aside. A father, my Haraldus ! I confess I was from thy nativity inclin'd By a most strange and secret force of nature, Or sympathy, to love thee like my own ; And let me tell thee, though thy mother had Merit enough to engage my services, Yet there was something more in thee consider'd, That rais'd my thoughts, and study to advance Thee to these pregnant hopes of state : methinks I see thee a king already. Har. Good sir, do not
102 THE POLITICIAN. [Act I-
Prompt me to that ambition ; I possess Too much already ; and I could, so pleas 'd My mother, travel where 1 should not hear Of these great titles: and it comes now aptly, I should entreat your lordship to assist me In a request to her. I know she loves you, And will deny you nothing; I would fain Visit the university for study ; I do Jose time, methinks.
Goth. Fie ! Haraldus ;
And leave the court? How you forget yourself! Study to be king. I shall half repent my care, If you permit these dull and phlegmatic Thoughts to usurp ; they'll stifle your whole reason. Catch at the sun, divest him of his beams, And in your eye wear his proud rays ; let day Be when you smile ; and when your anger points, Shoot death in every frown. Covet a shade, Affect a solitude, and books, and forfeit So brave an expectation !
Bar. Of what?
Goth. Of Norway's crown.
Har. Could there be any thought Within me so ambitious, with what hope Could it be cherish'd, when 1 have no title?
Goth. I, that have thus far studied thy fortune, May find a way.
Har. The king —
Goth. Is not immortal while he has physicians.
Har. What's that he said ?— The king is happy ; And the whole nation treasure up their hopes In prince Turgesius, who, with his great-uncle, Valiant Olaus—
Goth. Are sent to the wars, where 'twill con- cern them
To think of fame, and how to march to honour Through death.
Har. I dare not hear him. [Aside.
Sc.L] THE POLITICIAN. 103
Goth. Or, if they Return —
Har. They will be welcome to all good Men's hearts ; and, next the king, none with more
j°y
Congratulate their safeties than yourself. I am confident, my lord, you will remember To see my mother, and excuse me if, To finish something else I had in charge, I take my leave. All good dwell with your lord- ship! [Exit. Goth. But that I have Marpisa's faith, I could Suspect him not the issue of my blood ; He is too tame and honest: — at his years 1 was prodigiously in love with greatness. — Or, if not mine, let him inherit but His mother's soul ; she has pride enough and spirit To catch at flames ; his education Has been too soft ; I must new form the boy Into more vice and daring. Strange we must Study at court how to corrupt our children !
Enter MARPISA.
The queen !
Marp. My expectation to speak With thee, Gothams, was too painful to me ; I fear we are all undone : dost hear the news? The prince is coming back with victory ; Our day will be o'ercast.
Goth. These eyes will force A brighter from those clouds. Are not you queen ?
Marp. But how Turgesius and his bold uncle Will look upon me !
Goth. Let them stare out Their eye-balls ; be you mistress still of the King's heart, and let their gall spout in their sto- mach ; We'll be secure.
104 THE POLITICIAN. {Act I.
Marp. Thou art my fate.
Goth. I must confess
I was troubled when I heard it first, Seem not You pale at their return ; but put on smiles To grace their .triumph. Now you have most need Of woman's art, dissemble cunningly.
Marp. My best Gothams !
Goth They shall find stratagems in peace more
fatal
Than all the engines of the war. What mischief Will not Gotharus fly to, to assure The fair Marpisa's greatness, and his own, In being her's, an empire 'bove the world ! There is a heaven in either eye, that calls My adoration ; such Promethean fire As, were I struck dead in my works, should'st thou But dart one look upon me, it would quicken My cold dust, and inform it with a soul More daring than the first.
Marp. Still my resolv'd Gotharus !
Goth. Let weak statesmen think of conscience, I am arm'd against a thousand stings, and laugh at The tales of hell, and other worlds ; we must Possess our joys in this, and know no other But what our fancy every minute shall Create to please us.
Marp. This is harmony.
How dull is the king's language ! I could dwell Upon thy lips ; why should not we engender At every sense *?
Goth. Now you put me in mind, The pledge of both our hopes and blood, Haraldus, Is not well bred ; he talks too morally ; He must have other discipline, and be fashion'd For our great aims upon him ; a crown never Became a stoic. Pray let me commend Some conversation to his youth.
SC.L-] THE POLITICIAN. 105
Marp. He is thine.
Enter HELGA.
Goth. He shall be every way my own.
Hel. The king desires your presence, madam.
Marp. I attend.— You'll follow. [Exit.
Goth. Thee to death, and triumph in My ruins for thy sake. A thousand forms Throng in my brain ; that is the best which speeds. Who looks at crowns must have no thought who bleeds. [Exeunt.
ACT II. SCENE I.
An Apartment in the Palace. Enter King, HORMENUS, CORTES, and SUENO.
King. This music doth but add to melancholy ; I'll hear no more.
Cor. He's strangely moved.
Hor. I cannot think a cause ; You were wont to fool him into mirth. Where's
Helga,
Your dear companion ? No device between you To raise his thoughts ?
Sue. I am nothing without my fellow , Music is best in consort.
Hor. Your buffoonery Is musical, belike?
Cor. Your jugglers cannot do some o' their tricks Without confederacy.
Sue. I'll try alone. — IPt please your majesty, there is —
106 THE POLITICIAN. [Actll.
King. That, [Striken him.
For your unseasonable and saucy fooling.
Hor. That was a musical box o' the ear.
King. Leave us !
Cor. 'Tis nothing without a fellow ; he knows
music Is best in consort. [Exit.
Sue. Would you had your parts ! [Exit-
King. Hormenus, you may stay.
Hor. Your pleasure, sir ?
King. Men do account thee honest —
Hor. It is possible I may fare the worse. [Aside,
King. And wise ; canst tell the cause why I am sad?
Hor. Not I, sir.
King. Nor I myself. 'Tis strange I should be
subject To a dull passion, and no reason for it.
Hor. These things are frequent.
King. Sometimes ominous, And do portend
Hor. If you enjoy a health, What is in fate?
King. I am king still, am I not ?
Hor We are all happy in't ; And when time shall, with the consent of nature, Call you, an old man, from this world to heaven, May he that shall succeed you, prince Turgesius, The glory of our hope, be no less fortunate!
King. My son ; I was too rash to part with him.
Hor. We should
Have thought his stay a blessing, and did wish You would not have expos'd such tender years To the rough war ; but your commands met with His duty, and our obedience.
King. It is very
&.I.] THE POLITICIAN. 107
Strange we of late hear no success ; I hope This sadness is not for his loss. He has A kinsman with him loves him dearly. — 'Tis The queen.
Enter MARPISA and HELGA.
I feel my drooping thoughts fall off, And my clouds fly before the wind; her presence Hath an infusion to restore dead nature. — My sweet, my dear Marpisa !
Marp. You sent for me.
King. I am but the shadow of myself without thee.
Re-enter CORTES and SUENO.
No wonder I was sad ; my soul had placed All her delight in these fair eyes, and could not But think itself an exile in thy absence. Why should we ever part, but chain ourselves Together thus ?
Sue. He's in a better humour, I hope. I do not think but his majesty would cuff well ; His hand carries a princely weight.
Hel. A favour.
Sue. Would you might wear such another in your ear !
King. Come hither — on this side.
Sue. You were on that side before.
King. Would 'st not thou lose thy life, to do a
service My queen would smile upon?
Sue. Alas ! my life Is the least thing to be imagin'd ; he Is not a faithful subject would refuse To kill his wife and children, after that To hang himself, to do the queen a service.
King. C6me hither, Helga.
108 THE POLITICIAN. [ActU.
Hel. Royal sir.
King. What would Affright thy undertaking, to deserve The least grace from my queen?
Hel. I cannot tell ;
But I have an opinion the devil could not My life is nothing, sir ; to obtain her favour, I would hazard more: I have heard talk of hell ; So far she should command me.
Hor. Bless me, goodness ! What wretched parasites are these ! how can The king be patient at them ! Here is flattery So thick and gross, it would endure a hand-saw.
Cor. His judgment's, I fear, stupified.
Hor. Come hither ;
Which of you can resolve what serpent spawn'd you?
Sue. You are pleasant.
Hel. My good lord, it hurts not you ; There is necessity of some knaves ; and so Your lordship be exempted, why should you Trouble yourself, and murmur at our courses ?
Enter AQUINUS hastily.
Aqu. The king ! Hel Peace ! Sue. Your business? Aqu. News from the field ! Sue. Good ? Aqu. Good. Hel How? Sue. How, prithee?
Aqu. The day, the field, the safety, O, the glory Of war is Norway's, Letters to the king ! Hel Give them to me. Sue. Or me.
&.I.] THE POLITICIAN. 109
Hel. Trust not a fool with things of conse- quence ; He's the king's mirth ; let me present the news.
Sue. Sir, I should know you ; this is a knave Would take to him all the glory of your report ; If please you, let me present the letters.
Hel My liege !
Sue. My sovereign !
Hel. News !
Sue. Good news !
Hel. Excellent news !
Sue. The prince —
Hel. The prince is —
Sue. The enemy is— o'erthrown.
Hel. They have lost the day.
Sue. Defeated utterly.
Hel. And are all slain.
Sue. Madam, will you hear the news ?
King. Say on ; what is't you would relate ?
Hel. One of my creatures, sir, hath brought you letters : [Aquinus delivers the letters.
My servant, sir ; one strengtheri'd to your service Out of my maintenance, an instrument of mine ; So please you to consider my duty in his service.
Aqu. Why, hark you, gentlemen ; I have but
mock'd
Your greedy zeals ; there's no such matter in Those letters as you have told ; we have lost all, And the prince taken prisoner. Will you not Stay for the reward? You know I'm but your
creature ;
I look for nothing but your courtly faces To pay my travel.
Hel. W e will not appear yet. [Exe. Hel. and Sue.
Aqu. How the rats vanish !
King. Read here, my best Marpisa, news that
makes A triumph in my heart, great as the conquest
110 THE POLITICIAN. [Act II.
Upon our enemies. — Horraenus, Cortes,
Our son will prove a soldier.— Was my sadness
Omen to this good fate? or nature fear'd
The ecstacy of my joy would else o'ercome me ?
They are return'd victorious.
HOT. Thanks to heaven !
King. And some reward is due to thee ; wear that For the king's sake. [Owes him a ring.
Aqu. You too much honour me.
King. But something in Marpisa's face shews
not
So clear a joy as we express.— Forbear ; Wait till we call, [exeunt Cor. Hor. and Aqu.~\ —
Can this offend my queen, To hear of happiness to my son? O, let Thv eyes look bright ; their shine hath force to
make
The wreath of laurel grow upon his temples. Why dost thou weep? this dew will kill the vic- tory, And turn his bay to cypress.
Marp. Witness, heaven,
There's not a tear that mourns for him ; his safety And conquest is most welcome, and he shall Have still my prayers he may grow up in fame, And all the glorious fortunes of a prince : But, while my wishes fly to heaven for blessings Upon his head, at the same time I must Remember in what miserable condition My stars have placed me.
King. What can make thy state Guilty of such a name, and so deject Thy nobler thoughts? Am not I still the king, And is not fair Marpisa mine by marriage ? Crown 'd here my queen immortally?
Marp. Though 1 be, By royal bounty of your love, possess'd Of that great title, sir, I have some fears.
&. I.] THE POLITICIAN. Ill
King. You amaze me ! speak thy doubts at large.
Marp. The prince,
Dear to your love, and I still wish him so, Dear to your people's hearts, I fear, will think Our marriage his dishonour; and Olaus, Your passionate uncle, no good friend of mine, When he shall see to what a height your love And holy vow hath rais'd me, most unworthy, Will but salute Marpisa with his scorn ; And by his counsel, or some ways of force, Unchain our hearts, and throw me from your bosom To death, or, worse, to shame. Oh, think upon me, And, if you have one fear that's kin to mine, Prevent their tyranny, and give me doom Of exile, ere their cruelty arrive : I'll take my sentence kindly from your lips. Though it be killing.
King. Let my son or uncle Dare but affront thee in a look, I shall Forget the ties of nature, and discharge them Like the corruption in my blood.
Marp. lean
Submit myself to them ; and, would you please To allow my humbleness no stain lo what You have advanced me to, I can be their servant, And with as true a duty wait upon them —
King. Thou art all goodness ; twenty kingdoms
are Too little for thy dowry.— Who attends? —
Re-enter HORMENUS, CORTES, and AQUINUS.
Thus every minute I will marry thee,
And wear thee in my heart, {kisses her.]— Vanish
the thought
Of all thy sex beside, and what can else Attempt our separation ! thou art obscure, And livest in court but like a masking star, Shut from us by the unkindness of a cloud,
112 THE POLITICIAN. [Act II.
When Cynthia goes to revels. I will have
A chariot for my queen, richer than e'er
Was shewn in Roman triumph, and thou shalt
Be drawn with horses white as Venus' doves,
Till heaven itself, in envy of our bliss,
Snatch thee from earth, to place thee in his orb,
The brightest constellation.
Cor. He dotes strangely !
King Hormenus, Cortes, I would have you all Search your inventions to advance new joys ; Proclaim all pleasures free ; and while my fair Queen smiles, it shall be death for any man I' the court to frown. [Exeunt King and Marp.
Hor. You have not so much love i' the court, Aquinus.
Cor. How do you like the queen ?
Aqu. Why, she's not married ? He does but call her so.
Hor. And lies with her.
Aqu. The prince yet knows it not.
Hor. He'll meet it, coming home.
Enter GOTHARUS.
Goth. Aquinus ! [Takes Aqu. aside.
Aqu. Sir.
Goth. You brought letters from the camp ?
Aqu. I did, my lord.
Hor. What, in the name of policy, is now hatch- ing?
I do not like those fawning postures in him. How kind they are !
Cor. That soldier is thought honest.
Hor. But if he cringe once more I shall suspect
him ; That leg confirms he is corrupt already.
Goth. How does he like his father's marriage ?
Aqu. We had no fame on't there when I set forth.
&.I.] THE POLITICIAN. 113
Goth. 'Twas strange and sudden ; but we are all
happy
In the good prince's health and victory : The duke Olaus, too, I hope, is well1?
Aqu. He was design 'd, at my departure, to Be here before the army.
Goth. He will be welcome. You shall accept the price of a new armour ; And wherein any power of mine can serve you T the court, command.
Aqu. I am your lordship's creature.
{Exeunt Goth, and Aqu.
Hor. They are gone. I long to see the prince : How do you think his highness will Behave himself to his new mother-queen? Will it be treason not to ask her blessing ?
Cor. I am confident his uncle, brave Olaus,
Enter behind, HAR ALDUS.
Will not run mad for joy of the king's marriage.
Hor. Let them look to't, there may be altera- tions.
Har. They talk, sure, of my mother and the king.
Hor. Secure as they account themselves, the
prince
Must be receiv'd, spite of Marpisa's greatness, And all the tricks of her incarnate fiend, Gotharus, who both plot, I fear, to raise That [bastard] composition of their blood, Haraldus —
Har. How was that ?
Hor. The strange effect Of their luxurious appetites; though in him, Poor innocence, suspecting not their sin, We read no such ambition.
Har. Oh my shame ! VOL. v. I
114 THE POLITICIAN. [Act II.
What have my ears receiv'd ? am I a bastard ?
Tis malice that doth wound my mother s honour :
How many bleed at once ! Yet, now 1 call
To memory, Gothams, at our loving
Late conference, did much insult upon
The name of a father, and his care of me
By some strange force of nature. Ha ! my fears
Shoot an ice through me ; I must know the truth,
Although it kill me. [Exit.
Cor. Who was that ? Haraldus ?
HOT. I hope he did not hear us ? Again Go- thams, And the two squirrels'? more devices yet.
Re-enter GOTHARUS, SUENO, and HELGA.
Sue. Let us alone, my lord, we'll quicken him.
Goth. You must use all your art to win him to't.
Hel. Let us alone to make him drink ; we are The credit of the court for that : He's but a child, alas ! we'll take our time.
Enter OLAUS, attended by his Officers.
Olaus, Hormenus.
Hor< My good lord Olaus, I Joy in your safe return. How fares the prince ?
Olaus. Well. Where's the king?
Hor. Kissing his new-made queen, Marpisa.
Olaus. Ha! The king is married then ?
Goth. Away! [exeunt Sueno and Helga.] The duke Olaus ! — Sir~
Olaus. I am too stiff for complement, my lord ; I have rid hard — [Exit.
Goth. He has met the intelligence, And is displeased with the state of things at home.
&.!.]' THE POLITICIAN. 115
This marriage stings him ; let it ; we must have
No trembling hearts, nor fall into an ague,
Like children at the sight of a portent :
But, like a rock, when wind and waves go highest,
And the insulting billows dash against
Her ribs, be unmov'd. The king must be saluted
With other letters, which must counterfeit
The prince's character. I was his secretary,
And know the art. Malice inspire my brain,
To poison his opinion of his son ;
I'll form it cunningly. —
Re-enter HAR ALDUS.
Ha ! 'tis Haraldus. He looks sad.
Har. I dare not ask
My mother ; 'twere a crime but one degree Beneath the sinful act that gave me life, To question her ; and yet to have this fright Dwell in my apprehension, without The knowledge of some truth, must needs distract My poor wits quite. Tis he ! I will take boldness, And know the worst of him. If I be what I am already charactered, he can Resolve my shame too well.
Goth. How is't, my lord ?
Har. Never so ill, sir,
Goth. Art sick?
Har. Most dangerously.
Goth. Where?
Har. Here, at heart ; which bleeds with such a
wound, As none but you can cure.
Goth. I'll drop my soul Into it ; shew me how I may Be thy physician ; — to restore thy blood, I will lose all mine. Speak, child.
Har. This very love
12
116 THE POLITICIAN. [ II.
Is a fresh suffering; and your readiness
To cure my sorrow is another wound.
You are too kind ; why are you so? What is,
Or can be thought in me, fit to deserve it?
Goth. Thou dost talk wildly, to accuse me thus For loving thee. Could the world tempt me here, And court me with her glories to forsake thee, Thus I would dwell about thy neck, and not Be bought from kissing thee, for all her provinces: There is a charm upon my soul to love thee, And I must do't.
Har. Then I must die.
Goth. Forbid It, gentler fates !
Har. If I could hear you wish Me dead, I should have hope to live. Although I would not willingly deserve your anger, By any impious deed, you do not know What comfort it would be, to hear you curse me.
Goth. He's mad. — Haraldus, prithee do not talk so.
Har. Or, if you thinka curse toomuch to help me, Yet rail upon me ; but do't heartily, and call me —
Goth. What?
Har. Villain, or bastard, sir, The worst is best from you.
Goth. Thou dost amaze me.
Har. Will you not for me ? Then, for my mother's sake, if you do love her, Or ever did esteem her worth your friendship, Let me entreat you draw your sword, and give me Something to wear in blood upon my bosom ; Write but one letter of your name upon My breast, I'll call you father. By your love, Do something that may make me bleed a little. Goth. By that I dare not, thou hast nam'd,
Haraldus, — A father.
&.I.] THE POLITICIAN 11T
Har. I but call you so ; I know You are a stranger to my blood ; although Indeed to me your great affection Appears a wonder ; nor can nature shew More in a parent to a child ; but if I be—
Goth. What?
Har. 1 shall blush, sir, to pronounce it ; There's something that concerns my mother, will
not
Give it a name ; yet I would be resolv'd, That I might place my duty right. If I Must answer to your son, you may imagine I shall no more ask you a reason why You have been so kind to me, and to my mother.
Goth. Thou hast said it ; thou'rt mine own ;
'twas nature in me, That could not hide the actions of a father.
Har. I am your base seed then ?
Goth. Stain not thyself
With such a name ; but look upon thy mother, Now made a queen.
Har. You made her first a strumpet, And it would ask the piety of her son, To die upon that man that stole her honour. Why did you so undo us ? why did you Betray my mother to this shame? or, when She had consented, why should both your lusts Curse my unsinning heart? Oh, I must be, For your vice, scorn'd, though innocent!
Goth. None dare —
Har. I should not, by your virtue, have been
sav'd.
Where shall I hide my life T I must no more Converse with men —
Goth. Thou art too passionate.
Har. I will entreat my mother we may go Into some wilderness, where we may find
118 THE POLITICIAN. [Act II.
Some creatures that are spotted like ourselves, And live and die there ; be companion To the wild panther, and the leopard ; yet They are too good for [our] converse. We are By our's defil'd ; their spots do make them fair.
[Exit.
Goth. 'Tis time that Sueno and his companion Dispersed these clouds. Now to the king, with
whom,
If the queen's beauty keep her magic, then Our engines mount, and day grows bright agen.
[Exit.
ACT III. SCENE I.
An Apartment in the Palace.
King, MARPISA, OLAUS, REGINALDUS, AQUI- NUS, and HELGA.
King. Uncle, I am glad to see you.
Olaus. I am not glad To see you, sir; —
King. Not me?
Olaus. Consorted thus.
King. If Olaus be forgetful of good manners, I shall forget his years and blood ; be temperate.
Olaus. There's something in your blood that will
undo
Your state and fame eternally ; purge that. You know I never flatter'd you ; that woman Will prove thy evil genius.
King. You're too saucy.
OWDonotIknowher[,sir]? was she not wife 1 o the count Altomarus, a weak lord,
SC.L] THE POLITICIAN. 119
But too good for her ; charm'd by the flattery And magic of her face and tongue, to dote, And marry her? Born of a private family, Advanced thus, she grew insolent, and, I fear, By pride and liberty, and some trick she had, Broke her good husband's heart.
Marp. Sir, you much wrong me ; And now exceed the privilege of your birth To injure mine.
Olaus. We all know you can plead Your own defence ; you have a woman's wit ; Heaven send you equal modesty ; I am plain.
Marp. It would be held an insolence in others, And saucy boldness in the sacred presence Thus of the king, to accuse whom he hath pleas'd To take companion of his bed ; and though It would become the justice of my cause And honour, to desire these black aspersions May be examin'd further, and the author CalTd to make proof of such a passionate language, (Which will betray his accusation was But envy of my fortunes,) I remember You're the king's uncle ; and 'tis possible You may be abus'd by some malicious tale, Fram'd to dishonour me : and therefore I Beseech you humbly, sir, to let this pass But as an act in him of honest freedom — Beside what else may give [him] privilege, Being a soldier, and not us'd to file His language, blunt and rugged ways of speech Becoming his profession.
Olaus. Very good !
Although we have not the device of tongue, And soft phrase, madam, which you make an idol At court, and use it to disguise your heart ; We can speak truth in our unpolish'd words. Thou art—
Marp. What am I ?
120 THE POLITICIAN. [Act 111.
Olaus. Not the queen.
King. She is My wife, Olaus.
Olaus. I must never kneel to her ; Nor the good prince, your son, the hope of war, And peace's darling, honour of our blood, And worth a better kingdom than he's born to —
Kmg. What of him?
Olaus. Must never call her mother.
King. Dare you instruct him Against his duty ? Leave us.
Olaus. You have lost
More honour in those minutes you were married, Than we have gain'd in months abroad, with all Our triumphs, purchas'd for you with our blood. Is this the payment, the reward for all Our faith? When thy young son, whose springing
valour,
And name, already makes the confines tremble, Returns like young Augustus, crown'd with vic- tories,
Must a * * * stepdame first salute him, And tread upon his laurel ?
King. Leave the court.
Olaus. May it not prove an hospital ! 'tis i' the way To change a title ; lust, and all the riots Of license reeling in it, by th' example Of one should least profane it. 1 am still Olaus, and your father's brother.
Aqu. My lord.
King. Take heed
You do not talk your head off ; we have scaffolds. — But the old man raves. — Come, my Marpisa.
Olaus. Then I will talk. Threaten my head ! Command that parasite, that dares do most In wickedness, to shew himself your servant ; Give him his engine, and his fee for hangman ; Let him take boldness but to move one hair
&.I.] THE POLITICIAN 121
That withers on my head out of his posture, He shall have more hope to o'ercome the devil In single duel, than to 'scape my fury.
Aqu. Sir —
King. Our guard !
Olaus. Look you ; I'll bring no danger to your
person,
I love you too well ; I did always use To speak, your father lik'd me ne'er the worse ; And now I am cool again — You say you are married ?
King. We are.
Olaus. Then, between you and I, — and let none
hear us, —
To make yourself, your son, and kingdom prosper, Be counselled to a divorce.
King. Not, not to save thy soul ! My son's life
added
To thine, and lives of all the army, shall Be divorced from this world first. You are my
father's
Brother ; and if you love my son, your pupil, So hopeful in your thoughts, teach him to come More humbly to us, without thought to question Our marriage, or I'll find a chastisement For his rebellious heart, we will. [Exit.
Olaus.. You must not. — I will not leave him yet.
[Exit.
Reg. This freedom may engage his life to
danger ; He is too passionate.
Aqu. He has said too much ; I'll venture speaking to him. [Exit.
Hel. He's alone ; Now to him.
Sue. Noble sir, I have a suit to you.
Reg. A courtier ask a suit of a soldier ! You'll wear no buff nor iron.
122 THE POLITICIAN. [Actlll.
Sue. I come very impudently, and, I hope to
thrive
The better for't : this gentleman, my friend, A man of quality, and in some grace with The king, hath laid a wager with me, of Two hundred crowns, I dare not pull a hair From your most reverend beard : now, if you please To give me leave, I'll win the crowns, laugh at him, And drink your health at supper.
Reg. A hair from my beard ?
Sue. But one hair, ift shall please you.
Reg. Come, take it.
Sue. I have pulPd three, noble sir.
Reg. 'Twas more
Than your commission ; there's one., [kicks Atw.]— * there's another, [Again.
And that will make you an upright courtier.
[Strikes him.
Hel. Ha! ha!
Sue. Sir, I beseech you —
Reg. Beg modestly hereafter; take within bounds; You have small beard to play upon. 'Tis fit My fist should make an answer to your wit. [Exit.
Sue. I have it to a hair. — The choleric duke
again ! I am gone. [Exit.
Re-enter OLAUS and AQUINUS.
Aqu. Sir, you have been to blame.
Olaus. How dare you talk To me, sir?
Aqu. 'Tis my duty ;" and I mutftell you, You have built too much upon him as a kinsman, And have forgot the king*
Olaus. Take that for your impudence.
[Strikes him with his cane, and exit.
Aqu. I have it, and I thank you. [Exit.
&.I.] THE POLITICIAN. 123
Re-enter King and MARPIS A, followed by SUENO.
.. They are gone, sir, but have left prints of their fury ;~ The angry duke has oroke Aquinus' head, For speaking dutifully on your behalf; T'other mute man of war struck Sueno, sir.
Sue. I hear his language humming in my head
still.
King. Aquinus ? strike so near our presence ? Sue. Nay, these soldiers will strike a man, if he
do not
Carry himself to a hair's breadth, I know that. King. They shall repent this impudence. — Look
up,
My dear Marpisa ; there's no tempest shal Approach to hurt thee. They have rais'd a storm To their own ruins.
Enter a Soldier.
Sold. Sir, if you'll bring me To the king, you shall do an office worth your
labour ; I have letters will be welcome.
Hel. You must give
Me leave, sir, to present them from the prince. — Most excellent sir, my sovereign.
Sue. Letters? If you have a chain of gold —
Hel. Go hang thyself.
[Sold, gives Helga the letters, and exit.
Sue. We will divide.
Hel. I am most fortunate to present you, sir, With letters from the prince ; and if your majesty Knew with what zeal I tender these —
[The King reads.
King. Ha!
J24 THE POLITICIAN. [Actlll.
Hel He frowns ; where's the soldade ? you'll go my half.
King. Who brought these letters? Where's the messenger?
Hel. He was here but now ; he's vanish'd.
King. Vanish thou too, and creep into the earth !
Hel. I shall, sir.
King. The impudence of children ! Read, Mar-
pisa,
More letters from the proud ambitious boy. He dares to give us precepts ; and writes here, We have too much forgot ourself, and honour, In making thee our queen ; puts on his grace A discontent, and says, the triumph he Expected, the reward of his young merit, Will be ungloried in our sudden match, And weak election.
Marp. This was my fear.
King. He threatens us, if we proceed, with his Command and power i' the army. Raise new
forces
To oppose them, and proclaim them rebels, trai- tors !
Marp. Sir, I beseech you, for the general good, Temper your rage ; these are but words of passion, The prince will soon be sorry for't ; suspect not His duty. Rather than disgrace your son, Divide me from your heart ; the people love him.
King. I'll hate him for't. — Gotharus! where's Gotharus? {Exit.
Marp. This letter tastes of his invention ; He's active ; it concerns us both. — Albina!—
Enter ALBINA.
Nay, you may forward, madam. Alb. I beseech
&.I.] THE POLITICIAN. 125
Your pardon ; I did hope to have found my lord Gotharus here.
Marp. The king ask'd for him, And is but new retir'd, who, I presume, If he had known of your approach, would not Have gone so soon.
Alb. I have no business, madam, With the king.
Marp. Come, do not disguise it thus ; I am covetous to know your suit ; But I am confident he will deny You nothing, and your husband is of my Opinion lately.
Alb. By your goodness, madam, Let me not suffer in your thoughts. I see There is some poison thrown upon my innocence ; And 'tis not well done of my lord Gotharus, To render me to your suspicion So unhappy. 'Tis too much he has withdrawn His own heart ; he will shew no seeds of charity, To make ajl others scorn me.
Marp. If he do,
You can return it ; but take heed your ways Be straight to your revenge ; let not my fame, And honour, be concern'd with the least wound.
Alb. 1 understand not what you mean.
Marp. I cannot
Be patient, to hear the king commend Your lip.
Alb. I am betray'd.
Marp. My phrase is modest. Do not you love the king ?
Alb. Yes, with the duty —
Marp. Of one thatwants no cunning to dissemble Her pride, and loose desires.
Alb. You are the queen.
Marp. What then?
Alb. I should else tell you 'tis ill done,
126 THE POLITICIAN. [Act ill.
To oppress one that groans beneath the weight Of grief already ; and I durst take boldness To say, you were unjust.
Marp. So, so !
Alb. lean
Contain no longer. Take from my sad heart What hitherto I have conceaPd ; (in that You may call me dissembler of my sorrows ;) I am weary of my life, and fear not what Your power and rage can execute. Would you Had no more guilt upon your blood, than I Have sin in my accounts that way ! my lord Gotharus would not be so unkind to me.
Marp. What's that you said so impudently, Al- bina?
Alb. What I did think should have consum'd
me here
In silence ; but your injuries are mighty ; And though I do expect to have my name In your black register design'd for death, To which my husband will, I know, consent, I cannot, thus provok'd, but speak what wounds me. Yet, here again I shut the casket up, Never to let this secret forth, to spread So wide a shame hereafter.
Marp. Thou hast waked A lioness.
Alb. Death cannot more undo me ; And since I live an exile from my husband, I will not doubt but you may soon prevail To give my weary soul a full discharge Some way or other ; and i' the minute when It takes her flight to an eternal dwelling, I will forgive you both, and pray for you : But let not your revenge be too long idle, Lest the unmeasured pile of my affections Weigh me to death before your anger vcomes, And so you lose the triumph of your envies.
Sc.I.-] THE POLITICIAN. 127
Marp. You shall not be forgotten,, fear it not; And, but that something nearer doth concern us, You should soon find a punishment. — The king !
[Exit, followed by Albina.
SCENE II.
Another Apartment in the Same. Enter King and GOTHARUS, with letters.
King. He struck Aquinus ; Helga saw him bleed.
Goth: These are strange insolencies. — One go
for Aquinus. — Did Olaus bring these letters ?
King. No, some spirit, For he soon vanished. 1 have given my son To the most violent men under the planets, These soldiers.
Goth. And they'll cling to him like ivy ; Embrace him even to death.
King. Like brise to cattle In summer, they'll not let him feed.
Goth. But make Him fling, unquiet.
King. Most repineful, spleeny.
Goth. Ready to break the twist of his allegiance.
King. Which they fret every day.
Goth. These putupon his youngblood discontents.
King. Dangerous —
Goth. Extremely dangerous.
King. Swell him up With the alluring shapes of rule and empire.
Goth. And speak his strength with a proud em- phasis,
Your's, with a faint cold-hearted voice. Were ever Such peremptory lines writ to a father !
128 THE POLITICIAN. [Act III.
King. Thy counsel, while the danger's yet aloof.
Goth. Aloof! take heed; hills in a piece of
landscape
May seem to stand a hundred leagues ; yet measure, There's but an inch in distance ! Oh, ambition Is a most cunning, infinite dissembler, But quick i' the execution.
King. Thy counsel.
Goth. He that aspires hath no religion ; He knows no kindred.
King. I ask for thy advice.
Goth. Have you not seen a great oak cleft
asunder
With a small wedge cut from the very heart Of the same tree?
King. It frights me to apply it ; Oh my misfortune ! this is torment, not A cure.
Enter AQUINUS.
Goth. Aquinus.— 'Speak him gently, sir,, And leave me to encourage him in a service Worth his attempt, and needful to your safety. — Noble Aquinus, our good king has sense Of the affront you suffered from his uncle, And, as he is inform'd, for speaking but The duty of a subject.
Aqu. This is true, sir ; I wear his bloody favour still ; I never Took any blow so long on trust.
King. I know
Thy spirit's daring, and it shall become My justice to reward thy suffering. A storm now hovers o'er my kingdom ; When the air is clear, and our sky fair again, Expect, nay, challenge, we shall recompense What thou hast suffer'd for us, with a bounty
Sc.l] THE POLITICIAN. 129
Worth all thy merits ; i' the mean time, apply Thyself to my Gothams, and be eounsell'd. {Exit. Aqu. My duty.
Goth. Thou hast no alliance to my blood ; Yet, if thou think'st I do not flatter thee, I feel a friendly touch of thy dishonour, The blow ; — 'twas not well done of duke Olaus. Aqu. You great men think you may do what
you please ;
Arid if you've a mind to pound us in a mortar, We must obey.
Goth. That law is none of nature's ; And this distinction of birth and royalty Is not so firm a proof, but there are men Have swords to pierce itthrough , and make the hearts Of those that take this privilege from their blood, Repent they were injurious.
Aqu. My sword Was quiet when he beat me.
Goth. He did not, could not beat thee. Aqu. 'Twas worse, he cudgell'd me ; I feel it yet; Nor durst 1 strike again. Goth. It could not be
A tameriess in thy spirit, but quick thought That 'twas Olaus : not that in thy heart There was no will to be reveng'd, for he Is false to nature loves his injury; But that there was no safety to return Thy anger on his person.
Aqu. You're i' the right, That frighted me.
Goth. For he is not reveng'd, That kills his enemy and destroys himself, For doing his own justice ; therefore, men That are not slaves, but free, (those we receive Born and bred gentlemen in fair employments,) That have, and dare bid high again for honour, When they are wrong'd by men 'bove them in title, VOL. v. K
130 THE POLITICIAN. [Act III.
As they are thought worthy a personal wound, In that are rais'd and levell'd with the injurer ;* And he that shall provoke me with his weapon, By making me his enemy, makes me equal, And on those terms I kill him. But there is Another caution to wise men, who ought To cast, and make themselves secure, that when They have return 'd full payment for their sufferings In fame, they may be safe without a guard.
Aqu. That, sir, is the prudence.
Goth. Yet I can direct thee To be reveng'd with safety ; unto this, What, if I add therein, thou shalt do service That will oblige the commonwealth, that groans With fear of innovation, and make The king thy friend, by one expense of courage ? And having nam'd the king thus, it must make Thy thoughts secure from future loss, and in The present act no danger.
Aqu. Sir, be clear; Make good what you have promis'd, And see if 1 be frighted ; I have help'd Many give up the ghost.
Goth. Glaus us'd
Thee basely : how much would the kingdom suffer If he were dead, and laid into his tomb, Perhaps a year sooner tban nature meant, To make his bones fit?
Aqu. I dare kill him, sir, If I we^e sure the king would pardon me ; That, in my own revenge, and any other Whom he calls enemy, without exception ; To this I am bound in conscience. Sir, there needs No conjuration for this, nor art
This long-drawn perplexed tissue of sophistry seems pur- posely calculated to bewilder the honest soldier. It may be read twice without being fully comprehended.
&.!.]• THE POLITICIAN. 131
To heighten me ; let me but hear the king Will have it, and secure me. Goth. Thou deserv'st him, And may'st a statue, for our great deliverer ; Yet, now I have thought better on't, we may Save trouble in Olaus* tragedy, And kill him through another.
Aqu. Whom?
Goth. One that
Sits heavier on the king's heart, and dwells in it ; Such a disease, as, if no resolute hand Cure him, —
Aqu. I'll be his surgeon.
Goth. When I name him, — One that has had no will to advance thee To thy deserts in wars ; for all thy former And thy late services, rewarded with A dull command of captain ! but, incens'd by Olaus now, who rules his heart, less hope To be repair'd in fortune. —
Alb. Let him be The prince —
Goth. 'Tishe!
Aqu. It honours my attempt ; And while his father holds him disobedient, I think him less than subject.
Goth. Disobedient ! Look there. [Shews a letter.
Aqu. This is the prince's hand.
Goth. But read his heart. [Aqu. reads.
Aqu. Impious ! above the reach of common faith. I am satisfied ; he must not live ; the way ? They would not trust me with his cup, to poison it. Shew me the way. — The king and queen !
Goth. Let's study.
Enter King and MARPISA.
Marp. You have a; faithful servant in Gotharu£. Kk2
132 THE POLITICIAN. [Actlll.
King. Upon his wisdom we depend. Goth. I have it ; He shall die like a soldier ; thus— [Whispers.
Marp. Their malice
Doth only aim at me ; and, if you please, To give me up a sacrifice to their fury —
King. Notforathousandsons! my life and honours Must sit with thine, Marpisa.
Aqu. Sir, 'tis done.
Goth. This act shall make thee great. — The
king and queen ! —
Look cheerful, royal sir, and think of honour To crown the merit of this captain ; let No trouble shake a thought ; he will deserve Your bosom, sir.
King. He shall possess it. How, my Gothams?
Goth. Pray leave it to me ; It is not ripe yet for your knowledge, sir.
King. We'll trust thee. — Come, Marpisa.
Goth. Dearest madam ! — Come, Aquinus.
Aqu. I attend your lordship. [Exeunt.
SCENE II.
An Apartment in the Palace : a banquet set out. Enter HARALDUS, SUENO, and HELGA.
Sue. My lord, you honour us.
Hel. If we knew how To express our duties,—
Har. No more ceremony ; Your loves engage me ; if some discontents Make me not seem unpleasant, yet, I must Confess, I was more prompted to the acceptance, In hope to cure a melancholy.
Hel. With your pardon, '
Sc.lL] THE POLITICIAN. 133
Itdoes too much usurp on your sweet nature ; But if your lordship please, there is a way To banish all those thoughts.
Har. I would call him doctor. That could assure me that.
Sue. I am of his
Opinion, sir, and know the best receipt F the world for sadness. Har. Prithee what ? Sue. Good wine. Har. I have heard them talk so. If I thought
there were That operation — HeL Try, sir.
Sue. My humble duty ! — [Drinks.
'Tis excellent wine ! Har. Helga.
HeL Your lordship's servant. Har. 'Tis pleasant. [Drinks.
Sue. It has spirit. Will you please Another trial ? that prepares more sweetness. Health to the queen ! [Drinks.
Har. I thank you. Hel. With your pardon; fill to me ; Your grace should have it last. Har. She is my mother.
Sue. She is our royal mistress ; heaven pre- serve her ! Does not your lordship feel more inclination
[Har. drinks.
To mirth ? there is no spell 'gainst sorrow, like Two or three cups of wine. Hel. Nothing, believe 't,
Will make your soul so active ; take it liberally. Har. I dare not trust my brain. Sue. You never tried. Hel. You'll never know the pleasure then of
drinking; I have drunk myself into an emperor.
134 THE POLITICIAN. [Act III.
Sue. In thy own thoughts,
Hel. Why, is't not rare, that wine, Taken to the extent, should so delightfully Possess the imagination ? I have had my queens, And concubines —
Har. Fine fancies !
Hel. The king's health !
Give me't in greater volume ; these are acorns. — Sueno, to thee ! I'm sprightly but to look on't.
[Drinks.
Sue. What pare things will the flowing virtue
raise,
If but the sight exalt you? to your grace, The king's health. [Drinks.
Har. Let it come, I'll trespass once.
HeL That smile became you, sir.
Har. This cup doth warm me ; [Drinks.
Methinks 1 could be merry.
Sue. Will your grace Have any music ?
Har. Anything.
Hel. Strike lustily. [Music within.
Har. I have begun no health yet, gentlemen.
Sue. Now you must honour us !
Har. Health to the prince !
Hel. That is your title, sir, As you are son to a queen.
Har. My father was no king. Father? I'll drown the memory of that name.
[Drink*.
Hel. The prince Turgesius' health.
Sue. He's not far off,
By the court computation. — «- Happiness now To prince Haraldus' mistress !
Hel. With devotion.
Har. Alas, I am too young to* have a mistress.
Hel. Sir, you must crown it.
Har. These are complements At court, where none must wanta drinking mistress.
Sc.ll] THE POLITICIAN.
135
Sue. Methinks loud music should attend these healths.
Har. So ! shall we dance? [Drinks.
Hel. We want ladies.
Har. I am as light ; [dances.'] — thou shall go for a lady.
Sue. Shall I ?
Is not this better than to sigh away Our spirits now ?
Har. I'm hot.
Hel. A cup of wine Is the most natural cooler.
Har. You are my Physicians, gentlemen.
[Drinks.
Sue. Make it a health [,sir,] to my lord Gotharus ; I'll pledge it as heartily as he were my father.
Har. Whose father?
[Uirotvs the wine in Sueno'sface.
Sue. Mine, I said.
Har. Cry mercy.
Sue. Nay, 'tis but so much wine lost ; fill it again.
Har. I'll drink no more.
Hel. What think you of a song ?
Sue. A catch ; to't boys !
SONG.
Har. Shall we to bed, gentlemen ? I did not sleep last night.
Hel. If your grace
Desire to sleep, there's nothing to prepare it Like t'other cup.
Har. A health to both your mistresses! [Drinks.
Sue. You do us grace.
Hel. There's hope of his conversion.
Har. I am not \vell ; what wheels are in my
brains ? Philosophy affirms the earth moves not ;
136 THE POLITICIAN. [Act III.
Tis here, metbinks, confuted. —Gen tie men, You must be fain to lead me to some couch, Where I may take a nap, and then I 1 thank you. I'll come again to-morrow.
Sue. Everyday Fora twelvemonth.
Hel. That will make you a good fellow.
[Exeunt^ leading in Haraldus.
SCENE III.
The Country.
Enter atone side, prince TURGESIUS, REGINALDUS, and Soldiers marching ; at the other, OLAUS ; they salute, and whisper.
Tur. You tell me wonders.
Olaus. 'Tis all truth ; we must Stand on our guard ; 'tis well we are provided.
Tur. Is it not some device to make us fear, That, at our entertainment, we may find Our joys more spacious?
Olaus. There is some device in't.
Tur. It is not possible a father should Be so unkind to his own blood and honour.
Olaus. My life was threatened.
Tur. Who durst threaten it?
Olaus. The king your father.
Tur. Oh, say not so, good sir.
Olaus. And, if you please him not with your be- haviour,
Your head may be soon humbled to the axe, And sent, a token of his love, to your stepdame, The queen. I trifle not.
Tur. For what sins ^
Hath angry heaven decreed lo punish Norway, And lay the scene of wrath in her own bowels ?
Se. III.] THE POLITICIAN. 137
I did suspect, when none came forth to meet Our victory, to have heard of some misfortune, Some prodigies engendering. Down with all Our pride of war ! the garlands we bring home Will but adorn us for the sacrifice ; And while our hairs are deck'd with flowers and
ribands,
We shall but march more gloriously to death. Are all good women dead within the kingdom, There could be found none worth my father's love, But one whose fame and honour are suspected?
Olaus. Would they were but suspected !
Tur. Marpisa?
Olaus. Her preferment was., no doubt, Gotharus' act; for which, 'tis whispered, She pays him fair conditions ; while they both Case up the king's eyes, or confine him to Look through such cunning optics as they please.
Tur. I'll have his heart.
Olaus. But how will you come by it? He's safe in the king's bosom, who keeps warm A serpent, till he find a time to gnaw Out his preserver.
Tur. We had died with honour By the enemy's sword ; something might have
been read
In such a fall, as might have left no shame Upon our story, since 'tis chance of war, Not want of valour, gives the victory : This shipwrecks all, and eats into the soul Of all our fame ; it withers all the deeds Is owing to our name.
Enter CORTES.
Cor. Health to the prince !
Olaus. Cortes, welcome ! what news?
Cor. These letters will inform his highness.
138 THE POLITICIAN. [ActllL
Olam. Sent from the king, Cortes? has he
thought upon't ?
Are we considerable at last ; and shall The lady gewgaw, that is perch'd upon His throne, be counselled not to take too much Upon her? Will Gotharus give us leave To be acquainted with the king again ? ha !
Cor. These letters came, sir, from Aquirius.
Olaus. How?
I hope he mentions not the broken pate I gave him, and complains on't to the prince ; I may be apt to make him an amends With such another.
Tur. Sir.
Olaus. What is the matter ?
Tur. Read ; I am planet-struck. — Cursed Go- tharus ! What would the traitor have ?
Olaus. 'Tis here, 1 take it ; he would have you
sent
Yonder, and has took order with Aquinus For your conveyance hence, at both their charges ; But now you know the plot, you will not trust Your life as he directs.
Tur. Not trust Aquinus?
Olaus. You are desperate. Hark you, I do
suspect him,
And I have cause . I broke his head at court For his impertinent counsel, when I was In passion with the king. You shall not trust him ; This may be cunning to revenge himself; I know he has a spirit. Come, you shall not Be cheated of your life, while I have one To counsel you.
Tur. Uncle, I am unmov'd. He is a soldier ; to that name and honour I'll trust a prince's life ; he dares not be A traitor.
Sc. III.] THE POLITICIAN. 189
Olaus. I have read that one prince was So credulous, and 'scaped ; but Alexander, Though he were great, was not so wise a gentle- man,
As heaven, in that occasion, might have made him. The valiant confidence in his doctor1 might- Have gnawn his bowels up, and where had been My gallant Macedonian ? Come, you shall Consider on't.
Tur. 1 am resolv'd already. March to the city ; every thought doth more Confirm me : passion will not let you see, Good uncle, with your pardon, the true worth And inside of Aquinus ; he is faithful: Should I miscarry, 'tis my single life, And 'tis obedience to give up our breath, When fathers shall conspire their children's death.
[Exeunt.
ACT IV. SCENE I.
Tlie Palace. Enter King and GOTHARUS.
Goth. You may surrender up your crown; 'twill
shew
Brave on Turgesius' temples, whose ambition Expects it.
King. Nay, Gothams —
Goth. Has my care,
* This was an Acarnanian of the name of Philip. The valiant confidence of Alexander in taking the potion from the physician with one hand, while he delivered to him the charge of being bribed to poison him with the other, is the finest trait in the character of this extraordinary man.
140 THE POLITICIAN. [ActlV.
Cast to prevent your shame, how to preserve The glories you possess, by cutting off A canker that would eat into your trunk, And hinder your fair growth, and do you make A scruple to be cured ?
King. I did but mention, And nature may excuse ; he is my son.
Goth. The more your danger; when he dares
be impious.
The forfeit of his duty, in this bold And hostile manner to affright your subjects, And threaten you with articles, is already The killing of your honour, and a treason Nature abhors, a guilt heaven trembles at ; And you are bound, in care of your own province, To shew your justice, [sir,] and not be partial To your own blood : — but let your kingdom suffer, Her heart be torn by civil wars, 'tis none Of mine ! and let him, in the blood of many Fathers, be made a king, your king, and you, That now command, be taught obedience ! Creep to your child ; exchange your palace for A prison, and be humbled till you think Death a preferment : I have but a life —
King. Which I will cherish ; be not passionate, And I consent to all thou hast [contrived :] Thou art my friend.
Goth. 1 would be, sir, your honest surgeon ; And when you have a gangrene in your limb, Not flatter you to death, but tell you plainly, If you would live, the part so poison'd must be Cut from your body.
King. And I will not shake With horror of the wound, but meet my safety, And thank my best preserver. But art sure Aquinus will be resolute ?
Goth. Suspect not ^ He is my creature.
Sc. I.] THE POLITICIAN. 141
Enter HORMENUS.
Hor. The prince your son —
King. Is a bold traitor, And they are rebels join with him ! ^ Goth. What of The prince, Hormenus ?
Hor. He is very near The city with his army.
King. Are the walls fortified ?
Hor. They are.
King. We will not trust him, nor the ruffian Olaus, that incendiary.
Goth. The queen !
Enter MARPISA.
Marp. O, sir !
King. There are more wounds in those sad ac- cents, Than their rebellion can give my kingdom.
Marp. My boy, my child, Haraldus !
King. What of him?
Marp. Is sick ; is dying, sir.
Goth. Forbid it, heavens ! He was in health —
Marp. But, if I mean to see him Alive, they say I must make haste. — The comforts of my life expire writh him. [Exit.
Goth. The devil's up in arms, and fates conspire Against us.
King. Mischiefs tumble Like waves upon us.
Hor. Sir, it will be necessary You lend your person to direct what shall Be further done i' the city. Aquinus hath Charge of the gate and walls, that offer the First view to the enemy,
142 THE POLITICIAN. [Act IV.
King. He is trusty, and A daring soldier.-What ! at stand, Gothams ?
Goth I was thinking of the queen, sir, and
raldus, And grieve for the sweet child.
King. Some fever. Would My son were in his state ! but soon we shall Conclude his destiny, if Aquinus prosper. But to the walls.
Goth. I attend. My very soul Is in a sweat. — Hormenus.
Hor. I wait on you. [Exeunt.
SCENE II.
Before the Walls of the City.
Enter TURGESIUS, OLAUS, CORTES, REGINALDUS, and Soldiers.
Tur. The gates are shut against us.
Olans. Let our engines Tear them, and batte~r down the walls.
Tur. Good uncle,
Your counsel I obey'd i' the wars abroad ; We did there fight for honour, and might use All the most horrid forms of death, to fright Our enemies, and cut our way to victory ; But give me leave to tell you, sir, at home Our conquest will be loss, and every wound We give our country is a crimson tear From our own heart. They are a viperous brood Gnaw through the bowels of their parent : I Will rather die without a monument, Than have it bear ray name, to have defaced One heap of stones.
Sc.ll.-] THE POLITICIAN.
143
Enter on the walls, GOTHARUS, HORMENUS, and AQUINUS.
Cor. Gotharus on the walls ?
Olaus. Hormenus and Aquinus ? now a speech; An 'twere at gallows, 'twould become him better.
Goth. Thus from my master, to the priqce of
Norway :
We did expect, and had prepar'd to meet Your victory with triumphs, and with garlands Due to your fate and valours entertain'd you ; Nor has your army sacrificed so many Warm drops of blood, as we have shot up prayers That you might prosper, and return the pledge Of all our hope and glory. But when pride Of your own fames, and conquest in a war, Hath poison'd the obedience of a son, And tempted you to advance your sword, new
bath'd
In enemy's blood, against your country's bosom, Thus we receive you, and declare your piety And faith lost to your country, and your father.
Tur. My lord, all this concerns not me ; we have But done our duties, and return to lay The trophies at his feet, whose justice did Make us victorious, more than our own valour : And now, without all titles but his son, I dare hell's accusation, to blast My humble thoughts.
Goth. Sir, give us leave to fear, Not your own nature, calm as the soft air, When no rude wind conspires a mutiny—
Olaus. Leave rhetoric, and to the point. Why
do not
The gates spread to receive us, and your joys Shoot up in acclamations ? I would have
144 THE POLITICIAN. [Act IV.
Thy house give good example to the city, And make us the first bonfire.
Goth. Good heaven knows How willingly I would sacrifice myself, To do a grateful service to the prince ! And I could wish, my lord, you were less pas- sionate,
And not inflame his highness' gentle spirit To these attempts.
TUT. I am ignorant, Gothams, Of what you mean. Where is the king, my father ?
Aqu. Where a sad father is, to know his son Bring arms against his life.
TUT. How now, Aquinus?
Olaus. Dare you be saucy ? O, that gentleman Is angry ! his head aches with the remembrance of My truncheon.
Aqu. It was a valiant act ! And did become the greatness of Olaus, Who, by the privilege of his birth, may do A wrong, and boast it.
Olaus. Shall these grooms affront us ?
TUT. Have you commission to be thus insolent? They do not know us ?
Goth. Yes ; and in our hearts Bleed, that our fears of your unjust demands Compel us to this separation.
TUT. Demands ! Is it injustice for a son To ask his father's blessing1? By thy duty, Gptharus, I command thee, tell my father His son desires access ; let me but speak with him.
Goth. I have not, in your absence, sir, neglected What did become my service to your highness, To take his anger off.
TUT. What riddle's this ?
Goth. But let me, with a pardon, tell your grace, The letters that you sent were not so dutiful.
Sc. II.] THE POLITICIAN. 145
You were to blame, to chide and article So with a king, and father ; yet, I said, And pawn'd my conscience, 'twas no act of your's, I mean entire ; but wrought, and form'd by some Rash spirits, to corrupt you with ambition ; Feeding your youth with thought of hasty empire, To serve their ends ; whose counsel all this while Did sour that sweetness in you we all hoped for.
Olaus. Devices ! more devices !
Tur. I am amaz'd ;
And if the king will not vouchsafe me conference, I shall accuse thy cunning to have poison'd My father's good opinion.
Enter King on the walls.
Goth. Innocence May thus be stain'd. — Pray let your justice clear
me.
King. What would our son ?
Tur. Thus pay his filial duty. [Kneel*.
King. It is but counterfeit ; if you bring no
thought
To force our blessing,
In this rude manner how dare you approach ? Dismiss your soldiers.
Olaus. Not the meanest knapsack ! That were a way to bring us to the mercy Of wolves indeed. Gotharus grinds his teeth Already at us.
King. We shall talk with you, sir, Hereafter. — I command thee, by thy duty Thou ow'sta father, and a king, dismiss Your troops.
Tur. I will.
Olaus. You shall not ; that were fine ! So we may run our heads into their noose. You give away your safety.
Tur. I will not
VOL. v. L
146 THE POLITICIAN. [ActlV.
Dispute my power ; let ray entreat prevail For their dismission.
Olaus. You may dismiss
Your head and mine, and be laugh'd at ; these men Are honest, and dare fight for us.
TUT. I know Their love, and will reward it ; dear, dear uncle !
Goth. How he prepares his tragedy ! Aquinus, Let not thy hand shake.
Aqu. I am resolute.
Goth. And I, for thy reward, [exeunt Soldiers.]
— Tis done! the soldiers Disperse already.
Olaus. If any mischief follow this, Thank your credulity.
Tur. May I now hope for Access ?
King. Descend, Gothams and Aquinus, To meet the prince ; while he contains within The piety of a son, we shall embrace him.
Tur. "When I degenerate, let me be accurs'd By heaven and you.
Olaus. Are you not pale to think on't?
Tur. It puzzles me to think my father guilty.
Olaus. I do not like things yet.
.Enter below, GOTHARUS ; as TURGESIUS goes out, a pistol is discharged within ; he falls ; then enter AQUINUS.
Tur. O, I am shot ! I am murder' d ! Olaus. Inhuman traitor ! villain !
[O/aws wounds Aquinus. Goth. So, so!
His hand has saved my execution: 'tis Not safe for me to stay ; they are both sped rarely !
[Exit.
Olaus. O, my dear cousin ! Treason ! treason ! King. Where?
&.III.] THE POLITICIAN. 147
Olaits. In thy own bosom ; thou hast kill'd thy
son. —
Convey his body ; guard it safe ; and this Perfidious trunk, III have it punished Past death, and scatter his torn flesh about The world, to affright mankind. — Thou art
[To the King. A murtherer! no blood of mine.
[Exeunt, bearing the bodies.
Re-enter GOTHARUS above.
Goth. Tisdone,
And all the guilt dies with Aquinus, falPn By Olaus' sword most happily, who but Prevented mine. This act concludes all fear.
King. He was my son; I must needs drop a tear. [Exeunt.
SCENE III.
An Apartment in the Palace.
HAR ALDUS on a couch, sick ; MARPISA, and Phy- sicians.
Marp. It is not possible ! he catch a fever By excess of wine ! he was all temperance.
1 Phys. He had a soft and tender constitution, Apt to be inflam'd ; they that are most abstemious, Feel the disorder with more violence.
Marp. Where? who assisted him in this mis- fortune? He had some company.
2 Phys. He was invited, He says, by Sueno and Helga, to a banquet, Where, in their mirth, they, careless of his health. Suffered him drink too much.
Marp. They poison'd him ! L2
148 THE POLITICIAN.
Go apprehend the murderers of my child ;
If he recover not, their death shall wait
Upon Haraldus. But, pray you, tell me, gentle-
men,
Is there no hope of life ? have you not arl Enough to cure a fever?
1 Phys. We find, madam, His disease more malignant, by some thought Or apprehensions of grief.
Marp. What grief? You are all impostors, and are ignorant But how to kill.
Har. Is not my mother come 1
Marp. Yes, my dear son, and here shall weep
myself,
Till I turn Niobe, unless thou giv'st me Some hope of thy own life.
Har. I would say something, Were you alone.
Marp. Leave us. [exeunt Physicians^ — Now,
my Haraldus, How is it with my child ?
Har. I know you love me ; Yet I must tell you truth, I cannot live ; And let this comfort you, death will not come Unwelcome to your son. I do not die Against my will ; and having my desires, You have less cause to mourn.
Marp. What is't has made The thought of life unpleasant, which does court Thy dwelling here, with all delights that nature And art can study for thee? Rich in all things Thy wish can be ambitious of; yet all These treasures nothing to thy mother's love, Which, to enjoy thee, would defer awhile Her thought of going to heaven.
Har. Oh, take heed, mother : Heaven has a spacious ear, and power to punish
&.I1I.] THE POLITICIAN. 149
Your too much love with my eternal absence. I beg your prayers and blessing.
Marp. Thou art dejected ; Have but a will, and live.
Har. 'Tis in vain, mother.
Marp. Sink with a fever into earth ? look up ; Thou shalt not die.
Har. I have a wound within You do not see, more killing than all fevers.
Marp. A wound! where? who has murder'd thee?
Har. Goth ar us —
Marp. Ha! furies persecute him!
Har. Oh, pray for him ! It is my duty, though he gave me death, — He is my father.
Marp. How? thy father !
Har. He told me so, and with that breath de-
stroy'd me ;
I felt it strike upon my spirits. Mother, Would I had ne'er been born !
Marp. Believe him not.
Har. Oh, do not add another sin to what Is done already ; death is charitable, To quit me from the scorn of all the world.
Marp. By all my hopes, Gotharus has abus'd
thee;
Thou art the lawful burden of my womb ; Thy father, Altomarus.
Har. Ha !
Marp Before whose spirit, long since taken up, To meet with saints and troops angelical, I dare again repeat, thou art his son.
Har. Ten thousand blessings now reward ray
mother !
Speak it again, and I may live ; a stream Of pious joy runs through me ; to my soul You have struck a harmony next that in heaven :
150 THE POLITICIAN. [Act IV.
Can you, without a blush, call me your child, And son of Altotnarus ? All that's holy Dwell in your blood for ever ! Speak it once, But once again.
Marp. Were it my latest breath, Thou art his, and mine.
Har. Enough; my tears do flow, To give you thanks for't. I would you could re- solve me
But one truth more : why did my lord Gotharus Call me the issue of his blood1?
Marp. Alas 1 he thinks thou art —
Har. What are those words ? I am undone again.
Marp. Ha!
Har. Tis too late To call them back — he thinks I am his son.
Marp. I have confessed too much, and tremble
with
The imagination, [aside.'] — Forgive me, child, And heaven, if there be mercy to a crime So black, as I must now, to quit thy fears, Say I have been guilty of. We have been sinful ; And I was not unwilling to oblige His active brain for thy advancement, by Abusing his belief thou wert his own ; But thou hast no such stain : thy birth is innocent, Or may I perish ever ! 'Tis a strange Confession to a child, but it may drop A balsam to thy wound. Live, my Haraldus ; If not for this, to see my penitence, And with what tears I'll wash away my sin.
Har. I am no bastard then ?
Marp. Thou art not.
Har. But
I am not found, while 'you are lost ; No time can restore you. My spirits faint.
Marp. Will nothing comfort thee ?
5c.HI.] THE POLITICIAN. 151
Har. My duty to The king.
Mar p. He's here.
Enter King.
King. How is't, Haraldus ? — Death sits in his
face. Har. Give me your blessing, and within my
heart
I'll pray you may have many. My soul flies 'Bove this vain world. — Good mother, close mine eyes. [Dies.
Marp. Never died so much sweetness in his
years.
King. Be comforted ; I have lost my son too ; The prince is slain. — How now ?
Enter Officers, with HELGA.
Marp. Justice upon the murderer of my son ! This villain Helga, and his companion Sueno, Have kilPd him. Where's the other ?
Off. Fled, madam ; ut Heh
But Helga does confess he made him drunk. Hel. But not dead drunk ; 1 do beseech you,
madam. King. Look here, what your base surfeit has
destroy'd.
Hel. 'Twas Sueno as well as I ; my lord Go- th ar us Gave us commission for what we did.
Marp. Again Gotharus ! sure he plotted this. King. Hang him up straight! Hel. 1 left no drink behind me ; If I must die, let me have equal justice, And let one of your guard drink me to death, sir: Or, if you please to let me live until
152 THE POLITICIAN. \ActlV.
Sueno is taken, we will drink, and reel Out of the world together. King. Hence, and hang him !
[Exeunt Officers with Helga.
Enter HORMENUS.
HOT. Sir, you must make provision against New danger ; discontent is broke into A wild rebellion, and many of your subjects Gather in tumults, and give out they will Revenge the prince's death.
King. This I did fear.
Where is Gothams) O, my frighted conscience Has furies in't. Where is Gothams?
HOT. Not in the court.
King. I tremble with confusions.
[Exeunt King and Hor.
Marp. I am resolv'd ; my joys are all expir'd ; Nor can ambition more concern me now. Gotharus has undone me in the death Of my loved son ; his fate is next : while I Move resolute, I'll command his destiny. [Exit.
SCENE IV.
A Room in Gotharus's House. Enter GOTHARUS.
Goth. How are we lost ! The prince Turge-
sius' death
Is of no use, since 'tis unprofitable To the great hope we stored up in Haraldus. It was a cursed plot directed me To raise bis spirit, by those giddy engines
Sc. IV.] THE POLITICIAN. 153
That have undone him : their souls reel to hell
for't !
Now will Marpisa weep herself into The obscure shades, and leave me here, to grow A statue with the wonder of our fate !
Enter ALBINA.
Alb. Sir.
Goth. Do not trouble me.
Alb. Although
I am not partner of your joys or comfort, Yet let your cruelty be so mindful of me, I may divide your sorrows.
Goth. Would thy sufferings Could ease me of the weight ! I would Empty my heart of all that's ill, to sink thee, And bury thee alive ! thy sight is hateful ; Ask me not why ; but, in obedience, Fly hence into some wilderness. — The queen
[Exit Alb. Enter MARPISA.
Goth. Great queen, did any sorrow lade my
bosom,
But what does almost melt it for Haraldus, Your presence would revive me ; but it seems Our hopes and joys in him grew up so mighty, Heaven became jealous we should undervalue The bliss of the other world, and build in him A richer paradise.
Marp. I have rnourn'd already A mother's part, and, fearing thy excess Of grief, present myself to comfort thee. Tears will not call him back ; and 'twill become us, Since we two are the world unto ourselves, (Nothing without the circle of our arms Precious and welcome,) to take heed our grief
154 THE POLITICIAN. [ActlV.
Make us notoversoon like him that's dead, And our blood useless.
Goth. Were you present, madam, When your son died ?
Mar p. I was.
Goth. And did you weep, And wish him live ? and would not heaven, at Your wish, return his wandering ghost again ? Your voice should make another out of atoms. I do adore the harmony ; and from One pleasant look [of your' s] draw in more blessings Than death knows how to kill.
Marp. He is recovered from his passion. [Aside.
Goth. What's this? ha!
Marp. Where?
Goth. Here, like a sudden winter, Struck on my heart. I am not well o' the sudden. Ha!
Marp. My lord, make use of this ; 'tis cordial.
[Gives him a box. 1 am often subject to these passions, And dare not walk without this ivory box, To prevent danger ; they are pleasant. — 'Tis a most happy opportunity. [Aside.
Goth. Let me present my thanks to ray pre- server,
Re-enter ALBINA.
And kiss your hand.
Marp. Our lips will meet more lovingly.
Alb. My heart will break.
Marp. Your lady! we are betray'd. She [saw] us kiss, and I shall hate her for't.
Goth. Does this offend your virtue ?
Alb. You are merciless ; You shall be a less tyrant, sir, to kill me.— Injurious queen !
&.IV.] THE POLITICIAN. 155
Marp. Shall I be here affronted] I shall not think Gothams worth rny love, To let her breathe forth my dishonour, which Her passion hath already dared to publish ; Nor wanted she before an impudence To throw this poison in my face.
Goth. I'll tame her. [Exit.
Alb. I will not curse you, madam ; but you are The cruel 1'st of all woman kind. I am Prepared to meet your tyrannies.
Re-enter at one door, GOTHARUS, with a pistol; at the other, a Servant.
Serv. My lord,
We are undone ! the common people are In arms, and violently assault our house, Threatening your lordship with a thousand deaths For the good prince, whose murther they exclaim Contrived by you. —
Goth. The fiends of hell will shew More mercy to me. Where shall I hide me ?
Marp. Alas! They'll kill me too. [Exit.
Serv. There is no staying ; they have broke the
wall
Of the first court. Down at some window, sir. [Goth, drops the pistol, which Albina takes up.
Goth. Help me! O, help me ! I am lost. [Exit ivilh Serv.
[Within.] Down with the doors! This way, this way !
Enter Rebels.
Alb. [presents the pistol.'] — He that first moves
this way comes on his death ; I can dispatch but one, and take your choice.
156 THE POLITICIAN. [Act IV.
1 Reb. Alas, good madam, we do not come to
trouble you ; You have sorrow enough ; we would talk with my
lord, Your pagan husband.
2 Reb. Ay, ay, where is he ?
3 Reb. That traitor!
4 Reb. Murderer of our prince ! Alb. You are not well informed ;
Aquinus kilFd the prince.
2 Reb. But by my lord's direction. We know his heart, and [we] do mean to eat it ; Therefore let him appear. — Knock down the lady, You with the long-bill.
Alb. How dare you run the hazard of your lives And fortunes, thus'like outlaws, without authority, To break into our houses? When you have done What fury leads you to, you will buy too dear Repentance at the gallows.
2 Reb. Hang the gallows ! Give us my lord, your husband.
Re-enter Servant.
Serv. He's escap'd, madam ; Now they may search.
Enter more Rebels.
Alb. But where 's the queen? she must not be betray'd.
5 Reb. This way, this way ! He got out of a
window, And leap'd a wall. Follow, follow !
[Exeunt Rebels.
[Within.'] Follow, follow, follow ! Alb. O, my poor Gotharus !
Sc.lV.] THE POLITICIAN. 157
Re-enter MARPISA.
Alb. Madam, you are secure ; though you pur- sued My death, I wish you safety.
Marp. I have been Too cruel ; but ray fate compell'd me to't. [Exit.
Alb. I am become the extremest of all miseries. Oh, my unhappy lord! [Exit.
SCENE V.
A Street. Enter SUENO, disguised.
Sue. Helga is hanged ; what will become of me * I think I were best turn rebel. There's no hope To walk without a guard, and that I shall not Want to the gallows : heathen halberdiers Are used to have a care, and do rejoice To see men have good ends.
Re-enler GOTHARUS.
Goth. I am pursued !
Sue. My lord Gotharus ! worse and worse! oh for A mist before his eyes !
Ooth. You shall not betray me, sir.
[Draws a poniard.
Sue. Hold, my lord! I am your servant, honest Sueno.
Goth. Sueno !
Off with that case, it may secure me ; quickly, Or—
158 THE POLITICIAN. [Ad IV.
Sue. Oh, my lord, you shall command my skin. Alas, poor gentleman ! I'm glad I have it, To do your lordship service. Goth. Nay, your heard too ? Sue. Yes, yes, any thing. Alas, my good lord ! how comes this ?
Goth. Leave your untimely prating ; help !
[They exchange dresses. You'll not betray me ?
Sue. I will first be hang'd.
[Within.'] Follow ! follow !
Goth. Hell stop their throats! So, so! Now
thy reward.
Sue. It was my duty ; troth, sir, I'll have nothing. Goth. Yes, take that, and that, for killing of Haraldus. [Stabs him.
Now I am sure you will not prate. Sue. O, murder! [Within.] Follow! follow! Goth. I cannot 'scape. Oh. help, invention ! [He smears himself with Sueno's blood, and falls down as dead.
Enter Rebels.
1 Reb. This way, they say, he went. What's
he?
2 Reb. One of our company, I think.
3 Reb Who kill'd him 1
4 Reb. 1 know not.
2 Reb. Let's away ; if we can find That traitor, he shall pay for all.
4 Reb. Oh, that I had him here, I'd teach him —
2 Reb. This way ! this way ! Sue. Oh!
3 Reb. Stay ; there's one groans. Sue. Oh! '
&.V.] THE POLITICIAN. 159
2 Reb. Nay, 'twas hereabouts ; another dead *?
4 Reb. He has good clothes. Gotharus ! the very cur.
3 Reb. It is Gotharus ! I have seen the dog. 2 Reb. Tie he! 'tis he!
Sue. Oh ! [Goth, rises, and steals off.
2 Reb. Now 'tis not he;— ifthou canst speak,
my friend —
Sue. Gotharus murdered me, and shifted clothes; He cannot be far off ; oh !
1 Reb. That's he that lies dead yonder. O,that he were alive again,
That we might kill him one after another !
3 Reb. He's gone !
2 Reb. The devil he is ! Follow ! follow !
3 Reb. This way ! he cannot 'scape us. Farewell, friend, I'll do thee a courtesy. — Follow! follow! [Exeunt Rebels.
SCENE VI.
An Apartment in Olaus' House, with a coffin in it. Enter Onus, TURGESIUS, AQUINUS, and CORTES.
Olaus. So, so ! in this disguise you may to the
army,
Who, though they seem to scatter, are to meet By my directions. — Honest Aquinus, you Wait on the prince. — But, sir — [Whispers Tur.
Cor. Were you not wounded ?
Aqu. I
Prepared a privy coat, for that I knew Gotharus would have been too busy with My flesh else ; but he thinks I am slain by the duke, And hugs his fortune in' t.
160
THE POLITICIAN. [A* IV.
Tur. You'll follow ?
OJaws. And bring you news ; perhaps the rabble
are
In hot pursuit after the POLITICIAN ; He cannot 'scape them ; they will tear him like So many hungry mastiffs.
Tur. I could wish They had him. [Exeunt Tur. and Aqu.
Olaus. Lose no time.— Cortes, stay you with me ; Not that I think my house will want your guard.
Cor. Command me, sir.
Olaus. Was ever such a practice by a father, To take away his son's life ?
Cor. I would hope
He may not be so guilty ; yet I know not How his false terrors, multiplied by the art Of this Gothams, may prevail upon him, And win consent.
Olaus. Aquinus has been faithful, And deceived all their treasons ; but the prince Is still thought dead ; this empty coffin shall Confirm the people in his funeral. To keep their thoughts revengeful, till we are Possess'd of him that plotted all.
[Within.] Follow! follow!—
Cor. The cry draws this way ; they are excel- lent blood-hounds.
Enter GOTHARUS.
Goth. As you are men, defend me from the rage Of the devouring multitude. I have Deserv'd your anger, and a death, but let not My limbs inhumanly be torn by them. O, save me !
[Within.] Follow! follow!
Olaus. Blest occasion !
Goth. I am forced to take your house, and now implore
&.V.] THE POLITICIAN.
Your mercy but to rescue rae from them, And be your own revenger ; yet my life Is worth your preservation for a time : Do it, and I'll reward you with a story You'll not repent to know.
Olaus. You cannot be
Safe here, — their rage is high, and every door Must be left open to their violence — Unless you will obscure you in this coffin, Prepared for the sweet prince that's murdered, And but expects his body, which is now Embalming.
Goth. That! O, you are charitable !
[FFittm.] Follow! foil—
Goth. Their noise is thunder to my soul.
[//<? lays himself in the coffin. So, so !
Enter Rebels.
Olaus. How now, gentlemen ! What means this tumult? Do you know that I Possess this dwelling?
Reb. Yes, my lord ;
But we were told my lord Gotharus enter'd, And we beseech you give him to our justice. He is the common enemy, and we know lie kilTd the prince.
Olaus. You may search, if you please, He can presume of small protection here. But I much thank you for your loyalties, And service to the prince, whose bloodless ruins Are there, and do but wait when it will please His father to reverse a cruel sentence, That keeps him from a burial with his ancestors : We are forbid to do him rights of funeral.
1 Reb. How ! not bury him?
2 Reb. Forbid to bury our good prince ! We'll
bury him,
And see what priest dare not assist us. VOL. v. M
162 THE POLITICIAN. [ActlV.
3 Reb. Not bury him ! We'll do% and carry his
body
In triumph through the city, and see him laid F the great tombs.
1 Reb. Not bury our prince ! that were A jest indeed !
Cor. It is their love, and duty.
2 Reb. We'll pull the church down but we 11
have our will.
3 Reb. Dear prince ! How sweet he smells ! 1 Reb. Come, countrymen,
March ! and see who dares take his body from us. Cor. You cannot help. Olaus. They'll bury him alive. Cor. He's in a fright. Olaus. So may all traitors thrive !
[Exeunt Rebels with the coffin, followed by Cor. and Olaus.
ACT V. SCENE I.
An Apartment in the Palace. Enter King and MARPISA.
King. Oh, I am lost ! and, my soul bleeds to
think, By my own dotage upon thee.
Marp. I was curs'd
When I first saw thee, poor, wind-shaken king ! I have lost my son.
King. Thy honour, impious woman, Of more price than a son, or thy own life. I had a son too, whom my rashness sent
&."!.] THE POLITICIAN. 163
To another world, my poor Turgesius.
What sorcery of thy tongue and eyes betray' d me)
Marp. I would I had been a basilisk, to have shot A death to thy dissembling heart, when I Gave myself up thy queen ! I was secure, Till thou, with the temptation of greatness,, And flattery, didst poison my sweet peace ; And shall thy base fears leave me now a prey To rebels ?
King. I had been happy to have left Thee sooner. But begone ! get to some wilderness Peopled with serpents, and engender with Some dragon like thyself.
Marp. Ha! ha!
King. Dost laugh, thou prodigy, thou shame of woman !
Marp. Yes, and despise thee, dotard. Vex till
thy soul
Break from thy rotten flesh ; I will be merry At thy last groan.
King. O, my poor boy ! my son ! His wound is printed here. — That false Gotharus, Your wanton goat, I fear, practis'd with thee His death.
Marp. 'Twas thy own act, and timorous heart,
in hope
To be secure. I glory in the mention, Thou murderer of thy son !
Enter HORMENUS.
Hor. Oh, sir, if ever, stand upon your guard ; The army, which you thought scattered and broke, Is grown into a great and threat'ning body, Led by the duke Olaus, your lov'd uncle, Is marching hither ; all your subjects fly to him.
[Exit.
Marp. Ha! ha!
164 THE POLITICIAN. [.Act V.
King. Curse on thy spleen ! is this a time for
laughter,
When horror should afflict thy guilty soul 1 Hence, mischief!
Marp. Not to obey thee, shadow of a king, Am I content to leave thee ; and, but I would not Prevent thy greater sorrow and vexation, Now I would kill thee, coward.
King. Treason ! treason !
Marp. Ay, ay ; who comes to your rescue ?
King. Are all fled ?
Marp. Slaves do it naturally.
King. Canst thou hope to 'scape?
Marp. I am mistress of my fate, and do not fear Their inundation, their army coming ; It does prepare my triumph ; they shall give Me liberty, and punish thee to live.
King. Undone, forsaken, miserable king !
[Exeunt severally.
SCENE IL
Before the Palace.
Enter TURGESIUS, OLAUS, CORTES, AQUINUS, and Soldiers.
Tur. Worthy Aquinus, I must honour thee ; Thou hast preserv'd us all ; thy service will Deserve a greater monument than thanks.
Aqu. Thank the duke, for breaking o' my pate.
Olaus. I knew 'twas well bestow'd ; but we
have now Proof of thy honest heart.
Aqu. But what, with your highness' favour, do
you mean To do with your father ?
Sc.ll.-] THE POLITICIAN. 165
Tur. Pay my duty to him ; He may be sensible of his cruelty, And not repent to see me live.
Olaus. But, with your favour, something else
must be
Consider'd; there's a thing he calls his queen, A limb of Lucifer ; she must be roasted For the army's satisfaction.
Aqu. They will ne'er
Digest her. The king's hounds may be kept hungry Enough, perhaps, and make a feast upon her.
Tur. I wonder how the rabble will bestow The coffin ?
Olaus. Why, they'll bury him alive, I hope.
Tur. Did they suppose my body there?
Olaus. I'm sorry he will fare so much the better. 1 would the queen were there, to comfort him, Oh, they would smell, and sweat together rarely !
Aqu. He dare as soon be damn'd as make a
noise, Or stir, or cough.
Olaus. If he should sneeze.
Cor. 'Tis his best course to go into the ground With silence. [Trumpet sounded within.
Tur. March on. — Stay ; what trumpet's that?
Enter Rebels, marching, with a trumpet before the
coffin.
Olaus. They are no enemies ; I know the coffin.
Aqu. What rusty regiment have we here ?
Olaus. They are
Going to bury him ; he's not yet discover'd. Oh, do not hinder them, 'tis a work of charity. Yet, now I do consider better on't, You may do well to shew yourself; that may Be a means to waken the good gentleman,
166 THE POLITICIAN. [ActV.
And make some sport, before the rascal smell ; And yet he's in my nostril ; he has perfum'd His box already. " [Tur. discovers himself.
Omnes Reb. 'Tis he ! 'tis he ! the prince alive !
hey 'I
{They throw down the coffin, and run to
kneel, and embrace Turgesius. Aqu. What would he give but for a knife to cut His own throat now ?
Omnes Reb. Our noble prince alive ! Tur. That owes himself to all your loves. Aqu. What? what trinkets have you there? Reb. The duke
Olaus told us 'twas the prince's body, Which we resolv'd to bury with magnificence. Aqu. So it appears* Olaus. 'Tis better as it is. 2 Reb. There's something in't, my shoulder is
still sensible ; Let's search. — Stand off —
Olaus. Now do you scent him, gentlemen ? he'd
forgive
The hangman, to dispatch him out of the way. Now will these mastiffs use him like a cat — Most dreadful rogues at an execution. Now ! now ! [.They open the coffin.
1 Reb. 'Tis a man :
Ha! Gothams ! the thing we whet our teeth for ! Omnes Reb. Out with the traitor, [out] with the
murderer ! Hey ! drag him. Olaus. 1 told you.
1 Reb. Hold ! know your duty, fellow- rene- gades.—
We do beseech thee, high and mighty prince, Let us dispose of what we brought, this traitor ; He was given us by the duke ; and fortune has Thrown him into our teeth.
&.1L] THE POLITICIAN. 167
Olaus. And they'll devour him.
Omnes Reb. We beseech your highness.
Olaus. I do acknowledge it. — Good sir, grant
their boon, And try the cannibals.
2 Reb. I'll have an arm.
3 Reb. I'll have a leg ; I am a shoemaker, His shin-bone may be useful.
4 Reb. I want a sign ; give me his head.
Tur. Stay, let's first see him ; is he not stifled ? 3 Reb. I had rather my wife were speechless. Olaus. The coffin, sir, was never close. Tur. He does not stir.
1 Reb. We'll make him stir. Hang him ! he's
but asleep.
2 Reb. He's dead ; hum ! Olaus. Dead!
Then the devil's not so wise as I took him.
Tur. He's dead, and has prevented all their fury.
Aqu. He was not smother'd, The coffin had air enough.
Olaus. He might have lived, To give these gentlemen some content.
1 Reb. Oh, let us tear his limbs.
Tur. Let none use any violence to his body : I fear he has met reward above your punishment.
2 Reb. Let me have but his clothes.
3 Reb. He is a tailor.
2 Reb. Only to cut out a suit for a traitor by
them, Or any man my conscience would wish hang'd.
4 Reb. Let me have a button for a relic — Tur. No more.
Olaus. There is some mystery in his death. —
JSwferKing.
The king ! — Obscure a little, nephew.
[Tur. retires.
168 THE POLITICIAN. [ActV.
King. To whom now must I kneel ? Where is
the king ?
For I am nothing, and deserve to be so. — Unto you, uncle, must I bow, and give My crown ? Pray take it ; with it give me leave To tell you what it brings the hapless wearer, Beside the outside glory ; for I am Read in the miserable fate of kings. You think it glorious to command, but are More subject than the poorest pays you duty; And must obey your fears, your want of sleep, Rebellion from your vassals, wounds even from Their very tongues, whose quietness you sweat for, For whose dear health you waste, and fright your
strength
To paleness, and your blood into a frost. You are not certain of a friend or servant, To build your faith upon ; your life is but Your subjects' murmur, and your death their sacri- fice :
When looking past yourself, to make them blest In your succession, which a wife must bring you, You may give up your liberty for a smile, As I have done, and in your bosom cherish More danger than a war or famine brings ; Or, if you have a son — my spirits fail me At naming of a son —
Tur. [coming for ward."] — Oh, my dear father ! King. Ha ! do not fright me in my tears, which
should
Be rather blood, for yielding to thy death. I have let fall rny penitence, though I was Counsell'd by him, whose truth 1 now suspect, In the amaze and puzzle of my state —
Tur. Dear sir, let not one thoughtafflict you more; I am preserv'd to be your humble son still. Although Gotharus had contriv'd my ruin, Twas counterplotted by this honest captain.
Ste.II.] THE POLITICIAN. 169
King. I know not what to credit ; art Turge- sius?
Titr. And do account your blessing and forgive- ness,
(If I have err'd,) above the whole world's empire. The army,' sir, is your's.
Olaus. Upon conditions —
TUT. Good sir — and all safety meant your person.
Olaus. Right ; But, for your gipsy queen, that cockatrice —
King. She's lost.
Olaus. The devil find her.
King. She is false.
Olaus. That gentleman, Jack in the box, if he could speak, Would clear that point.
King. Forgive me, gentle boy.
TUT. Dear sir, no more.
Aqu. Best dismiss these gentlemen.
Olaus. The prince's bounty, [gives them money.'}
— Now you may go home ; And, do you hear? be drunk to night, the cause Requires it.
1 Reb. We will shew ourselves good subjects.
Omnes Reb. Heaven bless the king and prince, and the good duke ! [Exeunt.
King. My comforts are too mighty ; let me pour More blessings on my boy.
Tur. Sir, 1 am blest, If 1 stand fair in your opinion.
King. And welcome, good Olaus.
Olaus. You are deceiv'd ; I am a ruffian , and my head must off, To please the monkey madam that bewitch'd you, For being too honest to you.
King. We are friends.
Olaus. Upon condition that you will —
King. What?
170 THE POLITICIAN. [ Act V.
Olaus. Now have I forgot what I would have.-— Oh !•— that ray lady Circe, that transform'd you, May be sent— whither1?— I have forgot again,— To the devil ; any whither, far enough : A curse upon her ! she troubles me both when f think on her, and when I [do] forget her.
Enter ALBINA.
King. Gothams' wife, the sorrowful Albina.
Alb. If pity dwell within your royal bosom, Let me be heard : I come to find a husband. I'll not believe what the hard-hearted rebels Told me, that he is dead, (they lov'd him not, And wish it so,) for you would not permit His murder here. — You gave me, sir, to him In holy marriage ; I'll not say what sorrow My poor heart since hath been acquainted with ; But give him now to me, and I'll account No blessing like that bounty. Where, oh, where Is my poor lord ? — None tell me ? Are you all Silent, or deaf as rocks? Yet they sometimes Do with their hollow murmurs answer men. This does increase my fears. None speak to me ? — I ask my lord from you, sir ; you once lov'd him ; He had your bosom ; who hath torn him thence? Why do you shake your head and turn away 1 — Can you resolve me, sir? — The prince alive ! Whose death they would revenge upon Gotharus ? O let me kiss your hand ; a joy to see You safe doth interrupt my grief. I may Hope, now, my lord is safe too. I like not That melancholy gesture. Why do you make So dark jour face, and hide your eyes, as they Would shew an interest in sorrow with me ? Where is my lord ? Can you, or any, tell me Where I may find the comfort of mine eyes, My husband ? or, but tell me that he lives,
Sc.ll] THE POLITICIAN. 171
And I will pray for you. — Then he is dead Indeed, I fear.
Tur. Poor lady.
Aqu. Madara, be comforted.
Alb. Why, that's well said. I thank you, gentle
sir;
You bid me be comforted ; blessing on you ! Shew me now reason for it ; tell me something 1 may believe.
Aqu. Madam, your husband's dead.
Alb. And did you bid me, sir, be comforted, For that? Oh, you were cruel. Dead ! who mur-
der'd him ?
For though he lov'd not me in life, I must Revenge his death.
Tur. Alas, you cannot.
Alb. No?
Will not heaven hear me, think you? for 111 pray That horror may pursue the guilty head Of his black murderer : you do not know How fierce and fatal is a widow's curse. Who kilKd him ? say.
Aqu. We know not.
Alb. You're unjust.
Tur. Pursue not sorrow with such inquisition, Lady.
Alb. Not I? who hath more interest?
King. The knowledge of what circumstance
depriv'd him
Of life, will not avail to his return ; Or, if it would, none here know more, than that He was brought hither dead in that inclosure.
Alb. Where?
Aqu. In that coffin, lady.
Alb. Was it charity
Made this provision for him? — Oh, my lord, Now may I kiss thy wither'd lip, discharge Upon thy bosom a poor widow's tears ;
172 THE POLITICIAN. [ActV.
There's something tempts my heart to shew more
duty,
And wait on thee to death, in whose pale dress Thou dost invite me to be reconciled.
King. Remove that coffin.
Alb. You are uncharitable. Is't not enough that he is robb'd of life Among you, but you'll rob me of his body? — Poor remnant of my lord! I have not had Indeed so many kisses a great while ; Pray do not envy me, for sure I shall not Die of this surfeit. He thought not I was So near to attend him in his last and long Progress, that built this funeral tenement Without a room for me. The sad Albina Must sleep by her dead lord. I feel death coming ; And, as it did suspect 1 durst not look On his grim visage, he has drawn a curtain Of mist before my eyes. [Swoons.
King. Look to the lady.
Tur. Look to Albina. Our physicians !
Enter Physicians.
There is not so much virtue more i' the kingdom. If she survive this passion, she is worth A prince, and 1 will court her as my blessing.— Say, is there hope?
Phys. There is.
Tur. Above your lives Preserve her.
Phys. With our best art and care.
[Exeunt with Albina.
Olaus. She has almost made rae woman too.
But come ; To other business.
5c.II.] THE POLITICIAN. 173
Enter MARPISA.
Aqu. Is not this the queen ?
Olaus. The queen of hell ! Give her no hear- ing; but
Shoot, shoot her presently, without more repent- ance.
There is a lecherous devil in her eye ; Give him more fire, his hell's not hot enough. Now shoot.
Tur. Be temperate, good sir.
Mar p. Nay, let His choleric highness be obey'd.
Aqu. She is Shot-free.
Marp. The prince alive! where is Gotharus?
Olaus. Your friend that was.
Marp, It is confess'd.
Olaus. Your stallion.
Marp. He has more titles, sure.
Olaus. Let but some strangle her in her own hair.
Marp. The office will become a noble hangman.
Olaus. Whore ! —
Marp. I'll not spend my breath upon thee ; I have more use on't. — Does Gotharus live ?
Aqu. You may conjecture, madam, if you turn Your eyes upon that object.
Marp. It has wrought then.
King. What has wrought?
Marp. His physic, sir, for the state megrim. A wholesome poison, which, in his poor fears, And fainting, when the rebels first pursu'd him, It was my happiness to minister, In my poor boy's revenge, kill'd by his practice,
Tur. Poison'd!
Olaus, She is turn'd doctor.
174 THE POLITICIAN. [ActV.
Marp. He becomes Death's pale complexion, and now I'm prepared.
TUT. For what?
Marp. To die.
Olaus. Prepared to be damn'dj a seven years
killing Will be too little.
Marp. I pity your poor rage : 1 shall not stay so long ; nor shall you have The honour, sir, to kill me.
Olaus. No ! let me try.
Marp* Ha! ha!
Olaus Dost thou laugh, hell-cat?
Marp. Yes, and scorn all your furies. I was not So improvident, to give Gotharus all My cordial ; you may trust the operation ; Here's some to spare, if any have a mind To taste, and be assur'd. Will you, my lord? 'Twill purge your choler rarely.
Olaus. I'll not be Your patient, I thank you.
Marp. This box was ever my companion, Since 1 grew wicked with that Politician, To prevent shameful death ; nor am I coy To pleasure a friend in it.
Olaus. Devil's charity !
Marp. It works with method, and doth kill dis- creetly,
Without a noise. Your mercury is a rude And troublesome destroyer to this medicine ; I feel it gently seize upon my vitals ; 'Tis now the time to steal into my heart.
King. Hast thou no thought of heaven ?
Marp. Yes, I do think
Sometimes, but have not heart enough to pray ; Some vapour now rises 'twixt me and heaven, I cannot see it : lust and ambition ruin'd me. If greatness were a privilege i' the other world,
Sc. II.] THE POLITICIAN. 175
It were a happiness to die a queen.
I find my conscience too late ; 'tis bloody,
And full of stains. Ob, I have been so wicked,
'Twere almost impudence to ask a pardon ;
Yet, for your own sakes, pity me. Survive
All happy ; and, if you can, forgive, forgive. [Dies.
King. Those accents yet may be repentance.
Tur. She's dead.
King. Some take their bodies hence.
Tur. Let them have burial.
[Exe. Soldiers, with the bodies of Goth . and Marp.
King. 'Tis in thee, Turgesius, To dispose all, to whom I give my crown. — Salute him king, by my example.
Tur. Stay;
Upon your duty stay ! Will you be traitors, Consent your lawful king should be depos'd ? — Sir, do not wound your son, and lay so great A stain upon his hopeful, his green honour. I now enjoy good men's opinions ; This change will make them think I did conspire, And force your resignation : wear it still ; By justice and yourself, it shall not touch My brow, till death translate you to a kingdom More glorious,, and you leave me to succeed, Better'd by your example, in the practice Of a king's power and duty.
King. This obedience Will, with excess of comfort, kill thy father, And hasten that command thou would'st decline.
Tur. Receive this captain, and reward his faith To you, and me. [Presents Aqu.
King. Be captain of our guard. — And, my good uncle, to your care I leave The soldiers ; let the largess speak our bounty, And your love.
Olaus. Ay, this sounds well ; fellow soldiers, Trust me, beside your pay, for the king's bounty.
176
THE POLITICIAN. \_Act\.
heaven
Sold. Heaven preserve The king and prince !
Olaus. Not a short prayer for me? Omnes Sold. Heaven bless the duke !
bless the duke !
Olaus. Why so ! money will do much. King. A bright day shines upon us.- Come,
my son ;
Too long a stranger to the court, it now Shall bid thee welcome. I do feel my years Slide off, and joy drown sorrow in my tears.
[Exeunt.
THE
IMPOSTURE.
VOL. v. N
THE IMPOSTURE.] This Drama was licensed by the Master of the Revels in November 1640, and appears by the Prologue to have been the first of Shirley's productions after his return from Ireland. It was not printed till 1652, when the poet published it, with five other of his pieces, in an octavo volume. The title of the old copy is : '* The Imposture a Tragi-Comedie, As it was Acted at the private House in Black Fryers. Written by James Shirley.'0
TO
SIR ROBERT BOLLES, BART.
SIR,
hath been a complement with some, when they have treated friends, to prof ess a barrenness in that which they had prepared, not without studied charge and curiosity. As 1 was never so insolent to magnify my own, being best ae- quainted with my weak abilities, so I should deserve a just affront to myself, and undervalue your person, to present you ivith any thing were first cheap in my own opinion. Sir, this poem I may with modesty affirm had a fair recep- tion, when it was personated on the stage, and may march in the first rank of my own compositions ; which directed now by my humble devotion, comes from the press to kiss your hand, and bear your noble name in the dedication. I cannot have so much prejudice upon your nature, to think you will decline it ; and should I abate those other charac- ters of honour that shine upon you, your indulgence to music, and singular love to the worthy professors, emi- nently shew the harmony of your soul ; and while poetry is received a musical part of human knowledge, I cannot despair of your candid entertainment. Sir, I beseech you take it, as an earnest of my thoughts to serve you; lam assured it brings with it, beside the acknowledgment of your late obligation upon me, ambitious desires to preserve my interest in your favour, while I subscribe myself 9
Sir, the humblest of your honourers,
JAMES SHIRLEY.
PROLOGUE.
Our poet, not full confident, he says,
Wtten theatres' free vote had crown d his plays,
Came never tvith more trembling to the stage ;
Since that poetic schism possessed the age —
" A prologue must have more wit than the play" —
He knows not what to write ; fears what to say.
He has been stranger long to the English scene,
Knows not the mode, nor hoiv, with artful pen,
To charm your airy souls ; beside, he sees
The Muses have forsook their groves ; the trees
That f ear' d no thunder, and were safely icorn
By Phoebus' own priests, are now rudely torn
By every scurrile wit, that can but say,
He made a prologue to a new — no play.
But let them pass. — You, gentlemen, that sit
Our judges, great commissioners of wit,
Be pleas' d I may one humble motion make :
'Tis that you would resolve, for the author's sake,
I* the progress of his play, not to be such
Who'll understand too little , or too much ;
But choose your way to judge. — To the ladies, one
Addressfromthe author, and the Prologue's done: —
In all his poems you have been his care,
Nor shall you need to wrinkle now that fair
Smooth alabaster of your brow ; no fright
Shall strike chaste ears, or dye the harmless white
Of any cheek with blushes : by this pen,
No innocence shall bleed in any scene.
If then, your thoughts secur'd, you smile, the wise
Will learn to like by looking on your eyes.
DRAMATIS PERSONS.
Duke of Mantua.
Honorio, his son.
Flaviano, the dukes creature.
Leonato, the duke o/Terrara's son.
Petronio, a nobleman of Ferrara.
Bertoldi, an insolent coward, son to Florelia.
Claudio, a creature of Flaviano.
Volterino,
Hortensio,
Antonio, a gentleman.
Friar.
Pandolfo, a servant of the tavern.
Soldiers.
Servants.
Fioretta. daughter to the duke of Mantua.
Donabella, sister to Leonato.
Juliana, a mistress o/'Flaviano.
Florelia, a noble lady, mother to Bertoldi.
Abbess.
Nuns.
Ladies.
SCENE, the two first Acts in Mantua, the rest in Ferrara.
THE
IMPOSTURE
ACT I. SCENE I. Mantua. — An Apartment in the Palace.
Enter Duke, HONORIO, and FLAVIANO, at opposite
doors.
Duke. No army yet discovered ?
Flav. None.
Duke. We are lost.
Hon. Despair not, sir.
Duke. Away ! thy confidence Is folly : is not danger round about us ? From every part destruction staring us P the face1? this city like a fatal centre^ Wherein the bloody lines of war and famine Prepare to meet ?
Flav. And every minute we expect a battery.
Hon. The walls are not so easily made dust, As the besiegers would persuade our faith ; Disarm not your own hearts : my confidence Tells me we shall not suffer ; the duke of Ferrara may send yet to raise the siege.
Duke. Fond boy ! it was thy counsel to depend Upon his aids, and promise Fioretta/
The unskilful manner in which our old dramatists enounced Italian has already been more than once noticed. Fioretta is here a quadrisyllable.
184 THE IMPOSTURE. [Act I.
Thy sister, with so great a dowry, to
The duke's vain-glorious son. Fame has belied
His valour, and we now are cheated of
Our lives and dukedom.
Hon. Sir, with my duty safe, let me entreat you Not stain the character of a prince so much ; The interest we have in that great title, Should make us wise in our belief; for when Princes break faith, religion must dissolve, And nature groan with burthen of the living. Beside, his son, Leonato, how[so]ever Traduced or sullied by some traitor's envy, Deserves a noble fame, and loves the hope Of our alliance. I ne'er saw his person, But, 'twere a sin honour could not forgive, In us, to question him.
Duke. We fool ourselves ; Let's think of timely articles, and yield.
Flav. Whilst there is hope of mercy.
Hon. Oh ! this want
Of man will make all our well meaning stars Forfeit their kind aspects, and turn their influence To death. [Aside.
Flav. My lord, I cannot be concern'd in name And honour, with your persons, whose least l)lood Is worth ten thousand arteries of mine ; Therefore, while such necessities invade us, I cannot but prefer your lives, and, in My duty, counsel you would think of what Is offer'd here, rather than hazard all By a vain expectation of an army From Leonato; who, with all his forces, Is not yet sure to prosper in our cause.
Duke. Consider that, Honorio.
Flav. Nay, should heaven So smile upon us, that his sword o'ercome, This to weak apprehension may promise Our glory ; but examine well the close ;
Sc. I.] THE IMPOSTURE. 185
There may be greater danger in his victory, Than all our want of him can threaten.
Hon. You Perplex my understanding.
Flav. He expects Your sister, the reward of his great service.
Hon. Is it not justice ?
Flai). Yes, forbid it, goodness, He should not thrive in his fair hope, and promises ! But if her highness find not in her heart Consent, to meet the prince with love and marriage, Who shall defend us from his power? that must Keep us in awe, and this earth, panting yet With frights and sufferings of the war.
Hon. It is
My wonder, lord Flaviano, your wisdom Should jveave thesejvild impossibilities. My sister not consent ? nature, her birth, Obedience, honour, common gratitude, Beside ambition of what can be hoped for, To make her happy, will give wings to her Desires.
Duke. I cannot tell.
Hun. I cannot think
Your reason, sir, can be so much corrupted, To look upon my sister with that fear She should not fly to meet our great preserver. Do you believe, she, now 'mong holy virgins, Led thither by her own devotion, During this war to pray and weep for us, (Tears, whose clear innocencemighttempt an angel To gather up the drops, and string for saints A crystal rosary,) can wish us safe By his victorious arm, without a will To be herself his own reward ? Her virtue Must needs instruct her that, and we apply No motive to her heart — [A shout within.
Duke. What news'?
186 THE IMPOSTURE. [Act I
Enter CL AUDIO.
Clau. From the watch-tower we descry an army Marching this way. The sun, which hath thus long Muffled his face in clouds, as it delighted In their approach, doth gild their way, and shine Upon their burgonets, to dazzle the Faint eyes of our besiegers.
Hon. 'Tis Leonato !
Clan. Our enemies, whose troops circle the
town,
Are making haste to meet them ; and the foot, Quitting tHeir trenches, now are gathering Into a body, as it seems, resolv'd To give them battle.
Duke. We have life again. — Honorio, collect what strength we have, And make a sally at your best advantage : 'Tis good to engage them both ways.
Hon. How my thoughts Triumph already 1 [Exit.
Duke. Now my son is gone, Who is not of our counsel, we must think How to behave us, if the prince succeed ; Our daughter, which we promis'd him in marriage, Being already sent away, the price Of his great victory.
Flav. Trouble not yourself, Great sir ; your wisdom, that inclined your faith To my true character of the prince, and took My counsel for her absence, shall applaud My future policy. He is not come To conquest yet ; however, princes are not Obliged to keep what their necessities Contract, but prudently secure their states, And dear posterity. Trust to my care. Fioretta's no match for Ferrara's son ;
Sc. I.] THE IMPOSTURE. 187
A prince deep read in lusts, faithless, and cruel : So will a turtle with a vulture shew, Or lamb yok'd with a tiger. She's a pledge, Destin'd by better fate to crown your age And heart with blessings, sir.
Duke. Hark!
The drums talk louder ; from the battlements 1 may behold their fight, and see which army Conquest, now hovering in the air, will make * Her glorious perch, upon whose plumed heads She may advance, and clap her brazen wings.
[Exit. — Alarum at a distance.
Flav. Sir, Til attend— Claud io.
Clau. My lord.
Flav. Thou left'st the princess Fioretta Safe at Placentia?
Clan. Yes, sir.
Flav. How did she like her progress ? thou didst
urge
It was my care of her, to take her from The fright and noise of war }
Clau. I did, my lord.
Flav. And did she taste it well ?
Clau. To my apprehension Exceeding well ; and gave me strict commands, To say she will remember, and reward Your love and care of her.
Flav. Did she name love?
Clau. The very word she us'd : and I returned, How much your study and ambition was, To merit her fair thoughts.
Flav. And didst thou scatter, As I instructed, here and there dark language, To disaffect her with the prince, to whom The duke hath rashly made a promise ?
Clau. All ; I had fail'd my duty else, my lord.
* Will make her glorious perch,"] The old copy has mark.
188 THE IMPOSTURE. {Act I.
Flav. Call me
Thy friend, thou hast deserv'd me. Now attend The duke, {exit Clan.] — So! now my next art
must be
How to come off with Leonato ; if His arm prevail, the duke must be instructed. — Honorio thinks his sister still F the nunnery ; That thought must be preserv'd. A thousand
wheels
Move in my spacious brain, whose motions are Directed by my ambition, to possess, And call Fioretta mine ; while shallow princes I make my state decoys, then laugh at them.
Alarum ; HONORIO, wounded) led in by CL AUDIO.
The prince Honorio wounded ! fate, I bless thee. — How is it with your highness?
Hon. I am shot, sir.
Flav. Would it were dangerous ! {aside.'] — Be careful of him.— {Exeunt Clau. and Hon. A curse upon that hand that miss'd his heart !— So, so ! Fortune, thou shalt have eyes again, If thou would'st smile on mischief; I will build
thee
An altar, and upon it sacrifice Folly, and all her children ; from whose blood A curled smoke shall rise, thick as the mists That breathe from incense, to perfume and hide The sacrificing priest, {alarum.] — Fight on ! Ye are brave fellows ; he that conquers may Get honour, and deep wounds, but 1 the day. {Exit.
Sc.IL] THE IMPOSTURE. 189
SCENE II.
The Same.— Before the Gates of the City.
Alarum and retreat. Enter LEONATO, VOLTERINO, HORTENSIO, and Soldiers, in triumph, at one side; at the other, Men with boughs of laurel, singing before the Duke, FLAVIANO, and CLAUDIO.
You virgins, that did late despair To keep your wealth f row cruel men,
Tie up in silk your careless hair, Soft peace is come agen.
Notv lovers' eyes may gently shoot
Aflame that will not kill ; The drum was angry, but the lute
Shall whisper what you will.
Sing Id, Id ! for his sake,
Who hath restored your drooping heads; With choice of sweetest flowers, make
A garden where he treads :
Whilst we whole groves of laurel bring,
A petty triumph to his broic, Who is the master of our spring,
And all the bloom we owe.
Duke. Our hearts were open, sir, before the
gates,
To entertain you. I see laurels grow About your temples, where, as in a grove, Fair Victory, enamour'd, on your brow Delights to sit, and cool her reeking head, And crimson tresses, in your shade.
Flav. The city,
190 THE IMPOSTURE. [Act I.
In glory of this day, shall build a statue To you, their great preserver, whose tough brass, Too hard for the devouring teeth of age, Shall eat up time, to keep your fame eternal. Our active youth, in honour of your name, Shall bring again the old Olympic games, And willing to forget what's past in time And story, count their years from this day's tri- umph,
As if the world began but now. The wives, As if there were no legends past of love, Shall only talk of you, and your great valour; And careless how man's race should be continued, Grow old in wonder of your deeds. Our virgins, Leaving the natural tremblings that attend On timorous maids, struck pale at sight of blood, Shall take delight to tell what wounds you gave, Making the horror sweet to hear them sing it ; Their hands, at the same time, composing garlands Of roses, myrtle, and the conquering bay, To adorn our temples, and the priests' ; and while The spring contributes to their art, make in Each garden a remonstrance 3 of this battle, Where flowers shall seem to fight, and every plant Cut into forms of green artillery, And instruments of war, shall keep alive The memory of this day, and your great victory. Yet all that can be studied, short of you; Our best, a rude imperfect monument Of your deserved honours !
Leo. You are too bountiful In language, sir : the service we have done May merit your acknowledgment, which, though
3 Each garden a remonstrance of this battle,'] The whole of this speech is studiously inflated and bombastic, and marks the insincerity of the speaker. Remonstrance is sufficiently cata- ehrestic ; but it seems to be used in a kind of military sense, for a representation, a mimic show.
5c.IL] THE IMPOSTURE. 101
The justice of your cause directed first To this success, was not without a hope Of a reward you promis'd; and I value it More than you can esteem all your preservings ; So much hath fame preferr'd your daughter's virtue To every excellence.
Duke. This adds to what We held before excess of honour to us. I had but a part i' the universal benefit Your valour gave ; but this affection Falls like a happy influence on myself And blood, whose aged streams you fill with
blessings.
My daughter shall be your's, in which I sum My life's chief satisfaction. — My lord, Go to the house of Benedictine nuns, Among whose sweet society our daughter, During this war and tumult, went to offer Her prayers for our deliverance. — lam in [ExitFlav. A storm, and now must stand ray desperate fate.
{Aside.
Hort. I hope she's not turn'd nun ?
Leo. I should not like it.
Vol. May not we visit the holy house 1 'tis pity
so much
Sweet flesh should be engross'd, and barrell'd up With penitential pickle, 'fore their time, That would keep fresh and fair, and make just work For their confessions. I do not like the women Should he cabled up.
Hort. I think so.
Vol. I would this virgin would be peevish now !
Hort. Why so?
Vol. That we might have some sport among the
leverets ;
For I would so inflame the general He were affronted, that we should have all Commission to work into the warren.
192 THE IMPOSTURE. [Act I.
Leo. We
Do want a person here, whose name is great I' the register of honour ; it would much Enlarge our present happiness to embrace him, Your son, the prince Honorio.
Duke. 'Twas his chance, Upon a sally, when your colours gave Us invitation to the field, and spirited Our soldiers, to receive a shot, whose cure May excuse the want of his attendance, sir ; Nor will I doubt his wounds are doubled by The thought he cannot wait upon your person. Leo. He should have honoured us, and made
me proud,
To know whom so much fair desert hath made Dear in the voice and love of men ; — but I Shall not despair to see him. We want [too] A limb of our own army : where is signior Bertoldi, that came with us to see fashions? I hope we have not lost him.
Hort. Sir, I know not ; I fear he's slain.
Vol. He will not die so nobly ; He'll ne'er give up the ghost without a feather bed. He was sick last night at the report we were But three leagues off the enemy, and call'd For a hot caudle. I, that knew his cold Disease, persuaded him to drink, which he Did, fiercely as I could wish, in hope to see him Valiant, and walk the round ; but, quite gainst nature, His ague shook him more, and all the drink, Which was the full proportion of a gallon, Came out at's forehead in faint sweat ; he had Not mov'd ten paces, but he fell down backward, And swore he was shot with a cold bullet. How Theyroll'd him, like a barrel, back to his tent, For levers could not raise him to make use OPs feet again, I know not, nor since saw him.
Sc. II.] THE IMPOSTURE. 193
Hort. I hope he's still asleep.
Vol. But when he wakes, And finds the army march'd away, he dares not Go home as'airi alone ; and how he'll venture O'er the dead bodies hither — he has done't !
Enter BERTOLDI, with muskets, pikes, Sfc.
Ber. Where is the general ?
Leo. Here comes our mirth.
Hort. A walking armory. — Noble signior Ber- toldi !
Ber. If you want pikes or muskets, there ! I could Have brought field-pieces, but 1 durst not venture My chine.
Leo. Where had you these ?
Ber. Ask, ask
The men I kill'd ; if they deny a syllable, I'll forswear the wars.
Vol. He has disarm'd, And robb'd the dead.
Hort. A coward Has impudence to rob a church.
Vol. He durst not take them from a man that had But so much life in him to gasp or groan ; That noise would fright him.
Hort. I rejoice, signior, You are safe come home.
Ber. I would I were at home ! An you get me among your guns again.— How is it, Volterino ?
Vol. This news will much exalt your mother's heart.
Re-enter FLAVIANO.
Leo. He is
Return'd. but with a melancholy face. Where is the princess?
Duke. Where is our daughter?
VOL, v. O
194 THE IMPOSTURE. [Act I.
Flav. Where her devotion, I fear, will make This dukedom most unhappy, if your virtue Exceed not what is read in other princes. It was my fear, that place and conversation Would mortify too much that active heat Should wait on the desires of high-born ladies.
Leo. The mystery?
Vol. Do not you find it? they have nunnified her.
Flav. Sir, your pardon ;
She, whom first fear and fright of war persuaded To join her prayer and person with the virgins, In the religious cloister; by what art Or holy magic won, is now resolv'd —
Leo. What hath she vow'd ?
Flav. Until a year be finish'd, By revolution of the day's great guide, Not to forsake the nunnery, but spend Her hours in thankful prayers to heaven for this Great victory.
Vol. So, so ! it will come to the battery I talk'd on.
Duke. It cannot be.
Leo. It must not be.
Vol. I am of that opinion, my lord ; It must not be ; this is a stratagem.
Flav. She humbly prays you would interpret this No breach of filial piety; — nor your highness A will [in her] to wrong so great a merit, As hath engag'd all fortunes here, and lives To bleed for you ; but weigh in your best charity, That duties are first paid to heaven, the spring And preservation of what makes us happy ; And she is confident, when you consider
Leo. How much rny honour suffers,— to employ The strength I have, to punish this affront.
Ber. A pox upon it ! we shall have more ing now.
fife II.] THE IMPOSTURE. 195
Duke. I hope you have no thought of any practice Here, to deserve that language ?
Vol. You are abus'tl.
Leo. If you be her father, sir, I must expect What did engage me hither, and without Delays ; or leave this city in a flame.
Ber. More fireworks !
Leo. In whose ashes I will bury This foul ingratitude.
Duke. We are ruin'd all. [Aside.
Ber. There is not so much danger, to be put In rank and file, with pie-meat in an oven, If a man were certain to come out again Dough-baked.
Leo. Yet stay ; I have consider'd. I may have leave to see this frozen lady ?
Duke. We are more undone. [Aside.
Flav. Your person may prevail, sir, And, by some better charm, gain her consent; Or, if you please not to engage yourself Upon the trouble of a hasty visit, The presence of her father, and what else We can prepare to keep your smile upon us, Shall be enforced, to clear how much we aim At the perfection of your wishes.
Ber. So, so!
Leo. Prosper.
Flav. I have now courage, sir, to serve your will, And am o' the sudden confident.
Leo. It pleases.
[Exeunt Leo. Hort. Vol. and Ber.
Duke. It is impossible.
Flav. Promise any thing In such a strait, and not despair to effect it. Be private men content with their poor fathom ! Since heaven we limit not, why should not kings, Next gods, perform the second mighty things? Your ear— [Exeunt.
02
196 THE IMPOSTURE. [Act II.
ACT II. SCENE I.
Mantua. — A Convent Enter FLAVIANO, and Abbess with a letter.
Flav. You will obey the duke's command ? Abb. Good princes
Punish, not teach us sacrilege ; I'll obey A thousand sufferings ere such a rape — Flav. A rape !
Abb. Of honour, honesty, religion. I am placed here to preserve, and not betray The innocent. Should I, instead of prayer, Chaste life, the holiness of vo.w, of discipline, . With those austerities that keep wild blood In calm obedience, now begin to teach Soul-murdering liberty, the breach of all Was promised heaven ?
Flav. Why, madam, you mistake ; We ask no virgin to turn whore ; we only Desire you would persuade some pretty nun, In this extremity, to take upon her The princess Fioretta, whom Leonato Ne'er saw, and be his wife in honest marriage.
Abb. Can you be thus Unjust to him, so late preserv'd your lives ?
Flav. Trouble you not your reverend head with
that;
He shall be satisfied, and you remain Still mother of the maids, No more sour faces, But turn your wit to the business. Abb. Never, sir.
Flav. Take heed, and have a care of this inclo- sure:
Sc.L] THE IMPOSTURE. 197
The duke's breath makes all flat ; 'tis yet no com- mon. You are old, and should be wise.
Abb. I would be honest.
Flav. Shew it in your obedience. Will you do it?
Abb. Never.
Flav. Do you hear? I sent unto this holy place A damsel calPd Juliana; she's in your catalogue, And yet but in probation : 'cause 1 see, You make so nice a conscience, so severe I' the rules of honesty, and would not have Your virgin province touch'd with least defilement, Pray let me speak with her ; it will concern you.
Abb. Would you pervert her?
Flav. I know not what you call Perverting ; but she has not too much nun's flesh : And, 'tis my charity to your chaste order, To give you timely notice.
Abb. What do I hear !
Flav. No more than you may justify in time, If things prove right. She was a merry soul, An you have not spoil'd her. If you mean to be No midwife, let me talk with her awhile.
Abb. Protect us, virgin thoughts ! [Exit.
Flav. So, so ! this was
Reserv'd to wind up all ; it may be fortunate. I know her spirit's high, and apt to catch at Ambitious hopes and freedom ; some good counsel May form her to my purpose. I have plung'd Too far, to hope for safety by return ; I'll trust my destiny to the stream, and reach The point I see, or leave myself a rock In the relentless waves. She's here ; I'm arm'd.
Re-enter Abbess, with JULIANA.
Jul. By your own goodness, reverend mother,
give No belief to him ; though he be a great man,
198 THE IMPOSTURE. \Acl\.
He hath not been held guilty of much virtue : Yet, 'tis my wonder he should stain my innocence. Pray, in your presence, give rne leave to acquit My virgin honour; for the wealth of all The world, I would not have this shame be vvhis-
per'd, To the stain of our profession.
Enter a Nun.
Nun. Madam, the duke.
Abb. The duke !
Flav. Peace to the fair Juliana. ^ [Exeunt Abb. and Nun.
. Jul. You are not noble ; A most dishonoured lord ; your titles cannot Bribe my just passion. Who will trust a man? Oh, sir, you are as black, nay, have a soul As leprous with ingratitude, as the angels Are white with innocence. Was't not enough To rob me of my honour, the chief wealth Of virgins, and confine me to my tears, Which ne'er can wash away my guilt, (should I Live hereto melt my soul into a stream With penitence,) but, when I had resign'd The world, with hope to pray, and find out mercy, You must thus haunt me with new shame, and
brand
My forehead here, as if you meant to kill My better essence by despair, as you Have stain'd my body J^\
Flav. Dear Juliana, I Confess 1 injur'd thee ; thou knew'st no sin But from my charm ; 'twas only I betray'd thee To loss of thy dear honour, then of liberty : For 'twas my practice, not thy pure devotion, Made thee a recluse first. But let not passion Lose, what I would not only save from shipwreck, But make as happy as thy thoughts can wish thee.
&.I.] THE IMPOSTURE. 199
By thy wrong'd self His true ! nor could I choose
Another way, than by discovery
Of both our shames, to right thee. I ana come
To make thee satisfaction in so high
And unexampled way of honour, thou
Shalt say I did deserve to be more wicked,
When thou hast weigh'd the recompense.
Jul. You amaze me.
Flav. Collect thy senses, and discreetly mind me ; Thou canst not be concern'd so much alive In any other story. Hear me gently, And prize the wealth of every syllable.
[Takes her aside.
Re-enter Abbess, with Duke.
Abb. Had you been pleas'd to have left your
daughter still
My charge and sweet companion, I should Have left no duty unessay'd, to have shewn In what degree I honoured her ; but I Must not dispute your royal pleasure : though, With some sad thoughts to separate, I resign'd her To your commands.
Duke. It was your virtue, madam. She found no Consent to be profess'd ; nor love the prince To whom I promis'd her a wife, although Our fears keep warm his hope, in his belief She's here enclosed still ; but without thy help We are all lost.
JuL The prince Leonato ?
Flav. There's a preferment ! this is considerable,
Jul. If you, my lord, be serious. A princess ! The change would do well.
Flav. Be but confident To manage it.
JuL Hath he not seen the princess By picture ?
Flav. Never.
200 THE IMPOSTURE. [Actll,
JuL Strange !
Flav. 'Twas a ceremony, In the necessities of our state, the duke Ne'er thought on ; and 1 meant not to insert it, As knowing Fioretta had no zeal To what her father darkly had contracted. His highness doth expect thee.
JuL It would be
More for my honour, if he took the pains To visit our religious house, aud then —
Flav. It shall be so.
JuL But 'twill be necessary You purge me to the abbess ; no suspicion Must live within her thought.
Flav. I apprehend. — [Cumes forward with JuL Oh, you have shot a trembling through my soul ; I dare not kiss your hand ; the earth you tread on Would too much grace the lips have su profan'dyou. Madam, your pardon. — Sir, be you the witness, I have wrong'd this noble virgin's honour. — It was my anger, and revenge upon Your goodness, that so late opposed me, made Me careless where I flung disgrace and scandal ; Thus I implore her mercy and forgiveness : Take her white thoughts to your's again; she is As innocent from sinful act by me, As the chaste womb that gave me life.
Duke. 'Tis piety
Thus to restore the innocent. — I conceive not His aim in this. [Aside.
Abb. Tis satisfaction.
JuL When I stray From your sweet precepts —
Abb. In! I am confirm'd. [Exit JuL
Flav. All to our expectation ; she's prepared A mistress for the prince.
Duke. But, now I think on't, She must not marry him ; it will breed ill blood.
&.I.] THE IMPOSTURE. 201
Flav. By all means marry him ; there's no other
way
To send him hence, and quit us of the army. I'll instantly acquaint him how J prosper. [Exit.
Duke. It must not be ; my honour will bleed
for it.
I have been too much guided by Flaviano. — Madam —
Abb. Your face is troubled.
Duke. No, my heart;
Which you may cure with honour, as I have Contriv'd it now.
Abb. I shall study, with my loss of life, To gain your bosom peace.
Duke. I like this virgin. I know my lord here hath been practising, But finds her not inclin'd to that extent We had proposed ; she is virtuous : you shall Counsel her only but to take the name Of my Fioretta, but not change her life To marry with the prince. I do believe Her chaste ; oh, let your goodness keep her still so, And fortify her virtuous thoughts. I doubt not But she, with holy eloquence, and pretence Of vow and virgin sanctity, may so Prevail upon him both to save herself, Our honours, and the kingdom from a sacrifice. — May not this be ?
Abb. Such extremes I know not.
Duke. If she persist a chaste and noble virgin, You must dispense ; — we have but little time For pause. Unless this present cure be found, We all must bleed to death upon the wound.
[Exit.
202 THE IMPOSTURE. [Act II.
SCENE II.
An Apartment in the Palace. Enter BERTOLDI.
Her. Hum! shall I never fight? drink will not
do't;
No, nor a whore, the greater provocation. I speak it to my shame, I never durst Fight for my wench ; yet gentlemen commend My confidence at paying of a reckoning : There I can kill them all with courtesy; , Discharge my pieces like a master gunner, At a great supper ; yet I am not valiant : This must be mended some way. —
Enter VOLTERINO.
Volterino ! a word.
'Tis npt unknown to you that I am a coward.
Vol. No, not a coward ; but you are not, sir, If I were put to answer upon oath, So valiant altogether as don Hercules, That strangled a great bull with his fore finger And's thumb, and kill'd the king of Troy's great
coach-horse With a box o' the ear.
Ber. Pox on't ! do not abuse me ; I shall take it scurvily an you deny it.
Vol. But you will not beat me ?
Ber. There's the thing; I know't, As well as you can tell me, 1 am base, And in plain terms a coward.
Vol. Why dost not beat thyself for being one?
Ber. Then I durst fight. No, [no] ; 1 was begotten
Sc. II.] THE IMPOSTURE. 203
In a great frost, between two shaking agues ; ] never shall be valiant : who can help it? But when you come home again, if you will but Swear I am valiant —
Vol. You shall pardon me.
Ber. Come, my mother shall make you amends.
Aha!
You love her ; she's a lady, and a widow That has the goldfinches. Hark in your ear ; You shall have her.
Vol. Shall I have her?
Ber. A word to the wise.
Vol. Would I
Were sure on't ! If I have thy mother, I will Not only swear thou art, but make thee, valiant.
Ber. Would it were possible ! upon that condi- tion You should have my sister too.
Vol. She's dead.
Ber. If she were alive, I mean.
Vol. Farewell! we'll treat again ; and, if Hive, Thou shalt be Julius Caesar. [Exit.
Enter HORTENSIO.
Ber. When I die, Thou shalt be Caesar's heir. — Noble Hortensio.
Hor. 1 am in haste. What's the matter ?
Ber. There lies your way ; a hundred thousand
ducats Will find entertainment somewhere else.
Hort. Canst thou help me to them ?
Ber. Yes, and a better business.
Hort. How? where? noble Bertoldi !
Ber. Why — but you are in haste.
Hort. No, no. Where is all this money?
Ber. Safe enough in a place.
Hort. But how shall 1 corae by it?
204
THE IMPOSTURE. [Act II.
Ber. You know my mother? Hort. The rich lady FJorelia, the court widow ? She is my mistress.
Ber. Yon shall have her. Hort. Shall I?
Enter LEONATO, FLAVIANO, and VOLTERINO.
Ber. Yes, and be master of as much money as Will make you mad. The prince ! Hark in your ear. [They walk aside.
Flav. I knew I should prevail, and I am happy. There's no frost now within her. If your excellence Would grace the monastery with a visit, And satisfy yourself, your presence will Perfect the business, and be a just excuse To some nice ceremonies that detain Her person, to comply with virgin modesty. The duke will meet you there.
Leo. I will attend him.
Flav. You will consider, sir, it is a place Not us'd to public treaties, though dispens'd with For this your solemn view and conference ; Your person may be trusted there without A numerous train.
Leo. You shall direct me, sir. Volterino, you shall only wait upon me. — Sir, when you please.
Flav. I'm proud to be your conduct.
[Exeunt Leo. Flav. and Vol.
Ber. You shall have her, And her estate ; that's fair. She has enough To undo the devil, if he go to law with her ; My father's dead, and has told him that already.
Hort. I'll do't.
Ber. Here is my hand, my mother's thine.
Hort. Not my mother.
Ber. She shall be any thing 111 have her.
Sc. II.] THE IMPOSTURE. 205
Do you but persuade her I am valiant, And I'll venture to beat her, an she dare Deny to marry any man I please To call my father-in-law.
Hort. Let's walk, and think on't.
Ber. You may swear any thing ; an you pawn
your soul For me, you know you cannot be a loser. [Exeunt*
SCENE III.
The Convent. Nuns discovered singing.
O, fly my soul ! What hangs upon Thy drooping wings, And weighs them down
With love of gaudy mortal things ?
The sun is now i the east ; each shade As he doth rise Is shorter made,
That earth may lessen to our eyes :
Oh, be not careless then, and play Until the star of peace
Hide all his beams in dark recess.
Poor pilgrims needs must lose their way,
When all the shadoivs do encrease.
During the Song, enter Duke, LEONATO, FLAVIANO, and VOLTERINO. The Song ended, enter JU- LIANA, Abbess, and Nuns.
Len. She is exceeding fair! what pity 'twere , Such beauty and perfection should be Confin'd to a melancholy cell ! — I approach You, madam, with the reverence of a votary,
206 THE IMPOSTURE. [Act II.
You look so like a saint ; yet nature meant You should not with such early haste translate Yourself to heaven, till earth had been made happy With living models from your excellent figure. You that become a cloud, and this dull dress So well, whose sight doth pale and freeze the
blood,
How will you shine to admiration Of every eye, when you put on those ornaments That fit your name and birth ! If, like a statue, Cold and unglorified by art, you call Our sense to wonder, where shall we find eyes To stand the brightness, when you're turn'd a shrine, Embellish'd with the burning light of diamonds, And other gifts, that dwell, like stars, about you?
JuL If you do fancy me an object so Prodigious, for the safety of your eyes And others, tender-sighted, give consent 1 may not change this poverty and place, More pleasing to myself than all the pride Can wait those goddesses at court you bow to.
Leo. And yet 'twere heresy in me to say You could receive addition or glory By the contributary blaze of wealth, Or other dress, which art and curiosity Can form : you are not by them graced, but they By you made beautiful. Jewels, near your eye, Take soul and lustre, which, but once remov'd, Look dull as in their quarry.
Flav. He is taken. [Aside.
Leo. I now applaud my fate, and must account My undertaking in this war, to save Your dukedom, but the shadow of a service, When I consider my reward. Oh, haste To make me envied of the world, and, once Possess'd of you, to undervalue all But heaven, of which you are the fairest copy.
JuL My lord, our study here is life, not language ;
Sc. III.] THE IMPOSTURE. 207
And in that little time I've had of practice,
My tongue hath learn'd simplicity and truth.
You are a prince, [sir,] and, in your creation,
But one degree from angels ; strive to rise
That one round higher, and you're perfect. I am,
By my good father's leave, and the sweet rules
Of this religious order, now i' the way
To meet another bridegroom, before whom,
While you stand a competitor, you fall
To atoms. — Sir, my love is planted here ;
And I hare made a vow, which your own charity
Will bid me not to violate, (your triumph
Being the spring of my imperfect duty,)
That for a year I'll spend my time among
This happy quire, to offer up my prayers
And humble gratitude to heaven, a weak
Oblation for our safeties.
Flav. Ha! how's this?
Leo. My lord, did you not say you had prevail'd ? What mockery is this?
Flav. I am undone.
What does the gipsey mean? she'll betray all. —
[Aside. Most excellent madam.
Jul. Oh, my lord, employ Your counsel to advance, not kill our virtue : Remember where and what I am.
Flav. So, so !
Vol. Sir, will you suffer this? a new affront!
Jul. I am resolv'd
To live, and pay you better tribute here For your affection, and unequall'd service. Here no distraction will afflict my prayers, Which, trust me, I will offer chastely for you At every hour of my devotion. 'Tis you, next heaven, that gave this blessing to us To meet, and in the holy quire breathe up Our sacred hymns, while angels echo to us,
208 THE IMPOSTURE. {Act II.
And heaven, delighted with our harmony, Opening her azure curtains, will present us A vision of all the joys we pray and hope for.
Flav. This my instructions 1 [Aside.
Jul. O, think, my lord,
To what a loss of heaven your love invites me ; Yet let [it] not be thought, while I pretend The choice and sweetness of a recluse, I Should in a thought accuse your worth, who are The man, of all the world, I most could fancy. If I be seen to blush, make it no sin ; I know it is but honourable love Wings your desire ; and that which should prefer
Is merit of your sword, that cut our way To freedom and soft peace, religion's pillow, The riurfee of science, and the general blessing. You have a title yet more strong pleads for you, The contract, and the promise of a prince, A chain with many links of adamant, —
Duke. I like not that. [Aside.
Jul. To bind 'and make me your's. — When I have nam'd these several interests, And look upon myself so short of merit, I chide your unkind destiny, at such Expense of honour to go off unsatisfied ; And quickly should despise myself, the cause Of your distaste, but that my vow confirms me, And mustering up religious thoughts, prevails, Above my other will, made to obey you. 'Tis but a year, my lord, that I have bound Myself this exile.
Leo. 'Tis an age.
Jul. But while
Time hath one minute in his glass of that, Nothing shall take me hence, unless you bring An impious strength upon this holy dwelling, And force me from my cell ; but you are far
Sc. III.] THE IMPOSTURE. 202
From such a sacrilege. — Oh, think not on it ! I'll place you in my heart, while you are virtuous ; But such an act might lose those noble thoughts Of you I wish preserv'd. But 1 offend, And am too large in this unwelcome argument. May wisdom guide your princely thoughts, whilst I Return to pray for you !
[Exit with Abbess and Nuns. Flav. She has o'erthrown all ! Vol. Sir, if you love her, she
Hath taught you a cunning way to make her your's ; This habit is compell'd ; a little force, For form, will disengage her : she does love you, And pleaded handsomely against herself.
Leo. No more. — I'll not despair yet of your
daughter ;
This is but virgin nicety ; at the next Meeting she may incline to smile upon me. She's too much treasure to be won at first Assault. — Volterino. [Exeunt Leo. Vol. and Hort. Duke. Flaviano. Flav. 1 did expect a storm. Duke. We are not safe yet. Flav. I wonder why Juliana kept not promise ; The dog-days thaw her chastity ! I'm mad. Oh for some stratagem to save all yet ! But you, sir, (give me leave to say,) are timorous ; Princes should tix in their resolves ; your consci- ence Should be as subject to your will as I am.
Duke. I must confess, Flaviano, I had no fancy To Juliana's marriage.
Flav. That was all my hope. — How could I love the man durst kill him now !
[Noise within.
Duke. 1 shudder. What noise is that ? Flav. These horrors will eternally affright us.
VOL. v. P
210 THE IMPOSTURE. [Act II.
Re-enter LEONATO, BERTOLDI, VOLTERINO, and HORTENSIO, withsivords drawn.
Leo. The man that dares be guilty of least inso- lence To any virgin, dies. [Exeunt Leo. Vol. and Hort.
Ber. My hopes are nipp'd ; I thought to have tasted nun's flesh, but the
general
Has made it fasting-day. [Exit.
Flav. I hope he means to force away Juliana.
[Cries within.
Ha ! they attempt it ; prosper them, dear fate ! Blest beyond expectation.
Duke. Dost think We shall be safe ?
Re-enter LEONATO, with JULIANA, VOLTERINO, and HORTENSIO.
Leo. I enjoy the other benefit of my sword In peace ; this shall be mine.
[Exeunt all but Flav. and Duke. Flav. The stars dote on us !
Enter HONORIO and CLAUDIO.
Hon. What unexpected tumults fright the city?
Duke. You are too bold upon your wound, Ho- nor io, To come abroad.
Flav. The prince has stolen your sister From the nunnery.
Hon. He dares not
Blemish his honour so ; though he deserv'd her, And all our lives, should she be obstinate.
Flav. 'Tis done.
Hon. This act shall lose him. Death upon
So. III.] THE IMPOSTURE. 211
The surgeon that hath dallied with my wounds ! But I'll revenge this rape. [Exit with Claud.
Duke. Look to the prince. {Exit.
Flav. I could adore ray destiny. The wench, sure, Meant to be ravish'd thus : I kiss thy policy. This chance hath made a dancing in my blood ; While sin thrives, 'tis too early to be good. [Exit.
ACT III. SCENE 1.
Ferrara. — An Apartment in the Palace. Enter FIORETTA and ANTONIO.
Fio. Is this Ferrara's court?
Ant. Yes, madam.
Fio. I will not yet discover. — I shall find A time, Antonio, to reward thy faith And service to me.
Enter DONABELLA, FLORELIA, and Ladies.
Ant. Here are ladies, madam.
Don. 1 have a great desire to see this wonder, The princess Fioretta, so much fam'd For beauty,
Flor. Comes she with his excellence?
Don. Most certainly ; so speaks the prince Leo-
nato,'s
My brother, 's letters, and that with some difficulty He gain'd her from the nunnery.
Flor. Who is this ?
Don. She has an excellent shape ; some stranger,
[sure.] Prithee, Florelia, ask.
Ant. This lady, madam, P2
212 THE IMPOSTURE. [Act III.
Seems to make some address this way. [walks aside. Flor. advances and speaks icithFio] — I know not
Upon what jealousy my lady left Placentia so privately, where she Was entertain'd by Flaviano's mother ; Though old, a lady of no decrepid brain.
Fio. Antonio. [Whispers him.
Flor. [to Don.] A lady, madam, calls herself
Lauriana,
Born in Placentia ; but the wars affrighting Both Mantua and the confines, she came hither With confidence of safety, till the storm At home be over. [Exit.
Don. It is not fit a person of your quality And presenceshouldbeengag'd to common persons; And if I may entreat, you shall consent To be my guest at court, which will be proud To entertain such beauty.
Fio. It must be Too great an honour, madam.
Don. Leonato,
My brother, hath secur'd your peace at home ; , Which cannot be less pleasing, if you taste The freedom I can here provide and promise you. We expect him every minute with the princess Fioretta, in whose love he holds more triumph Than—
Fio. And yet his fame was earlier than this con- quest,
For many noble virtues. But has your grace A confidence that he brings Fioretta with him ?
Don. Since he left Mantua, we received such letters.
Enter PETRONIO.
Pet. Madam, the prince is come to court, and
with him The gallant lady we expected.
Sc. I.] THE IMPOSTURE. 213
Fio. I am not well o' the sudden.
Don. Virtue defend !
Pet. The good old duke, your father, will Shew comfort in his sick bed, to behold A son and daughter.
Fio. Are they married ?
Pet. No, madam ; but I am confident So great a joy will not be long deferr'd ; 'Twere sin such hope should wither by delay. They both wish to be happy in your presence ; And you, at first sight of this princely sister, Will much applaud your brother's fate.
Don. I hope so. — How is it, madam, yet?
Fio. I do beseech you, Let not your grace's too much care of me Detain you from the joy your brother brings. — Another Fioretta! [Aside.
Enter LEONATO.
Leo. Donabella !
Don. I shall not fear a surfeit in my joys, To see you safe.
Fio. A gallant gentleman. [Aside.
Leo. What lady's that?
Don. A stranger, sir, with whom I have pre- vail^
To grace our court awhile, which will be honour'd In such a guest.
Leo. And I should call it happiness, If you would please to dwell for ever with us. I have brought home such a companion For both your beauties, you will not repent.
Fio. The duke of Mantua's daughter. 1 con- gratulate
Your double victory; and, if I may, Without imputed flattery, speak my thoughts,
214 THE IMPOSTURE. I Act III
You did deserve her, had she to her birth All the additions that grace a woman.
Leo. You haveconferr'd a bounty on me, madam, And leave me hopeless, to reward the debt I owe this fair opinion.
Fio. Sir, the venture
You made, through blood and danger, doth de- serve it ;
And she were impious, did not think herself Much honour'd to be call'd your valour's triumph. — I shall betray myself, [aside.'] — Censure me not Immodest, or suspectful of her virtue, Whom you have made the darling of your heart.
Enter BERTOLDI.
Ber. Sir, the duke calls for you.
Don. Signior Bertoldi.
Ber. Your grace's creature.
Leo. Will it please you, madam ?
Fio. I humbly pray your highness to excuse me. I may have time and happiness to attend you, When, with more health, I may present my ser- vices. I dare not see this lady.
Leo. Wait you upon that lady, signior.
Ber. With all my heart. — Incomparable lady —
Fio. I have servants to attend me.
Ber. But not one
More humble, or more active for your service. You cannot choose but know my lady mother ; I have not seen her yet, but she shall stay : I'll kneel to her when I have done with you.
[Exeunt.
Sc. II.] THE IMPOSTURE. 215
SCENE II. A Room in Florelia's House.
Enter FLORELIA and VOLTERINO.
Flor. But is my son so valiant, signior? This war hath wrought a miracle upon him.
Vol. He was a coward beyond Ela, madam, * I must acknowledge ; to whom men, in pity Of his birth, and care of your much-loved honour, Often forgave his life ; but, see the turn ! He that went forth (for all our conjurings And promise of no danger) as he had Been marching towards ^Etna, nay, before The instant fight, would have given all the world To have been assur'd, when he came home, but one Of every thing about him —
Flor. What do you mean ?
Vol. One eye, one ear, one arm, and but one leg To have hopp'd home withal,— strange, how, i' the
heat
O' the battle, he grew double, and there fought As he had two souls ! O, [madam,] had you seen, When, like a magazine, he march'd, with pikes, With guns, and corslets, which he took from the
enemy, With swords, more than a surgeon's sign, stuck
round,
And seeming like a porcupine, to shoot The iron quills —
Flor. But is this possible ?
Vol. I never saw a dragon do such things.
Flor. This was not by instinct, but some example
1 He was a coward beyond Ela, madam ;] The highest note in the scale of music. Our old dramatists frequently use the ex- pression, to denote the extreme of any quality.
216 THE IMPOSTURE, [^c* III.
He saw in you, that wak'd his sleeping spirit ; And he must owe all that is valiant in him To your brave soul, which, like a burning comet, Flew with prodigious terror to the enemy.
Vol. You do not jeer your servant"?
Flor. And go he,
By your great blaze, saw his next way to honour ; Nor can I but acknowledge all my joys Now in my son do flow from you. A soldier Was ever high in my esteem, but you Have placed the title nearest to me. Pray Favour me often with your visit.
Vol. The town's my own ! [Aside.
Flor. No complement, good signior ; your love, If placed on me, shall find an object, though Not equal to your favours, not ungrateful. I wonder he absents himself so long.
Vol. My care shall be to find him out, and bring
him, A welcome present to your eye. — She's caught !
[Aside, and exit.
Flor. These soldiers think, if they but once lay
siege,
We must come in by force or composition. Although a maiden town may not hold out, A widow, but well victualled with the bare Munition of her tongue, will tire an army. I must suspect my son, for all this legend, No mighty man at arms. He's here.
Enter BERTOLDI and HORTENSIO.
Hort. Your blessing ?
Flav. Take it : and with it all my prayers thou
may'st
Grow up in honour, and deserve to be Thy father's son.
Ber. Kiss her, Hortensio, do ; She is thine own.
Sc. II.] THE IMPOSTURE. 217
Hort. 'Twas my ambition, madam, To wait upon my convert, and to kiss Your white hand.
Flor. Signior Volterino was here but now, and
has Told me such stories, son —
Ber. Of me?
He had better eat my Spaniard, than mention me With any scruple of dishonour.
Flor. He Extols you for a soldier, and tells me wonders.
Hort. If you dare believe me, madam, your son
has Behav'd him like a gentleman.
Ber. I confess
1 was— but that's no matter — thank this cavalier: 1 can receive and give a gash, and look on't When I have done, without your cordial waters. Shall I cut you o'er the face, mother ?
Flo. Sir, I am poor, to recompense the honour You have done my son ; I see he is your convert : You that infus'd a soul in him, cannot Enough be glorified.
Hort. 'Tis within your power, Madam, to overpoise all my deserts. True, I did stir those dormant seeds of nobleness Your blood left in him, and made glow those sparks Into a flame were hid in hills of ashes. Now he is your's; and if you, madam, think I have done any service by an act Or precept, that could light your son to honour, You make me fortunate, and [do] encourage A soldier to employ his whole life here.
Flor. How do you mean ?
Hort. Without more complement, To love you, and—
Flor. What?
218 THE IMPOSTURE. [Act HI.
Hort. Wish myself with you, madam, when you dream.
Flor. You would be with me when I dream ? Hort. But I Should wake you.
Flor. But I should be very angry To have my sleep broke.
Hort. But I would please you again, And rock you into a trance with so much harmony, You should wish to die in't. — I am very plain.
Flor. Methinks you are very rough.
Hort. A soldier's garb, The old, but the best fashion ; a sword And flattery were not meant for one man's wearing. Madam, I love you, but not dote upon you, For you are something old.
Flor. I am, indeed, sir.
Hort. Yet you are very handsome, and I loveyou; You're witty, fair, and honest, but a widow, And yet I love you ; I do know you are rich, Exceeding, mighty rich —
Flor. And yet you love me?
Hort. But, madam, I am a man.
Flor. I do not mean To try you, signior. — Pray, son, do you.
Hort. Now put your vote in.
Ber. What should I do, madam ?
Flor. Try whether he be a man or no.
Ber. Should I ?
Flor. Do you hear? they say you are grown
valiant ;
Upon my blessing, I command you strike This gentleman, and do it presently.
Ber. Strike him ?
Flor. Yes.
Bert. Away, away! what! here?
Flor. Even here, this very minute.
Sc. II.] THE IMPOSTURE. 219
Ber. Not for your house, and all the monies in it ; Not for ray father's wardrobe, an I were An Adamite a-top o' the Alps ; though you Admire the relics, and have turn'd your gallery Into a chapel, where his several suits Hang up, like images, for you to pray to. Strike one taught me to fight ! \Exit Flor.
Hort. Is she gone ? what said she ?
Ber. The foolish woman —
Hort. Why, what's the matter I
Ber. She shews her breeding ; but do not you despair.
Re-enter FLORELIA.
Flor. If I mistake not, sir, you would pretend You love me honourably ?
Hort. May I perish else.
Flor. When you can make 't appear in visible
wounds
Upon your head or body, that my son Dares fight, you and I will be married.
Ber. I told you, signior, you should have my mother.
Hort. The devil
Shall have you both on easier conditions — * Visible wounds upon my head or body !
Flor. And here's my hand, upon the sight
thereof I'll be your wife ; and so — farewell till doom's-day !
Hort. But hark you, lady.
Ber. My mother is a witch. I shall ne'er be valiant in this world ; What quarrels I may havei' the next I know not ; There are some dead threateri'd to cudgel me.
Hort. Is there no hope that I may catch you in The noose of matrimony, unless your son First break my head ?
220 THE IMPOSTURE. [Act III.
Flor. I will not swear.
Hort. It is not your best course ; take heed of vows.
Flor. Why, my dear signior ?
Hort. For your soul's sake ; and yet, Dispose that as you please, I'll see who dare Carry your body from me. Spite o' Lucifer, I will have that, and come by't lawfully ; And so, my service. Think on't. [Exit.
Flor. A 'fine fellow ! [Exit.
Ber. Would I had his audacity ! My mistress Yet knows not what I mean ; but I will to her, And kiss her glove immediately. [Exit.
SCENE III.
A Part of the Palace. Enter HONORIO.
Hon. This court is like a twilight, where I
cannot
Distinguish day, or perfect night. Some faces Are cheerful as the morn ; others again Are dark, and wrapp'd, like evening's, in a mist. Is it instinct for my approach, that brings A resolution to revenge the rape Upon my sister? — Grow more strong, my thoughts, And let no fear distract you. — Prince, 1 have Consider'd thee in all thy pride of merit, Allowed my father's contract, and did give thee My sister's heart in thy own vote ; but when She only made a pause, for ceremony, Not disaffection, since thou could'st forget Thy honour of a prince, to invade her chastity, And forfeit thy religion, thus I come, To whip thy blood, or leave my own a sacrifice, —
Sc.IIL] THE IMPOSTURE. 221
Enter PETRONIO.
Sir, may a stranger ask, without offence, why The court, like Janus, doth present a double Face, as it labour'd 'twixt the fierce extremes Of triumph and despair?
Pet. Sir, you mistake not The mixture of our passions ; the court Smiles in our happiness, to entertain The prince, and his fair mistress ; but doth wear A grief and paleness for the duke, whose want Of health delays their marriage.
Hon. I apprehend.
Sir, 1 am bold. — May not a gentleman, Engag'd to visit other courts of Italy, Make his ambition fortunate, to receive A favour from this prince, and kiss his hand, Before he leave the dukedom 1
Enter LEONATO.
Pet. He is here, sir.
Lev. Lord Petronio, entreatthe princess Fioretta, And my sister, meet me i' the grove. — [Exit Pet. This gentleman — [Hon. kisses his hand.
Hon. You have made me happy, Though I want honour to be known. Your fame Speaks you a valiant prince, and fortunate ; And I must, with the world, congratulate Your victory at Mantua, upon which So rich a triumph waits.
Leo. What triumph, sir?
Hon. The princess Fioretta.
Leo. I acknowledge
That garland is my glory ; such a treasure Was worth more service than my sword could merit :
222 THE IMPOSTURE. [A* III.
But I must be a debtor to my stars, And can release all other happiness Within their influence to come, so they Confirm me lord still of her beauty's empire.
Hon. This doth become your excellence. What
error
(Receive it not profane) should heaven and nature Have made, to have kept your hearts too long
asunder?
And yet, I may mistake ; for, though your grace Affect her with all height your soul can fancy, I know not how her love may answer this Desert in you.
Leo. How, sir?
Hon. Your highness' pardon. I am no prophet ; nor do wish to see Upon your spring another wind, than what The wings of pregnant western gales do enrich The air withal, which, gliding as you walk, May kiss the teeming flowers, and with soft breath Open the buds, to welcome their preserver. I wish you might grow up two even cedars, Till your top boughs kiss heaven, that made you
flourish ;
When, stooping to behold the numerous branches That prosper in your growth, and what refreshing The world below receives by your cool shade, You wave your heads in the applause and wonder. This is the song I bring to your chaste Hymen, And thus would every good man pray, but that They fear, —
Leo. Fear! what?
Hon. The blessings they invoke, With all their importunity of prayers, Will not descend.
Leo. I cannot reach you, sir, Without a perspective. But this wanders from The doubt you made of Fioretta's love,
Sc. III.] THE IMPOSTURE. 223
To answer mine ; that talk was dangerous ; 1 must not hear't again.
Hon. You must, unless You can be deaf, or cut the tongue of fame out
Leo. The man hath somewhere lost his senses ,
— Go back,
And find thy strangled wits ; this language has No chain of reason. — I lose breath upon A thing distracted.
Hon. JTis not come to that ; I have no such hot vexation, but a soul Possess'd with noble anger, and with pity. Prince, I must tell you there are dangerous symp- toms
Of a state apoplex ; those airy stilts Of fame you walk on, will deceive your pride, When every honest breath, angry at what You did so late in the contempt of goodness, Will tell the wind how it mistook your praise, And in a sigh conclude her sad repentance. I come not, sir, to flatter.
Leo. It appears so.
Hon. But tell you what hath eat into your soul Of honour, and there poison'd all the worth The world once loved you for.
Leo. You talk as if
You had consulted with my fate, and read The leaves of my inevitable doom. — What action hath so much incens'd my late Kind stars to this revolt, and threat'neth like To busy tongues in rny disgrace ?
Hon. The noise
Is loud already. Would there were no truth In men, who say you ravish'd Fioretta, Sweet princess, from her prayers, and left a mo- nument
Of such a sacrilege committed by you, The very stones since groan in her behalf
224. THE IMPOSTURE. [ActliL
You ravish'd from the nunnery ! 2 On this Must needs depend her hate, Whose person and religious vow you have, Unlike a prince, profan'd.
Leo. You are very bold.
What confidence can that outside raise in you, To be thus saucy ?
Hon. Saucy !
Leo. Impudent.
Is life a burden, that you dare my anger ? What art?
Hon. A gentleman, that have more right to
honour, Than he that is a prince, and dares degenerate.
Leo. There's something in thy face would have
me think
Thou may'st be worth my punishment. That I Could uncreate thee ! If thy veins do house But common blood, to make thee a fit enemy In birth and soul to me, that I might kill thee Without a blush to honour ! Do not tempt My just rage, that, provok'd, will scorn a sword, And make thee nothing with a look. Begone ! Get hence with the same speed thou would'st avoid A falling tower, or had'st new seen a lioness Walking upon some cliff, and gazing round To find a prey, which she pursues with eyes That shoot contracted flame ; but when her teeth And paws arrive, they quickly leave no part, Or sign of what there was.
Hon. Just heaven, how high He talks, and counterfeits your noise! 1 have A charm against your thunder. If thou hast
* You ravish'd from the nunnery /] I have continued this useless passage ; doubtful whether it be an accidental repeti- tion of a preceding line, or the fragment of some lost, or dislo-. cated sentence.
&.III.] THE IMPOSTURE. 225
Courage to stay, thou quickly shalt repent Heaven's justice in my arm, sent to revenge Thy sacrilege. The more to encourage thee To fight, I am thy equal, and a prince,
[They draw.
Or may thy sin o'ertake my blood, and set A weight upon my soul when thou hast kill'd me.
[Theyfight.
Enter DONABELLA and JULIANA.
Jul. Alas ! my lord !
Don. Dear brother ! — Help ! What traitor's this ?
Leo. Away, sweet Fioretta !
Hon. Fioretta!
JuL Ha ! I am undone ! [aside.'} — Alas ! what
do you mean ? My brother, prince Honorio !
Leo. Thy brother ?
JuL Oh, let me hold thee safe in my embraces.
Honorio! ' ' "
Hon. The same ; but not her brother.
Leo. Pardon me ;
Whose soul disdain'd, in my belief thou wert An insolent stranger, to acknowledge any thing Of satisfaction ; but let thy sister Now speak for both.
Hon. Give space to my amazement.
Jul. If changing thus soft kisses, arms, and heart, You interpret violence, Fioretta then, Thy sister, has been ravish'd. Who hath thus Abus'd your faith, and wrong'd this prince's virtue, Clear as the light of stars ? I must confess, I seem'd to wave his courtship, when he first Beheld me veil'd, which modesty instructed :
VOL. v. Q
226 THE IMPOSTURE. [Act III.
And though my heart were won, I kept it secret, To make more proof of his, who, not consenting To be depriv'd too long of what he lov'd, He brought a force to the cloister ; but took me, His own, away without a rape ; and since, All his addresses have been honourable.
Hon. Instead of satisfaction, you enlarge My wonder. — What IMPOSTURE'S here ? The prince Is cozen'd ; yet she owns me. — Pardon, sir ; I was made [to] believe you did most impiously Compel my sister, and by force enjoy'd her ; But now I find we are all abus'd. To what Misfortune might this error have engag'd us !
Leo. This is my sister.
Hon. You cannot want a charity, That are so fair.
Jul. Would Leonato's sword Had prosper* d in his death ! I must be confident.
[Aside.
You have not yet made glad my heart, Honorio, With our good father's health ; I have some
trembling Within my blood, and fear all is not well.
Hon. Gipsey !
Jul. You look not cheerfully.
Hon. My father Enjoys a perfect health.
Jul. That word hath blest me. — Sister, and Leonato, you'll excuse, If I transgress with joy to see my brother ; Were but the duke my father here, I summ'd All my delights on earth —
Hon. She confounds me. [Aside.
Jul. Honorio and I will follow you.
[Exeunt Leo. and Don.
Hon. You are not my sister.
Jul. Sir, 'tis very true.
Hon. Where is she ?
Sc.IIL] THE IMPOSTURE. 22T
Jul. You shall know what will make you happy,
sir. If you preserve this wisdom.
Hon. I have seen you before.
Jul. But I am destin'd here To do such service to your family, — You shall know more.
Hon. Give me breath for two minutes, Be confident of my silence ; they expect you.
[Exit Jul. So ! let me have some air. Am I Honorio ?
Enter FIORETTA and BERTOLDI.
What prodigies are these ? we are all bewitch'd.-— Ha ! sister !
Fio. Brother ! Honorio !
Hon. Tisshe. What's he ?
Fio. Not worth the interruption of one kiss.
Ber. My friend.
Hon. My fool. — Fioretta, shew me where We may enjoy a shade ; I'll tell thee wonders.
[Exeunt Fio. and Hon.
Her. Sir, I shall meet with you again. — A pretty fellow ! [Exit.
ACT IV. SCENE I.
A Park. Enter FIORETTA and DONABELLA.
Fio. Madam, I fear this walk into the park May engage your grace too far, without some more To attend you.
Don. Our own thoughts may be our guard ; Q2
228 THE IMPOSTURE. [Act IV.
I use it frequently. But to our discourse Of prince Honorio, for we cannot find A nobler subject ; I observe that he And you have been acquainted.
Fio. 'Twas my happiness To have my breeding in the court of Mantua, Where I, among the rest of his admirers, Seeing his youth improved with so much honour, Grew into admiration of his virtues ; Which, now he writes man, do so fully crown him, His father's dukedom holds no ornament To stand in competition.
Don. You speak him high, And with a passion too, that tastes of love.
Fio. Madam, I honour him, As may become his servant.
Don. As his mistress Rather.
Fio. My heart is clear from such ambition.
Don. But yet notproof against all Cupid's shafts: I do not think but you have been in love.
Fio. Who hath not felt the wounds? but I ne'er
look'd
Above my birth and fortunes. Prince Honorio May become your election, and great blood.
Don. I find it here already.
Fio. Nor could you
Endear it where so much desert invites it To be belov'd.
Don. My looks do sure betray me. — I do believe him all compos'd of honour, And have received your character from the world So noble, all your praise can be no flattery. I know not by what powerful charm within His person, madam, 1 confess my eyes Take some delight to see him, but I fear —
Fio. 1 find your jealousy, and dare secure you. If in your amorous bosom you feel, madam,
Sc. L] THE IMPOSTURE. 229
A golden shaft, the cure is made by cherishing The happy wound ; my destiny hath placed My thoughts oflove where they cannot concern Your trouble or suspicion, nor indeed My hope, — for I despair ever to meet His clear affection whom I honour.
Don. Would This court contain'd whom you would make so
precious !
1 should with as much cheerfulness assist Your wishes, as desire your aid to mine : I do believe you have much credit with His thoughts, and virtue to deserve it, madam.
Flo. If you trust me,
The favour I have with his highness shall not Create your prejudice. Be confident ; Your birth, your beauty, and those numerous graces That wait upon you, must command his heart.
Don. Madam, you force a blush, for my much want Of what you're pleas'd to impute my ornaments. You are acquainted with yourself, and shew What I should be, if I were rich like you ; But my disparity of worth allow'd, Would you would call me sister, and impose Something on me ! my act of confidence, And free discovery of my soul, may [, happily,] Deserve [a] faith from you, that 1 shall never Injure his name you love.
Fio, There is no hope In my desires, and therefore I beseech, Dear madam, your excuse ; yet thus much I Dare borrow of my grief to say, he lives . Now in the court, for whose sake 1 thus wither.
Don. Alas ! I fear again. Is he composed Of gentle blood, and can to thee be cruel ?
Fio. No, he is very kind, for he did promise To be my husband ; we have been contracted.
230 THE IMPOSTURE. [ActlV.
Don. Disperse these mists, and clear ray wonder, madam.
Fio. When time and sorrow shall by death
prepare
My sad release of love, you may know all ; Were the condition of my fate like others, It were no grief to name him.
Don. This doth [the] more enlarge my jealousy.
Fio. But let us leave this subject, till time fit To ope the maze of my unhappy fortune. [Exeunt.
SCENE II.
Another Part of the Same. Enter behind BERTOLDI.
Ber. I heard that she was come into the park ; They cannot be far [off] ; they are in view, And no man with them. I will now be valiant.
Enter FLORELIA and HONORIO.
Flor. It was her highness' charge I should direct
you; I know her walk.
Ber. The blustering prince again! Who sent him hither1? I think he conjures. Now dare I with as much confidence undertake To cure a lion rampant o' the tooth-ache, As but go forward : and my valiant mother !
Hon. Your son ; I must excuse myself, then, to him.
Ber. Now shall I be fit for a carbonado.
Hon. I hope you'll pardon, sir, if I appear'd Less smooth when I last saw you.
Sc.ll] THE IMPOSTURE. 231
Ber. My good lord, your grace is too much
humble.
I'm your blow-ball ; your breath dissolves my being. But to shew how free my wishes are to serve you, If you have any mind, or meaning to my mother —
Hon. How do you mean ?
Ber. In what way your grace pleases ; She shall be your's : your highness may do worse. Although I say't, she has those things may give A prince content.
Hon. Your son is very courteous.
Flor. I should prepare you, sir, to look with mercy Upon his folly. But the princess.
Ber. Mother.
Flor. Will you be still a fool ?— What said you, sir, to the prince ?
Ber. Will you be wise, And use him tenderly?
Flor. Stain to thy father's blood !—
[Hon.'] I was coming, madam.
[Exeunt Flor. and Hon.
Ber. Umph ! he is my rival. Would my hilts
Were in his belly ! — they are out of sight. It is no rutting time ! no trick !
Enter FLAVIANO and CLAUDIO, disguised.
Flav. Signior Bertoldi !
Ber. I do not know you, friends ; but, howsoever, There is a purse of money.
Flav. Sir, I want not.
Ber. That gentleman, perhaps, can drink. — I
like not
Their goggle eyes; 'twas well I gave them money. — [Aside.
What do you want else ? you are soldiers ; 1 love a soldier.
Flav. I am a gentleman of Mantua, sir,
232 THE IMPOSTURE. [ActlV.
That owe my life to your command, as one
That had an interest in the preservation
Your army brought, when the enemy besieg'd us.
Ber. Your mercy, signior ; and how do all Our limber friends i' the nunnery ? I was one O' the cavaliers went with the general Into the orchard of [the] Hesperides, To fetch the golden dragon.
Flav. Golden apple, You mean, the princess Fioretta, signior. Is she married, sir?
Ber. No, no ; the duke will neither die nor live, To any purpose ; but they will be shortly. Have you a mind to kiss her hand ?
Flav. I shall be proud —
Ber. You shall be as proud as you please^ sir.
Flav. You can resolve me, is Honorio, Our duke of Mantua's son, here ?
Ber. Yes, he is here ; Heaven were a fitter place for him.
Flav. Ha ! look to him,
For he is come with bloody thoughts to murder Your prince Leonato. Caution him to walk With a strong guard, and arm himself with all That can be proof against his sword or pistol. He cannot be loo safe against the treason And horrid purpose of Honorio.
Ber. His mouth is musket bore. But are you sure He did resolve to kill our prince?
Flav. Most certain.
Ber. I am very glad to hear it.
Flav. Glad, sir?
Ber. Yes;
I cannot wish him better than a traitor, Now I shall be reveng'd.
Flav. Has he been guilty Of any affront to you ?
)Ber. He is my rival.
&.H.] THE IMPOSTURE. 233
Flav. Why do not you kill him then ?
Ber. Pox on him ! I cannot endure him.
Flav. He is then reserv'd To fall by me.
Ber. Tis too good to be true. Are you married, signior?
Flav. What then?
Ber. If you be not,
Do this, and you shall have my mother, A lady that has gold enough to pave The streets with double ducats. Here's my hand; Kill but this huffing prince, my mother's your's,
HONORIO passes over the stage.
And all her moveables. — 'Tis he ! alone too. There's a convenient bottom, sir, hard by, The finest place to cut his throat. I'll not Be seen.
Flav. I am resolv'd. — Charge home thy little
murderers, And follow.
Clau. I warrant you, my lord.
[Exeunt after Hon.
SCENE HI.
Another Part of the Same.
Enter YOLTERINO and HORTENSIO.
Vol. But tell me, Hastthou any hopes of madam Florelia?
Hor. I had a lusty promise.
Vol. From her?
Hor. The coxcomb, her sweet son.
Vol. Why, so had I ; he did contract her to me : A flat bargain, and sale of all she had, So I would say he was valiant.
234 THE IMPOSTURE. [ActlV.
Hor. That was the price he made to me; but I Had hope last visit from herself.
Vol. Be plain :
I'll tell thee, she gave me strong expectation. And came on like a cheveril.
Hor. I hear She has given out she will have one of us.
Enter FLORELIA behind.
Vol. She cannot love us both.
Hor. Would she had one! and then the toy
were over ; I could make shift to love her.
Vol. And to lie With her estate; one helps the t'other well.
Ftor. I find a change within myself; I hope I shall not prove in love, now, after all My jesting, and so many coy repulses To men of birth and honour.
Vol. It is she !
Ftor. Why do I think upon him then ? I fear This man of war has done't.
Hor. I have it ; we'll find whether she affect, Or juggle with us, presently.
[They draw their swords.
Flor. Those postures
Would shew some difference. Here I can ob- serve—
Vol. Your mistress ?
Hor. Mine, if she be pleas'd. What interest Can all your merit challenge above me ?
Vol. You will repent this insolence ; I must Forget to wear a sword, and hear thee name Florelia, with that confident relation To her fair thoughts, and not correct your pride ! I'll search your heart, and let out those proud hopes That thus exalt you.
Hort. You are cozen sd, signior ;
Sc. III.] THE IMPOSTURE. 235
I do not fear your probe, [they fight."] — She let's
us fight ;
If we had no more wit, we might foin in earnest. Flor. Ha, ha, ha ! are you at that ward, gentle- men?
Vol. She laughs to see us fence oj this fashion ; Let's come a little closer. [They fight.
Flor. Hold, hold, gentlemen ! For your own honours. Is this valour well Employ'd? What cause can urge effusion Thus of that noble blood was given you To serve your country ? Are you mad ?
Hort. We are But little better, to be both in love.
Flor. What woman,
Considered in her best, is worth this difference? She is cruel cannot find a better way To reconcile you, than by letting blood. Do you both love one?
Vol. It does appear so, madam. Flor. I would I knew the lady makes you both Unhappy ; I would counsel her some way, To set your hearts at peace. Vol. Tis in your power. Hort. Without more circumstance, do but look
upon
Yourself, and end our civil wars. We have both Opinion of your virtue, and both hope An interest in your love. If you will please To point which of us two is most concern 'd In your affection, you conclude our danger, And oblige one your everlasting servant. Vol. This, madam, is a charitable way To know your own, and save two lives ; for we Shall fix upon your sentence, and obey The fate you give us.
Flor. Do you fight for me ? And will it save incision, and preserve
236 THE IMPOSTURE. [ActlV.
Your noble veins, to know whom I prefer In my best thoughts of love ? This is but rea- sonable,
And 'twill be hard to set a period To this contention, for 1 love you both So equally, observe me, cavaliers, 'Tis most'impossible to distinguish which Is first in ray neglect ; for I love neither : Fight, or be friends ; you have your choice, and I My liberty. I had forgot to thank you For your infusion of that fierce courage Into my son ; there is great hope, if he Live till next year, he may be a constable ; He has an excellent art to keep the peace. Farewell! [Going.
Vol. Madam, for all this, I believe you love —
Hort. I believe now she's old, and has no teeth, Else she would bite at one of us. — Reverend
madam, —
That word has fetch'd her, — we have no other cor- dial
At this dead pang, for your disdain, but drink now. If you will have your son made a fine gentleman, Be sure you send him to the tavern to us ; He knows the rendezvous ; though you despair, We may wind him up yet with spirit of wine. However, we'll be merry, and perhaps, For all this, drink your health.
Vol. Bye, madam.
Hort. If you love your baby, send him.
[Exeunt Vol. and Hort.
Flor. I am to blame, but I must help it some way. [Exit.
Sc.1V.-] THE IMPOSTURE. 237
SCENE IV.
A retired Part of the Park.
Enter HONORIO, FLAVIANO, and CLAUDIO with pistols.
Hon. Two engines of so small extent, to do Such mighty execution ! May I see These instruments you say you have invented, And so commend for service ?
Flav. Yes, my lord. — Shew them to the prince. — Do they not fright
already ?
Your grace may take full view, and quickly be the Proof of what force they have.
Hon. I am bet ray 'd. Who hath conspir'd my death ?
Flav. To vex you, see him. [Discovers himself.
Hon. Flaviano ! what mak'st thou here?
Flav. To put off these commodities. You are A princely merchant, and affect this kind Of traffic ; that you may not die i' the dark, I'll tell you a brief story, which you may Report i' the other world : I did affect Ambitiously thy sister Fioretta ; Abus'd thy father with a false opinion Of Leonato ; for my end remov'd His mistress from the cloister, and persuaded A witty nun to take her name., and cheat The prince, whom he suspects not yet.
Hon. Damn'd rascal !
Flav. For pure love to your sister I did this.
Hon. Why, having been so impious, does thy
malice Pursue me, ignorant of all thy treasons ]
238 THE IMPOSTURE. [ActlV.
Flav. Would you know that? — because I am
undone
In my chief hope : the princess, whom I thought Thus placed secure, and apt for my own visit, Is gone, is vanish'd ; and as soon 1 may Find the impression of a ship at sea, And by the hollow track in waves o'ertake The winged bark ; distinguish where the birds, At chase i' the air, do print their active flight, As find in what part of the envious world Fioretta is bestow'd. This sad intelligence Surpris'd me like a storm ; nor was it safe To look upon the duke, who must too late Repent his trust, and punish it. In this conflict Of desperate thoughts, I thus resolv'd to see Ferrara, and the lady I preferr'd, But find things cannot prosper if you live, Whose angry breath will throw down what my
policy Wrougnt high, and strike my head beneath the
ruins. Are you now satisfied why you must not live !
Hon. Hear me: she's still in silence, and be-
liev'd My sister by the prince.
Flav. When you are dead, then You will be sure to tell no tales. — Now shoot.
Clau. In my opinion, if all this be truth, The mischief you have done may be sufficient, And he may live.
Flav. Villain ! wilt thou betray me ?
Clau. You have betray'd yourself ; and after this Confession, as I take it, I may be Your ghostly father, and prescribe you a penance*
[Points the pistol at him.
Flav. Hold!
Clau. I will but physic you; your soul has caught
Sc. IV.] THE IMPOSTURE. 239
A vehement cold, and I have two hot pills Will warm you at heart.
Hon. Shall my revenge be idle?
[Draws his sword. Clau. Good prince, you are too forward; an
you be
So hasty, I'm o' this side. — Did you think 1 would be false ? yet, lest my aim be unlucky. Trust your own hand to guide them.
[Gives the pistols to Flav. Flav. Thou art honest. — Thus I salute thy heart, Honorio. [snaps the pistol
at Hon.~\ — Ha ! no charge ? Clau. 'Tis time, sir, to be honest. I could serve
you
In some court sins, that are but flesh* colour, A wickedness of the first die, whose brightness Will fade, and tincture change : your murder is Crimson in grain ; I have no fancy to't — Sir, you are safe.
Hon. I see thou hast preserv'd me. Flav. I am lost for ever ! Hon. It is but a minute Since you were found. You must be pleas'd to
walk
Into the court ? the vestal you preferr'd No doubt will bid you welcome. — Fate, I thank
thee.
Flav. False stars, I dare you now ! . Clau. I shall wait on you. [Exeunt.
240 THE IMPOSTURE. [ActlV.
SCENE V.
An Apartment in the Palace.
Enter JULIANA.
JuL I have collected all my brain, and cannot, In any counsel of ray thoughts find safety. Honorio's death will not secure my strength, Or prop my languishing greatness : 'tis but like A cordial when the pangs of death hang on us ; Nay, to my present state, no other than Some liberal potion of a quivering stream, Drank to abate the scorching of my fever ; It cools to the taste, and creeps, like ice dissolv'd, Into my blood ; but meeting with the flame, It scalds my bosom, and augments the fire That turns my heart to ashes. Poor Juliana ! To what a loss hath thy first sin betray'd thee ! Ambition hath reveng'd thy breach of honour, And death must cure ambition ; for I have No prospect left, but what invites to ruin. I am resolv'd not to expect my fate, But meet it this way. [Shews a poniard.
Enter LEONATO.
Leo. Dearest Fiorelta.
Ha ! what offends my princess ? There is something That dwells like an eclipse upon thy eyes ; They shine not as they did ; a discontent Is, like a mildew, fallen upon thy cheek ; 'Tis pale and cold, as winter were come back To over-run the spring.
JuL My dearest lord, My face is but the title to a volume
Sc. V.] THE IMPOSTURE. 241
Of so much misery within, as will Tire your amazed soul to read.
Leo. Thou dost
Freeze up my blood already. O, call back Part of this killing language, if thou mean'st To make me understand thee ; the amazement Doth fall so like a deluge, I am drown'd Ere I can think my fears. How have we liv'd At distance, thou should 'st walk upon this earth- quake,
And my ground tremble not ? — but with this fright I am awake. Open the volume now, I will read every circumstance.
Jul. Observe then, What first becomes ray sorrow. [Kneek.
Leo. Dost thou kneel ?
That posture is for them have lost their innocence: We must do this to heaven.
Jul. 1 must to you.
Leo. What guilt can weigh thee down so low ? Dost weep too?
Jul. I should not love my eyes, if they were
silent ;
They know this story will too soon o'ercharge My feeble voice. That every tear could fall Into some character, which you might read, That so I might dispense with my sad tongue, And leave my sorrows legible ! Oh, my lord, I have wrong'd you above hope to find your mercy.
Leo. Take heed, and think once more what
thou hast done,
Ere thou describe such an offence, lest I Believe a fault will drown us both with horror. Thou hast not broke thy vow, nor given away Thy honour, since thy faith did seal thee minel
Jul. Not in a thought.
Leo. I will not see thee kneel. Rise, and be welcome to my arms ; thou bast Done nothing can offend me, Fioretta.
VOL. v. R
242 THE IMPOSTURE. [JcflV.
Jul. Alas ! I am not Fioretta.
Leo. Hal
This doth confirm me ; thou hast all this while But mock'd my fear ; and yet this weeping is Not counterfeit : thou art to blame my love ; Is it thy jealousy, that I am cold In my returns to answer thy affection ? Or, have I less in thy esteem of merit Than thy hopes flatter'd thee? or doth the time, That dully moves, and intermits the joys We promised, when the altar had confirm'd us, Sit heavy on thy thought? We will awake From this our sullen sleep, and quit of those Sick feathers that did droop our wings, fly to The holy man, whose charm shall perfect us, And chain our amorous souls.
Jul. Divide us rather. Joy is a fugitive of late ; and while You think of Hymen, you remove your wishes. Fioretta will forbid the priest.
Leo. Canst thou Forget thy love so much ?
Jul. Alas, my lord,
You have been all this while abused ; and when I have said enough, to assure your faith that I Am not your Fioretta, but a virgin Compeird to take her name, you will, I hope, Kill rne yourself, and save me a despair, That will conclude my breath else in few minutes.
Leo. Are not you Fiorelta, but a virgin Compell'd to take her name? Who durst com- pel thee?
Jul. The duke of Mantua.
Leo. I dissolve in wonder. Durst Mantua use me thus ? —Thy name ?
Jul. Juliana.
My blood (excepting what does fill the veins Of princes) flowing from the noblest spring Of honour.
&.V.] THE IMPOSTURE. 243
Leo. Where was Fioretta then ? Jul. Convey'd I know not whither, ere you came To save their lives that did betray you thus. I was too careless of my fale, that I Kept such a glowing secret still within me ; 1 had no fear to be consum'd, that had Another fire within me, whose wide flame Had soon devoured all my considerings. Alas, my lord, you did appear so full Of honour, virtue, and such princely love, 'Twas easy to forget on whom you smil'd. 1 had no thought to wish myself unhappy, Grown another name to my undoing ; Yet now, more tender of your birth and fame Than my own life, I cast myself beneath Your feet, a bleeding sacrifice.
Leo. Am I Awake, and hear all this ?
Jul. I see, my lord, In your enraged eye, what lightning is Prepar'd ; 'tis welcome : since I dare not hope To live upon your smile, I would fain die Betime, before the shame of my dishonour Enforce a mutiny upon myself. But think, my lord, while I confess all this Against myself, how free I might have been, How happy, how near heaven, above those glories, Had not you forced me from the blessed garden Where I was planted, and grew fair, though not Oblig'd by any solemn vow ; 'twas you, Your own hand, ravish'd me from that sweet life, Where, without thought of more than should con- cern
Your welfare in my prayers, I might have sung, And had converse with angels.
Enter PETRONIO.
Pet. Sir, I bring sad news. R2
244 THE IMPOSTURE. \ActVt.
Leo. I prithee speak ; I am prepar'd for all.
Pet. The duke is dead.
Leo. My father dead !
Pet. I do not like the princess at that posture.
[Aside.
Leo. I have forgot your name, lady,— -you may rise.
Enter HONORIO, FLAVIANO, CLAUDIO, and Guard.
Hon. My lord, I bring you news welcome as
health
Or liberty ; your soul will not be spacious Enough to entertain what will with joys And strong amazement fill it. How I swell With my own happiness, to think I shall Redeem your noble heart from a dishonour Will weigh down death ! You think you walk on
roses,
And feel not to what dragon's teeth and stings You were betray'd. I bring a disenchantment, And come with happy proofs —
Leo. To tell me this is not Your sister Fioretta, but a nun Suborn'd to cheat me. I know all the business, And arn resolv'd in my revenge. — Juliana, Sweet suffering maid, dry thy fair eyes, 'tis I Must make thee satisfaction ; I thus, By thy own name, receive thee to my bosom : — But you, that practis'd cunning, shall, ere time Contract the age of one pale moon, behold The country I preserved, a heap of ruins.
Jul. Flaviano! [aside.']— Sir!
Hon. Do you know
Whom you embrace ? Flaviano has confessed Himself the traitor, and the black contriver Of all this mischief. Leonato, hear me, Or by thy father, newly fall'n to ashes,
Sc. V.] THE IMPOSTURE. 245
I shall repent I had an honourable
Thought of thee. — Flaviano! — Madam witchcraft !
My rage will strangle my discourse ; my soul
Is leaping forth to be reveng'd upon
That devil.— Prince, keep off, his very breath
Will stifle thee, and damn thy honour to
All ages. Fioretta's now in court.
Flav. Ha ! in the court?
Leo. This is some new device.
Hon. I charge thee, by thy blood, throw off
these harpies,
And do my sister justice, whom their treason Hath made a scorn. That minute she usurps Her name of bride, I shall forget the altar, And turn myself the priest, with all your blood To make a purging sacrifice.
Leo. If, when we
Receive our rites, thou dost but frown, or whisper To interrupt one ceremony, I Will make thee hold the tapers, while the priest Performs the holy office. Tell thy sister, Here I bestow what you have made me forfeit. Present her to the nunnery, and counsel Thy ignoble father, when I next see Mantua, To be asleep in's coffin, and his vault Deep, and thick-ribb'd with marble, my noise else Will shake his dust. Thy youth finds mercy yet; Take the next whirlwind, and remove. — Our
guard ! — Petronio, we confine him to your house.
[Exeunt all but Hon. and Pet.
Hon. Thou coward prince ! there's not one
honest man
In all the world. Our sins ascend like vapours, And will, if justice sleep, stupify heaven. For thine own glory wake ; if thou dispense With this, proud man will cry down providence.
[Exeunt.
246 THE IMPOSTURE.
ACTV. SCENE I.
A Tavern ; a table and stools set out.
Enter VOLTERINO, HORTENSIO, and PANDOLFO with a towel.
Vol. Such wine as Ganymede doth skink to Jove, When he invites the gods to feast with him On Juno's wedding-day.
Pan. Jove never drank So brisk a nectar as I'll draw. But does Signior Bertoldi come ?
Hort. What else, my alderman o' the cellar?
Vol. He is our Hilas. Shall we not have music ?
Hort. By all means, and the mermaids.
Pan. You shall have any thing. But if signior Bertoldi come, I have A boon to beg ; I have a pretty plot To make you laugh.
Vol. What is't ?
Pan. As you are gentlemen, do not deny me. I have been your up-and down-stairs-man, to draw The best blood o' the grape [foryou] these ten years ; Troy held out no longer. 1 have a device Shall make you merry when he comes, if you Will give me leave to shift, and help a jest. He is a coward still, under the rose?
Hort. As any lives under the sun ; be confident.
Vol. The same senseless piece of timber ; You may cut him into a bed-staff.
Pan. I'll send you wine. Say I am valiant ; Let rne alone with the catastrophe. [Exit.
Hort. What will he do?
Vol. I know not ;
Sfc.L] THE IMPOSTURE. 247
He were best make us laugh ; 1 shall expound The matter else.
Enter BERTOLDI, and Drawer with wine.
Ber. My mother remembers her service, gentle- men.
I left my mistress to come to you : and how ? Shall we drink like fishes ? Tolle roll lolly, $c.
Vol. Sit, sit ! A health to the lady you kiss'd last ! [Drinks.
Ber. Let it come ; I'll pledge it, An it were the gulf of Venice. [Drinks.
Hort. And who's your mistress ?
Ber. Faith, I do not know her name, nor ever kissed any thing but her glove in my life.
Vol. But you have told her your mind?
Ber. Not I, by this wine ! But that's all one ; She is a lady, well bred, and companion To the princess ; that's enough. — Here, signior. Would we had some wenches here !
Hort. Some bouncing bona-robas. Hang this
dull city ! There is no music in't, no silken music.
Vol. Oh, for a wench
Could spit fire now ! that could whiz like a rocket, And fall into a hundred blazing stars: Such a firedrake would be warm company In a close room, signior.
Hort. An it were in a cellar under the Alps, It would make Hercules melt in the back.
Ber. But for all that, I do not like a sinner Of such a fiery constitution.
Hort. You would not venture upon the Golden
Fleece then, Which is but the moral of a maidenhead ?
Ber. I never heard that afore.
Hort. So say the learned ; first, for the difficulty
248 THE IMPOSTURE. [ActV.
to obtain it, being watch'd by a dragon ; and then for the rarity, there being but one in all the world.
Ber. But one maidenhead ?
Vol. And that some hold as doubtful as the phoenix or unicorn. Such things are in history ; but the man's not alive that will take his oath in what climate they are visible. Here's to the swan that broke her heart with singing last ! [Drinks.
Hort. And to the dolphin, that was in love with a fidler's boy of Thebes, who carried him cross the seas on her back a-fishing, while he sung the siege of Troy to the tune of Green-sleeves, and caught a whale with an angling rod. [Drinks.
Ber. I'll pledge them both; they are very fine healths. [Drinks.
Are these your mistresses' names, gentlemen?
Re-enter PANDOLFO, dressed like a soldier.
Vol. Mystical, mystical.
Ber. I understand they are mystical. — Who's this?
Pan. Save you, gentlemen.
Vol. Tis the drawer. [Aside to Hort.
Pan. I do not like the odour of your wine.
[He throws it in Bertoldisface.
Ber. Was it a health? let it go round, gentlemen. I am troubled with sore eyes, and this signior Has wash'd them for me. I hope I shall see to thank him.
Hort. Cry mercy, signior ! you are like a noble gentleman 1 saw at Rome : you are the very same to whom his holiness gave a pension for killing six great Turks in Transylvania, whose heads were boiled, and brought home in a portmanteau.
Pan. It was but five, sir, and a Saracen.
Hort. You are the man.
Vol. Pray give me leave to honour you.
Ber. I desire to be your poor admirer too.
&.I.] THE IMPOSTURE. 249
My eyes are clear to see your worth ; my name is Bertoldi, at your service.
Pan. To you, signior, A health to Julius Caesar, Prester John, And the Grand Cham of Tartaria. [Drinks.
Vol. You shall not pledge him.
Ber. No!
Vol. Make your exceptions, I'll justify them.
Hort. This cavalier drank to you, sir.
Ber. I do remember, but I cannot pledge him.
Pan. How, sir?
Ber. No, sir, I'll pledge my friend Prester Jack ; But for Julius Csesar and the Grand Cham, they are
Pagans ; I have nothing to say to them.
Re-enter a Drawer.
Draw. Here is a gentleman, he seems of quality, Enquiring for signior Volterino and Hortensio. Hort. Admit him, an he be a gentleman.
[Exit Draw.
Enter FLORELIA, dressed in man's clothes.
Flor. You'll pardon, if a stranger, that has had Along ambition to kiss your hands, Rather entreat for his access, than lose The happiness of your knowledge.
Vol. Sir, you are Most welcome.
Hort. If you will keep us company, You must be equally engag'd.
Ber. My humble service. Signior Hortensio's mistress ! [Drinks.
Flor. You honour me. — Would I were off again ! [Aside.
Ber. Excuse me, signior.
Flor. You are too full of ceremony.
250 THE IMPOSTURE. [Act V.
Pan. Sir, is there any difference between you And Julius Caesar, you would not pledge his health?
Ber. No difference in the world.
Pan. How ! no difference Between you and a Roman emperor?
Flor. Divide them. What's the matter !
Hort. O, for some trumpets !
Ber. Somebody hold my sword. Give me the
wine ; I'll drink it. [Drinks.
Pan. So! we are friends.
Flor. O, shameful !
Ber. But I shall find a time —
Pan. Find twenty thousand years ; there's time enough.
Vol. I'll be your stickler.
Ber. I have" not pledg'd the Cham yet, nor I
will not : Come, I know you well enough.
Pan. Know me! for what?
Ber. For a brave fellow ; and a man may be- lieve thou hast done things as well as the best on them ;. but I know not where, nor I'care not. Tell me of Julius Caesar ! I am a gentleman, and have seen fighting afore now : here's a cavalier knows it. 1 scorn to be baffled by any Transylvanian Turk- killer in Christendom, I ; thou'rt a mufti.
Vol. Well said, and a sandiack.
Ber. And a sandiack ! I defy the Grand Cham, and all his Tartars. You are a stinking obstrepe- rous fellow ; and— 1 honour you with all my heart.
Hort. He call'd you mufti.
Pan. What's that?
Hon. And a sandiack; that is, son of whore in two languages.
Pan. How ! in two languages ? then my honour
is concerned. Have I in thirty battles 'gainst the Turk
&.I.] THE IMPOSTURE. 251
Stood the dire shock, when the granadoes flew,
Like atoms in the sun1?
Have I killed twenty bashaws, and a mussel man,
And took the sultan's turban prisoner,
And shall I be affronted by a thing
Less than a lanceprezado ?
Ber. Will nobody hold me?
Flor. Gentlemen, this heat Must needs be dangerous.
Pan. Let me but speak with him.
Vol. No danger, o' my life ; let them go toge- ther, And let us mind our business.
Pan. Signior, I am your friend, and pity you Should lose so much your honour. Be advis'd ; I'll show a way how to repair your fame, And without danger.
[Pan. and Ber. talk privately.
Hort. To Volterino's mistress ! [Drinks.
Flor. I receive it; I shall have my share. —I
now
Repent my curiosity to see
Their humours, and to hear what they would say Of me. [Aside.
Hort. Let them alone. — To Volterino's mistress !
[Drinks.
Vol. Come ; to my whore ! [Drinks.
Flor. Your whore, signior?
Vol. Does that offend you ?
Flor. Not me ; I have done you right — I am well enough rewarded an they beat me.
[Aside.
Ber. I know not how to deserve this courtesy, Being a stranger : but if you want a wife, noble sir, And will accept of my mother, you shall have her Before any roan in Italy.
Pan. 1 thank you, sir ; But be sure you hit me full o' the head.
252 THE IMPOSTURE. [ActV.
Ber. 'Tis too much ; A cut o' the leg, an't please you 1
Pan. No, let it be o' the head.
Ber. You will not strike again?
Pan. Mine's but a foil.
Hort. They measure, and give back.
[Ber. strikes Pan.
Pan. Oh, I am slain ! a surgeon.
Flor. Til take my leave.
Hort. By this hand, I'll drink his mother's health
first! There's no danger an he were dead. — A health to
the lady Florelia ! I drink it for his sake. [Drinks.
Vol. Away, and get a surgeon. {Exit Pan.
Ber. Come, to my lady mother ! [Drinks.
A man is not born to be a coward all his life.
Flor. I can no more, sir.
Hort. You should have told me, sir, at first ; There is no remedy, 'tis to an honourable lady.
Flor. You must excuse me, sir.
Ber. Throw't in his eyes.
Hort. At your request.
[Hort. throws the wine in Flor elia's face.
Flor. You are most uncivil.
Hort. You are a mushroom. [Strikes Flor.
Flor. So, sir!
You are a multitude, and in a tavern. I did believe you, sir, a gentleman ; If you be, give me satisfaction nobly.
Hort. With all my heart.
Flor. Then thus. [Whispers Hort.
Re-enter Drawer.
Draw. Signior Bertoldi, fly ! his wound is dan- gerous ;
We fear he will bleed to death before the surgeon come.
Sc.l.] THE IMPOSTURE. 253
Vol. Out by the postern !
Ber. Pox ! a conspiracy !
I shall kill but one, I see that. Would I were A mite in a Holland cheese now ! [Exit.
Hort. I will not fail you, sir.
Draw. He desires to speak with you before he die.
Hort. Is Bertoldi gone?
Vol. Hortensio, I guess you may be engag'd. Leave me to these things, there may be danger.
Hort. I know the private way. {Exeunt.
SCENE II.
A Garden. Enter HONORIO.
Hon. Virtue and honour, I allow you names ; You may give matter for dispute, and noise, But you have lost your essence ; and that truth We fondly have belie v'd in human souls, Is ceas'd to be : we are grown fantastic bodies, Figures, and empty titles, and make haste To our first nothing. He that will be honest, Must quite throw off his cold decrepid nature, And have a new creation. — My poor sister ;
Enter FIORETTA.
She has heard the duke's resolve.
Fio. Oh, let me die Upon thy bosom, brother ; I have liv'd Too long : they say the duke resolves to marry With Juliana, so they call her now, Whose sorcery hath won upon his soul. 1 have walk'd too long in dark clouds, and accuse
254 THE IMPOSTURE, [ActV.
Too late my silence. I am quite undone ;
There was some hope, while he did love my name ;
But that, and all is banish'd. Is't not in
The power of fancy to imagine this
A dream, that hath perplex'd us all this while?
If it be real, I will be reveng'd ;
"f is but forgetting what I am, and then
I am not concerned.
Hon. Rather forget the duke, And live to triumph in a love more happy. He is not worth a tear.
Enter behind DON A BELL A.
Don. How's this? My heart !
Hon. Come, I will kiss these sorrows from thy
cheek.
This garden wants no watering; preserve This rain, it is a wealth should ransom queens. As thou dost love me, chide thy saucy grief, That will undo the spring here, and enforce My heart to weep within me equal drops Of blood for these
Don. Oh, my abused confidence ! Lauriananow, 1 find, hath but betray'd me ; Instruct me, Rage and Jealousy. [Exit.
Fio. I am resolv'd.
Hon. Well said ; take courge, Fioretta ; Appear with thy own name and sufferings, Thy sight will strike the proud impostors from Their pyramids of glory.
Fio. It were more Revenge to die.
Hon. Not so, dear Fioretta. Something glides Like cheerfulness o' the sudden through my blood ; Despair not to be happy : let's consult, And form the aptest way for all our honour.
{Exeunt.
Sc. III.] THE IMPOSTURE. 255
SCENE III.
An Apartment in the Palace. Enter FLAVIANO.
flav. There's but one cloud in all our sky ; were
that
Remov'd, we were above the rage of storms : That Claudio knows too much. I look upon His life like a prodigious blazing comet ; He palls my blood ; if I but meet him handsomely, I'll make him fix'd as the north star. I hear No whisper of him yet ; were but he dead, Juliana and her friend might revel here : The duke should have the name, but we would
steer
The helm of state, and govern all. I have Gain'd much upon Leonato's easy faith, Who thinks me innocent, and that only duty Misled my nature and my tongue, to obey The duke of Mantua and the prince, upon Whose heads 1 have translated all my guilt,
Enter LEONATO and CLAUDIO.
And fram'd their jealousy at home my cause Of flight for refuge hither. — Ha! my eyes Take in confusion ! the duke and Claudio ! 'Tis doomsday in my soul.
Leo. Can this be justified ?
Clau. I Hare confirm this truth with my last blood.
Flav. I dare not hear it. That I now could fling Myself upon the winds ! [Exit.
Clau. And should be happy
256 THE IMPOSTURE. [ActV.
Were Flaviano's life put into balance Against my own, to make it clear by his Confession. To my shame I must acknowledge I was the agent 'twixt them ; he was pleas'd To choose me his smock officer, a place Poor gentlemen at court are forced to serve in, To please luxurious greatness ; younger brothers, Who cannot live by fair and honest ways, Must not starve, sir.
Leo. Flaviano's whore !
Where can we hope to trust our faith, when such White brows deceive us?
Enter JULIANA.
Jul. I do not like
This Claudio's business here ; the duke is troubled : My whole frame trembles.
Leo. Madam Juliana, My excellent white devil, you are welcome. Where is your cat-a-mountain Flaviano1? You are no serpent's spawn !
Jul. Oh, hear me, sir, By your own goodness.
Leo. When didst thou kneel to heaven ?
Jul. I see my leprosy unveil'd ; that sin, Which, with my loss of honour, first engag'd My misery, is with a sunbeam writ Upon my guilty forehead ; but I have not (Excepting the concealment of my shame, Which charity might privilege) offended Above what I confess'd, and you have pardon'd.
Leo. She hath a tongue would almost tempt a
saint
To unbelieve divinity : she learn'd Some accents from that first apostate angel That mutinied in heaven.— Away ! I dare not trust my frailty, Where's Flavianol
[Exeunt Leo. and Clau.
Sc.lll] THE IMPOSTURE. 25T
JuL My soul doth apprehend strange shapes of horror.
Enter FIORETTA.
Ha ! 'tis the princess Fioretta !
Fio. Can you direct me, madam, how I may Speak with the noble lady Juliana ?
JuL I can instruct you, madam, where to find A miserable woman of that name.
Fio. Where?
JuL Here. [Kneels.
Fio. Do not deceive me. I came to visit her whom the duke's love, And confluence of glories, must create A duchess, to whose greatness I must pay My adoration.
JuL Do not mock her, madam, To whose undoing nothing wants but death. Let riot my sin, which cannot hope your pardon, Make you forget your virtue. Princely natures, As they are next to forms angelical, Shew the next acts of pity, not derision, When we are fall'n from innocence.
Fio. Do you know me? —
suL For the most injured princess, Fioretta.
Fior. You must know more ; I come to take re- venge, And kill thee.
JuL Thus I kneel to meet your wounds, And shall account the drops my proud veins weep, Spent for my cure. Oh, madam, you are not
cruel ;
You have too soft, too merciful a look. When you see me, your countenance should wear Upon it all the terrors that pale men Can apprehend from the wild face of war, A civil war, that will not spare the womb
VOL. v. S
868 THE IMPOSTURE. [ActV.
That groan'd, and gave it life ; this would become
you:
Or fancy meagre famine, when she hunts With hollow eyes, and teeth able to grind A rock of adamant to dust, or what Complexion the devouring pest should have, Were it to take a shape ; and when you put Their horrors in your visage, look on me.
Fio. What hath prepared this bold resolve?
Jul. A hope
To be your sacrifice. I was not before Without a thought to wish myself thus laid And at your feet, to beg you would destroy me.
Fio. Can you so easily consent to die, And know not whither afterwards this guilt Would fling thy wandVing soul ?
Jul. Yes ; I would pray,
And ask yourself, and the wrong'd world forgive- ness.
Fio. Why didst thou use me thus 1 [JVeeps.
Jul. I could, if you
Durst hear me, say something, perhaps, would take Your charity. Do you weep, gentle madam ? And not one crimson drop from me, to wait Upon those precious showers ? Not to invite Your patience upon the lost Juliana, But to call back your tears into their spring, And stay the weeping stream, I can inform you, The duke looks on me now with eyes of anger : I have no interest in a thought from him, That is not arm'd with hate and scorn against me.
Fio. This will undo my pity, and assure me Thou hast all this while dissembled with my jus- tice.
Jul. I would I might as soon invest my soul With my first purity, as clear this truth ! Or, would the loss of him were all that sits Heavy upoo my heart ! 1 cannot hope
St. III.] THE IMPOSTURE. 859
For comfort in delays of death, and dare Attend you to him, though it more undo me.
Fio. Rise, and obey me, then.
Jul. I follow, madam ; My use of life is only meant to serve you. [Exeunt.
SCENE IV.
A Wood.
1 Enter HORTENSIO.
Hort. This is the place within the wood he pro-
mis'd
To meet in ; there is saint Felice's chapel, That father Ciprian's cell. I hope ray gamester Will think it fit I should not walk, and wait Too long for him. These businesses of fighting Should be dispatched as doctors do prescribe Physical pills, not to be chew'd, but swallow'd. Time spent in the considering, deads the appetite. If I were not to fight now, I could pray ; These terms of honour have but little grace with
them :
Like oysters, we do open one another Without much preface ; he that fights a duel, Like a blind man that falls, but cares to keep His staff, provides with art to save his honour. But trusts his soul to chance : 'tis an ill fashion,
Enter Friar.
Fri. This is the gentleman, by her description, That comes to fight Another champion I
S2
260 THE IMPOSTURE. [Act V.
Enter FLAVIANO,
Flav. Do none pursue me ! What a timorous hare This guilty conscience is ! I am not safe ; I had no time to think of a disguise, And this can be no wilderness. The duke Would give his palace for my head.
Hort. Say [you] so ? [Aside.
Flav. Oh for some Pegasus to mount ! A friar! His habit will serve rarely : seeming holiness Is a most excellent shrowd to cheat the world. — Good father sanctity, I must be bold, Or cut your throat ; nay, I can follow.
Fri. Help ! help ! [Runs off.
Hort. Thou sacrilegious villain !
Flav. I am caught already.
Hort.- My good lord Flaviano!- — Father, You may come back, and help to bind the gentleman.
Re-enter Friar.
If I did understand him well, he said The duke has some affairs to use his head-piece. I would not have him out o' the way when I Return. — To that tree, [they bind Flav. to a tree.] — You were best be gentle.
Flav. I can but die.
Hort Oh yes, you may be damn'd All in good time^ and it is very likely.
jFW. You have preserv'd my life, son.
Hort. It was my happiness to be so near, When virtue was distress'd.
Fri. You have not done, sir. As you are noble, follow me ; there is Another enemy to meet ; but I Dare be your second, and direct you.
Hort. What means the friar? I'll walk, and see the worst on't. [Exeunt all but Flav.
Sc. IV.] THE IMPOSTURE. 261
Enter BERTOLDI.
Ber. Oh, for a tenement under ground to hide
me !
This wood will hardly do't. If I can lurk Here but till night, I am furnish'd well with ducats. Your melancholy mole is happy now ; He fears no officers, but walks invisible. Would I were chamber-fellow to a worm ! The rooks have princely lives that dwell upon The tops of trees ; the owls and bats are gentle- men,
They fly, and fear no warrants ; every hare Outruns the constable ; only poor man, By nature slow and full of phlegm, must stay, And stand the cursed law. I do not think 'Tis so much penance to be hang'd indeed, As to be thus in fear on't.
Flav. Sir, look this way.
Ber. Oh, if I had but the heart of a woman's
tailor, I might run away now.
Flav, 1 am robb'd and bound.
Ber. Umph ! are you bound? there's the less danger in you.
Flav. For charity release me.
Ber. You are surely bound. — What's that? I hear another whispering o' that side. Now I sweat all over ; I but think if I Were naked, [now,] how maids might gather dew From every part about me. — Tis the wind Among the leaves. I do not like the trees Should lay their heads together o' this fashion. — You are my fast friend still.
Flav. Signior Bertoldi.
Ber. Does he name me ? — You and the tree shall grow together now.
262 THE IMPOSTURE. [ActV.
I came not hither to be known. — Some thief, Or sturdy rogue ; I have heard of these devices In woods before. Should I unbind him now, He'd cut my throat, or rob me for my charity.
Flav. 1 am the man, for your sake, undertook To kill the prince, your rival.
Ber. Did you so ?
I'll trust you ne'er the sooner. Well remembered ; I'm glad you're not at leisure : You that will kill your prince, will make but little Conscience to quarter me.
Flav. But he is still alive.
Ber. Is he so ?
Why, then I am the less behold ing to you ; So you shall cancel your own bonds yourself.
Re-enter HORTENSIO and Friar, with FLORELIA.
How now ! more persecution ?
Hort. Here was a duel quickly taken up, And quaintly too ; I did not think to marry The gentleman that challenged me to fight: I thank your device, madam.
Flor. Thank the blow You gave me, sir ; 1 love a man dares strike.
Hort. I'll please you better with my after strik- ing.
Ber. My mother and Hortensio !
Enter VOLTERINO and Officers.
Vol. SigniorBertoldi, well met. — Lay hands on
him, And bind him fast ; he has a dangerous spirit.
Ber. Who, I ? you may as well say I have skill In the black art. — Volterino, gentlemen, There is my mother*
Sc. IV.] THE IMPOSTURE. 263
Vol. Your son is valiant, madam, now, I hope, As you can wish ; he has kill'd his man ; but 1, Studious to gain your favour, have procured His pardon from the duke.
ffftrt. Is the drawer dead?
Vol. Dead as the wine he sometimes drew.
Hort. Farewell he! — Will you salute my lady, signior, And give us joy? yon friar married us.
Ber. Let me go, 1 have my pardon.
Vol. Not yet ; now
You shall be hang'd again. Did not you swear I should nave your mother?
Ber. You shall have her yet.
Flor. If it be so, He shall be worth your suit, and compound fairly.
Vol. No, 1 have thought of my revenge. Becauso I cannot have your mother, do you observe ? If you expect the benefit of this pardon, You shall marry mine.
Ber. I'll marry any living soul.
Vol. She's something old : till the last night, I
saw her not
These forty years ; since when, she's grown so ugly, I dare not own her ; and some think the reason Of her deformity to proceed from witchcraft.
Ber. Alas, good gentlewoman!
Vol. 1 mean she is
A wilch herself, and has two cats, they say, Suck her by turns, which some call her familiars. She has not had a tooth this thirty years ; And you may kiss her with a spunge F your mouth, She is so full of phlegm, else she'll go near To strangle you : and yet they say she has A most devouring appetite to man's flesh. You may have a devil of your own to attend you ; And when your're melancholy,
264 THE IMPOSTURE. [ActV.
She'll make you ghosts and goblins dance before
you,
Bring bears and bandogs, with an o'ergrown ape, Playing upon the gittern.
Hort. Where is this creature? shall he not see her first?
Vol. I left her in a sieve was bound for Scotland This morn, to see some kindred, whence she was Determin'd to take egg-shell to Schiedam : From thence, when she has dined, she promis'd me To ride post hither on a distaff.
Ber. How !
Enter PANDOLFO, disguised as an old woman.
Vol. Oh, here she is! — What think you of a hus- band,
Mother ? Can you love this gentleman ? he's one Will be a great comfort to you.
Pan. 1 like the stripling well ; He will serve to watch my pots, and see that none Of my spirits boil over.
Ber. Is this your mother? .
Come, Til be hang'd ; 'tis the more handsome
destiny, Unless you will take composition.
Pan. Let me talk with the gentleman.
[ Walks aside with Ber.
Hort. I am at leisure now to wait on you, sir. — Unbind, and lead him to the duke.
Vol. Flaviano ! you are the gentleman his high- ness
Gave strict commands should be pursu'd ; I shall Be proud to wait upon you to the court.
Flav. I will not lose my passion on such blood- hounds. Ber. We are agreed. — Hey ! here's my pardon.
THE IMPOSTURE. 265
Pan. Yes, I am satisfied, and can thank you,
signior, In several shapes. [Discovers himself.
Hort. The drawer!
Pan. I did want
A sum like this to set me up. I was Provided 'gainst your sword, a pretty night-cap, And almost pistol proof. I shall be rich ; I thank your bounty, and so rid the witch. [Exit.
Flor. Here's none of the duke's hand.
Vol. It needs not, rnadam. I know not yet by what device you came Together thus.
Hort. I'll tell you as we walk.
Ber. Pay for a pardon, and not kill my man ! The duke shall hear of this. [Exeunt
SCENE V.
A Room in the Palace. Enter LEON A TO.
Leo. No news of Flaviano yet ? Some furies Have sure transported him.
Enter PETRONIO.
Pet. A gentleman With letters, sir, from Mantua. Leo. Ha! Admit him.
Enter duke of Mantua.
Leave us. [exit Pet.~\ — The duke himself!
Duke. That comes to offer A pledge for young Honorio, not in thought Guilty of that unprincely entertainment
236 THE IMPOSTURE. [ActV.
You had at Mantun. If my son, as fame
Is busy in Ferrara, be expos'd
To your displeasure, change my fate with his,
That, to my shame, in part consented to
The practice of a traitor, Flaviano,
Who us'd my power to advance his own ambition
To your dishonour ; and, instead of ray
Fioretta, whether now alive or dead,
I know not. cheat your faith with Juliana,
To quit the noble safety your sword brought us.
My life is troublesome in the loss of fame,
And Fioretta.
Leo. Where is Flaviano?
Duke. Fled, like a guilty villain, from myjustice. May horror overtake him ! Let my son Live, by some noble deeds to expiate His father's forfeit and disgrace. I come Without a guard ; and were it not a crime To rny eternity, could sacrifice Myself, without expecting your revenge/ Or nature to conclude my age.
Enter DONABELLA, FIORETTA, and JULIANA.
Don. Let me have justice.
Fio. Give me justice, prince.
Jut. Let me have justice too.
Leo. Against whom, sister?
Don. Against this lady ; She hath conspir'd to take away my life.
Fio. My enemy is duke Leonato, sir, Who hath conspir'd to take away himself, A treasure equal with my life.
Jul. My enemy
Is Juliana, sir, that hath conspir'd To rob herself, both of her life and honour,
1 Without expecting your revenge,] i. e. without waiting for it : the old copy reads, " excepting your revenge."
&.V.] THE IMPOSTURE. 267
Duke. 'Tis she! my aged eyes take leave of
seeing ;
Expect no object after this so welcome. — My daughter Fioretta !
Fio. Dearest father !
Don. How ! Fiorelta ? she is then but sister To my Honorio, life of all my joys? My feet have wings at this glad news. [Exit.
Leo. Were you the suffering lady, Fioretta? How could you live so long within the court, And no good angel all this while acquaint me!
Fio. This joy is too, too mighty, and I shall not Repent my exile to be thus rewarded.
Leo. Confirm my happiness again ; no treason Shall now divide us.
Duke. Your hearts grow together !
Leo. 1 have received by Claudio the particular Of Flaviano's treason: he has guilt Above your knowledge, sir; Juliana finds it, And is confessed his strumpet.
Duke. You amaze me.
Fio. I bless now my suspicion, when I was Convey'd from Mantua, which directed me To leave Placentia secretly, and invite Myself a stranger to this court, where now 1 meet as much joy as my soul can fancy.
Jul. You have not all this while pronounced my
doom.
I fear you hold intelligence with my soul, And know what pains I feel while I am living ; You will not be so merciful to kill me.
Enter CLAUDIO, VOLTERINO, HORTENSIO, FLORELIA,
BERTOLDI, and FLAVIANO bound.
i
Clan. Flaviano !
Hort. I present you with a gentleman I took rifling a hermit in the wood,
268 THE IMPOSTURE. [ActV.
As it appears, in hope to 'scape pursuit, Hid in a friar's habit, who [was] dispatched After a matrimonial [feat] betwixt This lady and myself.
Ber. That old gentleman
Should be [the] duke of Mantua; — what think you, sir?
Clau. And that his daughter,, Fioretta.
Ber. She is my mistress.
Clau. She is like to prove the duchess of Ferrara.
Ber. His grace will not use me so. I will have justice. — Justice, gentle duke.
Flor. Are you mad?
Ber. I'll be reveng'd of somebody.
Enter HONORIO and DONABELLA.
Leo. Honorio, your son, to meet your blessing.
Don. This was the life I fear'd to lose by her, Whom I suppos'd my rival. — Pardon, madam.
Duke. Thus circled, I must faint beneath my happiness.
Leo. Forgive my passion, and receive a brother.
Hon. That name doth honour us. Where is Flaviano?
Flav. Whose witty brain must sentence me?
Let it
Be home and handsome ; I shall else despise, And scorn your coarse inventions.
Fio. Let me obtain,
Since providence hath wrought this happy change, You would not stain our joys with any blood; Let not their sins exceed our charity.
Leo. Let him for ever then be banish'd both Our dukedoms.
Hon. What shall become of Juliana?
Duke. She (if your grace, more fit to judge,
consent,) Shall to a house of converts and strict penance ;
Sc. V.] THE IMPOSTURE. 269
Where Flaviano, as the price of her Lost honour, shall pay her dowry to religion. What doth remain of his estate shall be Employed toward the redeeming Christian captives,
Jul. I cheerfully obey, and call it mercy.
Leo. 'Tis a most pious justice.
Ber. Justice !
That's my cue ; justice ! justice to Bertoldi, Against signior Volterino! I am cheated.
Flor. Will you be A fool upon record ?
Leo. You shall have justice. — Volterino, we appoint you, till he learn More wit, to be his guardian, and at your Discretion govern his estate. So, leave us.
Vol. I shall with my best study manage both.
Ber. I am as good as begg'd for a fool.
Leo. And thus we chain our hearts and pro- vinces.—
Madam, I wish you joys : — to Fioretta I give myself; my sister to Honorio. Treason is sick in her short reign ; but when Heaven sees his time, Truth takes her throne again.
[Exeunt.
EPILOGUE,
SPOKEN BY JULIANA.
Now the play's done, I will confess to you, And will not doubt but you II absolve me loo ; There is a mystery; let it not go far, For this confession is auricular : lam sent among the nuns, to fast and pray, And suffer piteous penance ; ha, ha, ha! They could no better way please my desires : lam no nun— but one of the Black Friars.
THE
CARDINAL
THE CARDINAL.] This Tragedy was licensed by the Master of the Revels in November 1641, and forms one of the six play» first published by Shirley in an 8vo. volume in l<>59-3. The title of the old copy is : " The Cardinal, a Tragedie, As it wa$ acted at the private House in Black Fryers. Written by Jame* Shirley:' It was among the pieces revived after the Resto- ration.
TO
MY WORTHILY HONOURED FRIEND,
G. B. ESQ.
SIR,
JL did suffer at the first some contention within me, and looking upon myself, was inclined to stifle my ambitious thoughts in this dedication ; but when some time, and a happy conversation, had preferred me to more acquaint- ance with you, (which was more argument to me than the fame I had heard of your reputation, with the most tem- perate and ingenious men,) I found you not only an excel- lent judge, but a 'good man : at this my modesty took full encouragement, to make this offering, which, as I conceive, to be the best of my flock, I knew not a better altar whereon to make it a sacrifice, with this protestation, that it comes (and that is it only which makes all devotions acceptable^ from the heart; and your candid acceptance will bind me with all my services and remembrance, to merit a. reception with you in the quality and honour of,
' . Sir, : ||||
your most humble devoted Servant,
JAMES SHIRLEY.
VOL. V.
PROLOGUE.
Tfte CARDINAL ! 'Cause we express no scene,
We do believe most of you, gentlemen,
Are at this hour in France, and busy there,
Though you vouchsafe to lend your bodies here ;
But keep your fancy active, till you know,
By the progress of our play, 'tis nothing so.
A poefs art is to lead on your thought
Through subtle paths and workings of a plot ;
And where your expectation does not thrive.
If things fall better, yet you may forgive.
I will say nothing positive ; you may
Think what you please ; tee call it but a Play :
Whether the comic Muse, or ladies' love,
Romance, or direful tragedy it prove,
The bill determines not ; and would you be
Persuaded, I would have't a Comedy,
For all the purple in the name, and state
Of him that owns it ; but 'tis left to fate :
Yet I will tell you, ere you see it play'd,
What the author, and he blushed too, when he saidt
Comparing icilh his own, (fort had been pride,
He thought, to build his wit a pyramid
Upon another's wounded fame, ) this play
Might rival icilh his best, and dar'd to say —
Troth, I am out : he said no more. You, then,
When 'tis done, may say your pleasures, gentlemen.
T2
DRAMATIS PERSONS.
King o/'Navarre.
The CARDINAL.
Columbo, the Cardinal's nephew.
Count d' Alvarez.
Hernando, a colonel.
Alphonso, a captain.
Lords.
Antonio, secretary to the duchess.
Colonels.
Antonelli, the Cardinal's servant.
Gentleman- Usher.
Surgeon.
Jaques, Pedro, and other Servant*.
Guard.
Attendants, Sfc.
Duchess Rosaura.
Valeria, i 7 ,.
Celinda,! ladies'
Placentia, the duchess's waiting -woman.
SCENE, the Capital of Navarre, and once on the frontiers.
TUB
CARDINAL
ACT I. SCENE I. An Apartment in the Palace.
Enter at one door, two Lords ; at the other, ANTONIO.
1 Lord. Who is that?
2 Lord. The duchess' secretary. 1 Lord. Signior!
Ant. Your lordship's servant.
1 Lord. How does her grace, since she left [off]
her mourning
For the young duke Mendoza, whose timeless death At sea left her a virgin and a widow ?
2 Lord. She's now inclining to a second bride-
groom.]
When is the day of mighty marriage To our great Cardinal's nephew, don Columbo ?
Ant. When they agree, they will not steal to
church ;
I guess the ceremonies will be loud and public. Your lordships will excuse me. [Exit.
1 Lord. When they agree ! Alas ! poor lady, she Dotes not upon Columbo, when she thinks Of the young count d' Alvarez, divorced from her By the king's power.
278 THE CARDINAL. [Act I.
2 Lord. And counsel of the Cardinal, To advance his nephew to the duchess' bed ; It is not well.
1 Lord. Take heed ; the Cardinal holds Intelligence with every bird i' the air.
2 Lord. Death on his purple pride ! he governs
all; And yet Colurabo is a gallant gentleman.
1 Lord. The darling of the war, whom victory Hath often courted ; a man of [a most] daring, And most exalted spirit. Pride in him
Dwells like an ornament, where so much honour Secures his praise.
2 Lord. This is no argument
He should usurp, and wear Alvarez title To the fair duchess ; men of coarser blood, Would not so tamely give this treasure up.
1 Lord. Although Col umbo's name is great in war, Whose glorious art and practice is above
The greatness of Alvarez, yet he cannot Want soul, in whom alone survives the virtue Of many noble ancestors, being the last Of his great family.
2 Lord. 'Tis not safe, you'll say, To wrestle with the king.
1 Lord. More danger if the Cardinal be dis-
pleas'd,
Who sits at helm of state. Count d'Alvarez Is wiser to obey the stream, than by Insisting on his privilege to her love, Put both their fates upon a storm.
2 Lord. If wisdom,
Not inborn fear, make him compose, I like it. How does the duchess bear herself?
1 Lord, She moves by the rapture of another wheel,1
1 She moves by the rapture of another wheel,] If this expres- sion be genuine, it must mean, she is seized, and hurried on by
&. L] THE CARDINAL. 2T9
That must be obey'd ; like some sad passenger, That looks upon the coast his wishes fly to, But is transported by an adverse wind, Sometimes a churlish pilot.
2 Lord. She has a sweet and noble nature. ^ 1 Lord. That
Commends Alvarez ; Hymen cannot tie A knot of two more equal hearts and blood.
Enter ALPHONSO.
2 Lord. Alphonso! Alph. My good lord.
1 Lord. What great affair
Hath brought you from the confines ?
Alph. Such as will
Be worth your counsels, when the king hath read My letters from the governor : the Arragonians, Violating their confederate oath and league, Are now in arms : they have not yet march'd to- wards us ;
But 'tis not safe to expect, if we may timely Prevent invasion.
2 Lord. Dare they be so insolent ?
1 Lord. This storm I did foresee.
2 Lord. What have they, but
The sweetness of the king, to make a crime?
1 Lord. But how appears the Cardinal at this news ?
Alph. Not pale, although
He knows they have no cause to think him innocent, As by whose counsel they were once surprised.
1 Lord. There is more Than all our present art can fathom in This story, and 1 fear I may conclude, This flame has breath at home to cherish it ;
a superior force, i. e. by the king : but there is, I suspect, some corruption of the text.
280 THE CARDINAL. [Act I
There's treason in some hearts, whose faces are Smooth to the state.
Alph. My lords, I take my leave.
2 Lord. Your friends, good captain. [Exeunt.
SCENE H.
A Room in the Duchess's House. Enter Duchess, VALERIA, and CELINDA.
Vol. Sweet madam, be less thoughtful ; this
obedience
To passion will destroy the noblest frame Of beauty that this kingdom ever boasted.
Cel. This sadness might become your other habit, And ceremonies black, for him that died. The times of sorrow are expir'd ; and all The joys that wait upon the court, your birth. And a new Hymen, that is coming towards you, Invite a change.
Duch. Ladies, I thank you both ; I pray excuse a little melancholy That is behind ; my year of mourning hath not So clear'd my account with sorrow, but there may Some dark thoughts stay, with sad reflections, Upon my heart, for him I lost. Even this New dress, and smiling garment, meant to shew A peace concluded 'twixt my grief and me, Is but a sad remembrance ; but I resolve To entertain more pleasing thoughts ; and if You wish me heartily to smile, you must Not mention grief, not in advice to leave it. Such counsels open but afresh the wounds You would close up, and keep alive the cause, Whose bleeding you would cure. Let's talk of something
Sc.Il-] THE CARDINAL. 281
That may delight. You two are read in all The histories of our court : tell me, Valeria, Who has thy vote for the most handsome man ? — Thus I must counterfeit a peace, when all Within me is at mutiny. [Aside.
Vol. I have examined
All that are candidates for the praise of ladies, But find — may I speak boldly to your grace ? And will you not return it in your mirth, To make me blush ?
Duch. No, no ; speak freely.
Val. I will not rack your patience, madam ; but Were I a princess, I should think count d' Alvarez Had sweetness to deserve me from the world.
Duch. Alvarez! she's a spy upon my heart.
[Aside.
Val. He's young and active, and compos'd most sweetly.
Duch. I have seen a face more tempting.
Val. It had then
Too much of woman in't : his eyes speak movingly, Which may excuse his voice, and lead away All female pride his captive ; his hair, black, Which, naturally falling into curls —
Duch. Prithee, no more ; thou art in love with
him. — The man in your esteem, Celinda, now ]
Cel. Alvarez is, I must confess, a gentleman Of handsome composition ; but with His mind, the greater excellence, I think Another may delight a lady more, If man be well consider'd, that's Columbo, Now, madam, voted to be your's.
Duch. My torment ! [Aside.
Val. She affects him not.
Cel. He has person, and a bravery beyond All men, that I observe.
Val. He is a soldier,
282 THE CARDINAL. [Act I.
A rough-hewn man, and may shew well at dis- tance.
His talk will fright a lady ; War, and grim- Faced Honour are his mistresses ; he raves To hear a lute ; Love meant him not his priest. — Again your pardon, madam. We may talk, But you have art to choose, and crown affection.
[Cel. and VaL walk aside. Duch. What is it to be born above these ladies, And want their freedom ! they are not constraint, Nor slav'd by their own greatness, or the king's ; But let their free hearts look abroad, and choose By their own eyes to love. I must repair My poor afflicted bosom, arid assume The privilege I was born with, which now prompts
me
To tell the king, he hath no power nor art To steer a lover's soul. —
Enter ANTONIO.
What says count d' Alvarez ?
Ant. Madam, he'll attend you.
Duch. Wait you, as I directed. When he comes, Acquaint me privately.
Ant. Madam, I have news ; 'Tis now arriv'd the court ; we shall have wars.
Duch. I find an army here of killing thoughts.
Ant. The king has chosen don Columbo general, Who is immediately to take his leave.
Duch. What flood is let into my heart ! How far Is he to go ?
Ant. To Arragon.
Duch. That's well
At first ; he should not want a pilgrimage To the unknown world, if my thoughts might con- vey him.
Ant. 'Tis not impossible he may go thither.
Sc. II.] THE CARDINAL, 283
Duch. How?
Ant. To the unknown world ; he goes to fight, That's in his way : such stories are in nature.
Duch. Conceal this news.
Ant. He will not be long absent ; The affair will make him swift To kiss your grace's hand. [Exit.
Duch. He cannot fly
With too much wing to take his leave.— I must Be admitted to your conference ; you have Enlarg'd my spirits ; they shall droop no more.
Cel. We are happy, if we may advance one
thought To your grace's pleasure.
Val. Your eye before was in eclipse; these smiles Become you, madam.
Duch. I have not skill to contain myself. [Aside.
Enter PJ^ACENTIA.
Pla. The Cardinal's nephew, madam, don Co- lumbo.
Duch. Already! Attend him. [Exit Pla.
Val. Shall we take our leave ?
Duch. He shall not know, Celinda,1 how you prais'd him.
Cel. If he did, madam, I should have the confi- dence To tell him my free thoughts.
Enter COLUIMBO.
Duch. My lord, while I am in study to requite The favour you have done me, you increase
1 Duch. He shall not know, Celinda,] The old copy reads, Valeria ; but erroneously, as appears from the dialogue, p. 281, and the commencement of the third act. In fact, the names of these two ladies are strangely confounded; and in a subse- quent part of this scene it has been found necessary to make them every where change places.
284 THE CARDINAL. [ Act L
My debt to such a sum, still by new honouring Your servant, I despair of my own freedom.
CoL Madam, he kisses your white hand, that
must
Not surfeit in this happiness — and, ladies, I take your smiles for my encouragement ; I have not long to practise these court tactics.
[Kisses them.
Cel. He has been taught to kiss.
Duch. There's something, sir, Upon your brow I did not read before.
Col. Does the character please you, madam?
Duch. More, Because it speaks you cheerful.
Col 'Tis for such
Access of honour, as must make Columbo Worth all your love ; the king is pleas' d to think Me fit to lead his army.
Duch. How! an army?
Col. We must not use the priest, till I bring
home
Another triumph, that now stays for me, To reap it in the purple field of glory.
Duch. But do you mean to leave me, and expose Yourself to the devouring war? No enemy Should divide us ; the king is not so cruel.
CoL The king is honourable ; and this grace More answers my ambition, than his gift Of thee, and all thy beauty, which I can Love, as becomes thy soldier, and fight To come again, a conqueror of thee. [She weeps. Then 1 must chide this fondness.
Re-enter ANTONIO.
Ant. Madam, the king, and my lord Cardinal.
[Exit.
Sc. II.] THE CARDINAL. 285
ing, Cardinal, and Lords.
King. Madam, I come to call a servant from
you,
And strengthen his excuse ; the public cause Will plead for your consent ; at his return Your marriage shall receive triumphant cere- monies ; Till then you must dispense.
Car. She appears sad To part with him.— -I like it fairly, nephew.
Cel. Is not the general a gallant man ? What lady would deny him a small courtesy?
Val. Thou hast converted me, and I begin To wish it were no sin.
CeL Leave that to narrow consciences.
Val. You are pleasant.
Cel. But he would please one better. Do such
men Lie with their pages ?
Val. Wouldst thou make a shift?
Cel. He is going to a bloody business ; 'Tis pity he should die without some heir : That lady were hard-hearted now, that would Not help posterity, for.the mere good Of the king and commonwealth.
Val. Thou art wild ; we may be observ'd.
Duch. Your will must guide rne ; happiness and
conquest Be ever waiting on his sword !
Col. Farewell.
[Exeunt King, Col. Car. and Lords.
Duch. Pray give [me] leave to examine a few
thoughts. — Expect me in the garden.
Cel. We attend. [Exeunt Cel. and Val.
Ditch. This is above all expectation happy.
286 THE CARDINAL. [Actl.
Forgive me, Virtue, that I have dissembled, And witness with me, I have not a thought To tempt or to betray him, but secure The promise I first made, to love and honour.
Re-enter ANTONIO.
Sec. The count d 'Alvarez, madam.
Duch. Admit him,
And let none interrupt us. [exit Ant.'} — How shall I Behave my looks ? The guilt of my neglect, Which had no seal from hence, will call up blood To write upon my cheeks the shame and story In some red letter.
Enter ALVAREZ.
Alv. Madam, I present
One that was glad to obey your grace, and come To know what your commands are.
Duch. Where I once
Did promise love, a love that had the power And office of a priest to chain my heart To your's, it were injustice to command.
Alv, But I can look upon you, madam, as Becomes a servant; with as much humility, (In tenderness of your honour and great fortune,) Give up, when you call back your bounty, all that Was mine, as I had pride to think them favours.
Duch. Hath love taught thee no more assur- ance in
Our mutual vows, thou canst suspect it possible 1 should revoke a promise, made to heaven And thee, so soon ? This must arise from some Distrust of thy own faith.
Alv. Your grace's pardon ; To speak with freedom, I am not so old In cunning- to betray, nor young in time,
Sc. II.] THE CARDINAL. 287
Not to see when and where I am at loss,
And how to bear my fortune, and my wounds,
Which, if I look for health, must still bleed inward,
A hard and desperate condition.
I am not ignorant your birth and greatness
Have placed you to grow up with the king's grace
And jealousy, which, to remove, his power
Hath chosen a fit object for your beauty
To shine upon, Columbo, his great favourite.
I am a man, on whom but late the king
Has pleas'd to cast a beam, which was not meant
To make me proud, but wisely to direct,
And light me to rny safety. Oh, dear madam !
I will not call more witness of my love
(If you will let me still give it that name)
Than this, that 1 dare make myself a loser,
And to your will give all my blessings up.
Preserve your greatness, and forget a trifle,
That shall, at best, when you have drawn me up,
But hang about you like a cloud, and dim
The glories you are born to.
Duck. Misery
Of birth and state ! That I could shift into A meaner blood, or find some art to purge That part which makes my veins unequal ! yet Those nice distinctions have no place in us ; There's but a shadow difference, a title : Thy stock partakes as much of noble sap As that which feeds the root of kings ; and he That writes a lord hath all the essence of Nobility.
Alv. 'Tis not a name that makes Our separation ; the king's displeasure Hangs a portent to fright us, and the matter That feeds this exhalation is the Cardinal's Plot to advance his nephew ; then Columbo, A man made up for some prodigious act, Is fit to be considered : in all three
288 THE CARDINAL. [Act I.
There is no character you fix upon But has a form of ruin to us both. Duck. Then you do look on these with fear ? Ah. With eyes
That should think tears a duty, to lament Your least unkind fate ; but ray youth dares boldly Meet all the tyranny o' the stars, whose black Malevolence but shoots my single tragedy. You are above the value of many worlds, Peopled with such as I am. Duch. What if Columbo, Engag'd to war, in his hot thirst of honour, Find out the way to death ? Alv. 'Tis possible.
Duch. Or say, (no matter by what art or motive,) He give his title up, and leave me to My own election ?
Alv. If I then be happy
To have a name within your thought, there can Be nothing left to crown me with new blessing; But I dream thus of heaven, and wake to find My amorous soul a mockery. When the priest Shall tie you to another, and the joys Of marriage leave no thought at leisure to Look back upon Alvarez, that must wither For loss of you ; yet then I cannot lose So much of what i was once in your favour, But, in a sigh, pray still you may live happy.
[Exit. Duch. My heart is in a mist ; some good star
smile
Upon my resolution, and direct Two lovers in their chaste embrace to meet ! Columbo's bed contains my winding sheet. [Exit.
Sc. I.]
THE CARDINAL.
289
ACT II. SCENE I.
Before the Walls of the frontier City.— Columbo's
Tent.
COLUMBO, HERNANDO, two Colonels, ALPHONSO, two Captains, and other Officers, seated at a Council of War.
Colu. I see no face in all this council that Hath one pale fear upon't, though we arriv'd not So timely to secure the town, which gives Our enemy such triumph.
1 Col. 'Twas betray'd.
Alph. The wealth of that one city Will make the enemy glorious.
1 Col. They dare Not plunder it.
Alph. They give fair quarter yet : They only seal up men's estates, and keep Possession for the city's use : they take up No wares without security ; and he, Whose single credit will not pass, puts in Two lean comrades, upon whose bonds 'tfs not Religion to deny them.
Colu. To repair this With honour, gentlemen?
Her. My opinion is To expect awhile.
Colu. Your reason ?
Her. Till their own Surfeit betray them ; for their soldiers, Bred up with coarse and common bread, will shew Such appetites on the rich cates they find, They'll spare our swords a victory, when their own Riot and luxury destroys them. VOL. v. U
290 THE CARDINAL. [ActU.
I Col That
Will shew our patience too like a fear. With favour of his excellence, I think The spoil of cities takes not off the courage, But doubles it on soldiers ; besides, While we have tameness to expect, the noise Of their success and plenty will encrease Their army.
Her. 'Tis considerable ; we do not Exceed in foot or horse, our muster not 'JBove sixteen thousand both ; and the infantry Raw, and not disciplined to act.
Alph. Their hearts,
But with a brave thought of their country's honour, Will teach them how to fight, had they not seen A sword. But we decline our own too much ; * The men are forward in their arms, and take The use with avarice of fame.
[They rise, and talk aside.
Colu. [slaying Her.]— Colonel, I do suspect you are a coward.
Her. Sir !
Colu. Or else a traitor ; take your choice. No
more.
I call'd you to a council, sir, of war ; Yet keep your place.
Her. I have worn other names.
Colu. Deserve them. Such Another were enough to unsoul an army. Ignobly talk of patience, till they drink And reel to death ! we came to fight, and force them To mend their pace : thou hast no honour in thee, Not enough noble blood to make a blush For thy tame eloquence.
Her. My lord, I know
1 But we decline our own too much;'] i. e. we form too low an estimate of the military qualities of our own troops. This is said in answer to Hernando.
Sc. L] THE CARDINAL. 219
My duty to a general ; yet there are
Some that have known me here. Sir, I desire
To quit my regiment.
Coin. You shall have license. — Ink and paper !
Enter an Attendant) with ink and paper.
1 Col. The general's displeas'd.
2 Col. How is't, Hernando?
Her. The general has found out employment
for me ; He is writing letters back.
Tohis mistress?
Her. Pray do not trouble me ; yet, prithee speak, And flatter not thy friend, Dost think I dare Not draw my sword, and use it, when [a] cause, With honour, calls to action ?
1 C M With the most valiant man alive.
Her. You'll do me some displeasure in your
loves : Pray to your places.
Colu. So ; bear those letters to the king ; [They] speak my resolution before, Another sun decline, to charge the enemy.
Her. A pretty court way Of dismissing an officer. — I obey ; success Attend your counsels ! [Exit.
Colu. If here be any dare not look on danger, And meet it like a man, with scorn of death, I beg his absence ; and a coward's fear Consume him to a ghost !
1 Col. None such [are] here.
Colu. Or, if in all your regiments you find One man that does not ask to bleed with honour, Give him a double pay to leave the army ;
U 2
292 THE CARDINAL. [Act II.
There's service to be done will call the spirits And aid of men.
1 Col, You give us all new flame.
Coin. I am confirmed, and you must lose no time ; The soldier that was took last night, to me Discover'd their whole strength, and that we have A party in the town. The river, that Opens the city to the west, 's unguarded ; — We must this night use art and resolution ; We cannot fall ingloriously*
1 Capt. That voice Is every man's.
Enter Soldier, and ANTONIO with a letter.
Coin. What now ?
'Sold. Letters.
Coin. Whence?
Sold. From the duchess.
Colu. They are welcome. — [Takes the letter. Meet at my tent again this evening ; Yet stay, some wine. — The duchess' heal Al [Drinks. See it go round. [Opens the letter.
Ant. It will not please his excellence.
1 Col. The duchess' health. [Drinks.
2 Capt. To me ! more wine.
Ant. The clouds are gathering, and his eyes shoot
fire; Observe what thunder follows.
2 Capt. The general has but ill news. I suspect The duchess sick, or else the king.
1 Capt. May be The Cardinal.
2 Capt. His soul has long been look'd for. Colu. She dares not be so insolent. It is
The duchess' hand. How am I shrunk in fame To be thus play'd withal ! She writes, and counsels, Under my hand, to send her back a free Resign of all my interest to her person,
&.I.] THE CARDINAL. 293
Promise, or love ; that there's no other way,
With safety of my honour, to revisit her.
The woman is possess'd with some bold devil,
And wants an exorcism ; or, I am grown
A cheap, dull, phlegmatic fool, a post, that's carv'd
F the common street, and holding out my forehead
To every scurril wit to pin disgrace
And libels on't. — Did you bring this to me, sir ?
My thanks shall warm your heart. [Draws a pistol.
Ant. Hold, hold! my lord! I know not what provokes this tempest, but Her grace ne'er shew'd more freedom from a storm When I receiv'd this paper. If you have A will to do an execution,
Your looks, without that engine, sir, may serve. — I did not [seek] the employment.
Colu. Ha ! had she
No symptom, in her eye or face, of anger, When she gave this in charge?
Ant. Serene, as I
Have seen the morning rise upon the spring ; No trouble in her breath, but such a wind As came to kiss, and fan the smiling flowers.
Colu. No poetry.
Ant. By all the truth in prose, By honesty, and your own honour, sir, I never saw her look more calm and gentle.
Colu. I am too passionate ; you must forgive me. I have found it out ; the duchess loves me dearly ; She expressed a trouble in her when I took My leave, and chid me with a sullen eye : 'Tis a device to hasten my return ; Love has a thousand arts. I'll answer it Beyond her expectation, and put Her soul to a noble test. — Your patience, gentle- men;
The king's health will deserve a sacrifice Of wine. [Retires to the table and writes.
294 THE CARDINAL. [Act II.
Ant. I am glad to see this change, and thank
my wit For my redemption. [Aside.
1 Col. Sir, the soldiers curse On him loves not our master !
2 Col. And they curse Loud enough to be heard.
2 Capt. Their curse has the v nature of gun- powder. Ant. They do not pray with half the noise.
1 Col. Our general is not well mix'tl ; He has too great a portion of fire.
2 Col. His mistress cool him, (her complexion Carries some phlegm,) when they two meet in
bed! —
2 Capt. A third may follow. 1 Capt. 'Tis much pity The young duke liv'd not, to take the virgin off.
1 Col. 'Twos the king's act, to match two
rabbit-suckers.
2 Col. A common trick of state ;* The little great man marries, travels then
Till both grow up, and dies when he should do The feat ; these things aje still unlucky On the male side.
Coin. This to the duchess' fair hand.
[Qives Ant. a letter.
Ant. She will think Time hath no wing, till I return. [Exit.
Colu. Gentlemen,
Now each man to his quarter, and encourage The soldier. I shall take a pride to know Your diligence, when I visit all your several Commands.
• A common trick of state, &c.] Shirley was thinking of his own government here ; he had seen more than one example of the marriages which he mentions, and their unlucky termina- tion " on the male side."
&. II.] THE CARDINAL. 295
Omnes. We shall expect. 2 Col. And move By your directions.
Colu. You are all noble. [Exeunt.
SCENE II.
A Room in the Duchess's House. Enter Cardinal, Duchess, and PLACENTIA.
Car. I shall perform a visit daily, madam, In th' absence of my nephew, and be happy If you accept my care.
Duch. You have honoured me ; And if your entertainment have not been Worthy your grace's person, 'tis because Nothing can reach it in my power ; but where There is no want of zeal, other defect Is only a fault to exercise your mercy.
Car. You are bounteous in all. I take my leave, My fair niece, shortly, when Columbohas Purchas'd more honours to prefer his name, And value to your noble thoughts ; meantime, Be confident you have a friend, whose office And favour with the king shall be effectual To serve your grace.
Duch. Your own good deeds reward yos, Till mine rise equal to deserve their benefit. —
[Exit Cardinal.
Leave me awhile. — [Exit Plac.
Do not 1 walk upon the teeth of serpents, And, as I had a charm against their poison, Play with their stings? The Cardinal is subtle, Whom 'tis not wisdom to incense, till I Hear to what destiny Columbo leaves me : May be the greatness of his soul will scorn To own what comes with murmur ; — if he can Interpret me so happily. — Art come?
296 THE CARDINAL. \_Actll.
Enter ANTONIO, with a letter.
Ant. His excellence salutes your grace.
Duch. Thou hast A melancholy brow. How did he take my letter?
Ant. As he would take a blow ; withso much sense Of anger, his whole soul boil'd in his face ; And such prodigious flame in both his eyes, As they'd been the only seat of fire, and at Each look a salamander leaping forth , Not able to endure the furnace.
Duch. Ha ! thou dost Describe him with some horror.
Ant. Soon as he
Had read again, and understood your meaning, His rage had shot me with a pistol, had not I us'd some soft and penitential language, To charm the bullet.
Duch. Wait at some more distance. — My soul doth bathe itself in a cold dew ; Imagine I am opening of a tomb ; {Open* the letter. Thus I throw off the marble, to discover What antic posture death presents in this Pale monument to fright^me. — Ha ! [Reads.
My heart, that call'd my blood and spirits to Defend it from the invasion of my fears, Must keep a guard about it still, lest this Strange and too mighty joy crush it to nothing. — Antonio.
Ant. Madam.
Duch. Bid my steward give thee Two thousand ducats. Art sure I am awake ? Ant. I shall be able to resolve you, madam, When he has paid the money.
Duch. Columbo now is noble. [Exit.
Ant. This is better Than I expected ; if my Jady be Not mad, and live to justify her bounty. [Exit.
Sc. III.] THE CARDINAL. 297
SCfiNE III.
An Apartment in the Palace. Enter King, ALVAREZ, HERNANDO, and Lords.
King. The war is left to him ; but we must have You reconciled, if that be all your difference. His rage flows like a torrent, when he meets , With opposition ; leave to wrestle with him, And his hot blood retreats into a calm, And then he chides his passion. You shall back With letters from us.
Her. Your commands are not To be disputed.
King. Alvarez, {Takes him aside.
1 Lord. Lose not
Yourself by cool submission ; he will find His error, and the want of such a soldier.
2 Lord. Have you seen the Cardinal ? Her. Not yet. "
1 Lord. He wants no plot — Her. The king I must obey:
But let the purple gownman place his engines T the dark, that wound me.
2 Lord. Be assur'd
Of what we can to friend you ; and the king Cannot forget your service.
Her. lam sorry For that poor gentleman,
Alv. 1 must confess, sir,
The duchess has been pleas'd to think me worthy Her favours, and in that degree of honour, That has oblig'd my life to make the best Return of service, which is not, with bold Affiance in her love, to interpose Against her happiness, and your election. I love so much her honour, I have quitted
298 THE CARDINAL. [Act 11.
All my desires ; yet would not shrink to bleed Out my warm stock of life, so the last drop Might benefit her wishes.
King. I shall find
A compensation for this act, Alvarez ; It hath much pleased us.
Enter Duchess with a letter.
Duch. Sir, you are the king, And in that sacred title it were sio To doubt a justice ; all that does concern My essence in this world, and a great part Of the other['s] bliss, lives in your breath.
King. What intends the duchess?
Duch. That will instruct you, sir. [gives the
letter."] — Columbo has, Upon some better choice, or discontent, Set my poor soul at freedom.
King. 'Tis his character. [Reads.
Madam, I easily discharge all my pretensions to your love and person ; I leave you to your own choice ; and in what you have obliged yourself to me, resume a power to cancel, if you please.
COLUMBO. This is strange !
Duch. Now do an act to make Your chronicle belov'd and read for ever.
King. Express yourself.
Duch. Since by divine infusion, — For 'tis no art could force the general to This change, second this justice, and bestow The. heart you would have given from me, by Your strict commands to love Columbo, where 'Twas meant by heaven ; and let your breath return Whom you divorced, Alvarez, mine.
Lords. This is But justice, sir.
King. It was decreed above ;
Sc. III.] THE CARDINAL. 299
And since Colombo has releas'd his interest, Which we had wrought him, not without some force Upon your will, I give you your own wishes : Receive your own Alvarez. When you please To celebrate your nuptial, I invite Myself yotir guest.
Duch. Eternal blessings crown you !
Omnes. And every joy your marriage!
[As the King is going out, he meets the Car- dinal; they converse together.
Alv. I know not whether I shall wonder most, Or joy to meet this happiness. .
Duch. Now the king
Hath planted us, me thinks we grow already, And twist our loving souls, above the wrath Of thunder to divide us.
Alv. Ha ! the Cardinal
Has met the king ! I do not like this conference ; He looks with anger this way. I expect A tempest.
Duch. Take no notice of his presence ; Leave me to meet, and answer it. If the king Be firm in's royal word, I fear no lightning. Expect me in the garden.
Alv. I obey ; But fear a shipwreck on the coast. [Exit.
Car. Madam.
Duch. My lord.
Car. The king speaks of a letter that has brought A riddle inft.
Duch. 'Tis easy to interpret.
Car. From my nephew? May I deserve the favour ? [Duch. gives him the letter.
Duch. He looks as though his eyes would fire
the paper.
They are a pair of burning glasses, and His envious blood doth give them flame.
Car. What lethargy
300 THE CARDINAL. [Act II.
Could thus unspirit him ? I am all wonder. [Aside.
Do not believe, madam,
But that Columbo's love is yet more sacred
To honour and yourself, than thus to forfeit
What I have heard him call the glorious wreath
To all his merits, given him by the kin#,
From whom he took you with more pride than ever
He came from victory : his kisses hang
Yet panting on your lips ; and he but now
Exchanged religious farewell to return,
But with more triumph, to be your's.
Duck. My lord,
You do believe your nephew's hand was not Surpris'd or strain'd to this?
Car. Strange arts and windings in the world !
most dark And subtle progresses ! Who brought this letter ?
Duch. I enquired not his name ; I thought it not Considerable 3 to take such narrow knowledge.
Car. Desert and honour urg'd it here, nor can I blame you to be angry ; yet his person Oblig'd you should have given a nobler pause, Before you made your faith and change so violent, From his known worth, into the arms of one, However fashioned to your amorous wish, Not equal to his cheapest fame, with all The gloss of blood and merit.
Duch. This comparison, My good lord Cardinal, 1 cannot think Flows from an even justice ; it betrays You partial where your blood runs.
Car. 1 fear, madam,
J / thought it not
Considerable, &c.] i. e. I thought the letter not of sufficient importance to induce me to enquire narrowly after the bearer of it. This is not much in Shirley's usual way ; and, indeed, it. is remarkable that there are more harsh and awkward construc- tions in this drama than in any ten of the rest.
Sc. III.] THE CARDINAL. 301
Your own takes too much license, and will soon Fall to the censure of unruly tongues. Because Alvarez has a softer cheek, Can, like a woman, trim his wanton hair, Spend half a day with looking in the glass, To find a posture to present himself, And bring more effeminacy than man, Or honour, to your bed, must he supplant him ? Take heed, the common murmur, when it catches The scent of a lost fame —
Duch. My fame, lord Cardinal ? It stands upon an innocence as clear As the devotions you pay to heaven. I shall not urge, my lord, your soft indulgence At my next shrift.
Car. You are a fine court lady !
Duch. And you should be a reverend churchman.
Car. One,
That if you have not thrown off modesty, Would counsel you to leave Alvarez.
Duch. 'Cause
You dare do worse than marriage, must not I Be admitted what the church and law allows me ?
Car. Insolent ! Then you dare marry him ?
Duch. Dare !
Let your contracted flame and malice, with Columbo's rage, higher than that, meet us When we approach the holy place, clasp'd hand In hand, we'll break through all your force, and fix Our sacred vows together there.
Car. I knew
When, with as chaste a brow, you promis'd fair To another. You are no dissembling lady !
Duch. Would all your actions had no falser lights About them !
Car. Ha!
Duch. The people would not talk, and curse so loud.
302 THE CARDINAL. [Act II.
Car. I'll have you chid into a blush for this.
Duch. Begin at home, great man, there's cause
enough :
You turn the wrong end of the perspective Upon your crimes, to drive them to a far And lesser sight ; but let your eyes look right, What giants would your pride and surfeit seem ! How gross your avarice, eating up whole families ! How vast are your corruptions and abuse Of the king's ear ! at which you hang a pendant, Not to adorn, but ulcerate, while the honest Nobility, like pictures in the arras, Serve only for court ornament. If they speak, 'Tis when you set their tongues, which you wind up, Like clocks, to strike at the just hour you please. Leave, leave., my lord, these usurpations, And be what you were meant, a man to cure, Not let in, agues to religion : Look on the church's wounds.
Car. You dare presume, In your rude spleen to me, to abuse the church?
Duch. Alas, you give false aim, my lord ; 'tis your Ambition and scarlet sins, that rob Her altar of the glory, and leave wougds Upon her brow ; which fetches grief and paleness Into her cheeks, making her troubled bosom Pant with her groans, and shroud her holy blushes Within your reverend purples.
Car. Will you now take breath 1
Duch. In hope, my lord, you will behold yourself In a true glass, and see those unjust acts That so deform you, and by timely cure Prevent a shame, before the short-hair'd men4 Do crowd and call for justice ; I take leave. [Exit.
4 — before the short -hair'd men
Do crowd and call for justice] I am not sure that I under- stand this : but it seems as if the poet was again thinking of England, and meant to warn the prelates not to push their
Sc. III.'] THE CARDINAL. 303
Car. This woman has a spirit, that may rise To tame the devil's : there's no dealing with Her angry tongue ; 'tis action and revenge Must calm her fury. Were Columbo here, I could resolve ; but letters shall be sent To th' army, which may wake him into sense Of his rash folly, or direct his spirit Some way to snatch his honour from this flame: All great men know the soul of life is fame. [Exit.
ACT III. SCENE I.
An Apartment in the Palace. Enter VALERIA and CELINDA.
Vol. I did not think, Celinda, when I prais'd Alvarez to the duchess, that things thus Would come about. What does your ladyship Think of Columbo now ? It staggers all The court, he should forsake his mistress; I Am lost with wonder yet.
Cel. 'Tis very strange,
Without a spell ; but there's a fate in love ; — I like him ne'er the worse.
Enter two Lords.
1 Lord. Nothing but marriages and triumph now! VaL What new access of joy makes you, my
lord, So pleasant?
pretensions too far, lest they should exasperate the Puritans, (short-hair" d menj and unite them in a body against them. In 1641, (when this play was written,) this hint might not perhaps be very generous or charitable ; but it might, unfortunately, be offered with impunity.
304 THE CARDINAL. [Act III.
1 Lord. There's a packet come to court Makes the king merry ; we are all concerned in't. Col urn bo hath given the enemy a great
And glorious defeat, and is already Preparing to march home.
Cel. He thriv'd the better for my prayers.
2 Lord. You have been His great admirer, madam.
1 Lord. The king longs To see him.
Val. This news exalts the Cardinal.
Enter CARDINAL.
1 Lord. He's here !
He appears with discontent ; the marriage With count d'Alvarez hath a bitter taste, A nd's not worn off his palate : but let us leave him.
Fa/ } We H to lhe duchess- [Exeunt.
Car. He has not won so much upon the Arragon As he has lost at home ; and his neglect Of what my studies had contrived, to add More lustre to our family by the access Of the great duchess' fortune, cools his triumph, And makes me wild.
Enter HERNANDO.
Her. My good lord Cardinal !
Car. You made complaint to the king about your general ?
Her. Not a complaint, my lord ; I did but
satisfy Some questions o' the king's.
Car. You see he thrives Without your personal valour or advice, Most grave and learned in the wars.
Her. My lord, I envy not h'is fortune.
.&.!.] THE CARDINAL. 305
Car. Tis above
Your malice, and your noise not worth his anger; 'Tis barking 'gainst the moon.
Her. More temper would Become that habit.
Car. The military thing would shew some spleen. I'll blow an army of such wasps about The world, — Go look your sting you left i' the camp, sir.
Enter King and Lords.
Her. The king ! — This may be one day counted for. [Exit.
King. All things conspire, my lord, to make
you fortunate. Your nephew's glory —
Car. 'T was your cause and justice Made him victorious ; had he been so valiant At home, he had had another conquest to Invite, and bid her welcome to new wars.
King. You must be reconciled to providence. My lord,
I heard you had a controversy with The duchess ; I will have you friends.
Car. I am not angry.
King. For my sake, then, You shall be pleas'd, and with me grace the mar-
riage.—
A churchman must shew charity ; and shine With first example : she's a woman.
Car. You shall prescribe in all things, sir. You
cannot
Accuse my love, if I still wish my nephew Had been so happy, to be constant to Your own, and my election : yet my brain Cannot reach how this comes about ; I know My nephew lov'd her with a near affection.
VOL. v. X
306 THE CARDINAL.
Re-enter HERNANDO.
King. He'll give you fair account at his return.— Colonel, your letters may be spar'd ; the general Has finish'd, and is coming home. {Exit.
Her. I am g1adon't,sir. — My good lord Cardinal, 'Tis not impossible but some man provok'd, May have a precious mind to cut your throat.
Car. You shall command me, noble Colonel ; I know you will not fail to be at the wedding.
Her. 'Tis not Columbo that is married, sir.
Car. Go teach the postures of the pike and
musket ;
Then drill your myrmidons into a ditch, Where starve, and stink in pickle. — You shall find Me reasonable ; you see the king expects me. {Exit.
Her. So does the devil. —
Some desperate hand may help you on your journey.
{Exit.
SCENE II.
A Room in the Duchess's House.
Enter ANTONIO and four Servants, with masques, dresses, Sfc.
Ant. Here, this ; ay, this will fit your part: you shall wear the slashes, because you are a soldier. Here's for the blue mute.1
1 Serv. This doublet will never fit me ; pox on't ! are these breeches good enough for a prince too ? Pedro plays but a lord, and he has two laces more in a seam.
Ant. You must consider Pedro is a foolish lord ; he may wear what lace he please.
1 Here's for the blue mute.'] i. e. for the mute who was to take the servant's part. Servants were in that age distin- guished by the badges of their respective masters ; but their general livery was blue.
Sc. II.] THE CARDINAL. 307
2 Serv. Does my beard fit my clothes well,
gentlemen? Ant. Pox o' your beard !
3 Serv. That will fright away the hair.
1 Serv. This fellow plays but a mute, and he is so troublesome, and talks.
3 Serv. Master Secretary might have let Jaques play the soldier ; he has a black patch already.
2 Serv. By your favour, master Secretary, 1 was asked who writ this play for us 1
Ant. For us ? Why, art thou any more than a blue mute?
2 Serv. And, by my troth, I said, I thought it was all your own.
Ant. Away, you coxcomb !
4 Serv. Dost think he has no more wit than to write a comedy ? My lady's chaplain made the play, though he is content, for the honour and trouble of the business, to be seen in't.
Enter fifth Servant.
5 Serv. Did any body see my head, gentlemen ? 'twas here but now. — I shall have never a head to play my part in.
Ant. Is thy head gone? 'tis well thy part was not in't. Look, look about ; has not Jaques it?
4 Serv. His head ? 'twill not come on upon my shoulders. [Exit 5 Serv.
Ant. Make haste, gentlemen, I'll see whether the king has supp'd. Look every man to his wardrobe and his part. {Exit.
2 Serv. Is he gone ? In my mind, a masque had been fitter for a marriage.
4 Serv. Why, mute? There was no time for't, and the scenes are troublesome.
2 Serv. Haifa score deal tack'd together in the clouds, what's that? a throne, to come down and
X2
308 THE CARDINAL. [Actlll.
dance ; all the properties have been paid forty times over, and are in the court stock : — but the secretary must have a play, to shew his wit.
4 Serv. Did not I tell thee 'twas the chaplain's? Hold your tongue, mute.
1 Serv. Under the rose, and would this cloth of silver doublet might never come off again, if there be any more plot than you see in the back of my hand.
2 Serv. You talk of a plot ! I'll not give this for the best poet's plot in the world, an if it be not well carried.
4 Serv. Well said, mute.
3 Serv. Ha, ha ! Pedro, since he put on his doublet, has repeated but three lines, and he has broke five buttons.
2 Serv. I know not ; but by this false beard, and here's hair enough to hang a reasonable honest ni iu i, I do not remember, to say, a strong line indeed in the whole comedy, but when the chambermaid kisses the captain.
3 Serv. Excellent, mute !
Re-enter 5 Servant.
5 Serv. They have almost supp'd, and I cannot find my head yet.
4 Serv. Play in thine own.
5 Serv. Thank you for that ! so I may have it made a property. If I have not a head found me, let master secretary play my part himself without it.
Re-enter ANTONIO.
Ant. Are you all ready, my masters? The king is coming through the gallery. Are the women dress'd ?
I Serv. Rogero wants a head.
Ant. Here, with a pox to you ! take mine. You a player! you a puppy-dog. Is the music ready?
Sc. II.] THE CARDINAL. 309
Enter Gentleman-Usher.
Gent. Gentlemen, it is my lady's pleasure that you expect till she call for you. There are a com- pany of cavaliers, in gallant equipage, newly alighted, have offered to present their Revels in honour of this Hymen ; and 'tis her grace's com- mand, that you be silent till their entertainment be over.
1 Serv. Gentlemen ?
2 Serv. Affronted ?
5 Serv. Master Secretary, there's your head again ; a man's a man. Have I broken my sleep, to study fifteen lines for an ambassador, and after that a constable, and is it come to this ?
Ant. Patience, gentlemen, be not so hot; 'tis but deferr'd, and the play may do well enough cold.
4 Serv. If it be not presented, the chaplain will have the greatest loss ; he loses his wits.
[Hautbois.
Ant. This music speaks the king upon entrance. Retire, retire, and grumble not.
[Exeunt all but Ant.
Enter King, Cardinal, ALVAREZ, Duchess, CE- LINDA, VALERIA, PLACENTIA, Lords, and HER- NANDO, and take their seats : then enter COLUMBO and Jive more, in rich habits, vizarded ; between every two a torch-bearer : they dance, and after beckon to ALVAREZ, as desirous to speak ivith him.
Alv. With me!
[They embrace and tchisper, and exeunt.
King. Do you know the masquers, madam ?
Duch. Not I, sir.
Car. There'sone, — but that my nephew isabroad, And has more soul than thus to jig upon Their hymeneal night, I should suspect 'Tvvere he. [Aside.
310 THE CARDINAL.
Duck. Where's my lord Alvarez?
King. Call in the bridegroom. [Recorders within.
Re-enter COLUMBO, followed by the five Masquers, bringing in the dead body of ALVAREZ in one of their habits, and having laid it down, exeunt, all but Columbo.
Duch. What mystery is this 1
Car. We want the bridegroom still.
King. Where is Alvarez ?
[Columbo points to the body ; they take off the mask and habit, and find Alvarez bleeding. Duch. Oh, 'tis my lord ! he's murder'd I King. Who durst commit this horrid act ? Coin. I, sir. [Tlirows off his disguise.
King. Columbo? Ha! Coin. Yes ; Columbo, that dares stay To Justify that act. Her. Most barbarous ! Duch. Oh, my dearest lord ! King. Our guard!
Enter Guard.
Seize on them all : this sight doth shake
All that is man within me. Poor Alvarez, Is this thy wedding day !
Duch. If you do think there is a heaven, or pains To punish such black crimes ij the other world, Let me have swift, and such exemplar justice, As shall become this great assassinate ; You will take off our faith else : and, if here Such innocence must bleed, and you look on, Poor men, that call you gods on earth, will doubt To obey your laws, nay, practise to be devils, As fearing, if such monstrous sins go on, The saints will not be safe in heaven.
Sc. II.] THE CARDINAL. 311
King. You shall, You shall have justice.
Car. Now to come off were brave. [Aside.
Enter Servant.
Serv. The masquers, sir, are fled ; their horse,
prepared
At gate, expected to receive them, where They quickly mounted : coming so like friends, None could suspect their haste, which is secur'd By advantage of the night.
Colu. I answer for them all ; 'tis stake enough For many lives : but if that poniard Had voice, it would convince they were but all Spectators of my act. And now, if you Will give your judgments leave, though at the first Face of this object your cool bloods were frighted, I can excuse this deed, and call it justice; An act, your honours, and your office, sir, Is bound to build a law upon, for others To imitate. 1 have but took his life, And punish'd her with mercy, who had both Conspir'd to kill the soul of all my fame. Read there ; and read an injury as deep In my dishonour, as the .devil knew A woman had capacity or malice To execute: read there, how you were cozen'd, sir, [Gives the Duchess's letter to the King. Your power affronted, and my faith ; her smiles, A juggling witchcraft to betray, and make My love her horse to stalk withal, and catch Her curled minion.
Car. Is it possible
The duchess could dissemble so, and forfeit Her modesty with you, and to us all? Yet I must pity her. My nephew has Been too severe ; though this affront would call A dying man from prayers, and turn him tiger ;
312 THE CARDINAL;
There being nothing dearer than our fame,
Which, if a common man, whose blood has no
Ingredient of honour, labour to
Preserve, a soldier (by his nearest tie
To glory) is, above all others, bound
To vindicate : — and yet it might have been
Less bloody.
Her. Charitable devil !
King, [reads.] I pray, my lord, release under your hand, what you dare challenge in my love or person, as a just forfeit to myself; this act will speak you honourable to my thoughts; and when you have conquered thus yourself, you may proceed to many victories, and after, with safety of your fame, visit again
the lost ROSAURA. To this your answer was a free resign *?
Colu. Flattered with great opinion of her faith, And my desert of her (with thought that she, Who seem'd to weep and chide my easy will To part with her, could not be guilty of A treason, or apostasy so soon, But rather meant this a device to make Me expedite the affairs of war,) I sent That paper, which her wickedness, not justice, Applied (what I meant trial,) tier divorce. I lov'd her so, I dare call heaven to witness, I knew not whether I lov'd most ; while she, With him, whose crimson penitence I provok'd,1 Conspir'd my everlasting infamy : Examine but the circumstance.
Car. Tis clear ; This match was made at home, before she sent
* whose crimson penitence I provok'd,'] That is, I sup- pose, whom 1 forced to repent in blood. This is exceedingly harsh, and unlike our poet ; as is the preceding line, in which Colombo calls heaven to witness that he knew not whether he loved that (heaven) or Rosaura most.
Sc. II.] THE CARDINAL. 313
That cunning writ, in hope to take him off, As knowing his impatient soul would scorn To own a blessing came on crutches to him. It was not well to raise his expectation, (Had you, sir, no affront?) to ruin him With so much scandal and contempt.
King. We have
Too plentiful a circumstance, to accuse You, madam, as the cause of your own sorrows ; But not without an accessary more Than young Alvarez.
Car. Any other instrument?
King. Yes; I am guilty, wjth herself, and don Columbo, though our acts look'd several ways, That thought a lover might so soon be ransora'd ; And did exceed the office of a king, To exercise dominion over hearts, That owe to the prerogative of heaven Their choice, or separation : you must, therefore, When you do kneel for justice and revenge, Madam, consider me a lateral agent In poor Alvarez' tragedy.
1 Lord. It was your love to don Columbo, sir. Her. So,so! the kingischarm'd. Do you observe,
How, to acquit Columbo, he would draw Himself into the plot. Heaven, is this justice ?
Car. Your judgment is divine in this.
King. And yet
Columbo cannot be secure, and we Just in his pardon, that durst make so great And insolent a breach of law and duty.
2 Lord. Ha ! will he turn again ? King. And should we leave
This guilt of blood to heaven, which cries, and
strikes
With loud appeals the palace of eternity ; Yet here is more to charge Columbo than Alvarez' blood, and bids me punish it, Or be no king.
314 THE CARDINAL. [Act III.
Her. Tis corae about, ray lords.
King. And if I should forgive His timeless death, I cannot the offence, That with such boldness struck at me. Has my Indulgence to your merits, which are great, Made me so cheap, your rage could meet no time Nor place for your revenge, but where my eyes Must be affrighted, and affronted with The bloody execution? This contempt Of majesty transcends ray power to pardon, And you shall feel my anger, sir.
Her. Thou shalt * Have one short prayer more for that.
Colu. Have I ,
I' the progress of my life, no actions To plead, deserving * * * * me up Against this ***** ceremony?3
Car. Contain yourself.
Colu. I must be dumb then. Where is honour, And gratitude of kings, when they forget Whose hand secur'd their greatness ? Take my
head off ;
Examine then which of your silken lords, As I have done, will throw himself on dangers ; Like to a floating island move in blood ; And where your great defence calls him to stand A bulwark, upon his bold breast to take In death, that you may live : — but soldiers are Your valiant fools, whom, when your own securities
3 To plead, deserving * * * * me up
Against this * * * * * * ceremony?] Here is a most hopeless passage. The old copy reads :
" No actions to plead me up deserving " Against this ceremony ?"
which is both corrupt and incomplete. What Columbo meant to saj was — Have I no actions to plead, deserving by their iwi- portance, to bear me up against this neglect or violation of court ceremony ? How the poet expressed this, it is impossible to say : all that remains therefore is to mark the oversight of the press by an occasional break.
Sc. II.] THE CARDINAL. 315
Are bleeding, you can cherish ; but when once Your state and nerves are knit, not thinking when To use their surgery again, you cast Them off, and let them hang in dusty armories, Or make it death to ask for pay.
King. No more ;
We thought to have put your victory and merits In balance with Alvarez' death, which, while Our mercy was to judge, had been your safety ; But the affront to us, made greater by This boldness to upbraid our royal bounty, Shall tame, or make you nothing.
Lord. Excellent!
Her. The Cardinal is not pleas'd.
Car. Humble yourself To the king.
Colu. And beg my life 1 Let cowards do't, That dare not die ; I'll rather have no head, Than owe it to his charity.
King. To the castle with him! —
[Columbo is led off by the Guard. Madam, I leave you to your grief, and what The king can recompense to your tears, or honour Of your dead lord, expect.
Ditch. This shews like justice. [Exeunt severally.
ACT IV. SCENE I.
An Apartment in the Palace.
Enter two Lords and HERNANDO.
1 Lord. This is the age of wonders.
2 Lord. Wonderous mischiefs !
Her. Among those guards, which some call
tutelar angels,
Whose office is to govern provinces, Is there not one will undertake Navarre ? Hath heaven forsook us quite ?
316 THE CARDINAL. [ActlV.
1 Lord. Columbo at large !
2 Lord. And graced now more than ever.
1 Lord. He was not pardon'd ; That word was prejudicial to his fame.
Her. But, as the murder done had been a dream, Vanish'd to memory, he's courted as Preserver of his country. With what chains Of magic, does this Cardinal hold the king?
2 Lord. What will you say, my lord, if they en-
chant
The duchess now, and by some impudent art, Advance a marriage to Columbo yet?
Her. Say!
I'll say no woman can be sav'd ; nor is It fit, indeed, any should pretend to heaven. After one such impiety in their sex : And yet my faith has been so stagger'd, since The king restored Columbo, I'll be now Of no religion.
1 Lord. 'Tis not possible
She can forgive the murder ; I observ'd Her tears.
Her. Why, so did I, my lord ; And if they be not honest, 'tis to be Half damn'd, to look upon a woman weeping. When do you think the Cardinal said his prayers ?
2 Lord. 1 know not.
Her. Heaven forgive my want of charity! But, if I were to kill him,4 he should have No time to pray ; his life could be no sacrifice, Unless his soul went too.
1 Lord. That were too much.
Her. When you mean to dispatch him, you may give
4 But, if I were to kill him, &c.] There have been frequent occasions to notice how familiar this horrible sentiment is to most of our old poets. It is somewhat peculiar, howerer, to Shirley, that he has the grace to feel its want of charity, and beg forgiveness for it.
Sc.l] THE CARDINAL. 317
Time for confession : they have injur'd me After another rate. 2 Lord. You are too passionate, cousin.
COLUMBO, Colonels, ALPHONSO, and Courtiers, pass over the stage.
Her. How the gay men do flutter, to congratu- late
His gaol delivery ! There's one honest man : What pity 'tis, a gallant fellow should Depend on knaves for his preferment !
1 Lord. Except this cruelty upon Alvarez, Columbo has no mighty stain upon him ; But for his uncle —
Her. If I had a son
Of twelve years old that would not fight with him, And stake his soul against his cardinal's cap, I would disinherit him. Time has took a lease But for three lives, I hope ; a fourth may see Honesty walk without a crutch.
2 Lord. This is But air and wildness.
Her. 1 will see the duchess.
5[1 Lord.] You may do well to comfort her ; we
must Attend the king.
Her. Your pleasures. \Exit.
Enter King and Cardinal.
1 Lord. A man of a brave soul.
2 Lord. The less his safety. — The king and Cardinal in consult !
King. Commend us to the duchess, and employ What language you think fit and powerful, To reconcile her to some peace. — My lords.
' The old copy gives this speech to Hernando : but there is no end to these mistakes.
318 THE CARDINAL. [ActlV.
Car. Sir, I possess all for your sacred uses.
[Exeunt.
SCENE II.
A Room in the Duchess's House. Enter ANTONIO and CELINDA.
Ant. Madam, you are the welcom'st lady living.
Cel. To whom, master Secretary?
Ant. If you have mercy To pardon so much boldness, I durst say, To me — I am a gentleman.
Cel. And handsome.
Ant. But my lady has Much wanted you.
Cel. Why, master Secretary?
Ant. You are the prettiest, —
Cel. So!
Ant. The wittiest,—
Cel. So!
Ant. The merriest lady i' the court.
Cel. And I was wish'd, to make the duchess pleasant?
Ant. She never had so deep a cause of sorrow ; Her chamber's but a coffin of a larger Volume, wherein she walks so like a ghost, 'T would make you pale to see her.
Cel. Tell her grace I attend here.
Ant. I shall most willingly. — A spirited lady ! would I had her in my closet ! She is excellent company among the lords. Sure she has an admirable treble. — Madam. [Exit.
Cel. I do suspect this fellow would be nibbling, Like some, whose narrow fortunes will not rise To wear things when the invention's rare and new ;
Sc. II.] THE CARDINAL. 319
But treading on the heel of pride, they hunt The fashion when 'tis crippled, like fell tyrants. I hope I am not old yet ; I had the honour To be saluted by our cardinal's nephew This morning : there's a man !
Re-enter ANTONIO.
Ant. 1 have prevail'd. Sweet madam, use what eloquence you can Upon her ; and if ever I be useful To your ladyship's service, your least breath com. mands me. \Exit.
Enter Duchess.
Duch. Madam, I come to ask you but one
question :
If you were in my state, my state of grief, I mean, an exile from all happiness Of this world, and almost of heaven, (for my Affliction is finding but despair,) What would you think of don Columbo?
Cel. Madam?
Duch. Whose bloody hand wrought all this
misery.
Would you not weep, as I do, and wish rather An everlasting spring of tears to drown Your sight, than let your eyes be curs'd to see The murderer again, and glorious? So careless of his sin, that he is made Fit for new parricide, even while his soul Is purpled o'er, and reeks with innocent blood ? But do not, do not answer me ; I know You have so great a spirit, (which I want, The horror of his fact surprising all My faculties,) you would not let him live : But I, poor I, must suffer more. There's not One little star in heaven will look on me,
320 THE CARDINAL.
Unless to choose me out the mark, on whom It may shoot down some angry influence.
Enter PLACENTIA.
Pla. Madam, here's don Columbo says he must Speak with your grace.
JJuch. But he must not, I charge you.
[Exit Pla.
None else wait? — Is this well done, To triumph in his tyranny? — Speak, madam, Speak but your conscience.
Enter COLUMBO and ANTONIO.
Ant. Sir, you must not see her.
Colu. Not see her? Were she cabled up above The search of bullet or of fire, were she Within her grave, and that the toughest mine That ever nature teem'd and groan'd withal, I would force some way to see her. — Do not fear I come to court you, madam ; you are not worth The humblest of my kinder thoughts. I come To shew the man you have provok'd, and lost, And tell you what remains of my revenge. — Live, but never presume again to marry ; I'll kill the next at the altar, and quench all The smiling tapers with his blood : if after, You dare provoke the priest and heaven so much, To take another, in thy bed 111 cut him from Thy warm embrace, and throw his heart to ravens.
Cel. This will appear an unexampled cruelty.
Colu. Your pardon, madam ; rage, and my
revenge,
Not perfect, took away my eyes. You are A noble lady, this not worth your eye-beam ; One of so slight a making, and so thin, An autumn leaf is of too great a value To play, which shall be soonest lost i' the air.
Sc. II] THE CARDINAL. 321
Be pleas'd to own me by some name, in your Assurance, I despise to be receiv'd There ; let her witness that I call you mistress ; Honour me to make these pearls your carkanet.
[Gives her a necklace.
Cel. My lord, you are too humble in your thoughts.
Colu. There's no vexation too great to punish her. [Aside, and exit.
Ant. Now, madam.
Cel. Away, you saucy fellow ! — Madam, I Must be excus'd, if I do think more honourably Than you have cause, of this great lord.
Duch. Why, is not All woman kind concerned to hate what's impious?
Cel. For my part —
Duclt. Antonio, is this a woman I
Ant. I know not whether she be man or woman ; I should be nimble to find out the experiment. She look'd with less state when Columbo came.
Duch. Let me entreat your absence. I am cozen'd in her. — [Aside.
I took you for a modest, honest lady.
Cel. Madam, I scorn any accuser ; and Deducting the great title of a duchess, I shall not need one grain of your dear honour To make me full weight : if your grace be jealous, I can remove. [Exit.
Ant. She is gone.
Duch. Prithee remove My fears of her return [exit Ant.']— She is not
worth •
Considering ; my anger's mounted higher. He need not put in caution for my next Marriage. — Alvarez, I must come tothee, Thy virgin wife, and widow ; but not till I have paid those tragic duties to thy hearse
VOL. v. Y
322 THE CARDINAL. [Act IV.
Become my piety and love. But how 1 Who shall instruct a way ?
Enter PLACENTIA.
Pla. Madam, don Hernando much desires to speak with you.
Duch. Will not thy own discretion think I am Unfit for visit?
Pla. Please your grace, he brings Something, he says, imports your ear, and love Of the dead lord, Alvarez.
Duch. Then admit him. [Exit Pla.
Ke-enter PLACENTIA with HERNANDO.
Her. I would speak, madam, to yourself.
Duch. Your absence. [Exit Pla.
Her. I know not how your grace will censure so Much boldness, when you know the affairs I come for.
Duch. My servant has prepar'd me to receive it, If it concern my dead lord.
Her. Can you name So much of your Alvarez in a breath, Without one word of your revenge ? O, madam, I come to chide you, and repent my great Opinion of your virtue, that can walk, And spend so many hours in naked solitude ; As if you thought that no arrears were due To his death, when you had paid his funeral
charges,
Made your eyes red, and wet a handkerchief— I come to tell you, that I saw him bleed ; I, that can challenge nothing in his name And honour, saw his raurder'd body warm, And panting with the labour of his spirits,
Sc. II.] THE CARDINAL. 323
Till my amazed soul shrunk and hid itself: While barbarous Columbo grinning stood, And mock'd the weeping wounds. It is too much, That you should keep your heart alive so long After this spectacle, and riot revenge it.
Duch. You do not know the business of my
heart,
That censure me so rashly ; yet I thank you : And, if you be Alvarez' friend, dare tell Your confidence, that I despise my life, But know not how to use it in a service, To speak me his revenger : this will need No other proof, than that to you, who may Be sent with cunning to betray me, I Have made this bold confession. 1 so much Desire to sacrifice to that hovering ghost Columbo's life, that I am not ambitious To keep ray own two minutes after it.
Her. If you will call me coward, which is equal To think I am a traitor, I forgive it, For this brave resolution, which time, And all the destinies must aid. 1 beg That I may kiss your hand for this ; and may The soul of angry honour guide it —
Duch. Whither?
Her. To don Columbo's heart.
Duch. It is too weak, I fear, alone.
Her. Alone? are you in earnest? Why, will it
not
Be a dishonour to your justice, madam, Another arm should interpose ? But that It were a saucy act to mingle with you, I durst, nay, I am bound in the revenge Of him that's dead, (since the whole world has
interest
In every good man's loss,) to offer it : Dare you command me, madam ?
Duch. Not command ; Y2
324 THE CARDINAL. [ActlV.
But I should more than honour such a truth In man, that durst, against so mighty odds, Appear Alvarez' friend, and mine. The Cardinal —
Her. Is for the second course ; Columbo must Be first cut up ; his ghost must lead the dance : Let him die first.
Duck. But how?
Her. How ! with a sword ; and, if I under- take it,
I will not lose so much of my own honour, To kill him basely.
Duch. How shall I reward This infinite service ? Tis not modesty, While now my husband groans beneath his tomb, And calls me to his marble bed, to promise, What this great act might well deserve, myself, If you survive the victor; but if thus Alvarez' ashes be appeas'd, it must Deserve an honourable memory ; And though Columbo (as he had all power, And grasp'd the fates) has vow'd to kill the man That shall succeed Alvarez —
Her. Tyranny !
Duch. Yet, if ever
I entertain a thought of love hereafter, Hernando from the world shall challenge it ; Till when, my prayers and fortune shall wait on you.
Her. This is too mighty recompense.
Duch. Tis all just.
Her. If I outlive Columbo, I must not Expect security at home.
Duch. Thou canst
Not fly where all my fortunes, and my love Shall not attend to guard thee.
Her. If I die—
Duch. Thy memory
Sc. II.] THE CARDINAL. 325
Shall have a shrine, the next within my heart, To ray Alvarez.
Her. Once again your hand Your cause is so religious, you need not Strengthen it with your prayers ; trust it to me.
Re-enter PLACENTIA, with the Cardinal.
Pla. Madam, the Cardinal.
Duch. Will you appear?
Her. An he had all the horror of the devil Ill's face, I would not baulk him.
[He stares upon the Cardinal in his exit.
Car. What makes Hernando here ? I do not like They should consult ; 111 take no note, [aside.'} —
The king
Fairly *salutes your grace ; by whose command 1 am to tell you, though his will and actions lllimited, stoop not to satisfy The vulgar inquisition, he is Yet willing to retain a just opinion With those that are placed near him ; and although You look with nature's eye upon yourself, Which needs no perspective to reach, nor art Of any optic to make greater, what Your narrow sense applies an injury, (Oursejves still nearest to ourselves,) yet there's Another eye that looks abroad, and walks In search of reason, and the weight of things, With which, if you look on him, you will find His pardon to Columbo cannot be So much against his justice, as your erring Faith would persuade your anger.
Duch. Good, my lord,
Your phrase has too much landscape, and I cannot Distinguish, at this distance you present, The figure perfect ; but indeed my eyes
326 THE CARDINAL. [Act IV.
May pray your lordship find excuse, for tears Have almost made them blind.
Car. Fair peace restore them ! To bring the object nearer, the king says, He could not be severe to don Columbo Without injustice to his other merits, Which call more loud for their reward and honour, Than you for your revenge ; the kingdom made Happy by those ; you only, by the last, Unfortunate : — nor was it rational, I speak the king's own language, he should die For taking one man's breath, without whose va- lour None now had been alive without dishonour.
Dutch. In my poor understanding, 'tis the crown Of virtue to proceed in its own track, Not deviate from honour. If you acquit A man of murder, 'cause he has done brave Things in the war, you will bring down his valour To a crime, nay, to a bawd, if it secure A rape, and but teach those that deserve well, To sin with greater license : but dispute Is now too late, my lord ; 'tis done ; and you, By the good king, in tender of my sorrows, Sent to persuade me 'tis unreasonable That justice should repair me.
Car. You mistake ;
For if Coin m bo's death could make Alvarez fAJlive, the king had given him up to law, Your bleeding sacrifice; but when his life Was but another treasure thrown away, To obey a clamorous statute, it was wisdom To himself, and common safety, to take off This killing edge of law, and keep Columbo To recompense the crime by noble acts, And sorrow, that in time might draw your pity.
Duch. This is a greater tyranny than that Columbo exercis'd; he kill'd mv lord ;
Sc. II.] THE CARDINAL. 827
And you have not the charity to let Me think it worth a punishment.
Car. To that,
In my own name, I answer : I condemn. And urge the bloody guilt against my nephew ; Twas violent and cruel, a black deed ; A deed, whose memory doth make me shudder ; An act, that did betray a tyrannous nature, Which he took up in war, the school of vengeance ; And though the king's compassion spare him here, Unless his heart Weep itself out in penitent tears, —
Duch. This sounds As you were now a good man.
Car. Does your grace
Think I have conscience to allow the murder ! Although, when it was done, I did obey The stream of nature, as he was my kinsman, To plead he might not pay his forfeit life, Could I do less for one so near my blood] Consider, madam, and be charitable ; Let not this wild injustice make me lose The character I bear, and reverend habit. To make you full acquainted with ray innocence, I challenge here my soul, and heaven to witness, If I had any thought, or knowledge with My nephew's plot, or person, when he came, Under the smooth pretence of friend, to violate Your hospitable laws, and do that act, Whose frequent mention draws this tear, a whirl- wind Snatch me to endless flames !
Duch. I must believe, And ask your grace's pardon. I confess 1 have not lov'd you since Alvarez' death., Though we were reconciled.
Car. I do not blame Your jealousy, nor any zeal you had
328 THE CARDINAL. [ActlV.
To prosecute revenge against me, -madam, As 1 then stood suspected, nor can yet Implore your mercy to Columbo. All I have to say is, to retain rny first Opinion and credit with your grace ; Which you may think I urge not out of fear, Or ends upon you, (since, 1 thank the king, I stand firm on the base of royal favour,) But for your own sake, and to shew I have Compassion of your sufferings.
Ditch. You have clear'd
A doubt, my lord ; and by this fair remonstrance, Given my sorrow so much truce, to think That we may meet again, and yet be friends. — But be not angry, if I still remember By whom Alvarez died, and weep, and wake Another justice with my prayers.
Car. All thoughts That may advance a better peace dwell with you !
Duch. How would this cozening statesman bribe
my faith
With flatteries, to think him innocent ! No ; if his nephew die, this Cardinal must not Be long-liv'd. All the prayers of a wrong'd widow Make firm Hernando's sword ! and my own hand Shall have some glory in the next revenge. 1 will pretend my brain with grief distracted, It may gain easy credit ; and beside The taking off examination For great Columbo's death, it makes what act I do in that believ'd want of my reason, Appear no crime, but my defence. — Look down, Soul of my lord, from thy eternal shade, And unto all thy blest companions boast, Thy duchess' busy to revenge thy ghost ! [Exit.
&.IIL] THE CARDINAL. 329
SCENE HI.
A retired Spot without the City.
Enter on one side, COLUMBO and ALPHONSO ; on the other, HERNANDO and a Colonel.
Coin. Hernando, now I love thee, and do half Repent the affront my passion threw upon thee.
Her. You will not be too prodigal o' your peni- tence.
Colu. This makes good thy nobility of birth ; Thou may'st be worth my anger and my sword, If thou dost execute as daringly As thou provok'st a quarrel. I did think Thy soul a starveling, or asleep.
Her. You'll find it
Active enough to keep your spirit waking ; Which to exasperate, for yet I think It is not high enough to meet my rage — Do you smile?
Colu. This noise is worth it. — Gentlemen, I'm sorry this great soldier has engag'd Your travail ; all his business is to talk.
Her. A little of your lordship's patience, You shall have other sport, and swords that will Be as nimble 'bout your heart as you can wish. Tis pity more than our two single lives Should be at stake.
Colon. Make that no scruple, sir.
Her. To him then that survives, if fate allow That difference, I speak, that he may tell The world, I came not hither on slight anger, But to revenge my honour, stain'd and trampled on By this proud man ; when general, he commanded My absence from the field.
330 THE CARDINAL. [Act IV.
Colu. I do remember, And I will give your soul now a discharge.
Her. I come
To meet it, if your courage be so fortunate. But there is more than my own injury You must account for, sir, if my sword prosper ; Whose point and every edge is made more keen With young Alvarez' blood, in which I had A noble interest. Does not that sin benumb Thy arteries, and turn the guilty flowings To trembling jelly in thy veins ? Canst hear Me name that murder, and thy spirits not Struck into air, as thou wert shot by some Engine from heaven ?
Colu. You are the duchess* champion ! Thou hast given me a quarrel now. I grieve It is determined all must fight, and I Shall lose much honour in his fall.
Her. That duchess,
(Whom but to mention with thy breath is sacrilege,) An orphan of thy making, and condemned By thee to eternal solitude, I come To vindicate ; and while 1 am killing thee, By virtue of her prayers sent up for justice, At the same time, in heaven lam pardon'd for't.
Colu. I cannot hear the bravo.
Her. Two words more,
And take your chance. Before you all, I must Pronounce that noble lady without knowledge, Or thought of what I undertake for her. Poor soul ! she's now at her devotions, Busy with heaven, and wearing out the earth With her stiff knees, and bribing her good angel With treasures of her eyes, to tell her lord Howr much she longs to see him. My attempt Needs no commission from her; were 1 A stranger in Navarre, the inborn right Of every gentleman to Alvarez' loss
Sc. III.] THE CARDINAL. 331
Is reason to engage their swords and lives Against the common enemy of virtue.
Colu. Now have you finish'd'? I have an instru- ment
Shall cure this noise, and fly up to thy tongue, To murder all thy words.
Her. One little knot Of phlegm, that clogs my stomach, and I have
done : —
You have an uncle, call'd a Cardinal, Would he were lurking now about thy heart, That the same wounds might reach you both, and
send
Your reeling souls together ! Now have at you. Alph. We must not, sir, be idle.
[Tliey fight ; Alph. is slain. Her. What think you now of praying? Colu. Time enough. [He kills Hernandos second. Commend me to my friend ; the scales are even: I would be merciful, and give you time Now to consider of the other world ; You'll find your soul benighted presently. Her. I'll find my way i' the dark.
[They fight, and close ; Columbo gels both the swords j andHernando takes up the second's weapon.
Colu. A stumble's dangerous. Now ask thy life. — Ha !
Her. I despise to wear it, A gift from any but the first bestower.
Colu. I scorn a base advantage. — [Columbo throws away one of the swords ; they fight ; Hernando wounds Columbo.']— Ha ! Her. 1 am now Out of your debt.
Colu. Thou hast done't, and 1 forgive thee. Give me thy hand ; when shall we meet again ? Her. Never, I hope.
332 THE CARDINAL. [ActlV.
Colu. I feel life ebb apace : yet I'll look upwards, And shew ray face to heaven. [Dies.
Her. The matter's done ; I must not stay to bury him. [Exit.
ACT V. SCENE I.
A Garden. Enter two Lords.
1 Lord. Columbo's death doth much afflict the
king.
2 Lord. I thought the Cardinal would have lost
his wits
At first, for's nephew ; it drowns all the talk Of the others that were slain.
1 Lord. We are friends.
I do suspect Hernando had some interest, And knew how their wounds came.
2 Lord. His flight confirms it,
For whom the Cardinal has spread his nets.
1 Lord. He is not so weak to trust himself at
home To his enemy's gripe.
2 Lord. All strikes not me so much. As that the duchess, most oppressed lady, Should be distracted, and before Columbo Was slain.
1 Lord. But that the Cardinal should be made Her guardian, is to me above that wonder.
2 Lord. So it pleas'd the king ; and she, with
that small stock
Of reason left her, is so kind and smooth Upon him.
&.I.] THE CARDINAL. 833
1 Lord. She's turn'd a child again : a madness, That would have made her brain and blood boil
high,
In which distemper she might have wrought something, —
2 Lord. Had been to purpose.
1 Lord. The Cardinal is cunning ; and howe'er His brow does smile, he does suspect Hernando Took fire from her, and waits a time to punish it.
2 Lord. But what a subject of disgrace and mirth Hath poor Celinda made herself by pride,
In her belief Columbo was her servant!
Her head hath stoop'd much since he died, and she
Almost ridiculous at court.
Enter Cardinal, ANTONELLI, and Servant.
1 Lord. The Cardinal Is come into the garden, now —
Car. Walk oft'.— [Exeunt Lords.
It troubles me the duchess, by her loss Of brain, is now beneath my great revenge. She is not capable to feel my anger, Which, like to unregarded thunder spent In woods, and lightning aim'd at senseless trees, Must idly fall, and hurt her not, not to That sense her guilt deserves: a fatal stroke, Without the knowledge for what crime, to fright
her, When she takes leave, and make her tug with
death,
Until her soul sweat, is a pigeon's torment, And she is sent a babe to the other world. Columbo's death will not be satisfied, And I but wound her with a two-edg'd feather; I must do* more : I have all opportunity, (She by the king now made my charge,) but she's So ranch a turtle, I shall lose by killing her,
334 THE CARDINAL. {Act V.
Perhaps do her a pleasure and preferment ; That must not be.
Enter C BLIND A with a parchment.
Anton, [stopping her.~\ — Is not this she, that
would be thought to have been Columbo's mistress ? — Madam, his grace is private, And would not be disturbed ; you may displease him.
Cel. What will your worship wager that he shall Be pleas'd again before we part?
Anton. I'll lay this diamond, madam, 'gainst a
kiss, And trust yourself to keep the stakes.
Cel. 'Tis done. [Comes forward.
Anton. I have long had an appetite to this lady ; But the lords keep her up so high— this toy May bring her on.
Car. This interruption tastes not of good man- ners.
Cel. But where necessity, my lord, compels The boldness may meet pardon, and when you Have found my purpose, I may less appear Unmannerly.
Car. To the business.
Cel. It did please
Your nephew, sir, before his death, to credit me With so much honourable favour, I Am come to tender to his near'st of blood. Yourself, what does remain a debt to him. Not to delay your grace with circumstance, That deed, if you accept, makes you my heir Of no contemptible estate. — This way [He reads. Is only left to tie up scurril tongues And saucy men, that since Columbo's death Venture to libel on ray pride and folly ; His greatness, and this gift, which I enjoy
Sc. I.] THE CARDINAL. 335
Still for my life, (beyond which term a kingdom's Nothing,) will curb the giddy spleens of men That live on impudent rhyme, and railing at Each wandering fame they catch. [Aside.
Car. Madam, this bounty Will bind my gratitude, and care to serve you. Cel. I am your grace's servant. Car. Antonelli! — [Whispers.
And when this noble lady visits me, Let her not wait.
Cel. What think you, my officious sir? His
grace
Is pleas'd, you may conjecture : I may keep Your gem ; the kiss was never your's. Anton. Sweet madam — Cel. Talk if you dare; you know I must not
wait; And so, farewell for this time. [Exit.
Car. *Tis in rny^brain already, and it forms Apace — good, excellent, revenge, and pleasant! She's now within my talons : 'tis too cheap A satisfaction for Col um bo's death, Only to kill her by soft charm or force. I'll rifle first her darling chastity ; It will be after time enough to poison her, And she to the world be thought her own de- stroyer.
As I will frame the circumstance, this night All may befinish'd : for the colonel, Her agent in my nephew's death, (whom I Disturb'd at counsel with her,) I may reach him Hereafter, and be master of his fate. We starve our conscience when we thrive in state.
[Exeunt.
336 THE CARDINAL. [ActV.
SCENE II.
A Room in the Duchess's House. Enter ANTONIO and PLACENTIA.
Ant. Placentia, we two are only left Of [all] my lady's servants ; let us be true To her, and one another ; and be sure, When we are at praters, to curse the Cardinal.
Pla. I pity my sweet lady.
Ant. 1 pity her too, but am a little angry ; She might have found another time to lose Her wits.
Pla. That I were a man !
Ant. What would'st thou do, Placentia?
Pla. I would revenge my lady.
Ant. 'Tis better, being a woman ; thou may'st do Things that may prosper better, and the fruit Be thy own another day.
Pla. Your wit still loves To play the wanton.
Ant. 'Tis a sad time, Placentia ; Some pleasure would do well : the truth is, I Am weary of my life, and I would have One fit of mirth before I leave the world.
Pla. Do not you blush to talk thus wildly?
Ant. 'Tis good manners To be a little mad after my lady ; But I have done. Who is with her now ?
Pla. Madam Valeria.
Ant. NotCelinda? There's a lady for my hu- mour !
A pretty book of flesh and blood, and well Bound up, in a fair letter too. Would I Had her with all the errata I
Sc. II.] THE CARDINAL, 337
Pla. She has not An honourable fame.
Ant. Her fame ! that's nothing ; A little stain ; — her wealth will fetch again The colour, and bring honour into her cheeks As fresh ; —
If she were mine, and I had her exchequer, I know the way to make her honest ; Honest to the touch, the test, and the last trial.
Pla. How, prithee ? «
^Ant. Why,
First I would marry her, that's a verb material ; Then I would print her with an index Expurgatorius; a table drawn Of her court heresies ; and when she's read, Cum privilegio, who dares call her whore ?
Pla. I'll leave you, if you talk thus.
Ant. I have done ;
Placentia, thou may'st be better company After another progress : and now tell me, Didst ever hear of such a patient madness As my lady is possess'd with ? She has rav'd But twice : — an she would fright the Cardinal, Or at a supper if she did but poison him, It were a phrensy I could bear withal. She calls him her dear governor. —
Enter HERNANDO disguised, with a letter.
Pla. Who is this?
Her. Her secretary ! — Sir, Here is a letter, if it may have so Much happiness to kiss her grace's hand.
Ant. From whom ?
Her. That's not in your commission, sir, To ask, or mine to satisfy ; she will want No understanding when she reads.
Ant. Alas ! VOL. v. Z
338 THE CARDINAL. [ActV.
Under your favour, sir, you are mistaken ; Her grace did never more want understanding.
Her. How ?
Ant. Have you not heard? her skull is broken,
sir, And many pieces taken out ; she's mad.
Her. The sad fame of her distraction Has too much truth, it seems.
Pla. If please you, sir, To expect awhile, I will present the letter.
Her. Pray do.— [Exit Pla.
How long has she been thus distemper <1, sir?
Ant. Before the Cardinal came to govern here, Who, for that reason, by the king was made Her guardian. We are now at his devotion.
Her. A lamb given up to a tiger! May diseases Soon eat him through his heart !
Ant. Your pardon, sir. I love that voice ; I know it too a little. Are not you — be not angry, noble sir, I can with ease be ignorant again, And think you are another man ; but if You be that valiant gentleman they call —
Her. Whom? what?
Ant. That kill'd — I would not name him, if I
thought You were not pleas'd to be that very gentleman.
Her. Am I betray'd?
Ant. The devil shall not Betray you here : kill me, and 1 will take - My death you are the noble colonel. We are all bound to you for the general's death, Valiant Hejnando ! When my lady knows You are here, I hope 'twill fetch her wits again. But do not talk too loud ; we are not all Honest i' the house ; some are the Cardinal's creatures.
Her. Thou wert faithful to thy lady. I am glad
&.H.] THE CARDINAL. 339
'Tis night. But tell me how the churchman uses The duchess?
Enter ANTONELLI.
Ant. He carries angels in his tongue and face,
but I
Suspect his heart ; this is one of his spawns. — Signior Antonelli.
Anton. Honest Antonio !
Ant. And how, and how— a friend of mine —
where is The Cardinal's grace ?
Her. That will be never answer'd. [Aside. Anton. He means to sup here with the duchess. Ant. Will he? Anton. We'll have the charming bottles at my
chamber.
Bring that gentleman ; we'll be mighty merry. Her. 1 may disturb your jollity. [Aside.
Anton. Farewell, sweet — [Exit.
Ant. Dear Antonelli ! — A round pox confound
you ! This is court rhetoric at the back-stairs.
Enter PLACENTIA.
Pla. Do you know this gentleman ?
Ant. Not I.
Pla. My lady presently dismiss'd Valeria, And bade me bring him to her bed-chamber.
Ant. The gentleman has an honest face.
Pla. Her words
Fell from her with some evenness and joy. — Her grace desires your presence.
Her. I'll attend her. [JEwfc with Pla.
Ant. 1 would this soldier had the Cardinal Upon a promontory, with what a spring
Z 2
340 THE CARDINAL. [ActV.
The churchman would leap down ! it were a spec- tacle
Most rare, to see him topple from the precipice, And souse in the salt water with a noise To stun the fishes ; and if he fell into A net, what wonder would the simple sea-gulls Have, to draw up the o'ergrown lobster, So ready boil'd ! He shall have my good wishes. This colonel's coming may be lucky ; I Will be sure none shall interrupt them.
Enter CELINDA.
Cel. Is Her grace at opportunity?
Ant. No, sweet madam ; She is asleep, her gentlewoman says.
Cel. My business is but visit. I'll expect.
Ant. That must not be, although I like your company.
Cel. You are grown rich, master Secretary.
Ant. I, madam? Alas!
Cel. I hear you are upon another purchase.
Ant. I upon a purchase !
Cel. If you want any sum—
Ant. If I could purchase your sweet favour, madam.
Cel. You shall command me, and my fortune, sir.
Ant. How's this? [Aside.
Cel. I have observ'd you, sir, a staid And prudent gentleman — and I shall want —
Ant. Not me?
Cel. A father for some infant : he has credit I' the world. I am not the first cast lady Has married a secretary. [Aside.
Ant. Shall I wait upon you ?
Cel. Whither?
Ant. Any whither.
Sc.IL] THE CARDINAL. 341
Cel. 1 may chance lead you then—
Ant. I shall be honour'd to obey. My blood Is up, and in this humour I'm for anything.
Cel Well, sir, I'll try your manhood.
Ant. Tis my happiness ; You cannot please me better.
Cel. This was struck T the opportunity. {Aside, and exit.
Ant I am made for ever. \Exit, folio wing her.
SCENE III.
Another Room in the Same. Enter HERNANDO and Duchess.
Her. Dear madam, do not weep. Duck. You're very welcome ; I have done ; I will not shed a tear more Till I meet Alvarez, then 111 weep for joy. He was a fine young gentleman, and sung sweetly ; An you had heard him but the night before We were married, you would have sworn he had
been
A swan, and sung his own sad epitaph. But we'll talk o' the Cardinal.
Her. Would his death
Might ransom your fair sense ! he should not live To triumph in the loss. Beshrew my manhood, But I begin to melt.
Duch. I pray, sir, tell me, For I can understand, although they say 1 have lost my wits ; but they are safe enough, And I shall have them when the Cardinal dies ; Who had a letter from his nephew, loo, Since he was slain. Her. From whence ?
342 THE CARDINAL. [Act V.
Duch. I know not where he is. But in some
bower
Within a garden he is making chaplets, And means to send me one ; but I'll not take it ; I have flowers enough, I thank him, while I live.
Her. But do you love your governor ?
Duch. Yes, but I'll never marry him ; I am
promis'd Already.
Her. To whom, madam ?
Duch. Do not you
Blush when you ask me that? must not you be My husband? I know why, but that's a secret. Indeed, if you believe me, I do love No man alive so well as you : the Cardinal Shall never know't ; he'll kill us both ; and yet He says he loves me dearly, and has promis'd To make me well again ; but I'm afraid, One time or other, he will give me poison.
Her. Prevent him, madam, and take nothing from him.
Duch. Why, do you think 'twill hurt me ?
Her. It will kill you
Duch. I shall but die, and meet my dear-lov'd
lord, Whom, when I have kiss'd, Til come again, and
work
A bracelet of my hair for you to carry him, When you are going to heaven ; the poesy shall Be my own name, in little tears, that I Will weep next winter, which congeal'd i' the frost, Will shew like seed-pearl. You'll deliver it? I know he'll love, and wear it for my sake.
Her. She is quite lost.
Duch. Pray give me, sir, your pardon : I know I talk not wisely ; but if you had The burthen of my sorrow, you would miss Sometimes your better reason. Now I'm well ;
&.IIL] THE CARDINAL 343
What will you do when the Cardinal comes ? He must not see you for the world.
Her. He shall not ; I'll take my leave before he come.
Duch. Nay, stay ;
I shall have no friend left me when you go. He will but sup ; he shall not stay to lie with me ; I have the picture of my lord abed ; Three are too much this weather.
Enter PLACENTIA.
Pla. Madam, the Cardinal.
Her. He shall sup with the devil.
Duch. I dare not stay ; The red cock will be angry. I'll come again.
[Exeunt Duch. and Pla.
Her. This sorrow is no fable. Now I find My curiosity is sadly satisfied. — Ha! if the ducheas in her strangled wits Let fall words to betray me to the Cardinal, The panther will not leap more fierce to meet His prey, when a long want of food hath parch'd His starved maw, than he to print his rage, And tear my heart-strings. Every thing is fatal ; And yet she talk'd sometimes with chain of sense, And said she lov'd me. Ha ! they come not yet. I have a sword about me, and I left My own security to visit death. Yet 1 may pause a little, and consider Which way does lead me to't most honourably. Does not the chamber that I walk in tremble ? What will become of her, and me, and all The world in one small hour? I do not think Ever to see the day again ; the wings Of night spread o'er me like a sable hearse-cloth ; The stars are all close mourners too ; but I Must not alone to the cold silent grave,
344 THE CARDINAL. \_ActV.
I must not. — If them canst, Alvarez, open
That ebon curtain, and behold the man,
When the world's justice fails, shall right thy
ashes,
And feed their thirst with blood ! thy duchess is Almost a ghost already, and doth wear Her body like an useless upper garment, The trim and fashion of it lost. — Ha !
Re-enter PLACENTIA.
Pla. You need not doubt me, sir. — My lady
prays
You would not think it long; she in my ear Commanded me to tell you, that when last She drank, she had happy wishes to your health.
Her. And did the Cardinal pledge it?
Pla. He was not Invited to't, nor must he know you are here.
Her. What do they talk of, prithee?
Pla. His grace is very pleasant [A lute is heard. And kind to her ; but her returns are after The sad condition of her sense, sometimes Unjointed.
ner. They have music.
Pla. A lute, only,
His grace prepar'd ; they say, the best of Italy, That waits upon ray lord.
Her. He thinks the duchess Is stung with a tarantula.
Pla. Your pardon ; My duty is expected. [Exit.
Her. Gentle lady ! — A voice too ?
SONG ii'ithin.
S. Come, my Daphne, come away, We do waste the crystal day ; 'TisStrephon calls. D. What icould my love ?
Sc. III.] THE CARDINAL 845
S. Come, follow to the myrtle grove, Where Venus shall prepare New chapletsfor thy hair. D. Were I shut up within a tree,
fd rend my bark to follow thee. S. My shepherdess, make haste,
The minutes slide too fast. D. In those cooler shades will /,
Blind as Cupid, kiss thine eye. S. In thy perfumed bosom then Til stray ; In such warm mow icho would not lose
his way ?
Chor. We'll laugh, and leave the world behind, And gods themselves that see, Shall envy thee and me,
But never find Such joys, uhen they embrace a deity.
If at this distance I distinguish, 'tis not Church music ; and the air's wanton, and no anthem Sung to't, but some strange ode of love and kisses. What should this mean?— Ha! he is coming hither. [Draics his sword.
I am betray'd ; he marches in her hand. I'll trust a little more ; mute as the arras, My sword and I here.
[Conceals himself behind the arras.
Enter Cardinal, Duchess, ANTONELLI, and Atten- dants.
Car. Wait you in the first chamber, and let none Presume to interrupt us. [exeunt Ant. and Att."] —
She is pleasant ; Now for some art, to poison all her innocence.
Duch. I do not like the Cardinal's humour; he Little suspects what guest is in my chamber.
Car. Now, madam, you are safe. [Embraces her.
Duch. How means your lordship ?
346 THE CARDINAL. [ActV
Car. Safe in my arms, sweet duchess.
Duch. Do not hurt me.
Car. Not for the treasures of the world ! You
are
My pretty charge. Had I as many lives As I have careful thoughts to do you service, I should think all a happy forfeit, to Delight your grace one minute ; 'tis a heaven To see you smile.
Duch. What kindness call you this ?
Car. It cannot want a name while you preserve So plentiful a sweetness ; it is love.
Duch. Of me? How shall I know't, my lord?
Car. By this, and this, swift messengers to
whisper Our hearts to one another. [Kisses her.
Duch. Pray do you come a wooing ?
Car. Yes, sweet madam ; You cannot be so cruel to deny me.
Duch. What? my lord.
Car. Another kiss.
Duch. Can you
Dispense with this, my lord 1 — Alas, I fear Hernando is asleep, or vanish' d from me. [Aside.
Car. I have mock'd my blood into a flame ; and
what
My angry soul had form'd for my revenge, Is now the object of my amorous sense. I have took a strong enchantment from her lips, And fear 1 shall forgive Columbo's death, If she consent to my embrace, [aside.']— ComCj madam.
Duch. Whither? my lord.
Car. But to your bed or couch, Where, if you will be kind, and but allow Yourself a knowledge, love, whose shape and rap- tures Wise poets have but glorified in dreams,
Sc. III.] THE CARDINAL. 347
Shall make your chamber his eternal palace ; And with such active and essental streams Of new delights glide o'er your bosom, you Shall wonder to what unknown world you are By some blestchangetranslated. Why do you pause, And look so wild ? Will you deny your governor ?
Duck. How came you by that cloven foot?
Car. Your fancy
Would turn a traitor to your happiness. I am your friend ; you must be kind.
Duch. Unhand me, Or I'll cry out a rape.
Car. You will not, sure ?
Duch. I have been cozen 'd with Hernando's
shadow ; Here's none but heaven to hear me. — Help ! a rape !
Car. Are you so good at understanding? then, I must use other argument.
[He seizes her. Hernando rushes from the arras.
Her. Go to, Cardinal. {Strikes him ; exit Duch.
Car. Hernando? Murder! treason! help!
Her. An army shall not rescue thee. Your blood Is much inflam'd ; I have brought a lancet with me Shall open your hot veins, and cool your fever. — To vex your parting soul, it was the same Engine that pierced * Columbo's heart.
Car. Help ! murder! [Stabs him.
Enter ANTONELLI and Servants.
Anton. Some ring the bell, 'twill raise the court ; My lord is murder'd ! Tis Hernando.
[The bell rings. Her. I'll make you all some sport. — [stabs him-
self.'] — So ; now we are even. Where is the duchess? I would take my leave Of her, and then bequeath my curse among: you.
[He falls.
1 That pierced Columbo's heart.'] The old copy reads pinc'd.
348 THE CARDINAL. [ActV.
Enter King, Duchess, VALERIA, Lords, and Guard. King. How come these bloody objects'? Her. With a trick my sword found out. I hope
he's paid.
1 Lord. 1 hope so too.— »A surgeon For my lord Cardinal ! King. Hernando? Duch. Justice! oh, justice, sir, against a
ravisher !
Her. Sir, I have done you service. King. A bloody service. Her. 'Tis pure scarlet.
Enter Surgeon.
Car. After such care to perfect n\y revenge, Thus banded out o' the world by a woman's plot !
[Aside.
Her. I have preserved the duchess from a rape. Good night to me, and all the world for ever ! [Dies.
King. So impious !
Duch. 'Tis most true ; Alvarez' blood Is now reveng'd ; I find my brain return, And every straggling sense repairing home.
Car. I have deserv'd you should turn from me, sir, My life hath been prodigiously wicked ; My blood is now the kingdom's balm. Oh, sir, I have abus'd your ear, your trust, your people, And my own sacred office ; ray conscience Feels now the sting. Oh, shew your charity, And with your pardon, like a cool soft gale, Fan my poor sweating soul, that wanders through Unhabitable climes, and parched deserts. — But I am lost, if the great world forgive me, Unless I find your mercy for u crime You know not, madam, yet, against your life, I must confess, more than my black intents Upon your honour ; you're already poison'd.
&.IIL] THE CARDINAL. 349
•-- ^
King. By whom ?
Car. By me.
In the reveng-e I ow'd Columbo's loss ; With your last meat was mix'd a poison, that By subtle, and by sure degrees,, must let In death.
King. Look to the duchess, our physicians !
Car. Stay ;
I will deserve her mercy, though I cannot Call back the deed. In proof of my repentance, If the last breath of a now dying man May gain your charity and belief, receive This ivory box ; in it an antidote, 'Bove that they boast the great magistral medicine : That powder, mix'd withTwine, by a most rare And quick access to the heart, will fortify it Against the rage of the most nimble poison. I am not worthy to present her with it. Oh, take it, and preserve her innocent life. ^
1 Lord, Strange, he should have a good thing in such readiness.
Car. 'Tis that, which in my jealousy and state, Trusting to false predictions of my birth, That I should die by poison, I preserv'd • For my own safety ; wonder not, I made That my companion was to be my tefuge.
Enter Servant, icith a bowl of wine.
1 Lord. Here is some touch of grace.
Car. In greater proof of my pure thoughts, I take This first, and with my dying breath confirm My penitence ; it may benefit her life, But not my wounds. Oh, hasten to preserve her ; And though I merit not her pardon, let not Her fair soul be divorced.
\Tlie Duchess takes the bowl and drinks.
King. This is some charity ; may it prosper, madam !
350 THE CARDINAL. [Act V.
Val. How does your grace ?
Duch. And must I owe my life to him, whose
death
Was my ambition? Take this free acknowledgment; I had intent, this night, with my own hand To be Alvarez* justicer.
King. You were mad, And thought past apprehension of revenge.
Duch. That shape I did usurp, great sir, to give My art more freedom and defence ; but when Hernando came to visit me, I thought I might defer my execution ; Which his own rage supplied without my guilt, And when his lust grew high, met with his blood.
1 Lord. The Cardinal smiles.
Car. Now my revenge has met With you, my nimble duchess ! I have took A shape to give my act more freedom too, * And now I am sure she's poison'd with that dose I gave her last.
King. Thou'rt npt so horrid.
Duck. Ha ! some cordial.
Car. Alas, no preservative Hath wings to overtake it ; were her heart Lock'd in a quarry it would search, and kill Before the aids.can reach it. I am sure You shall not now laugh at me.
King. How came you by that poison ?
Car. I prepared it,
Resolving, when I had enjoy'd her, which The colonel prevented, by some art To make her take it, and by death conclude My last revenge. You have the fatal story.
King. This is so great a wickedness, it will Exceed belief.
1 I have took a shape to give my act more freedom foo,] i. e. I, like you, have assumed a feigned character, (i. e. that of a peni- tent.) Shape is the technical word for a stage-dress, a disguise.
&.HL] THE CARDINAL. 351
Car. I knew I could not live.
Surg. Your wounds, sir, were not desperate.
Car. Not mortal ? Ha ! were they not mortal ?
Surg. If I have skill in surgery.
Car. Then I have caught myself in my own engine.
2 Lord. It was your fate, you said, to die by poison.
Car. That was my own prediction, to abuse Your faith ; no human art can now resist it : I feel it knocking at the seat of life ; It must come in ; I have wreck'd all my own, To try your charities : now it would be rare, — If you but waft me with a little prayer ; My wings that flag may catch the wind ; but 'tis In vain, the mist is risen, and there's none To steer my wand'ring bark [Dies.
1 Lord. He's dead. King. With him
Die all deceived trust.
2 Lord. This was a strange impiety. King. When men
Of gifts and sacred function once decline From virtue, their ill deeds transcend example. Duch. The minute's come that I must take my
leave too.
Your hand, great sir ; and though you be a king, We may exchange forgiveness. Heaven forgive
Ly°u»]
And all the world! I come, I come, Alvarez [Dies. King. Dispose their bodies for becoming funeral. How much are kings abus'd by those they take To royal grace, whom, when they cherish most By nice indulgence, they do often arm Against themselves ! from whence this maxim
springs :
None have more need of perspectives than kings.
[Exeunt.
352 THE CARDINAL.
EPILOGUE.
[Within.] Master Pollard ! where's master Pol- lard, for the epilogue ?
[He is thrust upon the stage, and falls. Epi. [rising.] / am coming to you, gentlemen;
the poet
Has help'd me thus far on my way, but Fll Be even with him : the play is a tragedy, The first that ever he composed for us, Wherein he thinks he has done prettily,
Enter Servant.
And I am sensible. — I prithee look,
Is nothing out of joint ? has he broke nothing ?
Serv. No, sir, I hope.
Epi. Yes, he has broke his epilogue all to pieces. Canst thou put it together again f
Serv. Not I, sir.
Epi. Nor I ; prithee be gone, [exit Serv.] —
Hum ! — Master poet, I have a teeming mind to be revenged. — You may assist, and not be seen in't now, If you please, gentlemen, for I do know He listens to the issue of his cause; But blister not your hands in his applause ; Your private smile, your nod, or hem ! to tell My fellows that you like the business well ; And when, without a clap, you go away, III drink a small-beer health to his second day ; And break his heart, or make him sicear and rage, He'll write no more for the unhappy stage. But that's too much; so we should lose; faith, shew it, And if you like his play, 'tis as well he knew it.
THE
SISTERS.
VOL. V.
Aa
THE SISTERS.") This Play was licensed in April 1642, and is the last of Shirley's in the List of the Master of the Revels, whose duties were now drawing to a close. It was not printed till 1652, when it appeared among the six dramas then pub- lished by Humphrey Moseley in an 8vo. volume. The title of the old copy is : " The Sisters, a Comedie, as it was acted at the private House in Black Fryers, Written by James Shirley ."
While I was engaged on this Play, the Librarian of Sion College obligingly informed me that they possessed a copy of the Sisters, with ms. variations of an early period. On examin- ing the Play, however, it turned out to be merely the prompter's copy. The book appears to have belonged to Davenant's Com- pany, in Drury Lane, and must, from the names, have been in use about 1666. It is piteously scrawled; and there are cha- racters dispersed along the margin, interiore nota, and such as the initiated alone probably understand. The omissions are not very numerous ; and, such as they are, evince no want of judgment. The reader may be curious to see the names of the performers ; they are therefore collected from the margin, in the original spelling :
Mr. Lydall. Mr. Haines.
Mr. Littlewood. Mr. Graydon.
Mr. Cart rite. Mr. Barton.
Mr. Hughes. Mr. Beeston.
Mr. Watson. Mr. Rives. Mr. Harris.
Mrs. Ellen. Mrs. Yockney.
Mrs. Nepp. Mrs. Hughes.
Almost the whole of these were eminent performers, and are mentioned both by old Downes, and the excellent author of historia Histrionica Haines is often called by his familiar name Joe, in the margin. It appears that he played Piperollo. Mrs. Ellen subsequently played a part on a more conspicuous thea- tre; and Mrs. Hughes, (who, I believe, was the first female performer on our ttage, and undoubtedly an actress of great merit,) became the mistress of Prince Rupert, who purchased for her the mansion become somewhat notorious in our days by the name of Brandenburgh House ; and which George Selvvyn, its former owner, in reference to its last two inhabitants, pro- leptically called La Trappe.
1 am unable to appropriate the names to the characters — for they appear in the margin long before they enter, and are set down as hints to the prompter to urge them to make ready.
TO THE
MOST WORTHILY HONOURED,
WILLIAM PAULET, ESQUIRE.
SIR,
COMPOSITIONS of this nature have heretofore been graced by the acceptance and protection of the greatest no- bility', (I may say princes ;) but in this age, when the scene of dramatic poetry is changed into a wilderness, it is hard to find a patron to a legitimate muse. Many that were wont to encourage poems, are fallen beneath the proverbialwant of the composers, and by their ruins are only at leisure to take measure with their eye of what they have been* Some extinguished with their fortune, have this happiness to be out of capacity of further shipwreck* while their sad remains peep out of the sea, and may serve [as~\ naked marks, and caution to other navigators'" malignant stars the while! In this unequal condition of the time, give me leave to congra- tulate my own felicity, that hath directed this comedy unto you, who ivearyour nobleness with more security than titles, and a name that continues bright and impassible among the constellations in our sphere of English honour. I dare not detain you, Sir, ivith too long a preface ; if you please to entertain these papers, as the modest tender of my service, I shall receive it as a most kind influence upon me, and you will engage to all your commands the humble heart of,
Sir,
your faithful honour er9
JAMES SHIRLEY.
* There is something singularly affecting in this well ex- pressed and striking picture of the times. Jn what follows there is some obscurity, and, not improbably, some trifling omission. The old copy places a comma after navigators, instead of an apostrophe.
Aa2
PROLOGUE
AT THE BLACK-FRIARS.
Does this look like a Term f I cannot tell;
Ottr poet thinks the whole town is not well,
Has took some physic lately, and, for fear
Of catching cold, dares not salute this air.*
But there's another reason, I hear say,
London is gone to York : 'tis a great way.
Pox <j the proverb, and of him, say I,
That look'd oer Lincoln ! 'cause that was, must tre
Be now translated north ? I could rail, too,
On Gammar Shipton's ghost, but 'twill not do ;
The town will still be flecking, and a play,
Though ne'er so new, will starve the second day.
Upon these very hard conditions.
Our poet will not purchase many toicns ;
And if you leave us too, we cannot thrive :
r II promise neither play nor poet live
Till ye come back. Think what you do ; you see
What audiences we have, what company
<c To Shakspeare comes, whose mirth did once
beguile <c Dull hours, and, buskin'd, made even sorrow
smile ;
1 In this prologue, as given among Shirley's Poems, these lines follow here :
llo\v like a wither'd and forsaken place
Hath this appearM ! no influence, no grace
From any star, as nature meant to be
At loss, and bhew here dwelt vacuity :
AS Time, with age turn'd child, had got a fall,
Broken a limb, and lost his usual
Motion, which strikes a lameness in the year ;
We are to have but little summer here.
But now I guess the reason,—
<f So lovely were the wounds, that men would say
" They could endure the bleeding a whole day."
He has but few friends lately ; think o that ;
He II come no more; and others have his fate. Fletcher, the Muses' darling, and choice love
' Of Phoebus, the delight of every grove ;
Upon whose head the laurel grew, whose wit " Was the times wonder, and example, yet:"
Tis within memory, trees did not throng, ds once the story said, to Orpheus' song.
( Johnson, t' whose name wise art did bow, and wit
< Is only justified by honouring it;
1 To hear whose touch, how would the learned
quire " With silence stoop! and when he took his lyre,
c Apollo dropp'd his lute, asham'd to see " A rival to the god of harmony."9 You do forsake him too. We must deplore This fate, for we do knoiv it by our door. How must this author fear then, with his guilt Of weakness, to thrive here, inhere late was spilt The Muses9 own blood; if, being but a few, You not conspire, and meet more frequent too ? There are not now nine Muses, and you may Be kind to ours ; if not, he bad me say, Though while you careless kill the rest, and laugh, Yet he may live to write your epitaph.
* The lines between inverted commas are all marked in the old copy, as quotations ; they had probably been used in some other house, and before some other piece, for which they were but too well adapted by the calamitous state of the country. In the early part of this fatal year, the King left London for York ; and though the town did not go with him, yet the con- sternation was too recent and too great to allow of such resort to places of mere amusement.
DRAMATIS PERSON/E.
Farnese, prince of Parma.
Contarini, a nobleman.
Antonio, uncle to the Sisters.
Frapolo, the chief bandit.
Castruchio,"!
Longino,
Strozzo, > bandits.
Rangino,
Pacheco, J
Lucio, Paulina's steward.
Giovanni, 7 DP
Stephanie., } °ervant$ to Paulma-
Fabio, a countryman.
Piperollo, son to Fabio.
Countrymen.
Citizens.
Petitioners.
A Scholar.
Pulcheria, disguised, under the name of Vergerio, and attending on Contarini.
Francescina, Angellina's maid. Morulla, wife to Fabio. Two Gentlewomen. Waiting- women y 8fc.
SCENE, Paulina's Castle, and Antonio's House, in the duchy o/1 Parma, and the adjacent Country.
THE
SISTERS.
ACT I. SCENE I.
A woody Country.
Enter FRAPOLO, LONGING, PACHECO, RANGONE, STROZZO, and other Banditti*
Lon. I like not this last Proclamation.
Ran. Nor I.
Stroz. It startled me to read it ^ Fra. Did you read? Tis a fault, Strozzo, a fault ! I'll have no thief hereafter learn to read.— Threaten us with long-winded proclamations! We are safe within our woods and territories, And are above his edicts. Have not we A commonwealth among ourselves, ye Tripolites]1 A commonwealth ? a kingdom ! and 1 am The prince of Qui-va-las, your sovereign thief, And you are all tny subjects.
Lon. We are.
Fra. And is there one so base to change com- plexion,
Because we are proscribed ? I'll be no prince : I have a grudging on me to be honest, And leave you to the fear of hemp, and hunger.
• ye Tripolites.] The sense is plain and good;
and yet I suspect we should read, ye Frapolites.
360 THE SISTERS. [Act I.
Have I by stratagems so oft preserv'd you, When you were howling out your lives, and led Away in dog-couples by rusty officers'? And are you struck dead with a paper pellet? Your blood turn'd whey, because there is reward Promis'd to bring our heads in ? I renounce you, Land rats —
Pac. Most excellent Frapolo ! they recant ; A little human frailty may be pardon'd.
Fra. Shall thieves, whose predecessors have
been kings, And conquer' d worlds, be factious and schisma-
tical !
I speak not for myself, but your own sakes, Whose impudence, and art in valiant theft Hereafter, may advance you to be princes. Lon. You have confirm'd us. Fra. You were best be rogues, and one betray
another,
To get the base reward. Do, lose your honour ; Live branded, and be pointed at i' the street, There goes a rascal that betray'd his prince, Or cut the throat of his comrade ! This will Shew well i' the chronicles! — Stand fair, you
varlets !
Because we cannot tell whose heart is treacherous, I will examine all your physnomies ; And in whose face soever I can find A scandalous line, or look that may beget Suspicion of a man that will not die An honourable rebel, and defy The laws, I'll shoot him presently.
Lon. Hang laws,
And those that make them ! conscience is a varlet. Stand fair, and shew complexions.
Fra. Ye are all valiant, honest thievelanders ; And I will be your prince again, and die with you As boldly, as they dare invent—
sc. I.] THE SISTERS. 631
Ran Hang cowards !
Fra. I will riot have you thieves among your- selves.
Lord. How's that, and please your excellence ! not thieves ?
Fra. Not thieves one to another ; but religious- There is a kind of a religion We outlaws must observe.
Sir os. I never knew
Religion yet, and 'twill be now unseasonable To learn.
Ran. I'll be of no religion.
Fra. Who was so bold To say he would have no religion ? What man is he hopes to be drunk, to whore, To 'scape the wheels, the gallies., and the gallows, And be of no religion?
Lon. He says right.
Fra. Ye shall be of what religion I please.
Pac. 'Tis fit we should ; Frapolo is our monarch.
Fra. And yet I must consider of some fit one, That shall become our trade and constitutions. Hem! silence!
Stroz. Nay, nay, prince, take time to think on 't ; There is no haste.
Fra. I have thought, And you shall be no pagans, Jews, nor Christians.
Lon. What then?
Fra. But every man shall be of all religions.
Ran. I like that well.
Fra. Why should I clog your conscience, or
confine it?
Do but obey your prince, and I pronounce You shall live grandees, till the state fangs catch
you;
And when you come unto the wheel or gibbet, Bid fico for the world ! and go out martyrs.
Omnes. A prince! a prince!
362 THE SISTERS. [Actl.
Fra. Provided, that no thief Makes a confession at his death, or ' His tribe, or make a shew of penitence To make the butter-women melt, and draw Compassion from the toothless musty rabble : This will exclude the benefit of that canon Declares you martyrs for the cause. —
[A noise within. Scout, and discover ! [Exit Lm.
Ran. 'Tis a howling voice.
Fra. What cry was that?
Re-enter LONGINO.
Lon. Of one, whose pocket has given up the
ghost,
And with the fear his body should do so, He howls o' this fashion. [They put on vizards.
Fra. Bring him to our presence. [Exit Lon.
Re-enter LONGINO with PIPEROLLO.
Pip. Gentlemen, 'tis very cold. I beseech you, do not strip my skin off; you are not sure 1 shall
fo to a fire when I go out of this world ; and yet as am. I confess I shall yield very little bura'd.
Lon. Knock out his brains.
Pac. Pistol him.
Stroz. Cut's throat.
Pip. Gentlemen, hear me, — lam very sorry I had no greater sum — but if you please To reprieve a poor wretch, I may do you service ; And if you knew my inclination, You would not be too cruel.
Fra. To what are you inclin'd, sirrah?
Pip. I have been commended for a dexterity At your felonious trade ; for, gentlemen,
&.I.] THE SISTERS. 363
I have been a pickpocket of a child, and have These many years been thought a pretty house- thief.
Marry, I have not yet breeding abroad With such deserving men ; but I shall be Most glad to learn : and if you please t' accept Me to your tribe, I have intelligence Where money lies hid, and very few spirits To guard it
Fra. Be confident, and be cover'd. Lon. Let him be one of us. Fra. Be brief. Where is this treasure? Pip. I have an old father and mother, gentlemen, please you bestow a visit upon them ; they have some goldfinches, having new sold a piece of land was given them by the rich Vincenzo, father to the famous, proud Paulina, now his heir.
Lon. The glorious daughter Of old Vincenzo? She's a Semiramis.
Pip. The very same ; if you would visit her, I am acquainted with the house.
Fra. We'll take a time to think on her. To
the point; What ready money has your father, sirrah?
Pip. 'Tis but two days ago since he receiv'd Six hundred pistolets. I can direct To a cedar chest, where the fine sum lies dormant Stroz. What servants has your father ? P'tp. Alas, none ; they are miserable hinds, And make me all the drudge ; you need not fear The court-du-guard. If you please [to] let me go an honest thief s part, and furnish me with a devil's complexion, to hide my own, I will conduct you. Fra. A very honest fellow ! Pip. I do not love to be ingrateful where I'm kindly us'd ; my heart is honest Fra. Is he thy own father ?
364 THE SISTERS. [Actl.
Pip. My own father and mother, sir ; the cause Would not be so natural else, and meritorious.
Fra. A precious rogue ! Fit him instantly With a disguise, and let him have that face The devil wore in the last anti-masque.
Pip. It cannot be too ugly, sir, to fright them.
Fra. But if he fail in any circumstance —
Pip. 'Tis not far off; I know the nearest way.
Fra. Or give the least suspicion to betray you, Be sure you cut his throat.
Lon. We shall.
Pip. I thank you, sir. Do you think I'll be a traitor ?
Lon. Come first along with us.
[Exeunt Pip. and Lon.
Fra. You heard this fellow name the proud
Paulina? Her chests are worth the rifling.
Pac. The castle is impregnable she lives in.
Fra. Was that spoke like an understanding
thief,
A true bandit? How I do blush for thee ! Was not the orchard of Hesperides, Watch'd by a fierce and flaming dragon, robb'd? Shall we despair to reach her golden apples ? Well make discovery of the place and persons. Put it to fate, let stars do what they please ; Mercury is a stronger thief than Hercules.
[Exeunt.
&.I.] THE SISTERS. 865
SCENE II.
A Room in Paulina's Castle. Enter GIOVANNI and STEPHANIO.
Giov. What a brave time have we had since our old master died !
Steph. Though he were a gallant man, his daughter makes his memory burn dim, and (com- pared to her) he lived but like a hermit in a cell. She is all magnificent, a Berenice; every hair of her head worth stellifying.
Giov. But my lady, for so we must call her, may be of kin to Lucifer for pride. How many brave gentlemen hath she despis'd, when once their blister of love broke out, and they made offer of
marriage !
ANTONIO and ANGELLINA pass over the stage.
Steph. Here is her sister, Angellina, a virgin Of another constitution ; their two natures As different are, as the two poles. Our mistress Cannot be so tyrannically proud, As she is sweet, and humble.
Giov. That's the reason Her father left her only as much as would Commend her to a nunnery.
Steph. Her uncle dotes upon her.
Giov. He does love her.
Sieph. Tis an old, blunt, brave fellow ; but he
has
Quite lost our gallant lady's good opinion ; He is out of grace.
Giov. Because he would correct her insolence, who, oblig'd by her father to the care of her gover-
366 THE SISTERS. [Actl.
nor, will not tie up his counsel ; which he enforces sometimes so passionately, it is a sport to hear her contempt of his gravity.
Enter PAULINA and ANTONIO.
He has met my lady ; I see a quarrel in their looks already; let us withdraw behind that lobby; we may hear, and laugh securely.
[Exeunt Steph. and Giov.
Ant. How long have you been speechless? Am
not I
Your uncle ? Why do you look so scurvily ! 1 do not think you are a* princess yet, And therefore take the boldness to salute you, Without the ceremony of petitioners, That haunt your ladyship's charity ; or, if You thought me despicable, your sister has Deserv'd your smile.
Pan. It may be so.
Ant. Buffoons,
That make an idol of you, and can pawn Their souls to flatter you, should be entertain'd, And courted to your vanity ! I blush for you. Will nothing bring you into sense of honour Or modesty?— I have done.
Pan. It will become you ; You do presume too much.
Ant. Presume ! Why, are Not you Paulina? Am not I Antonio, Your uncle? Speak.
Pan. I do remember, sir, I calPd you so, while you preserv'd your wits ; And may acknowledge you again, upon Sober conditions, and your senses perfect.
Ant. Sober conditions ! Am I drunk, gipsey? — What flesh is able to forbear !— Dost hear ? Thou hast drunk a devil.
&.H.] THE SISTERS. 387
Pan. I did not see him in my cup.
Ant. And he has swelled thee to this monstrous
pride,
More than thy sex besides. Ifthou goest on At this rate, thou wilt make Lucifer an ape • He must be thy disciple. Pan. The old thing raves. Ant. Thing! vvhatthincr? thank heaven thou art A woman ! 1 would beat thee into a poultice,— When didst thou say thy prayers? Pan. You know I keep a chaplain. Ant- Thy soul wants desperate lancing; There's an eternal ulcer in thy heart, Ten witches cannot suck it dry; there is A bath of poison in thee. Pau. I shall pity him. A posset, and to bed with him ! his head Does want the benefit of sleep. How wild The good man looks ! Ant. Thou art—
Pau. The mistress of this castle, as I take it, Without your legacy.
Ant. I could rail upon the dead for't. Dost thou not fear thy father's ghost should haunt
thee ?
Pau. I never think upon him ; and it was His providence to leave me an estate, To keep me from those melancholy fancies ; And I will have you, my capricious uncle, Know, in the circle of these my dominions, I will have no competitor.
Ant. Dominions !
Was ever such an insolence ! Are not you Some queen conceal'd?
Pau. I am independent, and Sole regent here.
Ant. So, so ! Where's your nobility? They are to blame not to attend.
368 THE SISTERS. [Actl.
Pau. Who waits'?
Re-enter GIOVANNI and STEPHANIO.
Ant. But they do want white staves ; this is not state enough.
Pau. It shall be mended ; let them be reraem- ber'd. [Exeunt Giov. and Steph.
Ant. She's in earnest, [aside .] — And If I were worthy to advise you, madam, Your grace should be a little more reserved, And entertain none that did treat of marriage To your private conference, until they had In public received audience, like ambassadors.
Pau. I like the counsel well ; it shall be so : The next that comes shall find it, my good uncle.
Ant. She's incorrigible. — [Aside.
What if you commanded those that do attend Your person, to observe you on their knees Sometimes 1 they must be humble to your highness : I can forget my gray hairs, name, and blood, And teach your servants duty.
Pau. The example
Will edify the household ; and you may, By fair degrees, rise to our princely favour.
Enter Lucio.
Luc. Madam, The lord Contarini is arriv'd the castle, [Exit.
Pau. He comes a wooing to me. Let it be Your office, reverend uncle, to acquaint him, Our pleasure is to give him audience To-morrow in full state ; until when, uncle, Make it your care his entertainment be Such as becomes the greatness of his blood, And one, on whom the prince, we know, bestows His special grace.
Sc. II.] THE SISTERS. 869
Ant. Do you hear, sweet niece ? be not you
transported. This is no dream ; the man is no mock lord.
Pan. I'll be a princess here, as you directed. If he can humble himself to ceremony, Promise him honourable access, and freedom ; If the conditions please him not, he may Return, and leave our court. [Exit.
Ant. Is this in nature? Well, I'll follow her, And if she be not past all shame and sense, I will humble, or confound her. [Exit.
ACT II. SCENE I.
Fabio's Cottage.
Enter LONGING and STROZZO, with FABIO, and Mo- RULLA, bound.
MOT. Ah, sweet gentlemen! we are very poor, and have a great charge.
Stroz. We do come to ease you of your charge.
Fab. Pity my age.
Slroz. You must then pity our youth.
Enter PIPEROLLO, masked) with three bags.
Pip. Here! share and share like.
Mor. Alas ! we are undone.
Stroz. What shall we do with them?
Pip. If you have bound her hands and feet, you may try whether she be a witch or no ; there's a pond in the backside: if she swim, so! — For him-^-
Fab. Have some compassion, His our whole estate.
Lon. You have a son, a pious child, we hear.
Stroz. He will not let you want.
VOL. v. B b
370 THE SISTERS. {Act II.
MOT. Alas ! poor boy, he little thinks what we WiUi care and providence laid up for him Should thus be lost. O, pity, gentlemen!
Pip. Boh ! — Let's away.
Stroz. I begin to find a kind of a compunction; Let us be charitable thieves for once —
Lon. And return half: What say you ?
Pip. Not a gazet ; you are not such foolish
thieves. Part with present money ! part with my life, first.
Stroz. Not to your parents'?
Pip. We use them well, because we do not carry Their cows away ; there they have cheese and
butter :
Bread comes by nature, and they both can glean ; There's water in the well too : not a penny. If you will be so charitable, defalk From your own shares, mine is a just thief s part ; I look for thanks ; distribute your own alms : These things must be employ 'd to better uses. Is a father and mother considerable To ready money 1 Oh, fie ! — Boh !
Slroz. Then we must over-rule you.
{Trips up his heels.
Pip. Ah ! what do you mean ?
Stroz. Bawl and betray yourself at your own
peril ! We will be bold with your thiefs part. — Come
nearer.
Look you, good woman, [Gives her one of the bags. You shall not lose your thirds ; say you have met With honest thieves : this shall suffice at present, Which we but borrow neither ; that you may not Suspect our payment, you shall have security, This Lonest man bound for't , and so we leave you. {Lon. and Stroz. bind Pip. and exeunt.
Fab. 'Tis money !
&. I.] THE SISTERS. 371
Mor. And left one of their fellows bound.
Fab. Do we not dream, wife1? 1 dare not come near him.
Mor. They are gone ; I'll see his complexion. Who's this ? [Pulls off' his mask.
Fab. Our own son, Piperollo?
Pip. Pray, father, give me your blessing. Ah — mother, do not stone me to death with that money bag ; I am your son.
Mor. My son ! I know thee not.
Pip. A liar, you know, mother, is worse than a thief; do not destroy the hopes of your family. Alas! I was drawn in, and made a thief in my own defence ; they swore to cut my throat else. Do you think I had so little grace — Mor. Did they so? I'll try what I can do.
[Draws her knife.
Pip. Oh, my quibibles ! Sweet mother, re- member
You were a woman in your days, that knew What's what, and the true difference of things, lama man yet ; your forgiveness may Make me a true man. Libbing and hanging Are no helps to posterity ; I am Your own sweet flesh arid blood. — [They beat and kick him.] — Oh.
Mor. Kick him out of doors.
Pip. I thank you ; this correction May do me good. —
Gently, ah, gently ! Shall I not ask your blessing A twelvemonth hence ?
Both. Never.
Pip. I will not. My mother has a deadly lift with her leg.
Fab. Boh! you tadpole. [Exeunt Fab. and Mor.
Pip. I shall do no good o' this trade. Now to rav wits : this is no world to starve in.
[Exit. B b2
372 THE SISTERS. \Actll.
SCENE IF.
A State Room in the Castle.
Enter Lucio, GIOVANNI, and STEPHANIO, with white
slaves.
Luc. This is very fine ! Do not these staves
become us?
But will my lady be thus mad, and give The lord Contarini audience in such state? She takes upon her like a very princess.
Giov. But is't not strange her uncle should thus humour her?
Steph. He gave her the first hint, which she
pursues To his vexation.
Lnc. But will my lord stoop to this mockery?
Giov. He is prepar'd by her uncle ;*twill besport, If she but carry it with pride enough.
Giov. Let her alone.
Steph. And if my lord wants confidence —
Giov. 1 think her impudence will make him blush, And put him out. I have seen a counterfeit With such a majesty compose himself, He thought himself a prince ; could frown as
scornfully,
And give his hand out to great lords to kiss, With as much grace, as all the royal blood Had muster'd in his veins.
Luc. Some monarch Of Inns of court in England,1 sure ;— but when
• Luc. Some monarch
Of inns of court in England,] This is an allusion to the Lord of Misrule annually chosen at the Inns of court. This potentate is frequently mentioned in our old dramas ; but no where more fully than in this place. See Jonson, vol. ii. p. 3.
Sc.Il] THE SISTERS. 373
His reign expires, and Christmas in the grave, Cold as the turkies coffin'd up in crust, That walk like ghosts, and glide to several tables : When instruments are hoarse with sitting up, When the gay triumph ceases, and the treasure Divided, all the offices laid up, And the new clothes in lavender,2 what then ? Giov. Why, then, the man that kiss'd his
highness* hand O'er night, may jostle him for the wall next morn-
And have it too ; if he come off with all His wits, the play is paid for, and he fit For travel.
Enter CONTARINI, ANTONIO, and VERGERIO ; they whisper.
My lady's uncle, and the lord Contarini.
Ver. My lord Conlarini expects when he May have the happiness to present his service To your great lady?
Luc. We shall, sir, acquaint her.
Ver. Your office, sir ?
Luc. Her steward.
Ver. Your's, I pray?
Sleph. Mine? treasurer.
Giov. Mine ? controller.
Ver. I kiss your hands ; This may be worth my lord's curiosity.
Ant. For the mirth's sake, my lord, be pleas 'd ;
you may
Do an act of charity, and restore her senses ; I'll wait on you again. [Exit.
Con. Now, Vergerio.
Ver. The expectation is encreas'd ; her officers Observe the state. Were your affections earnest,
» - the new clothes in lavender ] i. e. in pawn.
374 THE SISTERS. [Actll*
And I, my lord, your mistress, I should trust Her pride.
Con. Unless she ravish me.
Re-enter ANTONIO.
Ant. She's upon entrance ; her madness holds ; Your confidence may convert her. She's my niece, And I am sorry for it.
Flourish. Enter PAULINA, attended in state, AN- GELLINA, and Ladies.
Pan. Give him access.
Con. What lady's that stands on her right hand 1 Ant. Her younger sister, that does vex me as
much
With her humility, as the other with Her impudence.
Con. An excellent piece, Vergerio !
Ver. Which, my lord?
Con. Madam, the glory of your time and nation, Whose looks do shine with majesty, and shoot A flame t'undo the admirer! O, call in Some beams that wait upon the thrones of light, Or I shall fall your sacrifice, and not finish What my great master gave me in charge.
Luc. Has the prince a mind to her himself?
Steph. Ti> not impossible.
Pan. Speak on, my lord.
Ant. Gipsey!
She does believe the lightning of her eye Will blast indeed. How scornfully she squinnies !
Con. I come from the great sovereign of hearts, Whose glorious monarchy, uncircumscribed, Extends to all the habitable world, Wherever land or lover stretch'd his arm ; Whose sceptre's not like that of common kings But a bright golden shaft, feather'd with sighs And headed with a flame, which finds access,
&. II.] THE SISTERS. 375
Like subtle lightning, to the most secure And stubborn cell that ever yet enclosed A human thought.
Luc. He flies high.
Giov. 'Tis his arrow —
Pan. Speak this great name.
Con. The most immortal prince oflove —
Giov. A high and mighty prince indeed.
Luc. 'Tis not our prince of Parma, then?
Con. Unto your beauty, madam, that makes
sweet
The breath of fame, in his name I am sent To offer up a servant, rich with wonder, And humble thoughts that honour you. Who can See those perfections, and not adore The divine owner? Brightness, that offends The innocent eye that gazes, is in you The cure of blindness, and the films that hang Upon the humble[d] sight fall off and vanish, That it may take new life arid light from you.
Ant. Is she not yet ridiculous to herself?
Con. I can leave Cupid's court to live with you, And all those bowers, where an eternal spring Makes every flower in love with its own beauty. The wind, whose airy wings convey all sweetness That sense can entertain, I would exchange But to be near your breath ; and think there dwells A harmony in your voice, above the airs Of all those charming birds by love selected From every wood to be his quire. — I fear I am too bold, and may be thought to wander: If, madam, you accept my amorous vows, Which live yet in the weak expression Of him that honours you, time will produce A white and fortunate hour to crown our loves With nuptial happiness.
Pan. You have relation To the court of Parma ; your name lord Contarini?
376 THE SISTERS. [Actll.
You have no message from your master?
Con. Madam, your feme hath fill'd his court,
and he
Presents by me his princely wishes of Your happiness ; and should lie see your person, Like mine, his heart, I fear, would melt into A stream of love and admiration.
Pan. Sir, we accept in good part greeting from The prince; but you have no commission To treat for him : the substance of your own Affair will ask our pause ; we will take time To answer, which, till you receive, you may Command our court. \Exe. Paul, and Attendants. Ver. Proud folly! Ant. Prodigious impudence ! Con. What think you, signior? Ant. 1 am confounded. I'll to her again. {Exit. Ang. When shall I awake? This sure is but a dream ; the gentleman Cannot so much mistake his time and language.
[Atide.
Con. I came with curiosity to see Her pride, so talk'd of, but my heart, I feel, Is taken with an object of true sweetness. Is't not a lovely figure? Say, Vergerio.
Ver. If but her mind answer that fair proportion, My lord, she is worth love ; but being sister To a woman of such pride — Con. I prithee leave me. Ver. She is very beautiful : my lord is taken.
[Aside and exit.
Con. Lady, but that there's story for your births, I should make judgment, by your modest face, This arrogant woman could not be your sister.
Aug. Sir, if your expectation be riot answer'd With her full worth, 1 shall beseech you name her With less disgrace ; our blood so near, it cannot Be grateful to ray ear to hear her blemishes.
Sc. II.] THE SISTERS. 377
Con. I was prepar'd before to meet this good
ness ;
These words and looks become that innocent spring From whence they flow: Virtue hath such an army About your heart, there's nothing can approach III to betray it. or proceed from you, But warranted by honour.
Any. 1 know not ;
But sure, my lord, you talk too fine a language For me to understand ; we are far from court, Where, though you may speak truth, you clothe it
with
Such trim and gay apparel, we, that only Know her in plainness and simplicity, Cannot tell how to trust our ears, or know 'When men dissemble.
Con, By your own love To truth, you must believe me, when I say, Although it took beginning from this visit, I love no beauty but yourself.
Ang. You said you lov'd my sister, and expressed Your passion in such mighty phrase and fancy, I thought your soul had made a business on't ; Pardon the weakness of my faith, if I Dare not believe this change.
Con. Your sister, lady, I came to visit, not affect. I heard, And had a purpose but to try how near The wonder of her pride, (pardon, sweet virgin,) Came to a truth ; nor did 1 court her with The language of a meaning lover ; but, Prepared by your uncle, meant to make her see Her miserable folly. 1 dare not Present such mockeries to you : suspect not This hasty address ; by your fair self, 1 love you. Ang. My lord, if I believ'd this real courtship, I should not entertain your honour with A fruitless expectation ; but declare,
378 THE SISTERS. [Act II.
Besides my want of fortune, beauty, birth, To make me worth your love, I am already Contracted by my father to religion, Whose will I cheerfully obey, and wait When my good uncle will dispose me to A nunnery.
Con. A nunnery !
Aug. Where, for
So great an honour you pretend to me, A most unworthy maid, I'll otter up My prayers, that you may choose a heart more equal To your own love and greatness.
Re-enter ANTONIO, PAULINA, and Servants.
Con. Nay, you must
Not leave rue so. — We are interrupted ; you May trust me, fair one, with a nearer conference.
[Exeunt Cun. and Ang.
Pan. Alas, poor old man !
Ant. The old man, before your borrowed lady- ship,
Is bold to keep his head warm, and to toll you You are a puppet ; take that to your titles Of honour.
Pan. So, sir ! — None restrain his insolence ?
Ant. I'll make him swallow down his staff of
office
That stirs. I have not done. Canst be so impudent To think his lordship does not laugh at thee ? Your eyes the thrones of light ! a brace of lantherns, In which two snuffs of candle, close to the socket, Appear like fired rakes, and will serve to light A traveller into a ditch. You, madam Majesty, and the glory of a nation ! — Thou art a disease to honour, modesty ; A fever in thy father's blood, a gangrene Upon his name : a pox upon thee for't ! There's one disease more ; yet I have not done.
So. II.] THE SISTERS. 379
Pan. My charity may invite, if these fits hold, Some close provision for you among madmen : I do command youjeave my house.
Ant. I will not ;
I'll (ire the house, dost hear? thou wilt burn well ; Thou'st oil enough about thy face, and all Thy body pitch, "very combustibles ! — But I'll not be darun'd for thee, now I think on't ; And since no counsel will prevail, I'll save Myself. Before I go, give but a reason Why thou dost slight this gallant lord, and squint, As if he were groom or footman ?
Pau. Ill tell you. You would have the truth ? Ant. If thou canst speak any. Pau. I do esteem myself More equal for his master. Ant. Who ? the prince 1 Pau. No, the blind prince of love ; you are wise,
uncle; But I am out of poetry.
Ant. 1 think 1 were best cut off thy head, and
save The laws a labour. — There's no talking to her.
Pau. I am of your mind, uncle ; you may edify Your charge, my younger sister ; she's not proud : Pray take her with you, she'll become the cloistur ; Go/ and be mortified together; take her, I am weary of her.
Ant. And I of thee.
She shall be further off too, thou'lt infect her ; Although her foolish father, (yet he was My brother,)— I have not power to speak Well o'.the dead,— gave thee his whole estate, I have a fortune ; dost thou hear? I have ; And to vex thee, thy sister shall have that. I'll see an I can make her proud, I'll do it! She shall have servants, suitors, fiddlers, flatterers,
380 THE SISTERS. [Act II.
Fine clothes, and all the food that can provoke, To glorify her sense ; I have bags to spare. She shall not to a nunnery ; to vex thee, J say again, she shall not : well have humours. The t' other pox upon thee, and farewell ! [Exit. Pan. I fear he's mad indeed. Let me have
music ; This talk has made me melancholy.3 [Exeunt.
ACT III. SCENE I.
An Apartment in the Castle. Enter Lucio and PIPEROLLO.
Luc. For thy mother's sake thou shalt be enter- tam'd. *
Pip. An under butler would fit me rarely ; There's none i'the house that shall be sooner drunk, Nor oftener, for my lady's credit, sir.
Luc. Can you write ?
Pt/). And read in print, sir.
Luc. Art thou faithful? may a man trust thee?
Pip. For more than I'll speak on. Trusted ! I was bound for two gentlemen lately, that could not take up five hundred pistoles upon other security, my father and mother knows it. I shall never en- dure a thief, for a thing that I know. Alas, you know I am a neighbour's child ; my mother was your good lady's nurse.
Luc. Do not I know thy mother?
3 After this, the Sion College copy introduces the following couplet, probably written by Davenant :
•' For though I am no Princess, you shall see
'• Such state, that Princess born shall learn of me."
SC.L-] THE SISTERS. 381
/% Better, it may be, than I know my father.
Luc. Till some office fall i' the house, you shall serve me, and ride with me, to receive my lady's rents.
Enter GIOVANNI.
Giov. Master steward, yonder are the rarest fel- lows! in such fantastical habits too; they call them- selves mathematicians.
Luc. What do they come for?
Giov. To offer their service to my lady, and tell fortunes.
Luc. Have they no chief?
Giov. Yes, a quaint philosophical fellow ; they call him a Chaldean, a great scholar ; they do not come for money, like your starch-faced Egyptians, but carry things for the credit of the mathematics honourably. My lady hath given the Chaldean her nativity, who is to consult with the ephernerides, and give account how the stars will dispose of her.
Pip. We shall know all our fortunes then.
Giov. The worst of his train can decipher hands, tell foreheads —
Pip. And noses.
G^'ov.One^tthefirstsightjdid butwhisperto my lady's gentlewoman, and she did so blush through her tiffany.
Pip. That's no great matter ; I have seen one blush through a plaisler of Paris.
Luc. How's that?
Pip. A kind of French painting, sir.
Giov. Well said, Piperollo. — I have entertain'd him ;— but my lady !
Enter PAULINA, STEPHANIO, and Ladies. Pan. The Chaldean fet:-
382 THE SISTERS. [ActlM.
Pleases me. I long to hear my fortune ;
If it he good, he shall have a reward
To cherish his great art, and worth my bounty.
What if my stars should frown ? Didst bid them
follow? Steph. They are all ready, madam.
[Music tcithin. Pip. Musical knaves!
Enter LONGINO, RANCONE, PACHECO, am/SiRozzo, in fantastic disguises.
A SONQ.
Beauty, and the various graces,
That adorn the sweetest faces,
Here lake their glorious throne ; may he,
That is the god of archery,
Never aim one angry dart,
But soft, and gentle as your heart,
Court it with flame , and rich perfume,
To light and sweeten^ not consume.
Pau. Not the Chaldean come yet ? My thoughts
are
Inflam'd wrth fierce desire to know my destiny. You have skill, gentlemen ; but I'll expect The judgment of your master on my fate : When the great man of art returns, acquaint me.
[Exeunt Paul, and Ladies. Steph. Come, my friends, let's lose no time. —
Sir. Lon. I am for you to the extent of my art, sig-
nior.
Ran. If it please you, let me peruse your hand. Luc. 'Tis at your service. Pip Please you to examine my palm. Can you tell me, learned sir, what is past?
Sc I.]
THE SISTERS.
383
Pac. You know that already.
Pip. Twill be a satisfaction to me, if you can make it appear that you know something in that point.
Lon. A fracture in the mercurial line, and the Mount of Saturn ill character'd ! You are near a misfortune, sir. [Slrozzo picks Slephanios pocket.
Ran. Jupiter's mount is well forrn'd and co- lour'd ; a cross conspicuous : the sun's mount well figur'd, and line a solis without any intersection.
Luc. Your judgment upon that, sir.
Enter ANTONIO.
Ant. More antics yet ? What nation have we
here ? Fort une- (lingers !
Stroz. You shall know your's immediately.
Ant. Her house is open for these mountebanks, Cheaters, and tumblers, that can foist and flatter My lady gewgaw. Every office open,4 When poor men, that have worth, and want an
alms,
May perish ere they pass the porter's lodge. — What are you, sir?
Stroz. One of the mathematicians, noble signior.
Ant. Mathematicians! mongrel, How durst thou take that learned name upon thee ? You are one of those knaves that stroll the country, And live by picking worms out of fools' fingers.
Stroz. And something out of your trunks,* my reverend Cato. [Aside. Picks his pocket.
Ant. [How] busy the rascals are ! how the rogues stink !
4 Every office open.] So the rooms appropriated to the upper servants of all great families, were called. There is much blundering on this simple word in the notes on Shakspeare.
' And something out of your trunks.] i. e. his trunk-hose, or the large breeches then worn.
384 THE SISTERS. [Actlll.
I'll send your regiment a quartermaster. [Exit.
Stroz. Now to my other gamester.
Pac. You have been —
Pip. What, sir?
PUG. In your ear — a tlnVf.
Pip. He has a devil. — Good sir, not too loud.
Pac. And you shall he —
Pip. Hang'd, 1 warrant you.
Pau. Let me see t'other hand.
Pip. Shall it 'scape with burning?
Ran. You shall be a lord.
Luc. A lord !
Ran. Hum ! yes, a lord infallibly.
Pac. You shall be a knight, sir.
Pip. Of the thieves' order, and wear my rich collar of hemp : is't not so?
Pac. An honourable knight, upon my word.
Luc. A lord ! — Pray give your opinion.
[To Longino.
Lon. Your hand ; you shall be a right worshipful.
Luc. One of your" tribe told me 1 should be a lord.
Slroz. And shall be us'd accordingly ; lords are transitory. [Aside. Picks Lucius pocket.
Lon. Let me see t'other hand. Oh, marry, sir, this line clears the doubt, and marks you right ho- nourable, which makes up the t' other half of your fortune, signior. These two parallel lines, from the dexter angle to the mount of sol, have made all plain : you must be a lord.
Pip. He has given you a very good reason, sir; a man can have but half his fortune in one hand, and two right worshipfuls make up one righl ho- nourable. These are rare fellows ! 1 am predestinate to be a knight ; The stars may do their pleasure, I obey. This should be the Chaldean.
Sc. I.] THE SISTERS. 385
Enter FRAPOLO and CASTRUCHIO.
Fra. [Aside to Lon. Ran. and PGC.] I have narrowly observ'd the castle, and where the trea- sure lies. I know my lady, in honour, will enter- tain us this night ; and when they are asleep, we'll take our opportunity to rifle her exchequer, boys ; meantime, let me alone to humour her proud na- ture : I will so claw her ambition !
Luc. In the interim, I'll put a question to his astrology. — Sir, if you please, till my lady return, to satisfy her steward, and oblige him by your art — one of your under mathematics has given me a comfortable destiny.
Fra. Your hand. Where were you born ?
Luc. I know not, sir.
Ran. A lord — [Ran. ichispers Fra.
Fra. No matter ; Venus, in the ascendant with Sol, being lady of your seventh—hum! hum! — with Jupiter, designs you to be a lord,
Luc. They all agree ; the miracle of learning ! — One question more, I beseech you, sir. I am' to ride with my man to receive my lady's rent to- morrow, through the forest.
Fra. Go to.
Luc. Now, I desire to know whether we shall be robb'd in our return, or no?
Fra. What time do you think precisely to come back, sir 7 for we should know the very minute.
Luc. The money is ready, sir, and we do pur- pose— in your ear —
Fra. Yes, you shall be robb'd ; there's nothing in nature to prevent it.
Pip. Will they kill us, an please you?
/Va.No, they shall not kill you ; they shall only take your money, and break your pate; that will be all.
VOL. v. C c
386 THE SISTERS. [Al III.
Pip. Why, let them rob us, sir ; the loss of our money will be an evidence of our preferment, and you may have more assurance to be a lord, and I of my knighthood. — My lady, sir.
Enter PAULINA, attended.
Fra. Madam, the stars shine with their full beams upon you, who, by me, their interpreter, salute you with a glorious fortune ; for Leo is lord of your horoscope in the right angle of heaven ; and a royal fix'd star, call'd Regulus, or the lion's heart, culminating with him, and a natural reception be- tween Mars and Sol, lord of the tenth, being in the first with Mercury and Venus in the house of honour, besides a conjunction of Jupiter and Luna in Pisces, in the house of marriage.— I must give judgment.
Pan. I shall beseech your clearer language.
Fra. You shall be married to a prince; it is inevitable.
Pau. A prince ?
Luc. May not 1 come to be a lord, then ?
Pip. And I a knight?
Pau. When shall 1 see him?
Fra. He shall within few days visit your castle, drawn hither with the fame of your person and bra- very. I need not instruct you to entertain him with state and ceremony becoming his excellence ; but, if he court you not into his arms, I will re- nounce the stars, and say there is no truth in astrology.
Pau. *How my thoughts swell already !
Fra. She has swallow'd it. [Aside.
Pau. Give him five hundred pistolets.
Fra. Do not wrong so much One that does honour you. As I bribe not The stars to tell me their decrees, I dare not For money sell their secrets ; and if any
•*• L] THE SISTERS. 387
That have relation to me presume To take a Julio —
Lon. By no means, madam.
Pan. I like it, that no mercenary ends Guide them to (latter me. [A drum afar off.
Lon. Is not that a march ? [Exit.
Pip. If it entrench not too far upon your art, — this prince, sir, has a name?
Fra. And rules this province ; Farnese is a bachelor.
Pan. The prince of Parma ! My blood refines in every vein already. Dull heavy souls, that are content to drudge In humble thoughts —
Re-enter LONGINO.
Lon. {aside to Trap.] I fear we are betray'd ; The country's up, and marching to the castle : We may be all surpris'd ; let us to horse. [Exit. Pan. Deny not, sir, this night an entertainment, Such as my castle yields ; it shall not spread To receive guests more welcome. [Drum again. Lite. A drum, madam. [Exit.
Ran. Must we not stay and rob the house to- night ? [Aside to Fra. Fra. Madam, my art foretells I cannot be Safe to remain here. At my return, I will not baulk your castle ; i' the mean time, Cherish high thoughts, your stars do call you
princess ;
So, kissing your fair hand — Pan. Make me not so unhappy. Fra. There is no dispute with destiny : I take my humble leave.— Away ! to horse!
[Exeunt Banditti.
Pau. This more amazeth me. What danger should
Cc2
888 THE SISTERS.
Provoke this haste ? If it prove their concernment, I must believe they do converse with fate, And trust to them as oracles. A princess ! Was not my soul prophetical ?
Re-enter Lucio.
Luc. Madam, some accident hath rais'd your
tenants ;
They march in fury this way, in strange postures And arms, as if they came to storm the castle.
Re-enter PIPEROLLO.
Pip. Madam, we are all undone ! the clubs are
up;
Your tenants are turn'd rebels, and, by this time, Enter'd the hall, and threaten to surprise I know not whom : but the Chaldean and His troop are vanish'd ; they foresaw this tempest.
l\m. What should this mean ?
Enter a rabble of Country men, armed.
1 Conn. Come on, you men of lusty chine. —
Dear lady,
Be not affrighted ; captain of thy guard Am I, thy natural tenant, and thy vassal. Where be these sunburnt Ethiopians? I will not leave one canting rogue alive.
Pau. What Ethiopians ? what canting rogues? Do not your clownships know me ?
1 Coun. Know our princess ! We honour thee, and rise in thy defence. Where be these thieves? We heard there were a
regiment, That came to cheat and plunder.
P*tu. You are a knot
Sc. I] THE SISTERS. 389
Of knaves and fools, and shall repent this inso-
lence. —
You that command in chief, good captain Bumbard, May teach your raggamuffins face about. Was it your stratagem to fright my guests ? 1 Coun. Your uncle told us, madam., and com- manded—
Pan. Was it his plot? He's still my enemy. 1 Conn. Pardon us, madam ; we came simply
hither
To do you service. — Kneel,
Or we shall all be stripp'd out of our tenements.
[They kneel.
Pan. My uncle has abus'd you ; But this submission takes our anger off. Continue dutiful to my commands, And you shall be remember'd. — Piperollo — [Exit. Pip. I know the buttery, madam. — Follow me, It is my lady's pleasure you be drunk ; And thank her grace you keep your copyholds. Do you bring up the rear ; I'll march in front.
[Exeunt.
SCENE II.
An Apartment in Antonio's House. Enter ANTONIO and CONTARINI.
Ant. Passion o' me ! it is too great an honour. Refuse a man of your high blood and name, That courts her honourably ! I could beat her.
Con. Tis not impossible, at my return, To find a change. I must to court again.
Enter VERGERIO. Ver. The horses, my lord, are ready.
390 THE SISTERS. [AetW.
Con. Vergerio. [They talk aside.
Ant. What a baggage 'tis ! she's all for the
nunnery.
She shall not have her will ; I'll undo myself But I'll destroy this modesty. If I could But make her proud, there were some hope on her.
Ver. My lord, you may command ; but how unfit 1 am to manage this affair —
Con. Thou hast a powerful language ; it pre-
vail'd
On me, when I first saw thee ; since which time 1 have not deserv'd unkindly from thee ; and This trust speaks more than common favour.
Ver. Make me his advocate to Angel 1 ina !
[Aside.
Ant. My lord, if you can still preserve these
thoughts Of honour to us, leave her to my counsel.
Con. Most cheerfully ; I am not desperate. This gentleman I'll leave to wait upon her, Who is privy to my counsels and affection.
Ant Your lordship hath found trust in him ; but
that
Shall not excuse my care, to make her know Her happiness, and the honour of our family, By meeting your commands. She's here. —
Enter ANGELLINA and FRANCESCINA ; Antonio en- gages Francescina, while Con. takes Ang. aside.
Francescina, tell me, what hope of your mistress ! How does thy counsel work ? Does she pray less Than she was wont? or listen now and then When thou talk'st wantonly. Does she smile
upon't? Fran. Between ourselves, I put her to a smiling
blush. Ant. What said she, tell me, on thy modesty,
Sc. If.] THE SISTERS. 391
i
When she [first] found her dear delight, the legend Of the saints, remov'd, and Ovid's tales of Jupiter Put in the place ?
Fran. She said, that Jupiter Was a most sensual heretic, and the cestus That Venus wore, was not St. Francis' girdle.
Ant. How did she like the picture of Leander, Swimming the Hellespont upon his back? How that of Cleopatra kissing Antony?
Fran. She says, that queen was none of the poor
Clares,
But one bred up in black Egyptian darkne All 1 can say, she is not desperate ; I sing no anthems to her.
Ant. What says she to her dancing* master"?
Fran. She is pass'd her honour; That's a preci- ous fellow ;
Shell laugh to see him gambol with his limbs; His head flies like a ball about the room ; You'd think he were at tennis with it.
Aug. Though in the guilt and knowledge of my
own
Defects, to answer such an honourable Esteem of me, I dare not yet presume To meet it ; I shall want no pious thoughts For this so great a bounty to a poor Desertless virgin.
Ant. Hang your pious thoughts ! And love my lord.
Con. Not for the wealth of Parma Should my cause force one cloud upon her face, Or put her eyes to the expense of tears ; It shall be argument for me to hope* If she accept this youth to wait upon her, Who may, in some auspicious hour, prepare me A gentle seat within her heart.— Meantime, I leave upon your virgin lip the faith Of your true servant, lady.
392 THE SISTERS.
Ant. I'll attend you To horse, my lord. [Exeunt Ant. and Con.
Any. Poor miserable maid ! Fall'n now beneath the pity of thyself. My heart, on which so late a flame of heaven Slream'd con;fort in my holy resolutions, Is filTd with love, but not of Contarini, Whpse passion may deserve another's welcome. — I prithee, Francescina, take thy lute, And let me hear thy voice.
Fran. I can sing Venus and Adonis to you.
Ang. Any thing.
Fran. Or will you hear the pleasant ditty, How fair Calisto first became a nun ?
Ang. I prithee do not name a nun ; the flame That 1 feel here deserves no vestal name.
Fran. I'll do my best to fit you ; There's no such tool in nature as a chambermaid, To work upon her mistress. [Exeunt
t ACT IV. SCENE I.
A Wood, before the Banditti's Cave.
Enter FRAPOLO, LONGINO, STROZZO, PACHECO, and the rest.
Fra. It was a fatal business, to lose such an opportunity.
Lon. My lady was wound up so rarely !
Stroz. We were betray'd for certain ; 'twas high time to scud, and get into our territories. Now we are safe in our grots, secure as the Minotaur, and keep the clew of our own labyrinths.
Pac. We lost a rare design ; but, in ray opinion,
&.L] THE SISTERS. 393
'tis better scouting here with our heads on, than have them carried in by clowns at the court rate.
Fra. The ignorant rogues would ne'er have sold them to their worth.
Lon. And they dare as soon venture upon hell, as shoot their heads into this furnace.
Fra. But this Claridiana shall not 'scape so. I am resolv'd to visit her again ; and I am glad I prepar'd another expectation. These difficulties shall make our next attempt more glorious.
Lon. Those shapes will conjure up the boors again.
Stroz. She does expect the Chaldean. Fra. Hang the Chaldean ! I have a new device shall scour the castle, And make dame Guinever, with all her pride, Thank and adore the invention. Lon. How ? dear Frapolo, how ?
[Whooping within. Fra. Scout, and discover, Strozzo.
[Stroz. looks out.
Stroz. I see but two men coming down the hill. Fra. Cannot their worships travel with less
noise ?
Lon. They durst not be so confident without a number : 'tis good to be secure, [ichooping again.'] — The noise approaches ; let's to our shells. Fra. Do you lie perdu still.
[They all retire but Pac. and Fra. Pac. I do not like their confidence ; these may be The enemy's scouts : let's not engage too soon, For fear of a reserve. The state~has threaten'd To send their vermin forth.
Fra. Obscure: close, close! [They retire.
Enter Lucio and PIPEROLLO.
Luc. What dost thou mean ? Thou hast a mind to be robb'd indeed.
394 THE SISTERS. [ActlV.
Pip. I would have art maintained in reputation. You know my lady is to be a princess, And you must be a lord, and I be dubbed; But if we be not robb'd, I know not how To trust the mathematics, or the stars. I am afraid all the bandits are hang'd ; A thousand pistols should not fear to travel.
Luc. It is not wisdom to proclaim our charge ; Though I could be content to be a lord, I am not over hearty. Thieves are thieves, And life is precious. Prithee let's make haste.
Pip. Illo, ho, ho! think upon your honour ; are there no gentlemen, no wanting gentlemen, that know how to spend a quantity of gold ? There is no thief in nature. [Strozzo peeps out.
Stroz. The gentleman is very merry. They that mean well, and have their wits about them, do not use to call upon our tribe. This is a plot, a very plot ; and yet the coast is clear. [Coming forward.] Now 1 may reach their voice.
Pip It will not be. Were ever men distressed so?
Luc. Come, we are well yet, Piperollo ; if The stars decree our robbery, it will follow.
Pip. I pray, sir, let's sit down here ; as you hope to be a lord, we must do our endeavour, and help the fates. Do but hear reason, sir.
Stroz. 'Tis my proud madam's steward, and our quondam fellow thief; they were told their fortunes to be robb'd. Here had been a purchase lost, if I had not lain perdu. — You shall be dispatch'd pre- sently, never fear it. [He whistles.
Luc. What's that? I do not like that tune.
Pip. Hum ! I am not in love with that quail-pipe. I could dwindle, but that I have a strong faith in the mathematics. Thieves, an't be thy will !
Luc. If they should cut our throats now — this is your folly. Would I were off!
Pip. Would I were a knight in an embroidered
Sc.I.] THE SISTERS. 395
dishclout! Have a good heart, sir; there's no more to be said in't ; let the stars take their course ; 'tis my lady's money, and if we be robb'd, we are so much the nearer to preferment
Re-enter FRA POLO and the rest masked and dis- guised.
Luc. Ah, sweet gentlemen, take but the mo- ney—
Pip. 'Tis ready told ; nay, nay, we are friends. Give us but a note under your hands for my lady's satisfaction, that you have received it, gentlemen.
Luc. You need not trouble yourselves to tell it, gentlemen ; it is all right.
Lon. So, so ! we'll take your words.
Pip. I should know that vizard ; the garments that you wear too I have seen. — Old acquaintance!
Fra. Does he know you? Cut his throat. .
Pip. No, sir, I do not know him, nor any man, nor myself; I was not once robb'd before, neither did I help any man to rob my own father and mo- ther! I knew no cedar chest I, I disclaim it; nor was any man that I know left bound for the money. You are all honest gentlemen, and I congratulate our good fortune, that you came so luckily in the very nick ; we had carried home the money else in good sadness. — Sir, we are made for ever. — Rare mathematicians !
Fra. What's that you talk, sirrah, of mathema- ticians?
Pip. It pleased some of the learned tribe to visit my lady not long since ; but they are well, 1 hope ; they told us we should be robb'd, and 'tis done : blessed Chaldean !
Fra. What became of them ?
Pip. They 'scaped a scouring; for my lady's
396 THE SISTERS. [ActlV.
cynical uncle, in mere malice to learning, rais'd the clowns1 upon them, persuading the Hobbinols they came to rob the house ; but honoured be the stars ! they brought them off at the back gate.
Fra. They seem honest fellows ; let them live, and pass.
Luc. We humbly thank you, gentlemen. — Come, Piperollo.
Pip. And yet, now I remember, there wants a circumstance, my pate is not broke yet, that was a clause; the Chaldean was a little out.
Fra. I had forgot, [aside.']— Will you be prat- ing, sirrah ? [He breaks his head.
Pip. Now 'tis done ; I thank you, dear gentle- men, I thank you ; go forth, and be a knight! Ma- thematician, 1 adore thee. It bleeds. Where are you, sir? all is complete, and my head is broke, according to prophecy. Oh, admirable Chaldean !
[Exeunt Luc. and Pip.
Lon. We have not lost all my lady's money : but to your plot, Frapolo.
Fra. This hath ripen'd it, and I appear a blazing star already.
Stroz. What's the mystery ?
Fra. You know I am your prince ?
Lon. 'Tis acknowledged.
Fra. We will in state visit the proud Paulina. I am the prince Farnese, and you are all my lords and privy counsellors ; bear up, for honour of your prince.
Lon. I apprehend it ; 'tis a most rare design : she will be mad to meet it,
Pac. Will you marry her?
Fra. I cannot tell ; there may be a necessity : But when I have the wen h, her plate, and jewels,
1 Raised the clowns upon them,] The old copy reads, the towns.
&•!.] THE SISTERS. 39T
And other sums, I have cast already whither We must transport ourselves. — We'll divide all.
Lon. And the wench too ?
Fra. No, not the wench, until I cast the concu- bine.
Remember who I am, the choice of flesh Is my prerogative. No murmuring ; You shall provide our robes,
Stros. Now we are rogues to purpose.
Fra. I am your prince, and the worst thief a statesman.
Omnes. A prince ! a prince ! [Exeunt.
SCENE II.
A Room in Antonio's House.
Enter ANGELLINA and FRANC ESCINA.
Ang. Where is Vergerio?
Fran. I know not, madam.
Ang. Madam ! I prithee leave that folly. I am no lady ; call me Angellina.
Fran. Ill call you madam ; 'tis a name in
fashion.
What do you want to justify that title? Have you not beauty, jewels, gold at pleasure, Fine clothes, high food, and men as motley as The ambassador's, to wait? Does not your uncle Allow you all that can make up a lady? Pardon my boldness, madam, I beseech you.
Enter two Gentlewomen.
Ang. What are these ?
Fran. The gentlewomen were commended, ma- dam,
Most excellent in their art about great ladies, And come to tender you their humble service.
398 THE SISTERS. [ActlV.
1 Gent. Most proud, if you accept our duties, madam.
Fran. Look you, they're proud already ; they
have nothing
But their trade to live upon. She with the face Spotted with ermins hath been late in France, And knows the mode to a mathematical point ; She has the theory of song, but lost The practic part by sitting up o' nights ; She danceth still, can talk in several languages, And has the art of every game, to instruct A novice lady —
Any. To lose time.
Fran. And what
Age do you think the other gentlewoman Carries, that simpers so? the miracle Of painting ! She presents scarce five-and-twenty ; But if you credit church records, she numbers But five short of threescore. Medea had No charms like her, to preserve youth and beauty : She hath the art of making eyes, new hair, And ivory teeth ; hath skill in making fruitful, And is an excellent midwife ; she hath curd A man that had no nose, and a court-lady That had no tongue.
Ang. These are transceudant qualities. Since 'tis my uncle's pleasure, they may wait ; But not to serve me. [Knocking within.
Fran. Who's that knocks so modestly ? Tis not your dancing- master, nor the doctor ; They have more confidence. [Goes to the door. 'Tis the parson's nephew, come from the univer- sity;
Some say, a pretty scholar, and a wit ; Hath an ambition to kiss your band, And tender his first fruits.
Ang. What's that?
Fran. Some poetry.
&.H.] THE SISTERS. 399
1 Gent. By any means, madam, you must be
flatter'd ;
Great ladies cannot live else. Ang. Let him enter.
Enter Scholar, with a paper.
Scho* Darling of beauty, fairest Angellina, Thus low the muses bow, and send by me An abstract of yourself. Oh, make the paper More white, by kissing your fair hand ; and with Your breath, like a soft western gale, perfume These lines, created in your praise.
[ Gives Ang. the paper, which she reads.
Ang. What's here?— I am A stranger to you, sir, and to your language : These words have no relation to me. I pity men of your high fancy should Dishonour their own names, by forming such Prodigious shapes of beauty in our sex. If I were really what you would commend, Mankind would fly me. Get a painter, sir, And when he has wrought a woman by your fancy, See if you know her again.2 Were it not fine, If you should see your mistress without hair, Dress'd only with those glittering beamsyoutalkof? Two suns instead of eyes, and they not melt The forehead made of snow? no cheeks, but two Roses inoculated on a lily)
* The hint seems to have been taken, and the experiment made. Shortly after the date of this play, a small folio volume was published, entitled the Extravagant Shepherd f or the His- tory of Lysis, an Anti- Romance, in 14 books, written originally in French. Prefixed to the 2d book is a portrait composed some- what after Angellina's model : the hair presents two nets, in which hearts are ensnared, the forehead is a Cupid ; the eye- brows are two bows, and the eyes two suns ; the cheeks lilies and roses, the lips two bits of coral, the teeth pearls, and the bosom two globes, properly mapped out !
400 THE SISTERS. [Act IV.
Between, a pendant alabaster nose ? Her lips cut out of coral, and no teeth, But strings of pearl ; her tongue a nightingale's ; Her chin a rump of ivory, and so forth ? Would not this strange chimera fright yourself1? And yet you take the boldness to present us, And think we must applaud, and thank you for Ourselves, made monsters by your art. No more Of this, for shame ; lose not your time and honour In this fantastic idol. You will say, The world is peevish, and not kind to virtue. — Give him ten pistolets, to cure his poverty ; There are good seeds in him, and they may [yet] Grow with some cherishing.
Scho. You are enough To vindicate your sex. I shall not blush To write your story.
Fran. You shall owe me, sir, An anagram, and a posy, loo. for my Next ring.
Scho. You shall command my faculty, My dearest Abigail.3 [Exit.
Fran. Thank you, sweet sir Roger.
Enter four Citizens.
1 Cit. Is her ladyship at leisure? Ana. What are these?
2 Cit. We are humble suitors, madam, for your
favour.
Ana. Speak your request.
1 Cit. I am a tailor, madam, That holds intelligence with foreign courts, To furnish ladies with new fashions ; And 1 have patterns of the strangest shapes That ever ladies long'd for.
3 The names of Abigail, and sweet sir Roger, are taken from two pleasant characters in Fletcher's Scornful Lady.
&.H.] THE SISTERS. 401
Ang. I believe it.
2 Cit. I have the ambition to own the name Of your perfumer, madam.
3 Cit. I your jeweller.
What think you of that carkanet, sweet madam] The pearls are orient. I have a diamond The sultan gave one of his concubines ;
It weighs caracts ; if it please you, madam,
To wear it in the court, — and I'll attend
Your ladyship six months hence, to pay me for't :
I know your uncle, madam.
Ang. This is his plot
Fran. By all means take it.
Ang. Excuse me. — What are you 7 speak your desire.
4 Cit. 1 would present you, madam, with a pair Of curious spurs.
Ang. For what use, prithee ?
4 Cit. For what you please. I see all men of trade Apply themselves to gain relation to you, And 1 would be your spurrier.
Ang, Do ladies Wear spurs, my friend ?
4 Cit. They may in time. Who knows what
may be done,
If one great lady would begin ? they ride Like men already : 'tis all one to me, So I may have the credit of your name, And privilege to swell above my neighbours.
Ang. When I stand, gentlemen, in need of your Professions, I'll send for you ; i' the meantime, You shall need no solicitor.
Omnes. Your servants.
4 Cit. Buy a spur. [Exeunt Citizens.
Ang. I prithee let me not be troubled with This kind of people, Francescina ; ladies Have a fine time, if they be all thus visited.
[Fran, goes to the door.
VOL. v. D d
402 THE SISTERS. \_Act\V.
Fran. You are rude and saucy fellows, to intrude So far without my lady's license.
Ang. What makes thee so impatient? Will
t heynot Be gone ?
Fran. Gone 1 Here's a new regiment is pressing forward.
Ang. What are they ?
Fran. Beggars.
Ang. How !
Fran. And tell me I abuse your charity, To keep off their petitions. We must have A court- du-guard,4 I think, and Gentries placed At every door.
Ang. I prithee, let them enter.
Enter ANTONIO disguised, as a Petitioner, with two
others.
Fran, The room will not be sweet again this
three days ; But if it be your pleasure — Know your distance.
Ang. The blind and lame ! — What's your con- dition, sir?
Ant. As miserable, madam, as the sea, That swallow'd all my wealth, can make a man, That once commanded thousands. I blush to beg; But nature, too impatient of starving, Compels me to this boldness. You may soon Peruse my tragic story there. [Owes a paper.
Ang. Good old man !
Fran. What is his loss to you ?
Pet. My petition, too :
A poor blind man, that hath lost more by fire Than his estate, valued a thousand times :
4 This corrupt and motley expression for a corps-de-garde, is yet sufficient to shew, that both Steevens and Malone mistook its import, when they rendered it tr the place where the guard musters,"
Sc. II.] THE SISTERS. 403
And 'tis but equal, fire should spoil my eyes, That ravish'd me of all was precious to them, A wife and pretty children.
Ang. Burn'd !
Pet. All burn'd ;
And what my eyes cannot afford their memory, My poor heart weeps in blood.
Pet. I am a soldier,
That in my country's service lost my limbs : I've had more lead in bullets taken from me, Than would repair some steeple.
Fran. Ring the bells, That was a loud one !
Pet. I have given wounds have kill'd the
lookers-on
With horror of their gaping, and have march'd Ten miles a day thus deep —
Fran. In dirt ?
Pet. In blood.
Fran. Upon those wooden legs?
Ang. Poor souls! I pity them. — Here,honestmen, Divide this bag, and pray for my good uncle.
Omnes. Blessings on you, madam !
Pet. Equal division ; come.
Ant. Stay ; in the first place, I brought you
hither, Therefore my part is most considerable.
Pet. I'll have no prerogative.
Pet. Nor 1.
Ant. But I will. [Throws off his disguise.
Do not I know you both for cheating rascals ? Thus are good meanings cozen'd ! and you shall not Lose your reward. Send for some officers.
Pet. We are betray'd. [Exeunt Pet.
Ang. My uncle !
Ant. They have found their eyes and legs again. Niece, 1 obsene your charity, but you see not The inside of thefee things, and I did mean,
Dd2
404 THE SISTERS.
And hope, these sums might serve yourself: some
ladies
Would have considered a new gown and trinkets. — Francescina,
I see little amendment; she'll undo me In pious uses.
Fran. She has entertained these gentlewomen ;
Enter VERGERIO.
And that young gentleman does good upon her.
Ant. I like it well ; he's careful of my lord ; And if she meet his honourable treaty, She may learn pride at court, should our art fail. She smiles. — I will not interrupt them.
Enter GIOVANNI.
Giov. My lady entreats the presence of her sister.
Ant. Does she entreat 1 Yes, you may visit her. Sir, if you please, I'll trust her to your conduct.
Ver. 'Tis my ambition to attend her.
Ant. Hark you ;
Remember who you are, and carry things For the credit of my heir, and one that must be Kight honourable shortly. If I hear Thou flout'st her, thou shalt have another gown And petticoat embroidered ; or but beat her, And put me to a pension : fare you well. — Francescina, wait; \vait all upon your mistress.
[Exeunt.
SCENE III.
A Room in the Castle.
Enter PAULINA.
Pau. No news yet of the prince ! He fill'd my dreams
Sc.lL] THE SISTERS. 406
Last night ; it was a golden, glorious slumber : Me thought we both were led into a temple, Where all our rites of marriage were perform'd In the presence of a thousand angel-cupids.
Enter PIPEROLLO, and stumbles.
Pip. 'Twas my devotion, madam, to present you The news ; I could not break my neck upon A better cause.
Pan. Is the prince come ?
Pip. The prince is at your service : though I slipp'd at the chamber door, it is my happiness to be the first messenger.
Pan. Of what?
Pip. I desire no reward, madam ; 'tis sufficient I know what will become of us all, You remem- ber the Chaldean; all has happen'd, — I thank astrology.
Pan. "For what 1
Pip. Your money is gone, your rents have been
received, And my head broke to purpose ; things are visible.
Enter Lucio.
My master can confirm it.
Pan. What's this prodigy?
Luc. Madam, 'tis done ; we have been robb'd.
Pan. How !
Luc. As the Chaldean and the stars would have
it, Just to a minute.
Pip. Rare mathematician !
Pau. I'll hang you both.
Pip. You may, and be no princess.
Pau. Did he foretell this loss ?
Pip. Is my pate broken ? Do I live, and hope To kneel, and say, if t please your grace, to call
406 THE SISTERS. [ActlV.
Him lord, and answer to a knight?— We're made,
Pan. Be at a distance. — If there be truth in the Chaldean's art, These inconsiderable losses are A new presage of my approaching greatness.
Enter STEPHANIO, with LONGINO disguised.
/ ,
Steph. One from the prince.
Lon. His highness Farnese, madam, greets your ladyship, and intends to be your guest this night.
Pan. It will be an honour My life must owe him duty for.
Pip. Do not you feel a lordship creep up by your short ribs?
Lon. His grace is not far off.
Pan. Present the humble duty of his handmaid, And say my castle droops till it receive him.
Lon. I shall, madam. [Exit.
Pan. We must prepare to^meet and entertain
him. AH things have been prophetical. {Exit.
Pip. My very good lord.
Luc. Right worshipful Piperollo. [Exeunt.
SCENE IV.
The Approach to the Castle.
Enter VERGERIO, ANGELLINA ; FRANCESCINA and Servants following at a distance.
Ver. In my pity
That so much innocence should not be lost On faithless Contarini, I have landed Upon your knowledge this unhappy secret.
Ang. Promised his faith to another? 'Twas ill
done,
To work my uncle, and destroy my thoughts Of a religious life.
Sfc. III.] THE SISTERS.
407
Ver. You may collect those pure desires again ; Heaven will be soon invited, and a second Resolve confirm that happiness.
Ang. May we not,
Without so strict forsaking of the world, Be capable of blessing, and meet heaven At last, though erring nature guide sometime Out of the nearest way? Ver. Yes, Angellina.
Ang. I must be no votary, But when you turn a friar, then.
Ver. How, lady?
Ang. Sir, you have merited for this discovery All that I am to serve you ; and unless You help me in this labyrinth, I must Live in despair of freedom.
Ver. Any service ;
There's so much sweetness in you, I could lay My life a sacrifice. Be confident, I must be left of heaven, when I forsake you.
Ang. And I dare trust your virtue with a secret I have not told my ghostly father.
Fran. I know not what opinion my lord has Of his smooth advocate, but I should gather, By symptoms of my mistress, she is sick Of the younger gentleman.
Ver. I dare not hope
This blessing ; His an honour placed on me That has no value. 1 am a stranger. v
Ang. You are no stranger here.
Ver. Your uncle too—
Ang. May err in his election
Ver. But his anger —
Ang. My prayer and tears may soften.
Ver. Do not dress
Your eyes with sorrow, Angellina; this Too gracious an influence upon Your servant, must command my utmost duty:
408 THE SISTERS. [ActlV.
Upon this white hand I breathe out ray heart \ And when I pay affection to another Mistress, in your revenge, her beauty blast me ! But we may be observ'd.
Ang. Be all my guide.
Ver. This must be manag'd wisely, we are lost else.
Ang. We are now arriv'd the castle. Frances- cina!
Fran. We attend. [Exeunt.
SCENE V.
Before the Castle.
Enter prince FARNESE and CONTARINI.
Farn. I am obscur'd sufficiently ?
Con. My life on't.
Farn. Here are great preparations, and the people Flock as to see some triumph ; this Paulina Will be ador'd i' the country.
Con. But her sister,
With an extreme of sweetness and humility, Will take the wonder off; she so transcends.
Farn. Your words fall from you, I have observ'd, my lord, with too much passion : She's but a woman, and may be no miracle, When a clear eye is judge.
Con. Sir^J owe
All that I am in fortune, name, and greatness, Unto your person ; next whom, give me leave To say, I rate no expectation Equal to be her servant ; yet I find Her cold to those desires that court her with All honour. I shall humbly beg your grace, When you converse, will interpose your favour,
&.IV.] THE SISTERS. 409
And, by your mediation, perfect all That can be nam'd my happiness.
Farn. You express
A strong captivity in so small acquaintance. Well, rny lord, trust to me. Is this her castle?—
Enter PIPEROLLO.
By your favour, sir.
Pip. Speak quickly, what's your business ?
Farn. Is this Paulina's castle?
Pip. Plain Paulina ! and, is this her castle ! My friend, you want some breeding \ she that owes This palace, for a prince hath made it so, Is not far off. Turn your eyes backward, sir, And tell yourself, without a perspective, What man is coming towards us.
Farn. Worthy sir.
Pip. Put off your hats, and hear his name —
Farnese,
The prince of Parma, 's there. I kiss'd his hand ; My breath is since the sweeter.
Farn. The prince! where?
Pip. You'll find him with my lady, whom he
came
To visit. If you'll promise to be drunk, Take what's a secret yet : he comes to marry her, Or there's no truth in stars. She is to be His spouse. Farewell, and thank my worship heartily. [Exit.
Con. This fellow's mad !
Farn. He kiss'd the prince's hand ! What mystery is this !
Con. See ! they approach.
Farn. I am not lost, sure, in this cloud. They
march In state this way. [Loud music.
410
THE SISTERS. [ActlV.
Enter in state, FRAPOLO, -disguised as the prince Farnese, leading in P AULIN A , followed by LON- GING, ANGELLINA, VERGERIO, Ladies, and a train of gallants.
Ang. How ! an impostor?
Ver. Sure I know the prince.
Ang. Conceal it yet.
Farn. What gentleman is that ?
Lon. The prince of Parma, sir.
Con. This will be worth observing.
Farn. Do we not both dream? that Paulina!
How Disdainfully she moves !
Con. That is her younger sister, upon whom Vergerio waits.
Farn. He knows I am the prince.
Con. How do you like her, sir ?
Farn. Ha! 'tis not fit to tell thee. [Aside.
Con. Does she not Answer my character?
Farn. On my heart, a fair one !
Con. Pray tell me how you like her, sir ?
Farn. Not yet.
I am lost in wonder of her sweetness. [Aside.] Bid Vergerio bring her to Antonio's ; I'll be his guest to-night.
Con. I shall obey, sir.
Pip. Make room for the prince ! fellows, bear
back!— You are not to be knighted, friend, I take it.
Farn. Thus can the flame of heaven with subtile
art
Leave the skin whole, yet quite consume the heart.
[Exeunt.
THE SISTERS. 41]
ACT V. SCENE I. A Room in Antonio's House.
Enter CONTARINI and ANTONIO.'
Ant. My niece has had a pretty warm night on't : 'Tis a bold knave, to take the prince upon him. I did believe the noise, and was considering How to contrive my peace with her good grace.
Con. You have no fear to suffer now.
Ant. I thank Your lordship, that has made my house and know-
ledge
So fortunate, by the presence of our great Farnese ; 'tis an honour makes me young : And yet this rascal troubles me, that durst Come in the prince's name, and charge my niece So home too. Is't not treason, sir ?
Con. Of highest nature.
Ant. Let him then taste the law ; yet I com-
mend
His spirit, that would scorn to die for felony ; And when his head goes off, the shame and grief May help to break her heart ; I do not love her. — And then my girl, my Angellina, 's heir, And you her lord and mine.
Con. My hopes are fair, The prince himself having vouchsafd to be My advocate.
Ant. He must command all here.
Enter FARNESE and ANGELLINA. JTis a good prince, and loves you well ; and let
412 THE SISTERS. [Act "ST.
Me, without boast, tell you, my lord, she brings No common blood: though we live dark i' the
country,
I can derive her from the great Ursini. — But we have been eclips'd.
Farn. Contarini, leave us. [exit Cont.~\ — You
may stay, Antonio. Is't not an honour to your family, A prince should court your niece into his arms ?
Ant. I must confess, 'tis good enough for such A baggage ; they will make together, sir, A most excellent shew upon the scaffold.
Farn. The impostor, and Paulina's pride, take
off
Your understanding. I do court your niece, Fair Angellina.
Ant. How, sir?
Farn. And as becomes a princess.
Ant. Your grace is merry.
Farn. I know not, but there's magic in her eyes.
Ant. Magic ! an she be a witch, I have done
with her. —
Does he love Angellina? — Please your highness, Do you affect this girl ? ; Farn. Religiously.
.In L And have you all your princely wits about you?
Farn. This language is but coarse: I tell you, sir, The virgin must be mine.
Ant. Your whore ?
Farn. My princess.
Ant. That's another matter.
Farn. Shew your obedience. ,?.
You have commands upon her, as a father.
Ant. I know not what to say, but I'll persuade. — Hark you, niece ; you hear what the prince says ; 'Tis now no time to think of nunneries. Be ruled, then, and love somebody ; if you have
&.L] THE SISTERS. 413
Promised my lord, I say make good that promise ;
If not, the prince is worth considering.
The gentleman will make you a round jointure.
If thou be'st free, love him, to vex thy sister,
Who may, upon submission, be received
To grace, and rise in time a madam nurse
To your heir-apparent. I have done my duty.
But this is no great honesty, to cheat
My lord. I see the greatest men are flesh
And blood ; our souls are much upon a making.
All men that are in love deal with the devil,
Only with this difference, he that dotes
Upon a woman is absolutely possessed ;
And he that loves the least is haunted
With a familiar. [Aside.
Enter a Servant.
Serv. Old Fabio, sir, your tenant* with much
business
In's face, desires to speak with you ; I could hardly Keep him from pressing in ; his wife, he says, Is lunatic.
Ant. We shall all be mad shortly. Where is the knave ? [Exeunt Ant. and Serv.
Ang. I dare do, sir, as much to shew my duty As any maid alive ; I dare die for you.
Farn, And yet you dare not love.
Ang. Not in that sense You invite me to.
Farn. My courtship carries
No stain to fright you., What I have propounded Is worth the ambition of a greater lady ; Though you profess so liberally, I find Your cunning ; and because I have so much Descended from my title, you assume This unbecoming nicety.. Take;heed^ . , ,. I can be angry. ,n
414
THE SISTERS. [ActV.
Ang. As you are a man, That passion may come near you, sir ; and as You are my prince, you may command my death To follow, and appease it. But you said You lov'd me.
Farn. I do, if you can wisely entertain it.
Ang. Then you must love my honour, A virgin's wealth ; for every honest man Or woman has an honour, and that has Engag'd my heart already by a contract : This tie dissolv'd with justice, I should kneel To ask your princely favour.
Farn. I am answer'd. — Who waits ? Call my lord Contarini hither.
Re-enter CONTARINI.
Con. Sir.
Farn. You might have mock'd another person, And not have made me a ridiculous story To your mistress, sir.
Con. I understand you not.
Farn. Engage me to mediation for her love ; With a pretence how much my act should honour Your faint hopes, when you are conscious of a
contract Already pass'd between you !
Con- Contract, sir ! She never yet gave me any language Did promise hope ; she still concluded me With going to a cloister.
Farn. How's this, fair one?
Ang. It is most sure, I am contracted.
Con, To whom *
Ang. Vergerio, your lordship's agent.
Con. That boy betray me, In whom 1 took delight, made him my friend ! He play the traitor ! I'll be reveng'd upon His heart.
&.I.] THE SISTERS. 415
Farn. Contain your passion, Contarini ; Her beauty had a power above my friendship ; It well might shake his faith ; and yet 'tis strange. Call in Vergerio.
Enter VERGERIO.
Ver. I have heard all,
And come to meet my sentence. — You are a prince 'Gainst whom I dare not lift a thought. I see What storm is rising ; yet let this, great sir, Invite your mercy to me : I have made No breach against your love ; and that which was My fault to his, may be excus'd, by what He felt himself; love, not to be resisted. This virgin I lay claim to, and her vows No subject must compel me to resign ; But if the prince think me unfit, and call This treasure from my bosom, and can place His love, where I so chastely have delighted ; I will not keep a thought that shall repine, When I am miserable in her absence, But give my interest cheerfully. — To you, My lord, I answer, I have made no trespass, And shall, so please your highness to be judge, Make it appear. [Whispers the Duke.
Con. Was ever such an impudence ! This presence does protect him, I should else Write treason on his heart. — Bui, Angellina, I pity thy undoing. How canst thou Expect a truth from him betrays his master?
Ang. My lord, you have been faulty, sure; and this (Not worthy to be call'd a loss of me) Was meant by Providence to wake your faith, That's owing to another.
Farn. Possible!
The viceroy of Sicily's daughter, Pulcheria? Con. Pulcheria here ?
416
THE SISTERS.
[Act V«
Ver. Here, Contarini.'. t -
Con. Ha! prov'd a woman. Oh, my shame and folly!
Ver. Pardon my too much love, that made me
fear
You had forgot Pulcheria, though you left Your vows and me at Sicily, when you were Ambassador from the prince.
Con. Whence embark'd,
Thou brought'st me news Pulcheria was drown'd, And thou, for her sake, entertain'd my servant. Welcome ! at once receive me, and forgive me.
Farn. I had your promise, were this contract
void,
In honour, nor will take from my own merit To think, when your considerate thoughts come
home,
You can pretend excuse to your own happiness ; Which, lest you may suspect, let us in state Visit Paulina, and unmask that counterfeit Which hath usurped our name.
Ver. Sir, we attend you.
Con. This blessing must require a spacious soul ; Mine is too narrow to receive [it.] [Exeunt.
SCENE II.
An outer Room in the Castle. Enter Lucio and PIPEROLLO.
Luc. I am not yet created honourable.
Pip. Sir, things must have their time. But will
his highness
Remove so suddenly, and carry my lady To the court with him ? 'Tis a most sweet young prince.
*•!.] THE SISTERS. 417
Luc. Order was given to pack up her plate, Her gold, and jewels ; for he means to have Til tings and triumphs when he comes to Parma.
Pip. There it is fit we should expect our ho- nours ; I will attend the prince. [Exit.
Enter CONTARINI.
Con. Signior Lucio.
Luc. Your good lordship.
Con. Pray tell my lady I would kiss her hand, And shall present news will secure their welcome : I [now] come from the prince.
Luc. The prince, my lord ? He is within.
Con. A small march off the castle ; and com- manded
Me to prepare her, that he comes to be Her guest.
Luc. My lord,
I will acquaint some of the bed-chamber. But When did your lordship see his highness ?
Con. I left him at the park-gate.
Luc. This is the nearest way, unless his high- ness
Have leap'd a window, or can walk invisible ; Your lordship may have some conceit. I'll go, sir.
[Exit.
Re-enter PIPEROLLO*
Pip. What is the meaning that there's such a
guard
Upon our castle 1 His besieg'd, and no man Suffer'd go forth. [*«
This is some lord or other, by his stradlmg.
VOL. v. B e
418 THE SISTERS. [Act V.
Enter Lucio, LONGING, STROZZO, CASTRUCHIO, and the rest of the Banditti, as Lords.
Lon. From the prince ! That he ?
Pip. 'Tis as I tell you, sir ; there's a little array Surrounds the castle.
Lon. They have no order from his highness.
Stroz. We are betray 'd again.
Lon. Sir, would you speak with the prince?
Con. Why, have you such a thing within the
castle ?
Who dares be so much traitor, to usurp That title ? Where's that puppet, gentlemen ?
Luc. That is his secretary.
Pip. The rest are lords and privy counsellors.
Cast. We are undone.
Enter FARXESE, VEROERIO, ANQELLINA, and At- tendants.
Lon. 'Tis he ! the very he ! I dare not look on him. Oh, for an impudence worth a chronicle, To outface him now ! it were a possible thing, If people would believe.
[Exit, followed by the rest of the Banditti.
Luc. I'll tell my lady they are vanish'd. Hum ! I do not like that face. [Exit.
Farn. Come hither, fellow. Whom doyou serve?
Pip. I know not, sir.
Farn. What prince have you within ?
Pip. The prince of darkness.
Farn. What is this fellow ?
Pip. A knight o' the post ; the pestle is too ho- nourable.
Farn. Where is your excellent lady ?
Pip. I have a guess, If things go on, as I suspect, she will be —
Sc.lL] THE SISTERS. 419
Farn. Where ?
Farn. At her wits end, very shortly.
Farn. An ingenious fellow !
Pip. I have conversed A little with the mathematics, sir. Who is that gentlewoman ? not that I am ignorant, But to satisfy a doubt.
Ver. She is one that may be The prince of Parma's lady, when the priest Hath done his office.
Pip. If I be not mistaken, Here comes the princess ; that is Angellina, The younger sister.
Enter PAULINA.
Pau. It is my wonder you, that have the face And garb of gentlemen, should dare to be So insolent, to affront our person, and his, To whom your hearts and knees owe reverence,
Farn. Command the impostor forth. Seize on the traitors !
Re-enter LONGINO.
Lon. His grace will be here presently ; fear not,
madam.—
I would venture a neck-breaking at some window, And be content to crawl away a cripple ; But there's no hope to 'scape the multitude, That will be scrambling for my limbs. [*me?0.]—
Great sir, I challenge the privilege of the last bando : *
[Kneels.
He that can bring Frapolo, the chief bandit, Beside what other reward was proclaimed,
• ~— the fat bando 0 *• e. the laat proclamation. E2
420 THE SISTERS. [Act V.
Shall have free pardon for all past offences. To that grace I appeal, and here produce Frapolo.
Re-enter FRAPOLO, STROZZO, and the rest of the Banditti.
Pan. This amazeth me.
Fra. Can you stand
The dazzling sun so long, and not be struck Blind for this bold affront 1 What wildness brought
you,
In multitudes, to fright my happy peace, And this good lady's, my most virtuous consort?
Lon. He bears up still ! [Aside.
Fra. Have all my cares and watchings to pre- serve
Your lives, and dearest liberties, deserv'd This strange return, and at a time when most Your happiness is ccncern'd ? since, by our mar- riage
With this sweet lady, full of grace and beauty, You may expect an heir to bless your country.
Con. Will you suffer him ?
Fra. 'Tis time your prince were dead ; and when
I am
Companion to my father's dust, these tumults, Fomented by seditious men, that are Weary of plenty, and delights of peace, Shall not approach, to interrupt tne calm Good princes after death enjoy. Go home, I pray ; depart : I rather will submit To be depos'd, than wear a power or title That shall not all be dedicate to serve you : My life is but the gift of heaven, to waste it For your dear sakes. My people are my children, Whom I am bound in nature and religion To cherish and protect. Perhaps you have Some grievance to present ; you shall have justice
Sc. II] THE SISTERS. 421
Against the proudest here : I look not on Nobility of birth, office, or fortunes ; The poorest subject has a native charter, And a birthright to the laws and commonwealth ; Which, with an equal and impartial stream, Shall flow to every bosom.
Slroz. Pious Prince !
Farn. I am at a loss to hear him. Sure I am Farnese, if I be not lost by the way.
Pip. Stand off, gentlemen, — let me see— which? Hum ! this ?— no ; th' other? Hum ! send for a lion, and turn him loose ; he will not hurt the true prince.2
Farn. Do not you know me, sir]
Fra. Yes, I know you too well ; but it stands not with my honour. What composition ?
Farn. Who am I? —Gentlemen, how dare you
suffer This thing to talk, if I be your Farnese?
Fra. I say I am the prince.
Farn. Prince of what ?
Fra. Of rogues, an please your excellence.
Pau. How !
Fra. You must excuse ; I can hold out no longer. These were my subjects, sir ; and if they find Your mercy, Pm but one, whose head remov'd, Or noos'd, this lady will be soon a widow, Whom I have not deceiv'd. 'Twas her ambition To go no less than prince ; — and now you have one, During this gentleman's pleasure. \To Pau.
Pau. What scorn shall I become?
Farn. Let him be guarded, and all his puppet- lords.
Enter ANTONIO, FABIO, and MORUIXA. Ant. News ! news ! excellent news ! I shall leap
* The lion will not hurt the true prince.] A sneer at Shak- speare ! unnoticed by the commentators.
422 THE SISTERS. [ActV.
out of my flesh for joy. — Sir, I have undertook for your pardon to this reverend couple ; they heard my niece was to be married to the prince, and thought it treason to conceal —
Farn. What?
Ant. Paulina is not my niece, no blood of mine. Where is this lady and her pageant prince ? the truth is, she is not Paulina, but their own daughter.
Fra. Possible ! then we are both cheated.
Ant Whom she obtruded on our family When our Paulina died, an infant, with her, A nurse to both. Does your grace apprehend 1
Fab. We do beseech your pardon.
Ant. Now, Angellina, thou art heir to all.
Pip. By all this circumstance, you are but my sister !
Con. The prince is prov'd a prince of thieves.
Ant. Why, there's a baggage and a thief well
met then ! I knew she was a bastard, or a changeling.
Pau. Where shall I hide my shame? — O, curs'd ambition !
Ant. Give you joy, sir, my most illustrious ne- phew ! — Joy to thy invisible grace !
Fra. Thanks to our loving uncle.
Farn. Take hence the traitors !
Ang. Sir, I beseech a pardon to their lives : Let nothing of my story be remembered With such a tragedy ; 'tis my first petition.
Farn. I must notdenythee. — All thank her virtue. Live you, and love that gentlewoman. But It were a sin to innocence, and our honour, [And] would encourage treason by example, If they should 'scape all justice. Take them to
custody. —
Frapolo, we confine you to this castle, Where, if she please, your bride may accompany you,
Sc. II.] THE SISTERS. 428
Till we determine otherwise.
Fra. 'Tis some mercy : but I shall be getting children, and two nothings Will not maintain a family ; 'twere as gdod To hang me out o' the way ere charge come on, Or take away my tools : I shall be working.
Farn. Provision shall be made ; you shall not
starve, Nor surfeit, sir.
Ang. Because I calPd her sister, I will contribute something to their fortune.
Farn. What thy own goodness will direct. — And
now
Remove the scene to cojurt, to perfect there My own and Parma's happiness. Pride has Met with severe reward ; and that high justice, That governs all, though envy break with her Own poison, calls the amazed world to see What blessings wait upon humility. [Exeunt*
EPILOGUE.
SPOKEN BY FRAPOLO.
Gentlemen, do not say you see me. I have made an escape from the prince and Paulina; his grace's word is but mortal, and not security enough for me : for all this sunshine , he may hang me when I come to Parma, for an example ; and therefore 1 have chosen rather to trust to my legs, than a recon- ciled state enemy.
1 Twill not be worth your glory to betray A man distressed, whom your own mercy may Preserve to better service ; rather than Go back, I'll stand your justice, gentlemen. I've play'd the Thief; but you, as tie case stands, May save or kill, — my life's now in your hands.
THE
COURT SECRET
THE COURT SECRET.] This " Tragi-Comedy" was first printed in 1653, in the Svo. volume already mentioned. It appears from the title-page that it was tf never acted, but pre- pared for the scene at the Black-Friers." It was however brought forward, after the Restoration, as we learn from Lang- baine, who says, that it was played " after it appeared in print."
TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE
WILLIAM EARL OF STRAFFORD,
VISCOUNT WENTWORTH, BARON WENTWORTH OF WENTWORTH, WOODHOUSE, NEWMARSH, OVERSLEY, AND RABY.*
MY LORD,
J HE character of true nobility is sacred and indelible ; that your's is such, needeth no testimony, the world bearing witness to your honourable mind, upon which all other ac- cess of titles wait like ajair train of attendance , not orna- ments9 your own virtue giving them lustre, and entertain- ing them as rewards paid down to your person and merit.
This principle gave me boldness to make this approach to your lordship ; and not without some design in my am- bition, to renew myself to your smile, who have enjoyed the happiness, many years since, to kiss your hand, and to observe with admiration the beauties that shinedupon your youth, which, as they gained upon time, so they have groum above the prejudice of opinion, and improved their maturity by the earliness of their spring.
But my humble duty, my lord, at this fortunate hour to attend you, cometh not atone, it bringeth a present, such as my weak condition could reach to ; a poem, one that weareth no ribands in the forehead, not so much as war- ranted by applause ; for it happened to receive birth when the stage was interdicted, and wanted that public seal which other compositions enjoyed; though it hath been read and honoured with the allowance of some men, whose
* This well- written Dedication does equal honour to the pa- tron and the poet. William Earl of Strafford was the only son of Thomas, the great but unfortunate statesman ; he was re- stored to his lather's honours in 1641 , hut the subsequent troubles, probably, rendered a second act to that effect neces- sary in 1665. He died in l695> without issue.
opinion was as acceptable to me, as the vote of a smiling theatre.
But this is not to prescribe to your honour, whom I have by this application made my judge (should you wave the patron), and from whom there lies no appeal.
If your honour, descending from your higher contempla- tions, vouchsafe to look upon these papers, though your justice should condemn them, it would be their reputation to fall by so honourable a sentence. But if they happen to obtain your lordship's favour that they may live, your name will not only be a powerful defence to them, but a lasting record of honour upon the composer, whose heart is full of devotions to your lordship, and ambitious of no greater addition, than to be known,
My lord, Your most obliged, and
humble Servant,
JAMES SHIRLEY.
DRAMATIS PERSONS,
The king of Spain.
Roderigo, his brother.
Manuel, supposed son of Piracqtio, but the true Carlo, son to the king.
Antonio, prince of Portugal.
Carlo, supposed prince o/^Spain, but indeed Julio, the son o/'Mendoza.
Mendoza, a duke.
Piracquo, a nobleman.
Two Lords.
Pedro, a kinsman of Piracquo's, servant to Men- doza.
Celio, page to Carlo.
Gentlemen.
Attendants.
Castellano, or Oaoler.
Servants.
Messengers.
Guards.
Maria, the infanta. Isabella, sister to Antonio. Clara, Mendoza's daughter. Ladies.
SCENE, Madrid.
THE
COURT SECRET,
ACT I. SCENE I.
An Apartment in the Palace.
Enter at one door ANTONIO, leading in MARIA ; at another} two Lords.
1 Lord. The prince of Portugal, don Antonio —
2 Lord. He Courts our infanta close.
1 Lord. And may deserve her.
Enter MANUEL ; Maria drops a jewel ; he lakes it up, and offers it to her.
Man. Your grace — Mar. Tis none of mine, don Manuel. — Will your highness walk? [Exit with Ant.
1 Lord. Observe you that?
2 Gent. The prince Seem'd not well pleased.
Man. What doth the princess mean ? I saw it fall from her.
1 Lord. My eyes are witness- Noble don Manuel.
Man. My lords, your servant.
2 Lord. How do you like the Spanish court?
Although My lord, your father, were a native, yet
432 THE COURT SECRET. [Act I.
Your birth and education were abroad, Compell'd by your father's destiny.
Man. My unhappiness ! I have heard him say, some policies prevail'd, To make him leave this kingdom and his fortunes, To try his fate at sea ; till he found means To plant himself in Portugal, from whence He was but late reduced1 by the good prince, With promise of a pardon : and his honour Is full security for us.
1 Lord. The prince
Can do becoming things, and knows good acts Are in themselves rewards ; but the report Was here, that fifteen thousand ducats Were offer'd Roderigo, our king's brother, By your father, lord riracquo, to assure His reconcilement here, for trespasses He did at sea.
2 Lord. But not accepted.
I know not which will be his more vexation, To know the prince's act, restore Piracquo, Or so much money lost.
Enter CARLO and CELIO.
1 Lord. The prince ! Car. Don Manuel,
You are become a man of mighty business, Or I have lost some interest I had Since I left Portugal ; but I'll not chide. Where is the king ?
2 Lord. In his bed chamber, sir, With duke Mendoza.
Car. I'll not interrupt them. You may redeem your error, and we both Converse again. [Exeunt Car. and Cel
Man. You infinitely honour, And with it bind the obedience of your creature.
1 but late reduced] i. e. brought back.
Sc. I.] THE COURT SECRET.
433
1 Lord. Now he is going to his mistress
2 Lord. To Clara,
The duke Mendoza's daughter.
Man. Mistress ! Do you forget, my lord, the
treaty,
And his own personal contract, the kiss, warm On Isabella's lip, strengthen'd by the hope And expectation of another marriage, Betwixt Antonio and Maria, his sister?
1 Lord. We are us'd
To freedom here ; with as much innocence I may, perhaps, hereafter say, the princess Maria meant you honour, when she dropp'd A jewel. Sir, it cannot be much blemish For you to own her service.
Man. 'Twere an insolence (Beyond her mercy to forgive) in me, To think she meant it grace, or 1 apply it At such a distance of my blood and fortune. This in a whisper, but convey'd through court, Would forfeit me for ever : as you're honourable, Preserve me in my humbler thoughts.
1 Lord. Be confident ; And pardon my expression
2 Lord. Sir, your servant. {Exeunt Lords. Man. I have observ'd the princess scatter beams
Upon me, and talk language with her eyes
Sometime, such as I dare not apprehend
With safety, or religion ; for I find
My heart another's conquest. But the prince !
Why should he move my jealousy? I know
His amorous thoughts, already placed upon
Fair Isabella, must inhabit there,
And meet their just reward ; he cannot be
So careless of bis honour.
VOL. V,
Ff
434 THE COURT SECRET. [Act I.
Enter PEDRO.
Ped. Can you direct me, sir, to don Piracquo, Your noble father? I bring affairs concern him.
Man. You wait upon the duke Mendoza, sir?
Ped. I was first i' the number of those attended His duchess, while she liv'd ; his grace doth now Acknowledge me a waiting moveable, Within his family : my name is Pedro, A poor kinsman of your's, if you be, sir, My lord Piracquo's son, and might have been His heir, had not your mother been more fruitful At sea, before she died, who left you an infant; 'Twas something to my prejudice. But your father —
Man. Is in the privy garden, sir.
Ped. Your servant. [Exit.
Man. What means this fellow to survey me ?— Ha! Clara,
Enter behind, MENDOZA and CLAKA.
And her father, duke Mendoza ! I Must wish a time without his presence, to Confirm how much I honour her. Loud fame Speaks him a noble gentleman ; but of late (By what misfortune 'tis not known) he hath Some garbs, that shew not a clear spirit in him. But that his lady's dead, men would interpret His starts proceed from jealousy : I'll leave them, And wait some private opportunity.
[Exit — Mend, and Cla. come forward.
Cla. I must confess prince Carlo, sir, hath
courted me ; But with a noble flame.
Men. Flame me no flame, Unless you mean to turn our family
Sc. I.] THE COURT SECRET. 485
And name to ashes in the king's displeasure : Thou dost not know the prince as I do, Clara.
Re* enter behind, PEDRO with PIRACQUO.
Ped. Sure you have known me, sir ; I have ex-
pected Some time, when you would own me.
Pir. Your name's Pedro.
Ped. You thought me of your blood, sir, when
you promis'd
I should be your heir : I did a service for't Deserves your memory, not contempt, my lord.
Pir. Oh, thou didst well ; and though, as I then
stood
Proscribed, I wish'd it otherwise, I now thank Thy witty cozenage, and allow thy faith Religious to thy prince. Be honest still.
Ped. Honest ! you are mistaken ; 1 have been Honest to none but you, sir.
Pir. Be to thyself.
Ped. I know not what you mean by " witty co- zenage ;"
But to my danger, I may say, 1 did The feat as you desir'd ; you know I did : And 'tis my wonder, what we both projected, To make your own conditions for your pardon And safe return, after proscription, Hath not been worth your use so many years. Where is the prince ?
Pir. The prince? You are witty, kinsman.
Ped. Nay, if you slight me, sir, and pay my ser- vice
With this neglect, I can undo myself, To make you find repentance. [Offers to go.
Pir. Come nearer. [They whisper apart.
Men. Therefore, upon my blessing, if thou hast Such an ambitious thought, I charge thee leave it.
Ff2
436 THE COURT SECRET. [Act I.
Cla. Sir, you may spare these precepts. I have
not
Given away my freedom, or, by promise Of more than may become my duty, offer* d The prince an expectation : I am Not ignorant he is design'd a bridegroom To the fair Isabella, and it were Saucy injustice, to distract a blessing Now hovering o'er two kingdoms.
Men. Thou art wise ;
Preserve this duty. — Ha ! is not that Pedro 1 I do not like their whisper.
Cla. You look pale, sir.
Pir. Can thisbe truth? Was it prince Carlo, then, Without imposture, was delivered me1? Didst thou not cozen roe ?
Fed. If I be mortal, sir, It was my lady's art, for her own safety, To put this trick upon the court, which she Kept from ray lord, until, upon her death-bed, She made him overseer of the secret.
Men. Did he not name a secret? [Aside.
Cla. You are troubled.
Men. I? Thou art deceived.
Pir. Ha ! 'tis thy lord Mendoza.
Fed. He may take Some jealousy, if he observe our whisper.
Pir. Add, Pedro, but to this, thy future secrecy, Till I mature some act my thoughts now fix upon, And choose thy place within* my heart. Meet me —
[ Whispers him.
Fed. Enough, you seal the mystery again.
Men. Pedro, come hither. What did you whisper?
Enter a Gentleman.
Gent. Duke Roderigo, my lord, desires Your conference in the garden.
Sc. I.] THE COURT SECRET. 437
Pir. I'll attend him. {Exit, with Gent.
Fed. He is my kinsman, sir, and did salute me.
Men. I would thou wert his cousin ten removes, Pedro, as far as the two poles are distant.
Cla. My father need not fear prince Carlo now. I find another guest here ; 'tis don Manuel Holds chief intelligence with my thoughts. [Exit.
Men. Well, Pedra, Take heed, my life is in thy lips.
Ped. I know my duty, sir ; if you suspect, Command me to be dumb. Sir, you must trust me.
Men. I know not how to help it ; wait upon My daughter. — {Exit Ped.
I would my lady had liv'd, or died without Bequeathing me this legacy on her death bed, A secret to consume me. This servant, whom I dare not much displease, is all the witness Survives, sworn with the rest to secrecy ; And though I have small argument to suspect him, After so long a silence, yet I am Not safe to be at his devotion : I could soon purge him with a fig ;2 but that's Not honest. Was it ever known, a man So innocent should have so many agues ID'S conscience ? I am weary of the court ; I must have some device.
Re-enter PIRACQUO, with RODERIGO.
Duke Roderigo !
And don Piracquo ! they are whispering too ; This jealousy will take my brains a-pieces. [Exit. Rod. I have said, and now expect, my lord,
your answer.
Pir. I must acknowledge from your grace a favour,
* purge him with a fig,] i. e. poison him. See vol. i.
p. 141.
438 THE COURT SECRET. [Act I.
That you have been so clear and free with me ; I might have thought myself secure i' the dark And, ignorant of this expectation, Incurr'd your grace's jealousy.
Rod. I had always A firm opinion of your lordship's gratitude.
Pir. But for the sum, the fifty thousand ducats ; I must acknowledge, if your grace had mediated My pardon then with the good king, your brother, It had oblig'd my payment ; but my cause, Not worth your grace's agitation, Or breath, was, like a vessel struck upon Some shelf, without all hope t' have sail'd again , Had not the prince's mercy, when he came To Portugal, reliev'd it with a gale, And set my bark afloat.
Rod. The prince !
Why, doth your lordship think I had no part F the work of your repair? The power, and office I hold at court is not asleep, my lord, When any act of grace is done by the king.
Pir. I dare not do so much injustice to The prince's bounty, to divide and owe But half the benefit to his grace. I not Extenuate your prevalence at court ; but His highness did compassionate my exile, And I returned by his commands, my lord : I am his creature for it ; and shall sooner Lose what he hath preserved, my life and peace
here,
Than doubt his honour, or dispute his power In my behalf.
Rod. Sir, you are not safe yet ; There has pass'd no seal, I take it, for your pardon. You hang i' the air, not fix'd to the roof of heaven, As when you shin'd a star ; take heed you prove No comet, a prodigious thing snatch'cl up To blaze, and be let fall again upon
Sc. I.] THE COURT SECRET. 439
Their eyes, that so mistook the region Where you were placed.
Pir. I know, my lord,, your greatness, And hold it not becoming, to contest In language with you ; but I am confident — Rod. Of what?
Pir. And will wager, if your grace please, The t'other fifty thousand ducats, sir, That I'll not pay you a marvedi. If I may, On other honourable terms, possess Your favour, 1 shall meet your just commands ; But if you set such price upon your smile, After the prince's honour to secure me, I know myself, my fortune, and upon What strength I must depend.
Rod. I shall, my lord, Send you to sea again.
Pir. I made a shift, and may again, rny lord, Amongst the merchants. Rod. Pirate! Pir. Tis confess'd,
I was so ; but your grace may be informed I was not born to the trade ; I had a soul Above my fortune ; and a toy I took, To lose what was beneath my birth and titles, Or purchase an estate fit to sustain them : The sea was my exchequer ; for I thriv'd, I thank my watery destinies, and commanded Many a tall ship, won with so much horror, As possibly would have made your lordship, (had
you
But in a cloud, or airy scaffold, stood Spectator of our fight',) sweat out your soul, Like a thin vapour with the fright, and after Drop your forsaken body on our deck, To encretese the number of the dead.
Rod. But we May deal with you at land again.
440 THE COURT SECRET. [Act 1.
Pir. With reverence to
Your blood, as 'tis the king's, — with all my age, My wounds upon me, and that innocence, The prince's word hath new created in me, I do not fear —
Rod. Whom?
Pir. The devil.
Rod. I shall conjure down th[at] spirit.
Pir. Hell hath not art to keep it down.
Rod. So brave ?
Pir. So just.
Rod. Thou talking fool ! dost think I have no stings ?
Pir. I know you are a statesman, sir ; but he That fears with his own innocence about him, Deserves not a protection. [Going.
Rod. Piracquo,
Stay ; I now see thou hast a gallant spirit ; Let me embrace thee, and with this confirm An honourable friendship. I have not A thought so base to injure thee.
Pir. I have An easy faith, my lord.
Rod. Farewell, Noble Piracquo ; I have tried, and found thee.
Pir. I will not trust you for all this ; I know The devil's excellent at the hug* — [aside.} — Your servant. [Exit.
Re-enter on one side MANUEL and CLARA ; on the other MARIA.
Man. The princess !
Mar. I do not like his courtship there. — Don Manuel. [Man. leaves Cla. and goes to Mar.
Rod. So gracious with my niece! I'll make him
curse Those smiles. [Exit.
Sc. I.] THE COURT SECRET. 441
Cla. All is not well within me, and the princess Was never so unwelcome ; they confer With much delight, or else my fears abuse me. What hath she in the greatness of her birth, That I should be so passive ? Heaven look on Our hearts, and if my love want a degree Of noble heat, when they are both compar'd, Let what I carry be the funeral pile, And my own flame consume it. — Ha, the prince !
Re-enter CARLO.
I shall betray myself too soon, I fear.
Car. My sweetest Clara !
Mar. Either there were no ladies that could love In that court, or you could not want a mistress.
Man. They are not born with incapacity Of loving, where they find a worth t' invite : The fault was in my undesert, that could Attract no lady's grace to own me there, So inconsiderable a servant, madam.
Mar. There is some hope you will not be thought
here
Unworthy of a nobler character: I do not think but Clara hath a better Opinion of your merit.
Car. You cannot be so cruel. What could in My absence interpose, to make your heart Unkind to those desires at my return ?
Cla. My justice, and the care of both our ho- nours.
I have not lost, nor can time make me forfeit, (What nature, and the laws of heaven and earth Command me to preserve,) my duty, sir; What is above, would taste ambitious.
Car. This was not wont
Cla. If any of your smiles Or favours, sir, before, have led my tongue
442 THE COURT SECRET. [Act 1.
To unbecoming boldness, you have rnercy : Some things of error are exalted by Our bold belief, when princes make themselves But merry with their servants, who are apt To antedate their honour, and expound, In their own flattery, the text of princes. Car. But is all this in earnest ?
Re-enter RODERIGO and ANTONIO.
Rod. Is not that Don Manuel with the princess? Observe, sir.
Ant. They are pleasant.
Rod. Dare he presume?
Ant. Vexation !
Cla. While I have
The memory of what you are, a prince, And dare believe what is as true as talk'd of, Your contract, made in Portugal, to the princess Isabella —
Car. No contract, madam ; I confess, To please my father, who engag'd me to The travel, I did seem to court the princess, And with some shadows of a promise, might Advance her expectation ; but here I left my heart, and dare appeal to thine.
Ant. Madam —
Mar. Your grace's pardon but a minute.
Ant Sir— [To Manuel.
Mar. Nay, then, 1 shall repent I ask'd your pardon.
Ant. I have done, and will attend your grace's pleasure.
Mar. I am now at your commands.
[Exit with Ant.
Rod. Clara his mistress?
Car. Possible ! Was not that prince Antonio, uncle?
Sc. I.] THE COURT SECRET. 443
Rod. Yes, sir, and gone displeased ; He hath been affronted by that gentleman.
Car. He dares not be so rude.
Rod. He dares be insolent, and court your sister.
Car. How! my sister? Be less ambitious, Manuel.
Rod. Your favours have exalted him too much.
Car. But I can change my brow.
Rod. It does become you.
[Exeunt Rod. and Car.
Man. The prince did frown upon me, madam ;
you
Are wise, as well as fair, can you resolve The prince's riddle ?
Cla. Sir, I have no art To decipher mysteries ; but, if I err not, He nam'd his sister.
Man. Ha!
Cla. With caution you should be less ambi^ tious.
Man. 'Tis so ; he's jealous of my courtship there: It can be nothing else, can it, sweet madam I dare make you the judge of all my thoughts, Unbosom every counsel, and divest My soul of this thin garment that it wears, To let your eye examine it : if you find Within that great diaphanal an atom Look black, as guilty of the prince's anger, Let him doom me to death ; or, if that be Not punishment enough, be you more cruel, And frown upon me too. Cla. If I were judge,
Without such narrow and severe dissection, Don Manuel, of your heart, I should declare Boldly your innocence ; and rather than A frown of mine should rob your thought of quiet,
444 THE COURT SECRET. [Act I.
I would deprive mine eyes of what they honour, By a more cruel absence.
Man. But to be
Assured of so much charity, I could wish Myself in some degrees a guilty person, And stand the prince's anger ; but if I Be clear'd in your opinion, I dread not The malice of accusers. Yet, if you had Wav'd my integrity, I had an argument To have convinced you, madam, that Maria, Though sacred in her person, was to me No more enflaming than a piece of alabaster, Which somegreatmaster'shand had shap'd avirgin : For, if you dare believe me, you have won, By your virtue, here, so much dominion, There is no room to entertain a guest, Much less a competition. Oh, madam, I took so strange a charm in at my eyes, When first your presence made them happy, that To say I only lov'd you were profane, And would detract from that religious honour My heart in that first minute promised you.
Cla. I know not in what language, sir, to dress My answer ; but in that small skill I have, Sir, of myself, I am not guilty of Unkind rewards, where I can understand A fair respect invite them. Yet, if you But flatter, — for it is hard to say, when men Dissemble not at court —
Man. The curse of virgins, and What else can make a lover miserable, Feed on my heart, that minute I betray Your faith by any treason of my tongue ! I must not live with your suspicion on me : Why do you obscure your face ?
Cla. I do but hide, Sir, an unruly blush, that's stol'n into
Sc. I.] THE COURT SECRET. 445
My cheek ; I fear a spy, that hath discovered, And would tell what complexion my heart has. Pray leave me.
Man. That command
Received but faint commission from your heart, BJ From whence those am'rous spies, your blushes,
came :
It had a sound like virgins, when they teach A way to be denied. Pardon, sweet* madam, If I presume to interpret my own happiness ; Your eyes are not so kind to obscure themselves Behind that cloud ; they may behold me kiss
[He kisses her hand. Your hands with this devotion, and not Repent to be a witness. Did you not Feel a chaste trembling on my lip? With such A fear do pilgrims salute holy shrines, And touch the flesh of martyrs : but this circum- stance
Is but the pomp, no essence of affection ; Say, can you love me, madam ? If your tongue, Not us'd to such a dialect, refuse Articulate consent, a smile will make No noise ; speak that way : I will keep this hand, Both a white pledge and prisoner, till your eye Or welcome accent do redeem it from me ; Or, if you still be silent, I'll secure My fate, and teach your hand, without a voice, To chant a song to Hymen. [Sings.
What help of tongue need they require,
Or use of other art, Whose hands thus speak their chaste desire,
And grasp each other's heart f Weak is that chain thafs made of air,
Our tongues but chafe our breath, When palms thus meet, there's no despair
To make a double wreath.
446 THE COURT SECRET. [Actl.
Give but a sigh, a speaking look,
I care not for more noise, Or let me kiss your hand, the book,
And I have made my choice.
Weeping? 1*11 kiss those drops away.
Cla. Away!
Man. That echo was not sweet, yet being thine —
Cla. I am too much thine.
Man. There's no place for fears ; Love is the purest when 'tis wash'd in tears.
[Exeunt.
ACT II. SCENE I.
An Apartment in the Palace. Enter King and RODERIOO.
King. Dares he be so insolent already ! We Shall humble him.
Rod. He durst affront me, sir ; And when I urg'd the folly of his pride, Tell me, he knew himself, and on what strength He must depend ; words of a dangerous conse- quence.
King. My son hath been too forward.
Rod. He affects him strangely.
King. Whose undertaking must not bind beyond The rule of our own greatness.
Rod. Your son is full Of honourable thoughts ; but being young, May meet with subtle natures, whose oblique And partial ends want no dissembled forms
Sc. L] THE COURT SECRET. 447
Of duty to betray him. This Piracquo, In his experience of the world, hath art, And can from every accident extract A cunning use of time and dispositions ; And 'tis not to be doubted, but the man, Practis'd in storms and rapine, (by which he Hath drawn a wealth above your treasury,) May find a minute apt for his revenge Upon your justice. He that is a pirate, In the first act of spoil he makes, doth open His conscience at sea, and throws the key Into the waves.
King. He hath acquir'd a mighty wealth. Rod. But who
Can number their undoings and wet eyes, That have been robb'd? How many lives and
fortunes
Of your own subjects have increased the pile Of his estate and cruelty ? think o' that ; And if you can bring nearer thoughts, and look Upon yourself, your present sums are lean, Compar'd to what did swell your treasury. Your customs are less numerous, for his thefts ; And your great debts and charge upon your crown Are call'd upon, but drowsy with their weight, They make no answer to the kingdom's clamour. Some king, to whom the waves had sent a wreck So great upon his shore, would both secure, And call the timely benefit a providence. King. 'Tis not too late. Rod. Wise princes, that have law and strength
about them,
Must take all forfeits : he that is too tame In sovereignty, makes treason his own judge, And gives a patent to be disobey'd. / King. Let him be sent for straight. Rod. To hear him plead ! What traitor did want reasons of defence ?
448 THE COURT SECRET. [Act II.
Command him safe first; see his wealth seal'd up
Against the confiscation. Kings must act,
And not dispute their maxims. I could much
Amaze you, sir, with other argument
To prove Piracquo's insolence ; his son,
(And 'tis to be believ'd, in things of consequence
Their counsels often meet,) don Manuel,
Hath been ambitious to court Maria,
Your daughter, sir.
King. Unsufferable impudence !
Rod. Antonio too suspects him ; and what honour You can maintain with the prince, and what danger It may produce, if this resented, and Proclaim 'd, beget a war upon your country — For treaties are the immunities of kings. Subjects adulterate the prince's coin Not without high injustice ; but he that Doth play the wanton with his royal promise, Defaceth his own stamp, and teacheth,,by His violation, others not to trust him.
Enter ANTONIO and MANUEL, fighting, followed by several Lords.
King. Treason !
Man. Be fearless, sir ; I am provok'd Beyond the sufferings of a gentleman.
Rod. Where is the guard ? no mischief the
result Of such a skirmish !
Man. I was not made for 'servitude ; nor must I Have patience, when the greatest man in Spain, Whose title cannot challenge my subjection, Throws infamy upon me.
Ant. Do the kings Of Spain allow this saucy privilege Against a prince ?
King. Not we. — To prison with him !
Sc. I] THE COURT SECRET. 449
Enter Guard.
You shall be judge yourself, and set the punish- ment Upon his insolent act. Away with him !
Man. Not hear me 1 this is tyranny.
Rod. Away ! do you make a cipher of the king ?
[Manuel is guarded off.
King. May we Entreat to know the circumstance ?
Ant. I must
Acknowledge, sir, I had suspicion Of some attempts by him against my honour, Which made me first provoke him.
King. Dare he hope To keep a thought unpunish'd?
Enter PIRACQUO.
Pir. Sir, 1 met
My son, by yaur command led prisoner hence ; It will not unbecome your royal justice, To let me know his crime : I am no father To any sin he dares commit against Your laws or person.
King. You came in good time. — Another guard for him ! [Exit Rod.
Pir. A guard ! for what ?
King. You shall know that hereafter.
Ant. I shall beseech, my cause against don Ma- nuel
May not involve his innocence ; my lord Piracquo is full of honour.
1 Lord. The duke's gone.
2 Lord. Nay, he is right, at the wrong end of a
cause still. VOL. v. G g
450 THE COURT SECRET. \A& II.
Ant. If they be crimes against your state, I am
not
To prescribe your justice, sir. King. Away with him ! [Exit Guard with Pir.
Enter an Attendant, with a letter to ANTONIO.
Ant. To me ? I have seen this character.
[Exit Att.
Car. [within."] — Return him at my peril, sir. 2 Lord. What do you think of my lord Pirac- quo?
Enter CARLO with PIRACQUO, guarded.
1 Lord. I think he's gone to prison ; yet I think He's here again, if that be he ; for we are Not sure of any thing at court. — Now, my lord —
Pir. Do any of you know, my lords, wherefore I am under guard 1
1 Lord. Not we.
Pir. I could not satisfy the prince's question.
2 Lord. Your son's offence was an affront to the
prince Antonio.
Pir. That was not well ; 'twas some High provocation made him lose his temper.
1 Lord. They were at it with their swords. Pir. No hurt, I hope 1
2 Lord. The prince's feather discompos'd, or so. Pir. This was not my fault, gentlemen.
Car. Proclaim to the world I'm not your son ;
takeoff
Mine and your people's expectation, And then 'tis no dishonour ; for to be Believed the prince at the same time, and one That dares betray a gentleman from's sanctuary, To be a sacrifice at home, are things
Sc. I] THE COURT SECRET. 451
Of inconsistent nature, and destructive.
Charge him with new committed crimes, (since I
Gave him my word and honour to secure him,)
And there he stands, without an altar to
Protect him ; but far be it from the king,
To make it a new treason to be rich :
It will be thought your avarice to his wealth,
And read in story, to your shame for ever,
Piracquo died to pay your debts.
1 Lord. The prince Solicits hard ; the king inclines.
Car. I know
This doth not, sir, proceed from your own soul, But some malignant nature, that hath dropp'd, "And would infect your ear with wicked counsel ; 'Twas some malicious enemy to me, And to your fame, (as well as don Piracquo, His life and fortune,) hath conspir'd to make Me less than prince, and you unfit to be A king, when once men catch at your inconstancy. For I must pray you to remember, sir, I had your royal promise to confirm My undertaking for his facts at sea ; And, give me leave to say, sir, this dishonourable Retreat will stagger all your people's faith : A king to break his sacred word, will teach The great men to be safe without your service ; Who will believe your smiles are snares to catch Their fortunes ; and when once the crowd takes
scent Of this, you leave yourself no oath to swear by.
2 Lord. The prince bestirs himself bravely in
your cause.
Pir. 1 may do something to reward it one day. Sir, shall I speak ? not in my own defence ; For since I came to Spain, 1 have not been Guilty in thought of any breach of duty ; Nor for my son, if youth, or ignorance
Gg2
452 THE COURT SECRET. [Act II.
Have made him err : my humble knees beseech My cause may take no royal beam from him, That now is pleas'd to be my advocate, Your son, in whom there's such an active heat Of honour. Better all my blood was scatter'd, Than you should frown upon him ; but I know, If I had paid the duke, your brother, sir, But fifteen thousand ducats —
King. Ha! what then ?
Pir. I had bought ray peace, and been com- mended by His grace to your full pardon.
1 Lord. Boldly urgd.
Car. Was it his act 1
King. We restore thee, Piracquo, to thyself, and us ; and let Our largest pardon for all past offences Be ready for our signature : my brother, I'll promise reconciled too. — Carlo, thou Hast but confirm'd our hope ; nor did we purpose This other than a trial of thy temper, Thy gratitude, andv jealousy of thy honour : Preserve them still thus, Carlo ; nothing wants To fix our kingdom's joy, but the completing Thy marriage with the princess Isabella, Which shall be done by proxy, when Antonio Hath made his courtship perfect with thy sister. — Who saw the duke Mendoza? Send for him ; He doth too much absent himself.
[Exeunt all but Carlo.
Car. By proxy !
The duke Mendoza's counsel is too busy To advance that, and Clara is grown cold, Or seems so, in her cunning to provoke My flame ; but I must teach- her how to meet it. My father may be wrought to a consent When things are done. — Forgive me^ Isabella, My first thoughts cannot on thy beauty wait; I am not master of my love or fate. [Exit.
Sc. II] THE COURT SECRET. 455
SCENE II.
A Room in Mendoza's House.
Enter PEDRO.
Ped. Things are not now so desperate, whilst
my lord
Piracquo keeps possession ; but if 1 were Worthy to advise his lordship, he should not lose Much time to settle things. Secrets do burn.—
Enter MENDOZA. His grace ! Now for a fit of jealousy. I'll be here.
[ Walks aside, and listens.
Men. He's troublesome in my eye, and yet Jcanriot Endure him from my sight.
Ped. That's I.
Men. Methinks
He hath every day a more discovering look, There's scaffolds in his face : I shall prevent him, And send him far enough ; with the next fleet He goes ; the sea may roar, and crack the cabins, Or he may meet the calenture. I have heard Of hurricanoes that have torn up mountains ; One boisterous enough would strike his ship Clean through o' tother side to the Antipodes, And that would cure me : all my art must be, To win him to the voyage, and not stir His jealousy ; the knave is apprehensive.
Ped. Are you good at that ?
Men. I do not like his business with Piracquo, 'Tis for no good ; I'll break their correspondence. Piracquo has been honourable, yet I do not much confide in him. [Pedro comes for- ward.] He's here.
Come hither, Pedro.
454 THE COURT SECRET. [Act II.
Ped. Your grace's pleasure ?
Men. What consult Have you with don Piracquo ?
Ped. Please your grace, He hath been fishing ; some or other have Infus'd a scruple, I'll engage my life. But though he be my kinsman, and a lord I honour, and from whom I have receiv'd The promise of a fortune, and a great one, Yet 1 have said little.
Men. Hast said any thing ?
Ped. How could I choose, sir ! He did squeeze
me subtly ;
But I was wise, and faithful to your trust ; He knows no more than I, or you —
Men. Ha!
Ped Would wish him, sir; — let me alone to be cautious.
Men. Thou'rt honest, Pedro ; and I have been
studying
How to encourage and reward thy service, And I have thought of a preferment for thee.
Ped. Your grace was ever bountiful.
Men. A place Of honour and command.
Ped. That will do well, sir ; And shall I come in as your churchmen do, No first-fruits to be paid twice in a year ? No buying of a jewel at the rate Of fifteen hundred times the value, sir?
Men. Remove that care!
Ped. That care is well remov'd.
Men. I have consider'd, that to live at home, My servant, is to dark[en] thy abilities. That will abroad shine, and do services Worth Spain's acknowledgment.
Ped. Abroad ! Why* must I travel ?
Men. By any means.
Sc. II.] THE COURT SECRET, 455
Ped. Whither, an't please your grace?
Men. But to the Indies.
Ped. No farther ! Columbus did it in seven years, and less.
Men. In the next fleet thou shalt have an ejn-
ployment
Shall speak my care of thee, and interest With his Catholic majesty. He shall deny Me hard, but I'll prevail to make thee of His council there, and the state secretary.
Ped, This is a mighty honour.
Men. We may hold
Correspondence still by letters ; thou art wise : The king shall knight thee too of Calatrava. 'Howjvill it joy my heart to vvite to thee, Al senor illustrissimo don Pedro !
Enter Gentleman.
Gent. Sir, the king hath sent for you ? [Exit
Men. For me ?
Ped. Yes, sir ; I could have told your grace His majesty commanded your attendance.
Men. For what?
Ped. I know not that ; but I suspect There hath been some intelligence. However, Go, sir ; it may do worse, and argue guilt, To be commanded twice.
Men. Intelligence! It will be worth my safety to confess.
Ped. By no means, [good] sir; that simplicity Would rather become me.
Men. Why, wilt thou confess ?
Ped. Not unless you begin. Go, sir, an't be But to prepare his majesty for me To wear the order of the Calatrava :
456 THE COURT SECRET. [Act II
You have put me, sir, into the gad * of going This Indian voyage.
Men. Well, I must to the king.
Fed. Shall I attend you ?
•Men. Yes — no— do what thou wilt: yet, now I
think on't, Twill be as well to go — yet do not, neither.
Ped. Be cheerful, sir. Why doth your head shake so?
Men. My head !
Ped. It trembles, like the needle of a snu-dial ; Do you not feel it ?
Men. Hah ! yes, 'tis here ; but do not breathe
upon me ;
I feel the very wind of thy words blow it To and again, like a weathercock : but I must go.
Ped. I will prepare myself [, sir,] for this voyage. Forget not the Calatrava.
Men. 1 would thou wert shipp'd. [Exit.
Ped. And sunk. — It shall go hard but I'll requite your lordship.
[Exit.
SCENE III.
Another Room in the Same. Enter CLARA and Servant.
Cla. A prisoner, say'st?
Serv. Tis a confirmed report.
Cla. I fear prince Carlo's jealousy is cause Of this. Poor Manuel ! it will not be Safe, or seem honourable, for me to visit him :
« You have put me, sir, into the gad of going] The old copy reads gang, which was, probably, corrupted from the following word. I can think of nothing better than gad, an eager fit, of going.
&. III.] THE COURT SECRET. 457
But since I cannot suffer with him, he [Exit Serv. Shall hear I dare confine myself to sorrow.
Re-enter Servant.
Serv. Madam, the princess Maria is coming up the stairs.
Cla. I must dissemble now my grief, and meet
her ; yet
I may entreat her grace's mediation To the king for his enlarge.
Enter MARIA.
Mar. Let us be private. — [Exit Serv.
If e'er thou lov'dst me, Clara, now express it. Cla. I have an humble suit to your highness,
which,
In hope to prosper, will direct my faith And services, to what you can prescribe me : Speak your commands.
Mar. Don Manuel stands committed by the king, And I would have thy counsel, how I should Best work his liberty.
Cla. That, madam, is All my petition to your grace.
Mar. I know my least desire let fall to the prince Antonio, were enough to engage, and make him The orator to effect it ; but in honour I would not contrive him the means, and instru- ment
To advance his rival's liberty. Cla. Rival, madam!
Mar. For I must tell thee, Clara, and with it Give up the secret of my soul, I love Don Manuel, I fear, better than myself.
Cla. You do not mock me, I hope, madam * Mar. No;
458 THE COURT SECRET. [Act II.
By all that ladies once in love do pray for, By him thou lov'st, whoe'er he be, and this Kiss (that I rather wish on Manuel's lip, Would modesty and honour ^ive it privilege, And durst entrust thy faith to carry it to him, In my experience of thy virtue, Clara,) I speak no fable.
Cta. It becomes my truth To answer your's, though not so cheerfully. I should not much repent, to carry, madam, Your kiss to Manuel ; but, I fear, I should Forget who sent it. If you have a plot, To raise mirth from ray weakness, when you know How much my heart is his, I yield myself Your triumph, madam ; but the glories of Your blood and title are not price enough To buy him from my thoughts, could you invest My name with their possession.
Mar. Doth she love him ? I have destroy 'd my own hope, then, [aside.]- —
Alas!
Poor Clara, I must pity thee ; and for that Love that hath been between us, I'll apply To cure thy wound ; for mine is not so desperate, Though I bleed inwards, I confess, since he, Whom I esteem best, suffers for Maria.
Cla. Suffer for you? Pray, madam, clear this mystery.
Mar. It is poor Manuel's fortune to affect Me with a passion great as mine ; and love, That, like a rebel forageth our soul, And can obey no law but what it likes, Impatient that Antonio lov'd me too, Made him forget the prince, and give the affront For which he suffers in the king's displeasure.
Cla. No repetition of this story, madam, Lest you destroy all my belief in virtue. It cannot be ; you may as soon persuade
Sc. III.] THE COURT SECRET. 459
That snow, (the innocent fleece of heaven,) that's
borne
Upon the fleet wings of some sportive wind, Is Ethiop's wool, as call this truth.
Mar. This will be rudeness, Clara, if you do not Convince, and with more reason, and with temper. And 'tis no little wonder, that when I Have fairly thus disclos'd my thoughts of Manuel, You should retain a murmuring thought, and dare Pretend rivality with me.
Cla. The law
You gave to love, that stoops to no prerogative Of birth, or name, (mine only a degree Beneath your own,) will answer your disdain, And justify my passion ; and if reason And temper (which in vain you think are lost In me) be assign 'd judges, I dare more Than say I love, I can deserve him —
Mar. Better? Fate bring it to a trial !
Cla. So just are my affections, I dare make A saint my judge.
Mar. That judge you make, is not A friend to so much pride.
Cla. You are but my Accuser, madam.
Mar. This affront 1 must Remember, Clara, and find time to teach You know me better.
Cla. Madam, as you are The princess, I can fall thus low, to kiss Your hand, and pay all duties that become me, Or your command ; but if you think, by being Great, I must own no passion,, but in what Degree you are pleas'd to fix it, nor compare My soul, born with its freedom to affection, With your's, because one shaft hath wounded both, I rise my own defender.
460 THE COURT SECRET. [Act II.
Mar. Thy own ruin, For this presumption.
Cla. I'll not bribe your mercy ; When you can love as I do, we may both Deserve him equally. — Oh, Manuel ! {Exit Mar. Though I defend thy honour to the princess, Yet [she] hath scatter'd seeds of jealousy About my heart : — if this ground fertile prove, I will not curse his faith, but my own love. {Exit
SCENE IV.
A Prison. MANUEL discovered.
Man. Why should we murmur to be circum-
scrib'd,
As if it were a new thing to wear fetters, When the whole world was meant but to confine us ; Wherein who walks from one clime to another, Hath but a greater freedom of the prison ? Our soul was the first captive, born to inherit But her own chains, nor can it be discharg'd Till nature tire with its own weight, and then We are but more undone to be at liberty.
Enter CARLO.
The prince ! he brings a storm ; I see it rising, As seamen do, the wind far off.
Car. Don Manuel.
Man. You have nam'd a suffering man; but
one that holds
His life and death at such an even rate, No matter which is first employ'd with honour. I dare submit me to your justice, sir. t *
Sc. IV.] THE COURT SECRET. 461
Car. Your cause would droop to trust to that.
My love,
Willing to justify the choice it made Jn thee, hath pleaded better, and prevail'd With me to bring thee counsel to redeem Thyself becomingly.
Man. Your goodness flows still ; 'Twas not the prince that frown'd.
Car. Submit yourself To prince Antonio.
Man. Submit myself!
Car. Ask him forgiveness.
Man. I must be guilty first of an offence, Ere my tongue be so base, and ask a pardon.
Car. Then I must chide you, Manuel. Deny This trivial satisfaction ! your crime Will, upon second thoughts, be much enlarg'd, Nor will the prince be ever thought to merit His birth and name, unless he kill thee for it ; *Tis an affront of so supreme a nature.
Man. Hath it no name, sir ?
Car. Dost not shake to ask it ? Are you, sir, a fit rival for the prince ? Abstract that she's my sister ; which considered, Carries so vast a guilt against the king's, Mine, and Maria's honour, all thy blood Mix'd with repentance cannot purge. You are Instructed, sir.
Man. Not yet, to know myself Conscious of any action should contract The prince's brow, oryour's, much less deserve The horrid name of guilt against the king's, Your's, and Maria's honour.
Car. Did not you, sir, court My sister ?
Man Never, sir.
Car. Do not you love her ?
Man. Heaven in that word includes all thatweowe
462 THE COURT SECRET. [Act II.
His precept. 'Tis my justice, sir, to love her ; But with a greater distance than she is From me remov'd by birth ; and if her smile, Meant the reward of my attendance, sir, At any time have met with false observers, Their tongues, and no audacious thought of mine, Or application, are in fault: I have, Beside the lesson of my birth, been taught A piety from your favours, sir, to know Myself their creature, and with humble thoughts To shew my gratitude, not proudly assume (Could she descend) a courtship to Maria, Who, by the king, and every good man's vote, Is meant a sacred pledge to Portugal, To chain two kingdoms.
Car. If this, Manuel, Be truth—
Man. Without condition of my liberty, Or dread of what Antonio shall attempt In his revenge, my sou) dare with an oath Confirm it at the altar.
Car. This doth please me.
Possess thy first place in my friendship, Manuel ; Antonio shall embrace thee too ; his ear And mine have been abus'd.
Man. There was
A providence upon our swords, that meant Less fatal than his passion shew'd, when we Last met, against whose weapon, threat'ning me
first,
The safety of my fame, more than my life, Call'd up my just defence.
Car. I do believe thee. To what a loss of virtue, and of blood, Credulity engageth ! This shall be No more thy dwelling ; prince Antonio Shall, for thy honour, make it his own act, Who yet believes thy interest in Maria,
Sc. IV.] THE COURT SECRET. 463
Hath made his courtship vain, and will, I fear
Not presently admit thy innocence
Into his quiet faith ; but I'll convince him.
Man. If he but knew my heart, he should not
need
Much argument ; no man can love with honour, And let his thoughts divide upon two mistresses'. I have contracted love —
Car. With whom? May Time, When this world fails, and Nature grows decrepit Present it to eternity !
Man. This prayer
Opens my heart, and all the wealth within it, Commands me draw the curtain from her name, That you may read my Clara ; and 1 shall Beseech your grace's smile.
Car. Your Clara? what! The duke Mendoza's daughter?
Man. You have nam'd her.
Car. No ; I am in the dark still. Speak again, Or, rather say, thou hast mistook ; it is Some other Clara, and not the lady I understand.
Man. Life cannot bribe me with another wealth Or death, with all his horrors, make me desert That name.
Car. What a strange sea- breach has This little storm of breath made here already ! I was taking pains to unconcern the jealousy Of Antonio, and find him my own rival. — [Aside, Thou hadst been kinder to have lov'd Maria, My sister, though Antonio had sworn Thy death, and the king's anger, with my own, Had metthee like a torrent, than presum'd This interest in Clara.
Man. I see no Such mighty danger in't.
Car. I'll tell thee, Manuel, Thou hast invaded all my joys ; I love her.
464 THE COURT SECRET. [Act II.
Man. Honour forbid it, sir !
Car. Honour's a dream ; And a cold everlasting sleep must chain My soul up ; for if once it wake, and know What thou hast torn from *t, it will vex itself Into a flame, and turn thee into ashes.
Man. Never till now unhappy ! with my weight I see myself now bearing down before me, A rotten part of some prodigious mountain, Into the sea, with which I shall soon mingle.
Car. Collect thyself betimes, and give her back, Unsullied, with thy claim ; release thy own, And with her, every thought as much a virgin As her soul was, when first I courted her, Or thou art lost.
Man. With greater justice, sir, Command to uncreate myself, as call My faith or heart again.
Car. How !
Man. Sir, my life,
The cement that doth hold this frame together, You have power to melt; or but command my
exile,
And I may live far off, and be forgotten By all, but Clara ; but to ask that back, Which, with the full consent of heaven, I gave her, (And in exchange receiv'd her equal vow,) I dare not ; or, if 1 had will, to be So false to honour, 'tis within my heart So rivetted, I may with as much innocence Commit a rape or murder, as attempt it.
Car. You have, no doubt, a valour too, that dare Love with so fierce a resolution.
Man. When I am master of my sword, I dare Not draw it against you ; but he that lives Beneath you, may have little time to wish Himself unmade, that would divorce us.
Car. Leave me, leave me. — [Exit Man.
Sc. IV.] THE COURT SECRET. 465
How many loves are shaken with one tempest !
And if one suffer, ruin'd all ! I know
The faith be bears me, and tKe reverence
He gives my blood, will never be provok'd
To fight against my person ; but I must not,
By tameness, give myself a public wound :
He shall be master of his sword and freedom,
And then let fate determine. — Clara must
Be mine, or make a bridegroom of his dust. {Exit.
ACT III. SCENE I.
An Apartment in the Palace. Gentlemen of prince Antonio , preparing a banquet.
1 Gent. Prince Carlo's not come yet.
2 Gent. My lord Piracquo,
And his son Manuel, are expected too.
1 Gent I wonder at this hasty reconcilement. We did imagine it as possible
The two poles should have met, as they together, Friends at a banquet.
2 Gent. In my opinion, peace, and wine, and
music,
Are more convenient for the natural body, Than swords or guns.
1 Gent. And for the politic too,
If men were but so wise to like, and cherish Their own estates. If I had al 1 the plate In the Indies, I'd not give a silver spoon To have my head cut off.
2 Gent. Why is not the great duke, Kodengo,
here? VOL. T. H h
466 THE COURT SECRET. [Act Ml.
1 Gent. Who? the king's evil genius? He was Invited, but excus'd himself.
2 Gent. Why, there's
A statesman, that can side with every faction ;
And yet most subtly can untwist himself,
When he hath wrought the business up to danger !
He lives within a labyrinth ; some think
He deals with the devil, and he looks like one,
With a more holiday face.
1 Gent. But he hath so behav'd himself, That no man now dare much confide in him. They are come. [Music within.
Enter ANTONIO, CARLO, PIRACQUO, and MANUEL.
Ant. Don Manuel, the prince hath made me
know My error, and your worth.
Man. He has too much honoured me ; And you have reason to command, for this, The service of my life.
Ant. You are not pleasant, sir. [to Carlo.] — My
lord Piracquo.
Per. Your highness' humble servant. Car. All is not
Reconciled here ; I but suppress a flame, To give it vent more dangerous. [Aside.
Ant. A free welcome
To all ! Sit, and some wine : this music is not Sprightly enough. To his majesty of Spain !
[Drinks. Pir. He that doth pledge the king's health with
a murmur, May his next thirst inflame him to drink poison !
[Drinks.
Car. The king hath a true servant in Piracquo. Man. He that is not, had never sense of honour ;
Sc. L] THE COURT SECRET. 467
And may he perish, all but soul, that dares Harbour a thought disloyal ! To your highness.
[Drinks.
Ant. Give me another —
This wine looks cheerful as my heart,— to drink The princess, fair Maria's, health. [Drinks.
Car. My turn Will come, sir, to be grateful.
Ant. Here, my lord.
Pir. May swift time perfect, by your sacred loves, The happiness of both kingdoms ! [Drinks.
Man. May that day,
That seals your glorious Hymen, sir, be ever Holy within our calendar, and beget A faith, that all things then begun may prosper !
[Drinks.
Ant. I thank thee, Manuel.
Car. Sir, you may
Believe don Manuel's language and his heart Are twins ; they bear one date of time, and sense. You must how give me leave, sir, to requite you In part. A health to the king of Portugal ! Let it move this way, Manuel. [Drinks.
Man. It shall,
With humble thoughts, be entertained —you ho- nour me.
Pir. It is but justice, Manuel ; for when Spain Would not acknowledge, nor allow us being, Onr lives were welcome there, till better stars Sent him, to whose bounty we owe all that's left us.
Car. No more o' that, my lord ; I am very con- fident,
In any honourable cause, you dare Express your faith to me ; and for your son, We two have been companions. I dare say Our hearts are touch'd by one magnetic virtue, And such a sympathy, I cannot wish, What's dearest to me, but he flies t' embrace it.
Hh2
468 THE COURT SECRET. [Act III.
Man. I like not this. [Aside.
Car. Manuel, begin a health. We have had my sister's and the king's already ; Name your own mistress for the next.
Man. I should
Conclude her worthy of remembrance, sir, If one were first preferred. Will your grace please To Jet me have the honour?
Ant. Come, to me.
Mar. To the white hand of fairest Isabella !
[Drinks.
Ant. Would she were Present to thank you, Manuel.
Car. 'Tis an affront ; as Clara were his own Already? — ha! civility and honour Prescribe me patience. Dares he insult. — [Aside. When this hath had the ceremony, Manuel, *T shall be my office to remember Clara ; I must have time to quit the favour, sir. You've done ray mistress. In your ear ; though I Was pleased to reconcile you to the prince, And order your enlargement, Clara must Be mine, or one of us be nothing. You May think on't yet.
man. I have, sir; and to shew How much I can obey, and that I have not Intruded like a thief upon your treasure, And filch'd her heart away, 'tis now within Her choice again : if you prevail upon Her kinder thoughts, 1 can sit down despis'd.
Car. Thou art my best friend now. — Antonio, Methinks we are not pleasant. — If she should Be a little obstinate, it would become, And speak the bravery of thy soul and service, To use some language for me ; wilt thou, Ma- nuel ?
Thou dost not know the sufferings of my soul For Clara.
Sc. I.] THE COURT SECRET. 469
Man. But I pity them.
Car. 'Tis new balsam
Into my wounds. — Where is the health, Piracquo ? I feel new spirits dancing in my blood. The health begun to Clara languisheth ; Why should I want it, gentlemen ?
Ant. It was nam'd, By Manuel, to my sister Isabella : Prince Carlo, you forget.
Car. To Isabella!
Your grace's pardon, I confess my error ; I forgot her indeed ; but could your wishes Translate that princess hither, she should be A' witness of my honourable thoughts.
[Music within.
Enter ISABELLA with Ladies.
What magic's this ? Do any know that face?
Pir. }Tis very like the princess Isabella.
Car. I would she were a ghost!— Antonio, Have you got enchantments ? [Rising.
hob. You may stay, sir.
Car. I love not to converse with spirits.
Man. Sir, This is no shadow.
Car. It is to me, sir. Meet me at Clara's, or be lost to honour. [Exit.
Isab. It was your counsel, brother, that reserv'd
me
For this first entertainment !— My good lord Piracquo, and don Manuel, you seem not So much affrighted as the prince.
Pir. A devil
In such a shape could never fright me, madam: But persons of your quality shift not so Much air without a noise ; the motion Of princes has much rumour to attend it.
470 THE COURT SECRET. [Act III.
Isab. I chose to come so private ; I arrived The city but last evening.
Man. You have much Honoured Madrid.
Isab. Why, how now, brother ! are You frighted too ?
Ant. Yes ; and do sweat at soul, To see ourselves neglected.
Isab. Some are not Fortified 'gainst a sudden accident. In my desert and innocence, I can Interpret nothing yet in my dishonour ; Since joys have ecstasies sometimes, and with Their rapture may transport our senses from us, As soon as any other passion. Besides, I heard him wish me here, a witness Of honourable thoughts ; he has but now Remov'd his person^ to acquaint the king, With greater preparation, to receive A guest so unexpected.
Pir. But I like not The prince's humour. You Had whisperings, Manuel, I observ'd.
Man. 1 shall Keep nothing, sir, in clouds from you.
Ant. Thou shall
Direct me, Isabella. — Well to court, My lord Piracquo, Manuel.
Isab1. How [so] e'er I put a valiant brow on his neglect, And seem to make a gloss in his defence. My soul is sick with fear. [Aside.
Ant. Come, Isabella.
Pir. We both attend your grace. [Exeunt.
Sc. II.] THE COURT SECRET. 471
SCENE II.
An Apartment in the Palace. Enter RODERIGO.
Rod. My engines want success : Piracquo is Restor'd to his full being, and his son At large, and reconciled by Carlo's act. My nephew had been better to have wak'd A sleeping dragon, than have cross'd my aims; He has rescued them, but drawn upon his bosom As many wounds as policy, and my Revenge can make. I was too tame, to strike At useless shrubs, that hinder not my prospect ; My thoughts should have no study but a kingdom, It is my heaven ; and this young cedar spread Betwixt my eyes and it. I have already Betray'd his love to Clara ; and the king, That hath made up an idol to himself Of honour, is inflam'd to my own wishes. I know the prince will be impatient, To hear his mistress toss'd by the king's anger, And he may leap into some disobedience, That may be worth my second charge to sink him ; And then Piracquo, Manuel, and the kingdom, Shall stoop to my devotion : yet I carry A smiling brow to all, and please the king, To think I am reconciled. — My nephew !
Enter CARLO.
Car. Where is the king1?
Rod. Where I left him, displeas'd, and was now
coming
To prince Antonio's lodgings, to acquaint you— Car. With what?
472 THE COURT SECRET. [Act\ll
Rod. Have you contracted love with duke Men-
doza's Daughter, the lady Clara?
Car. What officious Tongue hath been bold to mention her ?
Rod. He has
Had some intelligence, and is almost grown Wild with the strange resentment : I, not knowing What to object against his passion, thus Surpris'd,you may believe, applied what lenitives My understanding could collect o' the sudden ; With confidence, when you came to give account, The accusation would fall off, and he Appear too credulous against your honour.
Car. It were no treason to Castille, my lord, If I confess'd this mighty fact.
Rod. 'Tis justice, If you do love her honourably, to avow it.
Car. Isabella is no angel.
Rod. Nor is Clara Of an extraction to disgrace a prince.
Car. [Although he be my father, he did not Beget my soul. Who's with him ?
Rod. I left the duke Mendoza.
Car. Has he made
Complaint of me ? 'tis well : let me preserve, Good uncle, still your loving thoughts ; it is In vain to move my father DOW.
Rod. There is
A way, if you could but dissemble, sir, To set your wishes right ; and letters may Be so contrived to Portugal.
Car. The princess Is here already, uncle.
Rod. Isabella?
Car. Now with Antonio, and I am lost.
Rod. Would thou wert never to be found again !
[Aside.
Sc. II.] THE COURT SECRET. 473
Car. I must do something.
Rod. The princess, thus Affronted, may be worth my own ambition. —
[Aside. Calm thoughts attend you, sir. [Exit.
Enter MENDOZA, behind.
Men. I'm glad I came so well off from the king, His anger made me tremble ; 1 was jealous Of more discovery, when he nam'd the prince : This treason is a kind of a quotidian, It leaves a man no interval. I durst Not mention Pedro at all, for fear The king had skill in cabala. I'm afraid There's something in the very name, that may With a small key be open'd to my danger, -av/ Car. You are well met, my lord. Do you know
me? Men. [coming forward.]— Know you, sir? yes,
I know you for — Car. For what ? Men. The prince, I hope. — Now I'm betray'd
for certain ; Yet, if he know it, he will not be so furious. [Aside.
Car. Are you so much an enemy to yourself, To tell the king?
Men. I tell the king ! Alas, I dare not tell it to my ghostly father ; I have more regard to you, and my own life : My family's undone by it. Car. By what, sir ? Men. Nay,
If you know not, I know not neither, sir. What do you mean ?
Car. Am not I worthy, in your opinion, Your daughter Clara's love, —
Men. Oh, is that all ? [Aside.
474 THE COURT SECRET. [Act III
Car. But you must dote, and tell the king of it ? Men. I? I disclaim it, by my life and honour. Car. I thought you had lov'd me, sir. Men. He is a traitor That dares accuse me. — Now I may speak boldly. —
My blood and fortune have a little name F the world, to which, make an addition of My life, my daughter Clara too, were these In balance against you, they would be light, And their whole loss repaired, to see you happy. If this be false, a whirlwind snatch me, sir, And let me hang in some prodigious cloud, 'Twixt earth and heaven.
Car. This is a bold expression.
Men. But I must tell you, sir, for your own sake, I would not have you love my daughter Clara, Were she in beauty, person, and all ornaments, Fortune and nature could bestow, more excellent Than Isabella.
Car. Why, an't please your wisdom ?
Men. Sir, in my love to you, and Isabella, My duty to your father, and the kingdom ; Nay, for my daughter's sake, and all my hope Of after joys, and for one other reason Above all these, which I conceal ; — yet I Complained not to the king.
Car. Excluding me, Your grace can be content don Manuel Should have your daughter.
Men. Rather than your highness : I know a reason for't.
Car. I must so too.
Men. Your grace Shall pardon me at this time.
Car. I will not, sir.
Men. If you'll needs have it, I have made a vow I will not ask my daughter's blessing, sir.
Sc. II.] THE COURT SECRET. 475
If you two meet, and marry, she may live To be a queen, and then I'll kneel to her, Which is not in the oath of my allegiance. Car. The old man raves.
Enter King and MARIA.
Men. The king ! [Exit.
Car. He shall not see me, Till I know all my fate. [Exit.
King. How do you like the prince Antonio ?
Mar. Sir, If you allow me freedom —
King. You enjoy it.
Mar. His person, blood, and expectations, are High as the wishes of a queen ; and I, With pious gratitude, acknowledge all My duty, and my prayers a just return To your great care ; but give me, sir, your pardon, If I prefer some thoughts that prompt me to A better choice.
King. A better choice ! Look back Upon that character your breath but now Delivered in his honour.
Mar. I confirm it.
But when you hear me humbly beg I may Perform religious duties, sir, to heaven, You will think nature hath a place beneath them. If 1 could find any consent to marriage, Antonio would prefer himself the first To my election ; but if you were pleas'd—
King. You would be a nun?
Mar. That hath express'd my wishes.
King. So I should
Affront the prince. How long, Maria, has This fit of your religion held you ? Ha ! No more, lest I suspect this a pretence To hide your love, placed otherwise unfitly. If I find where your heart is wand'ring —
476 THE COURT SECRET. [Act III.
Mar. It knows obedience better, and your name . Than to choose any path leads not to honour.
King. I must direct it then to love Antonio. — My children are turn'd rebel.
*Mar. Sir, I hope
My offer, with your leave, to dedicate My life to prayer, and virgin thoughts, will merit A better name.
King. Your brother, Carlo, too, Will find himself at loss, if he collect not Hin>se\f, <md make our royal promise good To Isabella : while my studies are To make the kingdom firm by our alliance With Portugal, he courts the lady Clara.
Mar. I would she were his bride, so I had Ma- nuel 1 [Aside.
King. And you, at the same time, and height of
both
The kingdoms' expectations, would take a cloister. Is this to pay obedience to a father, Whose cares have kept him 'wake to make you happy ?
Mar. Goodness forbid, that Carlo, or Maria, Should move you to just anger.
King. This is virtue.
Enter a Lord, and whispers the King.
Mar. He is passionate ; and love, that makes all
ladies
Apt, and ingenious to contrive, cannot Inspire, or help me with an art, to advance A little hope.
King. It cannot be ! — Maria, We are surprised ; the princess Isabella Is privately arrived, and come to court. — Where is our son ? All should prepare to meet her. [Exeunt.
Sc. HI.] THE COURT SECRET. 477
SCENE III.
A Room in Mendoza's House. Enter CARLO and CLARA.
Car. You may believe I trifle not.
Cla. The princess Isabella come ?
Car. Now, if but Clara think I honour her, And instantly accept what I am willing, In presence of the priest and heaven, to give her, The ceremony waits to make all perfect.
Enter MANUEL.
Cla. I dare not, sir.
Car. Say but. you love, and that will teach you
valour.
I bring not only proof of my own loyalty, Which, if examin'd, must invite thy faith, But thy security, a release from Manuel ; His soul is on my side, and comes to render, In pity of thy wound, a balm into Thy breath : be gentle, Clara.
Cla. A release ! Of what?
Man. Of all thy promise hath made mine. Observe me wisely, Clara, and distinguish, As far as honour will permit, how long, And with what bleeding thoughts, the prince
affects thee :
For I have look'd into his soul, and back Upon the feeble merits of myself, And therefore giving thy own vows again, 1 disengage their strength, to bind thee, Clara; And to that sweetness thy first bosom had, Remit thy quiet thoughts. Car. Thou'rtjust.
478 THE COURT SECRET.
Cla. Pray give
Me leave to understand this mystery. " To give me back all those assurances Of love my promise made!" I'll not dispute For what unworthiness I am neglected. Man. I dare not be so impious. Cla. Then here I take my liberty again. Man. You have it.
Cla. Now I, with safety of my honour, may Choose where I please? Man. You may. Cla. And you desire it ? You have power, I must confess, to give me from
you
Into my own possession, but no title Now to direct my heart. Then, though I meet My own despair, here I give Clara back, And with new vows, as strong as my religion And love can make, contract myself again To death, or Manuel. Car. A conspiracy !
Cla. I have resigned no interest in him, And by new choice — am not my own again.
Car. So, so! It is as possible in our destinies We should enjoy her both, as live together, When Clara is thy bride.
Cla. That sound was tragical. Oh, call those fatal words again, and think That if, with safety of my faith, I cannot Meet your desires already, you will force My soul to greater distance, by destroying What most I love. I know you do but fright me. Man. If I be mark'd for your revenge, I dare not Think you will stain your honour, to contrive My death ignobly. [They whisper.
*Cla. What was that he mention'd? — Sir, by your name and blood, I charge you hear me,
Sc. III.] THE COURT SECRET. 479
By these, your rage compels, a virgin's tears. I can kneel too, take your revenge on me ; 'Tis I that have offended. For your sake He did return the interest I gave him ; But 'twas not in his power to revoke Himself, made mine, nor dare I quit possession.
Car. I have but tried thy virtue ; Manuel And I are friends.
Cla. That was a heavenly language.
Car. Our swords shall serve to nobler uses,
Clara;
I'll not disturb the progress of your marriage : And since I see you're fix'd so gloriously, Proceed to your own hymen ; I'll attend you, And witness all your holy rites.
Cla. Blest change ! What prayers and duty can reward this goodness !
Car. I hope you'll not deny, for my past service, Madam, your smile upon me, which shall be A triumph after all my wounds received, And boast a glory next to be your husband ; For I consider now I am unfit. Farewell ; we may salute. — Remember, Manuel, The time and place. [Exit*
Cla. What was it the prince whisper'd ?
Man. Nothing, madam, To fright your cheek to paleness.
Cla. I do tremble.
Man. Were all this reconcilement a disguise, And that he meant revenge, should time and place Fit his intents, and I should meet his anger, Let this secure thy peace, his honour will Not let him wound me basely ; and when I Lift up a sword 'gainst him, fate let me die !
[Exeunt.
480 THE COURT SECRET. [Act IV.
ACT IV. SCENE F.
A Room in Mendoza's House. PEDRO seated at a table.
Ped. My lord is coming to my chamber ; he Has been with the king: I see myself already Knight of the order of the Calatrava, And my commission sign'd for the state secretary. I am not the first servant of the court Has kept his lord in awe ; these secrets are An excellent curb to ride a statesman with, That is not come to the art of poisoning. I know he wishes heartily I were hang'd. I tried him once for the wars, to find his pulse, And I was listed captain, before some, The general knew, had been seven years in service, As ushers to right honourable ladies : There was his grace's commendations To a field officer, that should drill me out, The first to die with honour on some onslaught ;' So quitted that preferment.
Enter MBNDOZA.
He is come ; I'll take no notice.
Men. If he liv'd at the t'other end of the world, He might betray me in the next packet. Ha !
Ped. Item, I bequeath —
Men. What art thou doing ?
Ped. Only making up my will, sir, and myself Ready for the Indies ; it is a long voyage,
• on tome onslaught;] i. e. attack, onset.
&. I.] THE COURT SECRET. 481
And therefore I would settle every thing Before I go. If your grace please to honour me, I would make you my executor.
[Rises, and comesforward.
Men. But when Will you die, Pedro ? ha ?
Fed. Sir, there be storms
Abroad, and who does know how soon the waves May roar, and crack the cabins ?
Men. Ha!
Ped. There may be calentures, my lord, and
twenty
Devices to be met at sea, beside The land diseases ; there be hurricanoes, Are boisterous enough to tear up mountains, And strike a ship clean through o f other side, To the Antipodes.
Men. He deals with the devil, And knows my thoughts. — [Aside.
There is no haste to make your will ; I have Considered o' the business, and truth is, I cannot find my heart willing to part with thee, So far thou hast been faithful : we will live, And die together.
Ped. By no means, my lord : I am resolv'd I will not live in Spain A month, for as much plate as the next fleet Brings home: — no, I beseech your grace, excuse me.
Men. Why, Pedro?
Ped. If your grace please, I shall be knighted, Or have the office you have promis'd, do't, And do't betime ; it will be worse for both else.
Men. You do not threaten to reveal the business?
Ped. 'Las, there be other matters, sir, as dan-
gerous ;
And if you love yourself, or honour, finish— I cannot help it.
Men. I am all a bath !
VOL. v.
482 THE COURT SECRET. [Act IV.
Pedro, why dost thou fright me so? If thou Be'st honest, there's 110 mortal can betray us.
Peel. Worse, worse than that ! Let me go travel,
sir,
And far enough ; it is not possible That I should stay, and you preserve your wits.
Men. The reason ?
Ped. It will make you mad to hear it, sir ; But 'tis my desperate fate ; the stars command it. Would I had never seen —
Men. What?
Ped. A face that I could name.
Men. If it concerns not The other mystery, let me hear it, Pedro ; 1 will be arm (1.
Ped. Why, then you'll cut my throat ; You cannot hold your hand. Pray let me go, And you may save all yet.
Men. Thou dost torment me.
Ped. And yet it is no fault of mine, directly ; We are all flesh and blood. — Oh, sir !
Men. Out with it.
Ped. You'll curse me when you know it. I would your grace would guess ; but 'tis impos- sible : 'Tis working to get out ; I am —
Men. Well said !
Ped. Oh, sir, I am — I am — in love ! now 'tis out.
Men. That all?
Ped. All? a pistole to a maravedi you draw Your rapier presently upon me ; and If I name but the party, will not have The patience to foin, but tilt it at me. Sir, do not know't. What will become of me ? It will be safer, sir, to hoist sails yet, No matter whither, so I never come A gain ; for if I see one face too often,
Sc. L] THE COURT SECRET. 483
Both you, and I, and she's undone. I have Beaten myself already, fasted, prayed, Been drunk, and pray'd again ; nothing will kill Concupiscence.— Oh, sir!
Men. Why, this is raving.
Fed. Ay, you may call it what you please ; but
here
She lies across that must or do the deed, Or make poor Pedro miserable.
Men. How he sweats ! — Pedro, do not despair ; this fever may Be cur'd ; it may.
Fed. Indeed you can do much ; For, to say truth, your grace is both acquainted, And has no small command, upon the party.
Men. Nay, then, be confident. Who is't?
Fed. It is — shall 1 name her?
Men. By my honour, I will beat thee, else.
Fed. Why, so then ! The pretty soul, 1 will confess to you, Whom, if I stay, I must —
Men. Enjoy; this such a business?
Fed. Is — is — Clara ! your grace's one, and only daughter.
Men. Ha! [Draios.
Fed. I told you this afore ; but do not do't, sir,
now ;
I rather look for it in the next sallad, Or in my morning's draught: there's spice in
your closet ; Or we have Spanish figs.
Men. Thou most unheard-of impudence ! how
can'st hope I should not cut thy head off? Sirrah ! rascal !
Fed. To these things human nature has been
prone.
But if you kill me, sir, there is a schedule, A secret in a bag of writings, left
484 THE COURT SECRET. [Act IV.
In a friend's hand — nay, I did look for this : There is an inventory of goods were stol'n ; The anno domini, with cetatis sua, Set down, the day o' the month, and place remem-
ber'd ; If these do not revenge my death —
Men. Why, so! a pox upon thee!— yet come
hither, And let me cut thy tongue out.
Ped. I confess
I am not fit to marry, sir, a lady of Her princely birth and fortune, all consider'd ; Alas ! I know 1 am a wretch ; but —
Men. Thou would'st have her to be thy whore,
and me
Thy pander, to speak for thee? Ro^ue, devil ! I must kill thee ; there's no remedy. Ped. Hold ! you mistake me, sir ; 'tis no such
business.
Men. What woukTst thou have, then? Ped. I would go beyond sea, I, to the Indies, sir; Or turn a haddock by the way : send me To the New Islands, or Japan.
Men. From whence you may send letters to the
king! No, sirrah, Til not trust you.
Ped. 'Tis a hard case, ray lord ; I have dan- gerous sailing
Betwixt your grace's Scylla and her Charybdis. Men. I dare not kill him — why do I not kill
myself then?
No, 1 will not; I will talk reason to him. — [Aside. Come hither, sirrah, my tormentor. Ped. I, sir?
Men. If your hot blood must have a cooler, will None serve your rogue's turn but my daughter
Clara? Say thou art road.
Sc. I.] THE COURT SECRET. 486
Fed. I have too many senses.
Men. Or if your wantonness must be confined Within my walls —
Fed. The more my sorrow — but III try, my
lord,
If you will give me leave, for your sake, sir, Among her gentlewomen, what I can do, To conjure down my devil. I will take Some physic too, sir, every thing will help ; Would I were whipp'd, my lord.
Men, Whipp'd, with a vengeance !
Fed. But 1 am griev'd, For your vexation, and my scurvy fortune ; But if there be a wench, a witch, a medicine Above ground, that can give me any charm, Your grace shall hear no more on't: — so, your
pardon,
And now, my lord, let your unworthy servant Have leave to ask one question. Does not your *
grace
Suspect me monstrously ? nay, do you not think I do presume too much upon your fears ? And that the knowledge of this secret makes Me bold and saucy, my good lord ?
Men. 'Tis all too true ; but 'tis not in my brain To help't, unless I take some course to kill thee.
Fed. How!
Men. I fear I shall be driven to't ; one fit Like this will work my impatience up : look to't.
Fed. Why, then I'll tell your grace an easy way To remove all your jealousy, and never Trouble your brain with study how to kill me ; A most compendious way.
Men. 1 would I knew it!
Fed. 'Tis but my going to the court, my lord; And if you be not cur'd within an hour After I have told the king a story, how
486 THE COURT SECRET. [Act IV.
Your wife the duchess lost — [Men. appears alarm- ed.']— I have done — Fear nothing.
Enter a Lord.
Lord. Is not prince Carlo here ?
Men. Not here, my lord.
Lord. 'Tis the king's pleasure you attend him
presently ;
Your daughter's presence is expected too, Among the ladies, for the entertainment Of princess Isabella, new arriv'd The court.
Men. We humbly wait to kiss his hand.
Fed. Shall I attend?
Men. I am resolv'd now not to sleep without
thec;
And in the day I'll look upon thee, Pedro, As thou wert my great seal, and I thy keeper.
Ped. Yet 1 may give you a slip.
Men. We will to Clara.—
The princess Isabella come so private, ha! — Pedro.
Ped. I am here, my lord. [Exeunt.
SCENE II.
A solitary Spot without the City. Enter MANUEL.
Man. This is the place, by his commands, to
meet in ;
It has a sad and fatal invitation : A hermit that forsakes the world for prayer And solitude, would be timorous to live here. There's not a spray for birds to perch upon ;
&. II.] THE COURT SECRET. 487
For every tree that overlooks the vale, Carries the mark of lightning, and is blasted. The day, which smil'd as I came forth, and spread Fair beams about, has taken a deep melancholy, That sits more ominous in her face than night : All darkness is less horrid than half light. Never was such a scene for death presented ; And there's a ragged mountain peeping over, With many heads, seeming to crowd themselves Spectators of some tragedy ; — but I will Prevent them all. Though my obedience Instructed me to wait here, it shall not Be brib'd to draw my sword against the prince ; And in his honour 1 am safe :%howe'er This sense of Clara's loss transport him, 'tis not Within his nature to be impious ; And if I gain his friendship, I return With triumph to my Clara. [Within.'] Help! help!
Enter CELIO.
Cel Oh,lielp ! don Manuel, help, for heaven's
sake ! Men. Cello, the prince's page! Where is the
prince 1
Cel. Oh, sir, I fear he's slain. Man. By whom ? Cel. The devil, or one not very much unlike
him ;
A Moor, that basely set upon him. Sure He has dispatch'd the prince ; he pursues me ; And if he have, death shall be welcome to me, For I am not fit to live, and lose my master: He's here, and his sword bloody !
Enter CARLO, disguised like a Moor. Man. Villain ! were all thy blood rivers of balm,
488 THE COURT SECRET. [Act IV.
Or such a flood as would restore a life To the departed world, it should be all A sacrifice to Carlo. [They fight ; Carlo falls. Cel. Hold, hold, don Manuel ! Man. Canst thou be merciful to the prince's
murderer]
Cel. Curse on my duty to obey so far ! — My lord, the prince is slain ; you are wounded too. Man. The prince ! Car. Don Manuel, I forgive thee. Man. Pray heaven this be a dream ; for if my
hand
Have been so much a traitor, it shall call No other aid in your revenge. Are you Prince Carlo ? Car. I was. Man. That voice shall be my sentence.
[Offers to stab himself. Car. Hold ! I charge thee by thy honour, Manuel.
Man. Why did you wear this black upon you,
sir?
Or how could art of man contrive a cloud Which this soul had no eyes to penetrate ?
Car. I knew thou would'st not fight against me
knowingly ;
And if I fell, I meant it to secure Thy act from punishment, when, in this darkness, I took my leave o' the world : only that boy,* Whom 1 com pel Pd to feign me wounded, so To make thee draw thy sword — but with my blood I feel my spirits vanish. If I have But breath enough, I send by thee a kiss
To thy own Clara now.
\
1 only that boy, &c.] Either something has dropped
out, or Carlo's weakness prevented him from finishing the sen- tence : it seems as if he intended to avert Manuel's anger from Celio.
8c. I!.] THE COURT SECRET. 489
Ma n. O h , h el p , good boy ! For 'tis no time to curse thee now : my horse Is not far off; this scarf may stay his bleeding, Until we meet with better surgery. Now, heaven, reprieve my strength but to convey
him
To some good place, and I resign myself To all the justice you will call me to.
{Man. and CeL carry off Carlo.
SCENE III.
An Apartment in the Palace.
Enter King, MENDOZA, RODERIGO, ANTONIO, and
PEDRO.
King. You are all but my tormentors. Where's Piracquo ?
Enter PIRACQUO.
Rod. His son is absent too. Pir. Have comfort, sir. Ant. Our neglect is lost in the general cause. What do you think, my lord Mendoza?
Men. This no news of the prince is not so com- fortable.
Enter a Lord.
King. The news you bring?
Lord. Unless he had left the kingdom—
King. Be dumb— an he had left the world Your cares might have pursued him ; If he return not, you have murdered him.
Rod. My stars are now
At work in heaven ; their influence is powerful. 1 will adore the sun, if it dissolve not
490 THE COURT SECRET. [Act IV.
This mist in which the prince is lost ; I am
Content thou be2 a constellation, Carlo,
In any sphere but this. [Aside.
Enter a Messenger, with a letter to Piracquo.
Pir. To me ? 'tis Manuel's character.
Lord. Unless we hear some good news of the
prince, I fear we lose the king too.
Ant. Tis strange none should attend him but
his page.
Rod. 1 fear some plot is practis'd 'gainst his life ; But dare not speak.
Lord. That's it distracts the king, Whose fears are help'd by a sad dream he had Last night.
Rod. My lord Piracquo's son is missing too. Pir. Comfort yourself till my return ; I'll find them, or ne'er see your face again.
King. Well said, Piracquo : all my prayers go with thee. [Exeunt Pir. and Mess.
Men. Pedro. Fed. My lord. Men. I know not what to say ; but stand before
[mej
They may not see me weep. Ped. Sir, I must confess — Men. Ha! confess? Ped. You are still suspicious ; have a true
heart,
And let your conscience look less abroad, sir: If he be dead, your trouble's over, sir. We must all die ; death has his several ways And times to take us off; some expire humbly T the cradle, some dismiss'd upon a scaffold. —
* Content thou be] The old copy reads, " Content then to fc;" of which I can make nothing.
Sc. III.] THE COURT SECRET. 491
Enter ISABELLA, MARIA, and CLARA.
Men. Come hither, [takes Fed. asideJ]— Do not
name a scaffold ; I
Was innocent, thou know'st ; the plot was all My lady's, and not one survives the secret But we two.
Ped. Keep your own counsel, sir, This fatherly affection may do harm ; He could not die in better time.
King. Madam, can you, Whose honour seems to suffer by this absence, Have so much charity to comfort me?
Isab. He is not desperate, while we have hope ; My lord Piracquo's son may wait upon him.
Enter MANUEL.
Ant. Don Manuel!
King. Hast brought news of my son ?
Man. I can inform you a sad story, sir.
Isab. Where is the prince?
Man. Not dead, 1 hope.
King. Hast thou a jealousy will concern that
fear? My soul has been a prophet. What misfortune?
Man. If you have strength to hear a truth so sad, He has been wounded.
[Exit Isab. folio wed by Mar. and Cla.
King. By what traitor? — Look to the princess.
Man. I had not with such boldness undertook The tragic story, if I had not brought The great offender.
King. Oh, welcome, Manuel. Where's the body?
Man. Where it doth want no surgery : but my
father Is gone, with all the wings his fear and duty
492 THE COURT SECRET. [Act IV.
Can aid him with, at his return to acquaint you With Carlo's life or death.
Rod. Would I were his surgeon ! [Aside.
King. Thou hast not nam'd the villain yet ; he
may Escape.
Man. I have took order for his stay, Until your anger, and the laws conclude him.
King. Thou hast done us service.
Man. And it will sink by slow degrees into Your faith, that he, who gave him all his wounds, Was one that lov'd him faithfully.
Ant. Lov'd him ?
Man. Above his own life.
Rod. Torments overtake the traitor!
Man. 'Tis not well said, with pardon of the
king.
When 1 shall bring you to the weeping heart Of this poor man, some may allow his penitence So great, it may invite a mercy to him : Alas, he was betray'd to the black deed, Both sword and soul compell'd to't.
King. Here's a prodigy !
Rod. Are you acquainted with the guilty person, That you dare thus extenuate his fact?
Man. I am, and dare produce him — here he
stands !
So far from wishes to outlive the prince, He begs to wait upon his shade.
Ant. Does he not bleed ?
King. Apprehend his person.
Man. They are but churlish drops, And know not their own happiness ; this wound Was made by Carlo, yet how slow it weeps To answer his effusion ! Could I reach Their orifice, I'd kiss the crimson lips, For his dear name that made them.
Men. Did he kill him ?—
Sc. III.] THE COURT SECRET. 493
Justice, sir, justice ! I beg for justice Upon this murderer !
Ped. Now it works.
^ King. You ? By what nearer interest in Carlo Should you imagine we are slow to. punish him ? Twas a black hour when Carlo saw thee first, Rewarded now for all his love. — To prison with
him, And let him see no day.
Man. I kiss your sentence. [Exit, guarded.
Ant. This circumstance is strange ; 1 am not
satisfied. [Exit.
Re-enter CLARA.
King. How is the princess?
Cla. Sir, she is alive, And would be glad to hear the prince were so.
King. We cannot promise, Clara. — Roderigo, We should be satisfied where his body is ; For 'tis without a soul, I fear, by this time.
Rod. I could instruct the surgeon a way To make that sure. [Aside, and exit.
Men. And Manuel hath confess'd himself the murderer. [To Clara.
Ped. This change was unexpected.
Cla. • Is he gone To prison, then?
Men. Go home ; by that time thou Hast wept out all thy tears, I'll come, and tell thee A little sad tale, Clara, that shall make An end, and we will break our hearts together.
King. Mendoza! •'•**
Men. Sir.
King. Why does thy grief appear So rude, to outs well mine? He was my son.
Men. My tears are anger, sir, as well as grief, That he that did commit this parricide, Should be so impudent to say he lov'd him.
494 THE COURT SECRET. [Act IV.
King. That amazes me.
Men. But traitors have their gloss, And dare expound the disobedient acts A branch of their allegiance ; precious juggling ! Treason would be too ugly to appear With his own face ; but duty and religion Are handsome visors to abuse weak sight, That cannot penetrate beyond the bark, And false complexion of things. I hope You will not think a single death sufficient, If Julio die.
King. Carlo thou mean'st.
Men. Ay, ay, the prince; I know not what I
say, sir, Things make me wild.
Fed. Take heed, sir, what you say.
Re-enter ANTONIO and RODERIGO at one door ; at the other, PIRACQUO and a Lord discoursing.
Piracquo is return'd.
Pir. My son confess the deed, and sent to pri- son? So!
King. Now, sir.
Ant. How is the prince, my lord ?
Pir. This was an act of his last strength, as
when
A short-liv'd taper makes a blaze ; it has Direction to your sister, sir, and I His last commands, I fear. [Gives Ant. a letter.
Ant. For the conveyance, Trust that to me. — Give this, sir, to my sister.
[Exit Lord.
King. Then he is dead, Piracquo ?
Pir. Not yet, sir ;
But he hath such a wound will not allow Him many minutes life ; 'tis mortal, sir, They say, and will not pain him past next dressing.
Sc. III.] THE COURT SECRET. 495
Rod. How things succeed to my ambition !— [aside. ,] — Sir —
Men. I care not for my head ; now let him
take it ; 'Tis but for keeping counsel.
Rod. It is apparent this misfortune grew From both their loves to Clara.
King. Thy son, Piracquo, dies.
Pir. Great sir, hear me.
Ant. Manuel affirms he did not know the prince ' the habit of a Moor, and that his page, By the command of Carlo, told him, that His master had been wounded by that Moor, To engage their fight.
Pir. All this the prince acknowledg'd.
Rod. These are devices to paint Manuel's treason.
Pir. I sooner dare believe one accent from The prince's breath, when his just soul was part- ing.
Than all your commentaries ; I am bold, Nor can the law, and all your anger, weigh So heavy, as my curse upon his head That durst lift up a sword to wound the prince. But let not passion take away your justice ; 'Tis that I kneel for.
King. Against whom, Piracquo?
Pir. 'Gainst him that's guilty of the prince's
loss: You may incline to think poor Manuel innocent.
King. What riddle's this ?
Rod. Has not your son, Piracquo, Confessed himselt the murderer?
Ant. Manuel's fortune Distracts the old man.
Pir. Pardon my love of truth, I here accuse Mendoza, that hath slept so long in treason.
Men. Ha!— Pe— Pedro!
Pir. If he deny, I have proof to make him blush,
496 THE COURT SECRET. [Act IV.
And sink him with dishonour : Pedro can Relate a story will be worth your wonder.
Men. Nay then, 'tis come about, I see. — I cannot, sir, confess in better time : Don Manuel has accus'd himself unjustly For Carlo's death ; that prince, if I may trust A wife upon her death-bed — [Takes Rod. aside.
Re-enter ISABELLA.
King. Rederigo,
Give us account from their examination, And guide us in this labyrinth. — Piracquo, Return to the prince ; what death hath left of him, Command may be attended hither.
Isab. Sir, if you please, 1 have a great desire To take a sad leave of the prince, and kiss His pale hand, ere his body be embal MM! , And searcloths hide him from us.
King. It will but Enlarge your grief.
Ant. I will attend my sister. — My lord Piracquo, you can best direct us.
[Exeunt Ant. Pir. and Isab.
Rod. Convey them with a strong guard.
Fed. What think you of an Indian voyage now, sir?
Rod. My joys are firm at root, [aside.] — Don
Manuel,
Sir, is not guilty of the prince's death, Yet stain'd with blood to merit execution. He that is slain did but usurp your blessing, And was, by the art of duke Mendoza's lady, Then governess to the prince, after the loss Of Carlo, that was stoPn away an infant, Put in his place : the court has been long cozen'd.
King. This story will want faith.
Men. The circumstance Will make all clear.
Sc. I.] THE COURT SECRET. 497
King. Expound the riddle as we walk. There's
no
Condition more expos'd to care than princes' ; Private men meet the force of common stings, But none can feel the weight of kings but kin^s. ^Exeunt King and Rod. — Men. and Fed. are led off guarded.
ACT V. SCENE I.
A Cell in the Prison. Enter MENDOZA and the Castellano.
Men. A very goodly pile ! a handsome prison !
Cast. It has been graced with persons of some honour.
Men. They had but little grace, as well as I, That came to be your tenants, for all that. Signior, where is my quondam servant, My fellow prisoner, Pedro?
Cast. He is singing, sir.
Men. What?
Cast. Catches.
Men. He has a fine time on't. He need not clear his throat for a confession, He has done that already, and 1 too ; That trouble's over : and yet call him hither ; But I'll not sing, [exit Cast.']— Poor Julio, thou art
£one> »j
And with thy eyes all my delights are clos d ;
MY senses vanish too apace.— I was
Too hastv when my duchess lay a dying
To visit her ; had I but stay'd one hour,
She had been speechless, and I had been happy,
Without the reach of this unlucky secret.
VOL. V.
498 THE COURT SECRET. [Act V.
Re-enter Castellano with PEDRO.
j
Fed. Does the house fill? Sir, these are active
times ;
And if all men had their deserts, the state Must be at charge to build new tenements For traitors.
Cast. The times are busy, sir.
Fed. They are, indeed, Good for all squires of the delinquent body, And sable twig.1
Cast. You are very pleasant, sir.
Ped. You would not smile, 1 think, so much, if
justice
Should take a toy and turn about : it is Within the hand of fate to fetch a compass With your own rod, and whip ; you know what follows. [Exit Castellano.
Men. Is this a time and place convenient, Pedro, To sing your catches?
Ped. Yes, an please your grace ; And cause my songs are set for three parts, sir, If it will please your grace to take the tenor, And get the prince's page, newly committed, To sing the treble, for the base let me alone.
Men. You can sing that part at first sight.
Ped. I can Reach double ef- fa-nth. — Shall the boy come?
Men. Yes, yes: why should I grieve?
Ped. Why, now you are right. Let men, that have no hope to get their freedom, Be sullen, whine like whelps, and break their sleep; We must be jolly, and drink sack, and sing.
1 And sable twig.] I do not recollect meeting with this ex- pression elsewhere ; perhaps it should be supple twig. What- ever it be. some instrument of punishment is meant, and not improbably the rod mentioned in the next speech.
Sc. L] THE COURT SECRET. 499
Men. We ! why ice ? Is any thing in our con- dition
Can promise hope, to be enlarg'd before The rest? Our state, if you consider, Pedro, Exceeds, in being desperate, other men's, As we out-sin them in the fact.
Ped. Why, there's your error; we are in for
treason, sir, That's to our comfort.
Men. Comfort ! Can there be A greater charge ?
Ped. Oh, our discharge the nearer. Poor things, whose highest thoughts are pilfering, Lie by't, and languish sessions after sessions, 'Till they have worn away their clothes, and skins too, And often are repriev'd ; when he that's sent Hither for treason, quickly comes to the bar, Pleads his not guilty, and is hang'd compendiously.
Men. Yet some, with reverence to your obser- vations, Are not dispatch'd.
Ped. Then, doubt their causes mainly. Your grace, I hope, shall not complain for want Of timely execution; I am thinking What speech is best to please the people at it.
Men. 1 shall have cause to name your treachery.
Ped. Why so ! there is more argument by that To stuff out your confession.
Men. Tell me, and tell me truly, How long since you discover'd this COURT SECRET To don Piracquo ?
Ped. I was tender-hearted, sir, And knew that I had but a weak memory ; Therefore, the first time that I saw his lordship, After he came from Portugal, I told him The punctual story, lest 1 should forpt, sir. What should a man dissemble, and lose time for I
I did it for your good.
K k 2
500 THE COURT SECRET. [Act\.
Men. It does appear.
Ped. It was no fault of mine, you came no sooner To this preferment.
Men. It might have sav'd my Julio's life indeed, And then, though I had died —
Ped. Yet you were against it still : These jealousies and fears do seldom prosper. I knew, by instinct, 'twere better ;- but, as it is, Tis well ;
Your death will be more pitied and remarkable. Men. But what have you got by betraying me? Ped. The credit to be hang'd for treason, as I told your grace ; besides the benefit Of being read in chronicles with lords, And men of worship. I have prepared A business for the present, a provision, sir, Will serve my turn.3 Men. What's that? Ped. A ballad, sir, Before I die, to let the people know How I behav'd myself upon the scaffold ; With other passages, that will delight The people, when 1 take my leave of the world, Made to a pavin tune.8 — Will you hear it?
Re-enter Castellano with CLARA.
Men. Away, you knave !
Cast. Sir., your daughter. [Exit.
Ped. She comes to condole. I'll see you another time. — Your grace's servant.
[Exit. Cla. Sir, I beseech you tell me, for I dare not
* Will serve my turn.] The old copy reads, " Will serve any turn," which cannot be right.
1 Made to a pavin tune.~\ i. e. grave, solemn ; such, perhaps, as sometimes accompanied the formal and stately dance of that name. The sphghtliness of Pedro, who knows there is no danger, is really diverting.
Sc. I.] THE COURT SECRET. sol
Believe the busy noise ; they say you have Confess'd strange things ; and he that was receiv'd These many years prince Carlo, and so lately Slain, is my brother Julio.
Men. Sad truth, Clara.
Cla. I have heard my mother say, he died an infant.
Men. And I believ'd it too ; but at her death She told me another story, Clara, that Prince Carlo by some pirates had been stol'n An infant from our castle ; on which loss, She sent me word to court, my son died suddenly t At which the king, fearing some danger might Follow to the prince, her charge, commanded him To court, instead of whom, she sent thy brother, Who was believ'd the kingdom's heir, until Pedro, who waited then nearest thy mother, And knew the imposture, brake his oath, and told Piracquo all the secret, by whose charge, My death and shame must make up the full tragedy.
Cla. [Don] Manuel kill'd my brother then?
Men. He has done't ; And if thou hast a sister's soul, thou must Join with thy father, to pull curses on him.
Cla. That will not call poor Julio back again : They say that charity will open heaven.
Men. Charity ! Will you not curse your bro- ther's murderer? Upon my blessing, I command thee curse him.
Cla. That would but wound us more, and not
reach him :
Beside, 'twere an intrenchment upon heaven, So boldly to prescribe our own revenge ; It were a sin might draw another punishment, Great as the loss of you.
Men. You are a baggage— But if thou hast a thought to wish him live, Here I disclaim thee; if thou wert a son,
502 THE COURT SECRET. [Act V.
I would pronounce thee bastard, if thou didst not Kill him thyself; but, as it is, I shall not Be satisfied, since my own hands are bound, If thou attempt not something in his danger.
Cla. Good sir, you speak as you were to expect No killing sentence from the offended law.
Men. Til study some revenge myself. [Exit.
Cla. He's lost!
And in this storm, like a distracted passenger Whose bark has struck upon some sand, 1 look From the forsaken deck upon the seas ; I find my own despair, which every wave Swells high, and bids me die for fear of drowning.
Re-enter Castellano.
May I not see don Manuel, your prisoner \ Cast. Yes, madam, if you expect until
Princess Maria, who is come to visit him — Cla. My affairs concern them both ;
Direct me with more haste.
Cast. Then, this way, madam. [Exeunt.
SCENE II.
°v''.n Another Cell of the same ; a taper on the table.
Enter MANUEL and MARIA.
Man. Madam, I owe to your charity this light; And yet this little taper may be useless. I fear the king will lose part of his sentence When you go hence, for such a full light waits About you, when you take away your person, It will be some day still, as I foresee, As you appear'd some dawning of the morning.
Mar. I would I could bring comfort to thee, Manuel !
Man. What comfort can you wish me ?
Sc. II.] THE COURT SECRET. 503
Mar. Life and liberty; With these myself, if fate, and thy consent, Were to allow the gift.
Man. It is not well,
Unless you doubted, madam, my repentance, To afflict me with these mockeries. When will you rather perfect, what your own Revenge must prompt you to, my death for Carlo, Your princely brother, madam ? I confess This hand ro'bb'd him of life.
Mar. Yet, in my heart, I dare pronounce thy pardon, Manuel,
Man. It is not possible.
Enter CLARA.
Is not that Clara?
That's come to take her leave, before I print
My everlasting farewell on her lip ?
Which I shallhardly find, if this rain last,
To drown these lovely meadows : thou shalt be
A judge between the princess and poor Manuel ;
To enable thee for sentence, take upon thee
Her person, Clara. Be the princess, wilt?
And hear me plead against myself, and her,
Till she repent her love, and leave me to
A quiet death.— I know not how to think,
Maria, you can mean this love to me,
Or that your voice, when it does chime the sweetest,
Is more than preface to my dirge : say that
You have a heart less penetrable than
The scale of dragons, and as many stings,
When they make war, and I'll give faith to you ;
For such an enemy as I must not
Be look'd on, but with all your wrath upon me.
Methinks I hear your brother call you, madam ;
And hovering, as he scorn'd to touch the eartt
Sustains his murderer, is pointing to
504 THE COURT SECRET. [Act V.
The wounds I made, whose fountains are still
weeping.
I feel a purple dew descend upon me, And I am all a bloody rock already. Are not you stiff with worider.yet? If once You had, when I appear'd a man, fair thoughts Of me, it is too much to love me now, You must convert them into curses, madam, And I will call it justice.
('In. \ came not
To hear this comment on my brother's story, Whom you have kill'd.
Man. Observe her act your person, And speak now, as if the sorrow were her own, And sne had lost a brother.
Cla. Indeed
I have wept before, and came not now to learn A grief for him that was so near my blood: But I've consider'd, too, the ties of nature Should have no force against the rules of justice. Although it be a sorrow, to remember He took his great misfortune from your sword, You did not murder him, nay, you did not kill him ; You fought in his revenge ; and while he came, Hid in the name and person of a traitor, It was your virtue made him bleed, — and yet He was my brother, sir.
Man. Your brother ! more, He was your prince, too, madam, think o* that, The full-blown expectation of the kingdom, One that redeem'd my life from banishment, And yet I killed him. Can you forgive me? You cannot, must not, madam.
Cla. Yes, and dare Say I still love you.
Man. She will punish me, For giving up my interest to Carlo, If she encourage thus Maria, [aside.]— Madam,
&. II.] THE COURT SECRET. 505
Do you consider how few sands are left In my poor glass? Of lime I cannot promise Three minutes here : law, and the kind's decree, Have turn'd two parts of me to dust already ; I feel the third unsettle, and make fit To be dissolved ; but could fate give my life The period to be wish'd (remember whom I speak to, Clara,) and I need no more Accuse myself, my heart was long since given Away, and you as soon may reconcile Time arid eternity to one growth and age, As hope my love and your's should ever meet. Cla. Then it is time to die. Man. Madam, she faints. Oh, help ! she has forgot her part ; this was Not meant to Clara.
Mar. Madam! madam! Man. Clara ! So, so ! she returns, I should have quickly followed else.
Mar. I see
Your loves are sacred, and 'tis sin to attempt Your separation ; though I lov'd thee, Manuel, I can resign to Clara, whom I hop'd Her brother s death might have provok'd to leave
thee.
Man. Her brother's ?
Let me hear Clara speak. Her brother's death ! Having so little time to stay with thee Alive, why didst thou make such haste1?
Cla. Did not
You, sir, pronounce it was impossible That our two loves should meet ?
Man. Thou didst not Represent Clara, then, thou wertthe princess.
Cla. I know not ; but your last profession, That our two hearts should never grow together, Followed so close my brother's death, I thought The meaning look'd on me.
606 THE COURT SECRET. [Act V.
Man. Tliy brother's death ?
Mar. You have not slain the prince, my brother,
Manuel. But Clara's ; this may yet appear a mystery.
Cla. 'Tis too true.
Man. But stay ; and can mv Clara then forgive
me?
No man despair to find mercy in heaven, There is so great a charity upon earth. But do not leave me lost i' the wonder, madam ; Although it would be happiness to know The prince not dead, I cannot hear, without A wound next his, that I have kill'd thy brother. It cannot be ; although thou would'st forgive me, I cannot be so miserable.
Mar. How
Their souls agree ! 'twere tyranny to part them. —
[Aside.
Clara, I envied, now allow, thy happiness, And will have no more thoughts upon your loves, But what shall be employ'd in hearty wishes That Manuel may live still to reward it : Thou hast deserv'd him better than 1 have Antonio.
Cla. If my death
May speak addition to the love I owe thee, 'Tis in my resolution, at that minute Thy soul takes leave, my own shall wait upon it. And take a journey through the clouds together: Who knows but they may fill one star ! Farewell, Till we begin that progress.
Man. Do not make
Death horrid to me, Clara ; for to think, When this unworthy frame must fall to pieces, Thy soul, a fairer tenant to this building, Should wander in pursuit of mine —
Mar. No more ;
Sc. II.] THE COURT SECRET.
507
Let me advise your griefs, I have tears for both ; Divide at distance, you may kiss in heart.
Man. With such a groan souls from their bodies part.
Re-enter Castellano, who lights out the Ladies, and Manuel retires.
SCENE HI.
An Apartment in the Palace. Enter RODERIGO and ISABELLA.
Isab. How ! an impostor ! Though the people's
tongues,
That catch at every noise, and wave their duty, As they are prescribed by faction or lewd pam- phlets, Do talk this loud—
Rod. Upon my honour, madam.
Isab. I hope your lordship has another know- ledge,
And faith, than to disgrace your blood : the prince —
Rod. I say he is no prince ; and we are sorry A lady of your greatness should, i' the height Of such a glorious expectation, lose What did invite your person hither.
Isab. Ha!
Then I am lost ; that letter has undone me, Which, full of love and satisfaction, made Me hasty to destroy myself.
Rod. Tis yet
Within your choice to lose no honour, madam, And, in my sense of what you else might suffer, I come to tender reparation, Both to your love and greatness.
508 THE COURT SECRET. [Act V,
Isab. 'Tis not possible.
Rod. If you can find within your heart a will To entertain my love — I am no impostor; The king will call me brother. Be kind, madam, And what is past shall vanish like a dream ; Secure me with a smile.
Isab. My lord, I thank you ; But there will still remain some characters, By which the world may guess at my sad story. Rod. There cannot. Isab. Yes, I find some printed here ; For! did love the person, I confess, Of him you call the impostor. Did he know Himself a counterfeit?
Rod. Let me be just, And quit him from that treason.
Isab. That is something To plead his innocence to me. I dare not Yet ask his name, when I remember what My tongue consented to before the priest So late ; yet 'twill be known. — If he be not The prince we thought, tell me his other name ; Say, is he basely born ? Rod, He is the duke Mendoza's son.
Isab. That is a comfort yet ; And in the confidence of this truth, my lord, I am well again ; I thank you.
Rod. If this please you, Do you remember, madam, he hath wounds Fatal upon him, that already may Exclude him from the living? Isab. 'Twould be impious, While there is any life remaining, sir, To make another promise. When you say He's dead, I may with modest freedom hear What you too early now prepare me for. [Exit. Rod. You honour me enough. —
Sc. HI.] THE COURT SECRET. 509
I find her judgment
Already meet what I propound ; he cannot,
He shall not live to cross me.
Enter PIRACQUO.
Tis Piracquo ;
He can assure me. — You look sad, my lord, As if with Julio's giving up the ghost, Your son's life now were forfeit. Pir. 'Tis too true.
Rod. Til follow, and acquaint her ; yet 'tis safer She take it from another. [Aside.
Pir. All my hopes
Are in your grace ; the king is coming hither. If you will bind an old man's prayers and service, Second my feeble breath, and mediate His mercy to my boy. You may be satisfied In conscience, he had no thoughts to kill him ; The prince's death will not engage you now To be poor Manuel's enemy. Good, my lord, Forgive what past in my rash language.
Rod. Does not
Your lordship call to mind there was a sum Of fifty thousand ducats ?
Pir. They shall be sent to your grace's secretary ;
I'll make them fifty thousand more, and think It cheap to save his life ; now you are merciful.
Rod. The bargain would do well ; but you are
cozen'd.
/ will not [pay] a maravedi, not I; If upon other honourable terms I may possess your favour, I shall meet Your just commands. Have you forgot, my lord 7 Some men do keep records ; but I am charitable, And will not rack your patience.
Pir. You are gracious.
510 THE COURT SECRET. [ActV.
Rod. Ten millions of ducats shall not ransom Your darling from the scaffold. You observe? You know yourself, your fortune, and upon What strength you must depend ; now I have said —
Pir. Will your grace hear? My son shall live then, and not lose one hair, If you would pawn your soul to have it otherwise : I have said too.
Rod. So peremptory!
Pir. Your grace must pardon me the truth ; I
have
A scurvy sullen humour where I meet A worse, and cannot hold, though I should hang
for't, And so good bye to your grace ; we are alpne.
Rod. Be merry with your head on — time may come —
Pir. I would take boldness, once more, to entreat That the young man may live till the next spring, And then your grace may purge —
Rod. So, sir !
I shall find ways to stay your vomiting. The king.
Enter King and Lords.
1 Lord. Good sir, be comforted.
King. Good sir, give me reasons. I had a son till now, yet long since lost him.
Rod. Now you may take revenge.
King. 'Tis well remember'd. Mendoza is the traitor ; he shall bleed For Carlo's loss.
Rod. And he deserves, that would Have cozen'd the whole kingdom.
King. Send for him ; I'll ask him in what wilderness the boy Has hid himself; command him hither presently;
Sc. L] THE COURT SECRET. 611
And if he give me not a satisfaction, It will be justice then to send his soul About the world to find him out. 1 Lord. The prince Antonio, sir.
Enter ANTONIO and MARIA.
'
Ant. If at a time, when sorrow Hath exercised his sting, you can admit To hear me happy in Maria's love, Let me begin to call you father ; and Till Carlo find your blessing, think you have One to supply his duty.
King. It is some Allay to Carlo's loss, Maria has Not left her father.
Mar. I shall ever live Within your precept to express a daughter, As unto him a wife.
King. Both to my heart ! Sit down. Where is your sister Isabella?
Rod. She not despairs To be a bride to one, that may repair My nephew's loss ; and if she smile on me, It will not draw, I hope, your frown upon it.
Enter ISABELLA, JULIO, and PIRACQUO.
Ant. Is not that Isabella)
hab. And this he,
Who, if you call me sister, must be worth Your noblest friendship and embrace.
Rod. Alive?
Jul. Your pardon, sir ; they knew me innocent Made me usurp prince Carlo's name for Julio's,
Rod. Confusion!
512 THE COURT SECRET. [ActV.
Enter MANUEL and CLARA.
Pir. I appeal, sir, to your justice, and have
brought My son, to hear your breath pronounce his pardon.
King. Thus all meet happiness, but I. Receive Him free, Piracquo, only I must mourn The loss of mine.
Enter MENDOZA and PEDRO.
Jul. I am no prince, don Manuel, My fate has been unriddled.
Cla. My brother living ! We are all safe.
Men. Ha! my Julio?
Jul. Your blessing now.
Men. Take it, and with it all my tears ; I scorn To shed one other drop ; my joys are mighty, My heart is all one bonfire.
King. Plead no more : Mendoza dies, the sentence is irrevocable.
Fed. There is a cooler,, sir, after your bonfire.
Jul. Sister, I'll kiss these sorrows off
Cla. You cannot, while ray father's doorn'd to death. % \
Rod. Why does Mendoza live?
Pir. Because he must not die yet. — Pedro.
Fed. My lord.
[Pir. and Fed. talk aside with the King.
Men. I'll give thee Clara first : here, take her,
Manuel,
I see she loves thee ; lose no tears for me, My taper has burnt dim this many years.
'King. Antonio! Maria! Isabella! Mendoza! witness all. — Proceed, Piracqiio.
Pir. I was that pirate, sir, that stole your son,
Sc. III.] THE COURT SECRET. 513
And being desperate, meant by this surprise To make my peace.
Ped. I was in the confederacy, And must affirm this truth.
Pir. But just when I had fitted my design, And did expect t' have brought don Carlo home, I heard he was at court, no loss deplor'd ; For, by the duchess of Mendoza's art, Julio supplied the prince's name and person. Men. And sent me word to court my son was
dead? Ha! Pir. This made me think my kinsman had de-
ceiv'd me,
And then resolv'd my stay in Portugal, Where, as my own, 1 bred and calFd him Manuel ; Till, after many years, your grace redeem'd us, And I at my return, confirrn'd i' the story By Pedro, hitherto protracted time, With hope to serve don Julio for our freedom. I have your pardon, sir, for all. King. Thou hast.
Ped. I am included. Trust me with a secret, sir, Another time : I knew 'twould come to this At last, and with some justice did but punish Your fears and jealousies. Is not this better Than sending me to the wars, or shipping me For t' other world before my time? Men. Thou'rt my best servant. Pir. And my heir again. .
Car. Depose me from this glorious title, sir, Unless my Clara may divide the honour.
King. Providence meant her thine ; both call
me father. _ ,
Rod. There is no remedy, [owcfe.]— Nephew,
welcome home,
And niece ; we shall be kindred now, Mendoza.- Piracquo, we are friends too, and 1 11 try How I can love yeu heartily. VOL. v. L *
514 THE COURT SECRET. [ActV.
King. I hear
The altar call ; make haste, the triumph will Attend too long : the clouds are chas'd away ; Night ne'er was mother to so bright a day.
[Exeunt.
Printed by William Nicol, Successor to W. Bulmcr and Co. Cleveland-row, St. James's.
BINDING LIST FEB 1
Robarts Library |ms
DUE DATE:
2 JUL 1998
Hours: .
8:30amtom.dn.ght
I
.•»*r