John Ford (with Havelock Ellis introduction) (2024)

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John Ford (with Havelock Ellis introduction)

"What things have we seenDone at the Mermaid! heard words that have beenSo nimble, and so full of subtle flame,As if that every one from whence they cameHad meant to put his whole wit in a jest,And had resolved to live a fool the restOf his dull life . ”Master Francis Beaumont to Ben Jonson." Souls of Poets dead and gone,What Elysium have ye known,Happy field or mossy cavern,Choicer than the Mermaid Tavern?"Keats.LONDON:J. S. VIRTUE AND CO. , LIMITED, PRINTERS, CITY ROAD.JOHN FORD.CONTENTS.THE LOVER'S MELANCHOLY'TIS PITY SHE'S A whor*THE BROKEN HEART .LOVE'S SACRIFICEPERKIN WARBECKPAGEviiI93183283377Do not know where to find in anyplay a catastrophe so grand, sosolemn, and so surprising as this [ ofThe Broken Heart]. This is indeed, according to Milton, to " describe high passions and high ac- tions. " The fortitude of the Spartanboy who let a beast gnaw out his bowels till he died without expressing a groan, is a faint bodily image of this dilaceration of the spirit andexenteration of the inmost mind, which Calantha with aholy violence against her nature keeps closely covered,till the last duties of a wife and a queen are fulfilled .Stories of martyrdom are but of chains and the stake;a little bodily suffering; these tormentsOn the purest spirits preyAs on entrails, joints, and limbs,With answerable pains, but more intense.What a noble thing is the soul in its strength and in its weaknesses! Who would be less weak than Calantha?Who can be so strong? The expression of this transcendentscene almost bears me in imagination to Calvary and theCross; and I seem to perceive some analogy between thescenical sufferings which I am here contemplating, and thereal agonies of that final completion to which I dare no more than hint a reference.Ford was of the first order of poets. He sought forsublimity, not by parcels in metaphors or visible images,but directly where she has her full residence in the heart ofman; in the actions and sufferings of the greatest minds.There is a grandeur of the soul above mountains, seas, and the elements. Even in the poor perverted reason of Giovanni and Annabella we discover traces of that fieryparticle, which in the irregular starting from out of the road of beaten action, discovers something of a right line even in obliquity, and shows hints of an improvable great- ness in the lowest descents and degradations of our nature.CHARLES LAMB.JOHN FORD.1586. John Ford was baptised at Ilsington, in Devonshire, onApril 17th.1602. He was admitted to the Middle Temple.1606. He published Fame's Memorial, an elegiac poem on thedeath of the Earl of Devonshire, and dedicated it to theCountess. Also, a pamphlet called Honor Triumphant,"in honour of all faire ladies and in defence ofthese fourepositions following-1 , Knights in Ladies service have nofree-will. 2, Beauty is the mainteiner of valour. 3, FaireLady was never false. 4, Perfect lovers are onely wise."1612. The Prince of Wales died.1613. Ford's comedy, An ill Beginning has a good End, wasacted at the co*ckpit. This was one ofthe plays destroyedby Warburton's cook.1615. Ford's Sir Thomas Overbury's Life and untimely Death(an event which had taken place two years previously),probably an elegy or a pamphlet, was entered in theStationers' books.1616. Shakespeare died.1618. Sir Walter Raleigh executed.1620. Ford published The Line ofLife, a prose pamphlet.1622. The Witch of Edmonton, a tragedy by Rowley, Dekker,Ford, &c. , was probably acted about this time.1624. The Sun's Darling, a masque by Ford and Dekker, was acted at the co*ckpit.1625. Fletcher died.1628. The Lover's Melancholy was acted at the Blackfriars and Globe theatres.1631. Dryden born.1632. Prynne published his Histrio-Mastix.1633. ' Tis Pity She's a whor*, The Broken Heart, and Love'sSacrifice were all printed in this year.1634. Perkin Warbeck printed.viii JOHN FORD.1635. Ben Jonson died.1637. Hampden refused to pay ship-money.1638. Ford's comedy, The Fancies Chaste and Noble, was printed;and his tragi - comedy, The Lady's Trial, acted at the co*ckpit.¹1639. Massinger died . It is probable that at about this periodFord left London to live at his native place, Ilsington.1640. Election of the Long Parliament.1641. Actors lament their " sad and solitary conditions . "66' Projectors are downe, the High Commission Court is downe,the Starre- Chambre is down, and (some think) Bishopswill down, and why should we then that are farre inferior toany of these justly feare, least we should be downe too. "(The Stage- Players- Complaint. )1642. The Civil War began, the Register of the Master of the

Revels was closed, and cn the 2nd of September waspublished the Ordinance of the Lords and Commons commanding "that while these sad causes and set-times ofhumiliation do continue, public stage plays shall cease and be forborne. "

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Introduction by Havelock Ellis

"Deep in a dump John Forde was alone got,With folded arms and melancholy hat. "

THAT vivid touch of portraitureis the one record that has comedown to us concerning Ford .His shy and reserved temperament corresponds to his artisticposition: he stands alone. Ofhimself he has nothing to tell us beyond one.early and perhaps not over- serious allusion , in1 Other plays of Ford's, or which now only the names areknown, were two comedies, The London Merchant and The Royal Combat, a tragedy called Beauty in a Trance, The Bristowe Merchant and The Fairy Knight, both written in conjunction withDekker, and A late Murther of the Sonne upon the Mother in conjunction with Webster. The three first- named plays wereimmolated by Warburton's cook.JOHN FORD. ixthe youthful Fame's Memoria , to an unkindmistress-"The goddess whom in heart I serveThough never mine, bright Lycia the cruel,The cruel-subtle."

Little, also, is recorded of him; of that littlenothing that is not to his honour; while thetone of his dedications is manly, independent,and, towards his personal friends, affectionate.That he was not afraid to take a losing side isshown by his Fame's Memorial, an elegy which,called forth as it evidently was bythe strangestory ofthe lady, Penelope, Countess of Devonshire, to whom it was dedicated, is the earliestwitness to Ford's interest in the problems ofromantic passion .Born in the north-west of Devonshire, andissuing from an old-established nest of Fords,while on the mother's side he was the grandson of the Lord Chief Justice Popham, JohnFord came up to London at an early age tobe trained to the law, becoming eventually,it is probable, a trusted agent for severalnoblemen, and he refers to his business withthat ostentation not uncommon in people whoknow that their true calling is elsewhere.During the years of his London life he wrotemany plays, some of which have perished; theywere received with a remarkable share of applause, and gained for their author a generalesteem among the decreasing minority whoX JOHN FORD.cared for plays. After nearly forty years spentin London he seems to have retired, just beforethe outbreak of the Civil War, to his nativeplace. According to a faint tradition he marriedand had children , ending his days as peacefullyas he might; for Ilsington was in the centreof a Royalist district, and is known to havesuffered heavily at the hands of the Parliamentary forces.Ford was more than forty years old whenthe earliest surviving play written by himselfalone was first acted. The Lover's Melancholy,although as a whole it is rather dreary, revealshis peculiar style already at its highest point ofdevelopment. This style, with its slow, subtlemelody, its sudden pauses on the suspensionof a long breath, its words that are gestures,has nothing of the half delirious freedom ofMarlowe or Beaumont, those strong- wingedpoets of an earlier and more robust age. Thisartist wrought, laboriously, cool, lucid lines thatare sometimes absolutely frozen. In his secondextant play, ' Tis Pity She's a whor*, Fordtouched the highest point that he ever reached.He never after succeeded in presenting animage so simple, passionate, and complete, sofree comparatively from mixture of weak orbase elements, as that of the boy and girllovers who were brother and sister. Thetragic story is unrolled from first to lastwith fine truth and clear perceptions. At oneJOHNFORD. xipoint only is it possible to detect any failure inFord's grasp of the situation . When at theclimax of their histories Giovanni stabs Annabella, her feeble exclamation, " Brother unkind! " fails to carry the impress of truth, andfalls short of the tragic height of passion towhich we are uplifted . Such a failure of insightis rare with Ford, much rarer than touches ofextravagant physical horror like the introduction of Annabella's heart on a dagger. It isprofitable to compare ' Tis Pity She's a whor*with a rather similar play by Beaumont andFletcher, A King and no King. Dryden thoughtthat this play was the finest that Beaumontand Fletcher ever wrote; it is certainly full ofsplendid rhetoric, tragic or tender, always broad,various and facile in style; but for the qualitiesof insight and sincerity, for fineness of moralperception, for the sure and deliberate grasp ofthe central situation, Ford's play is as far aboveBeaumont and Fletcher's, with its shifty conclusion, as it is below it in all the qualitieswhich make a play effective on the stage. TheBroken Heart is a monument of sorrows, a Niobegroup of frozen griefs. There is little movement, no definite plot or story; only thisrow of heart-broken figures-Orgilus, Panthea,Ithocles, Calantha, with many forms of minormelancholy:"And ' twere a comely music when in partsOne sung another's knell. "xii JOHN FORD.The unity of the play lies in the cumulativetouches by which these figures are realised forus, and by which we are lifted naturally to theheroic self- restraint of Calantha. Into Love'sSacrifice, the history of the ardent and reckless.Bianca, Ford has put his subtlest work, marredthough it is by the feeble and foolish sentiment of the conclusion . The story of the youthwho falls in love with his friend's wife, andwhen he has aroused in her stronger nature apassion far deeper than his own, shrinks backrealising his falsehood, is true to nature andwrought with Ford's finest art and insight. Butwe can only smile when we hear these lovers —"Hid in a rock offire,Guarded by ministers of flaming hell " —celebrated as miracles of chastity and truth .In so complete a moral collapse as this (unlesswe choose to regard it as intentional irony) , aswell as in the occasional touches of forcedmaterial horror with which he startles us, Fordshows that he was the child of a society taintedby the affectation of purity, and a court thathad ceased to be national and robust- both soonto vanish like a fantastic dream. In PerkinWarbeck he laid aside his characteristic defects ,and also his characteristic merits, to achievea distinct dramatic success. It is the leastinteresting of his plays for those who carefor the peculiar qualities which mark Ford'sgenius, but it certainly ranks among our bestJOHN FORD. xiiihistorical dramas. Ford's interest in psychological problems may be detected in his impartial, even sympathetic, treatment of Warbeck; but for the most part this play is anexception to every generalisation that may bearrived at concerning his work. It is of a masculine temperature, with few flaws, and of finecharacterisation throughout. These five playsembody whatever is best in Ford's work.1Ofhis remaining plays, The Lady's Trial contains most that is beautiful in language andcharacter; The Fancies Chaste and Noble has alittle that is characteristic, set in a weak andabsurd story; The Sun's Darling, a "moralmasque," of which Dekker wrote the larger andhappier part, exhibits Ford's most level andfrigid manner. The Wilch ofEdmonton, a nobleand more human work of art than any of these,was written in conjunction with Dekker andRowley.¹ It contains a fewtouches that are unmistakably Ford's, together with much that,without being very characteristic, has beenplausibly assigned to him; on the whole, it isone of those plays, not uncommon at that time,in which two or more writers united to producesomething that was unlike their individual work,and often superior to anything they producedsingly. Ford's early work in prose and versemay be neglected.The Witch ofEdmonton is included with Dekker's plays in the 1 Mermaid Series.xiv JOHN FORD.The burden of a passionate and heavy-ladenheart-that is the centre of every picture thaton the painting of it heThe rest of the canvas isFord presents to us;lavishes all his care.filled in with a rapid and careless hand. Hissuperior persons are generally uninteresting.As to his comic figures, it is for once impossible to go beyond the dictum of Gifford: theyare " a despicable set of buffoons." He isreckless of consistency in action or time, indifferent generally to dramatic effect, but when themysteries of the heart are in question he elabòrates his art to the highest point. The conflictbetween the world's opinion and the heart'sdesire he paints and repaints, not as a moralistbrowbeating the cynical or conventional world,but as an artist, presenting problems which hedoes not undertake to solve save by the roughmethods of the tragic stage. It is the griefdeeper than language that he strives to express.He seeks in his own words to" Sigh out a lamentable tale of thingsDone long ago, and ill done; and when sighsAre wearied, piece up what remains behindWith weeping eyes, and hearts that bleed to death."He is a master ofthe brief mysterious words, socalm in seeming, which well up from the depthsof despair. He concentrates the revelation of asoul's agony into a sob or a sigh. The surfaceseems calm; we scarcely suspect that there isanything beneath; one gasp bubbles up fromJOHN FORD. XVthe drowning heart below, and all is silence. Heis rich in those words and lines of sweet andsubtle music-"Parthenophil is lost, and I would see him;For he is like to something I remember,Agreat while since, a long, long time ago. "When we think of Ford we think of Giovanniand Annabella, passionate children who hadgiven the world for love; ofthe childish sophistrywith which they justified themselves, and oftheirlast marvellous dialogue through which pierceda vague sense of guilt-a lurid shadow cast fromthe world they had contemned. We think ofthat Bianca (she that "owned the poor style ofduch*ess ") who had thrown such scorn on herlover that he vowed never to speak to her againof unlawful love, and who comes to him in hissleep the night after, unclad and alone, in thelast abandonment of passion. We think ofFlavia in The Fancies Chaste and Noble, coldlydismissing her first husband with the one signof tenderness as she turns at length to her newhusband:**-"Beshrew ' t, the brim of your hatStruck in mine eye."We think of Calantha, still gracious and calmin the festive dance, as the leaden messages ofawful death are shot at slow intervals in her ear,-her father, her friend, her lover, still gracious and calm until her duties are ended.xvi JOHN FORD."When one news straight came huddling on another,Of death! and death! and death! still I danced forward;But it struck home, and here, and in an instant .

** * *

They are the silent griefs which cut the heart- strings;Let me die smiling."Ford is the most modern of the tribe to whomhe belonged. When Shelley in his last daysbegan a new drama, of which only fragmentsremain, he reproduced with added sweetness thetones and cadences of Ford's verse; and thewriters to-day who seek, and in vain, to reviveour ancient drama on its old lines, instinctivelyally themselves with Ford. When we enumeratehis great qualities we are enumerating thequalities which make him an ineffectual dramatist. Notwithstanding the ungrudging admiration of his relatives, legal friends, and fellowdramatists, and the " generally well received "report of the outside public, he could at no timehave been a really popular playwright; andwith the exception of Perkin Warbeck his playshave probably never been represented in morerecent times. He was a sensitive observer whohad meditated deeply on the springs of humanaction, especially in women. Of none of hisfellows, even the greatest of them, can wesay this. They have left us pictures of womenwhich are incomparably more tender, or picturesque, or tragic than the searching, deliberateart of Ford could compass. But they lookednearly all from the outside, and were satisfiedJOHN FORD. xvii,اwith the gracious or gorgeous stage-pictureswhich they knew so well how to present. Thisman writes of women not as a dramatist noras a lover, but as one who had searched intimately and felt with instinctive sympathy thefibres of their hearts. He was an analyst; hestrained the limits of his art to the utmost; heforeboded new ways of expression. Thus heis less nearly related to the men who wroteOthello, and A Woman killed with Kindness,and Valentinian, than to those poets and artistsof the naked human soul, the writer of Le Rougeet le Noir, and the yet greater writer of MadameBovary.HAVELOCK ELLIS.Ford.

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THE BANKSIDE AND ITS THEATRES.

HE Bankside in Southwark was from an earlydate, even before the days of Henry VIII.,one of the favourite resorts of Londoners.It was a semi-rural spot, very easy of access,either by walking over Old London Bridge or by means of the river, at that time adelightful and much frequented highway.Swans floated beneath London Bridge;magnificent barges were frequently to be seen; and in the reign of James I. (accord- ing to Taylor, "the Water Poet ") " the number of watermen,and those that live and are maintained bythem, and by the onlylabour of the oar and scull, betwixt the bridge of Windsor andGravesend, cannot be fewer than forty thousand; the cause of thegreater half of which multitude hath beenthe players playing on the Bankside."Various amusem*nts-sports, shows, fencings-took place on the Bankside long before any theatres arose there. Chief among these amusem*nts were bull-baitings and bear-baitings at Paris Garden,and when the theatres began to grow up here-as at a later day they grew up along the opposite Strand-- the baitings and plays were to some extent combined, the stage being movable. TheRose, close to the Bear and Paris Garden, was the first theatrebuilt on the Bankside. Its origin and exact date are not known;it may have existed even before 1584, when it was called the Little Rose. The Swan Theatre was at the western end of the Bankside.Both the Rose and the Swan Theatres were named after existing tenements mentioned in Edward the Sixth's charter, granting the manor of Southwark to the City of London. The Hope Theatre,which was both a bear-garden and a theatre, was erected prior toXX THE BANKSIDE AND ITS THEATRES.the year 1600, and it was here that Ben Jonson's Bartholomew Fair was first acted in 1614. The building was demoli hed in 1656 and houses were built upon its site. About a year previously sevenof the bears belonging to the Bear Garden had been shot by order of Pride, then Sheriff of Surrey, by a company of soldiers. Paris Garden itself became a theatre in 1613. In Dekker's Untrussingofthe Humorous Poet we find it thus alluded to: —"Tucca. Thou hast been in Paris Garden, hast not?Horace. Yes, captain, I ha' played Zulziman there."The most famous of all the Bankside theatres was the Globe, builton the site occupied by Barclay's Brewery in Park Street. A viewwith a detailed notice of the Globe Theatre will be found in thevolume of The Best Plays of Webster and Tourneur.Many persons connected with the theatres lived on the Bankside-Beaumont and Fletcher, Henslowe, Alleyn, Kempe, Lowin.The Falcon Inn was the favourite resort of dramatists and players;and St. Saviour's, close by, is the burial-place of Gower, Fletcher,Massinger, Sir Edward Dyer, the poet, Shakespeare's younger brother, Edmund, and Henslowe, the manager.THE LOVER'S MELANCHOLY. MAFord.BIR HENRY HERBERT licensed thisplay for the stage in 1628 , and it wasacted by the King's Servants at theBlackfriars and Globe Theatres. Itwas published in the following year,and was the first play that Ford printed, perhaps on account of itssuccess on the stage. In one of the commendatory poemsprefixed to the quarto we read:-" Nor seek I fame for thee, when thine own penHath forced a praise long since from knowing men."And although this appears to be Ford's earliest extantplay, we know that plays of his had been acted duringthe previous fifteen years. For the material of the masqueand the passage leading up to it, Ford was indebted toBurton's Anatomy of Melancholy, published a year ortwo previously. The play was revived at Drury Lane in1748 by Macklin, for his wife's benefit; apparently withoutsuccess.To his worthy Friend the Author.MASTER JOHN FORD.I write not to thy play: I'll not beginTo throw acensure upon what hath beenBy the best approved: it can nor fear nor wantThe rage or liking of the ignorant .Nor seek I fame for thee , when thine own penHath forced a praise long since from knowing men.I speak my thoughts, and wish unto the stageA glory from thy studies; that the ageMay be indebted to thee for reprieveOf purer language, and that spite may grieveTo see itself outdone.When thou art read,The theatre may hope arts are not dead,Though long concealed; that poet-apes may fearTo vent their weakness, mend, or quite forbear.This I dare promise; and keep this in store,As thou hast done enough, thou canst do more.WILLIAM SINGLETON.11 In a copy of verses prefixed to Massinger's Emperor ofthe East,Singleton calls himself "the friend and kinsman " of that poet.4b0-01-To my Worthily Respected Friends,NATHANIEL FINCH, JOHN FORD, ESQUIRES,MASTER HENRY BLUNT, MASTER ROBERT ELLICE,and all the rest oftheNOBLE SOCIETY OF GRAY'S INN.My Honoured Friends ,HE account of some leisurable hours ishere summed up, and offered to examination. Importunity of others, oropinion of mine own, hath not urged onany confidence of running the hazard ofa censure. A plurality hath referenceto a multitude, so I care not to pleasemany; but where there is a parity ofcondition , there the freedom of construction makes the bestmusic. This concord hath equally held between you thepatrons and me the presenter. I am cleared of all scrupleof disrespect on your parts; as I am of too slack a merit inmyself. My presumption of coming in print in this kind¹hath hitherto been unreprovable, this piece being the firstthat ever courted reader; and it is very possible that the like compliment with me may soon grow out of fashion . Apractice of which that I may avoid now, I commend to thecontinuance of your loves the memory of his, who, withoutthe protestation of a service , is readily your friend.JOHN FORD.He had previously printed " Fame's Memorial, " and, probably, other poems, now lost.PROLOGUE.To tell ye ,gentlemen , in what true senseThe writer, actors , or the audienceShould mould their judgments for a play, might drawTruth into rules; but we have no such law.Our writer, for himself, would have ye knowThat in his following scenes he doth not oweTo others' fancies , nor hath lain in wait Foranystoleninvention, fromwhoseheightHemightcommendhis own , morethan the rightA scholarclaims, ¹ maywarrantfordelight.It is art's scorn, that some of late have madeThe noble use of poetry a trade .For your parts,gentlemen , to quit his pains ,Yet you will please , that as you meet with strainsOf lighter mixture , but to cast your eyeRather upon the main than on the bye,His hopes stand firm , and we shall find it true ,The LOVER'S MELANCHOLY cured by you.1 An allusion to his debt to Burton , and to the version of thestory of the Nightingale's death, " taken f om Strada's Prolusiones Academica (i. 1) .To my Worthily RespectedNATHANIEL FINCH, JOHN FOMASTER HENRY BLUNT, MASTER Iand all the rest of thNOBLE SOCIETY OF GRAMy Honoured Friends ,HE account of somehere summed up, annation. Importunopinion of mine ownany confidence of rua censure. A plurato a multitude, so Imany; but where tcondition, there the freedom of construcmusic. This concord hath equally hepatrons and me the presenter. I am cof disrespect on your parts; as I am ofmyself. My presumption of coming inhath hitherto been unreprovable, this that ever courted reader; and it is velike compliment with me may soon gropractice of which that I may avoid nowcontinuance of your loves the memorythe protestation of a service , is readily1 He had previously printed " Fame'sbably, other poems, now lost.To tell ye. gentlemen wir The writer, actors , of theShould mout ther jogmet.Truth im rules Dr we a..Our writer for himsel HOLLThat in his following sceneTo others lances. net 2.For any stoler inven.He might comment in U. Ascholar claims 182 12'."It is art's scor . thatThe noble use ofpuels aFor your parts. gertieneYet you will please . the aOflighter mixture DrRather upon the maHis hopes stand firm aThe LOVER'S MEL1 An allusion to ins setstory of "theNightingar et Academica (i. 1).Faid it meand to th fom NDRAMATIS PERSONÆ.PALADOR, Prince of Cyprus.AMETHUS , Cousin to the Prince.MELEANDER, an old Lord.SOPHRONOS, Brother of MELEANDER.MENAPHON, Son of SOPHRONOS.ARETUS, Tutor to the PrinceCORAX, a Physician.PELIAS,CUCULUS ,two foolish Courtiers.RHETIAS (a reduced Courtier) , Servant to EROCLEA.TROLLIO, Servant to MELEANDER.GRILLA, a Page of CUCULUS, in woman's dress.Officers, Attendants, &c .THAMASTA, Sister of AMETHUS, and Cousin to thePrince.EROCLEA (as PARTHENOPHIL) , ) Daughters of CLEOPHILA,KALA, Waiting-maid to THAMASTA.MELEANDER.SCENE-FAMAGOSTA in CYPRUS.THE LOVER'S MELANCHOLY.ACT THE FIRST.SCENE I.-A Room in the Palace.Enter MENAPHON and PELIAS.EN. Dangers! how mean you dangers?that so courtlyYou gratulate my safe return from dangers?Pel. From travels, noble sir.Men.If my experience hath not, truant- like,These are delights;Misspent the time, which I have strove to useFor bettering my mind with observation.Pel. As I am modest, I protest ' tis strange.But is it possible?Men.Pel.What?

To bestrideThe frothy foams of Neptune's surging waves,When blustering Boreas tosseth up the deepAnd thumps a thunder-bounce?Men. Sweet sir, ' tis nothing:Straight comes a dolphin, playing near your ship,Heaving his crooked back up, and presents8THE LOVER'S MELANCHOLY. [ACT I.Afeather-bed to waft ye to the shoreI will not stretchAs easily as if you slept i' the court.Pel. Indeed! is't true, I pray?Men.Your faith upon the tenters. -Prithee, Pelias,Where didst thou learn this language?Pel.I this language!Alas, sir, we that study words and formsOf compliment must fashion all discourseAccording to the nature of the subject.But I am silent: -now appears a sun,Whose shadow I adore.Enter AMETHUS, SOPHRONOS, and Attendants.Men. My honoured father!Soph. From mine eyes, son of my care, my love,The joys that bid thee welcome do too muchSpeak me a child.Men. O princely sir, your hand.Amet. Perform your duties where you owe them first;I dare not be so sudden in the pleasuresThy presence hath brought home.Soph.Here thou still find'stAfriend as noble, Menaphon, as whenThou left'st at thy departure.Men.To him I owe more service—Amet.He shall attendYes, I know it,Pray give leave:your entertainments soon,$Next day, and next day: for an hour or twoI would engross him only.Soph.Amet. Ye're both dismissed.Pel.Noble lord!Your creature and your servant.[Exeunt all but AMETHUS and Menaphon.Amet. Give me thy hand. I will not say, " Thou'rtwelcome; "SCENE 1. ] THE LOVER'S MELANCHOLY. 9That is the common road of common friends.I'm glad I have thee here—O, I want wordsTo let thee know my heart!Men. 'Tis pieced to mine.Amet. Yes, ' tis; as firmly as that holy thingCalled friendship can unite it. Menaphon,My Menaphon, now all the goodly blessingsThat can create a Heaven on earth dwell with thee!Twelve months we have been sundered; but henceforthWe never more will part, till that sad hourIn which death leaves the one of us behind,To see the other's funerals performed.Let's now awhile be free. -How have thy travelsDisburthened thee abroad of discontents?Men. Such cure as sick men find in changing bedsI found in change of airs: the fancy flatteredMy hopes with ease, as theirs do but the griefIs still the same.Amet.Cleophila, thy kinswoman, that maidSuch is my case at home.Ofsweetness and humility, more pitiesHer father's poor afflictions than the tideOf my complaints.Men. Thamasta, my great mistress,Your princely sister, hath, I hope, ere thisConfirmed affection on some worthy choice.Amet. Not any, Menaphon. Her bosom yetIs intermured with ice; though, by the truthOflove, no day hath ever passed whereinI have not mentioned thy deserts, thy constancy,Thy-Come, in troth, I dare not tell thee what,Lest thou mightst think I fawned upon¹-a sinFriendship was never guilty of; for flatteryIs monstrous in a true friend.Men.Wear the old looks too?Does the court¹ So the old edition; probably equivalent to " fawned. "10 THE LOVER'S MELANCHOLY. [ACT I.¡Amet.It does.If thou mean'st the prince,He's the same melancholy manHe was at's father's death; sometimes speaks sense,But seldom mirth; will smile, but seldom laugh;Will lend an ear to business, deal in none;Gaze upon revels, antic fopperies,But is not moved; will sparingly discourse,Hear music; but what most he takes delight inAre handsome pictures. One so young and goodly,So sweet in his own nature, any storyHath seldom mentioned.Men. Why should such as I amGroan under the light burthen of small sorrows,Whenas a prince so potent cannot shunMotions of passion? To be man, my lord,Is to be but the exercise of caresIn several shapes: as miseries do grow,They alter as men's forms; but how none know.Amet. This little isle of Cyprus sure aboundsIn greater wonders both for change and fortuneThan any you have seen abroad.Men.Than anyI have observed abroad: all countries elseTo a free eye and mind yield something rare;And I, for my part, have brought home one jewelOf admirable value.Amet. Jewel, Menaphon!Men. A jewel, my Amethus, a fair youth;A youth, whom, if I were but superstitious,I should repute an excellence more highThan mere creations are: to add delight,I'll tell ye how I found him.Amet. Prithee do.Men. Passing from Italy to Greece, the talesWhich poets of an elder time have feignedSorrow.SCENE 1.] THE LOVER'S MELANCHOLY. IITo glorify their Tempe, bred in meDesire of visiting that paradise.To Thessaly I came; and living private,Without acquaintance of more sweet companionsThan the old inmates to my love, my thoughts,I day by day frequented silent grovesAnd solitary walks. One morning earlyThis accident encountered me: I heardThe sweetest and most ravishing contentionThat art and nature ever were at strife in.¹Amet. I cannot yet conceive what you inferBy art and nature.Men. I shall soon resolve ye.A sound of music touched mine ears, or ratherIndeed entranced my soul. As I stole nearer,Invited by the melody, I sawThis youth, this fair-faced youth, upon his lute,With strains of strange variety and harmony,Proclaiming, as it seemed, so bold a challengeTo the clear quiristers of the woods, the birds,That, as they flocked about him, all stood silent,Wondering at what they heard. I wondered too.Amet. And so do I; good, on!Men. A nightingale,Nature's best skilled musician, undertakesThe challenge, and for every several strainThe well- shaped youth could touch, she sung her own;He could not run division with more artUpon his quaking instrument than she,The nightingale, did with her various notesReply to for a voice and for a sound,Amethus, ' tis much easier to believeThat such they were than hope to hear again.Amet. How did the rivals part?1 Vide (Ford says) Fami. Stradam, lib. ii . Prolus. 6. Acad. 2.Imitat. Claudian. This story has been paraphrased by Crashaw,Ambrose Philips, and others.12 THE LOVER'S MELANCHOLY. [ACT I.Men. You term them rightly;For they were rivals, and their mistress, harmony.-Some time thus spent, the young man grew at lastInto a pretty anger, that a bird,Whom art had never taught cliffs, moods, or notes,Should vie with him for mastery, whose studyHad busied many hours to perfect practice:To end the controversy, in a raptureUpon his instrument he plays so swiftly,So many voluntaries and so quick,That there was curiosity and cunning,Concord in discord, lines of differing methodMeeting in one full centre of delight.Amet. Now for the bird.Men.The bird, ordained to beMusic's first martyr, strove to imitateThese several sounds; which when her warbling throatFailed in, for grief down dropped she on his lute,And brake her heart. It was the quaintest sadness,To see the conqueror upon her hearseTo weep a funeral elegy of tears;That, trust me, my Amethus, I could chideMine own unmanly weakness, that made meAfellow-mourner with him.Amet. I believe thee.Men. He looked upon the trophies of his art,Then sighed, then wiped his eyes, then sighed and cried,66'Alas, poor creature! I will soon revengeThis cruelty upon the author ofit;Henceforth this lute, guilty of innocent blood,Shall never more betray a harmless peaceTo an untimely end: " and in that sorrow,As he was pashing it against a tree,I suddenly stept in.Amet.A truth of mirth and pity.Thou hast discoursed1 Dashing.SCENE 1.] THE LOVER'S MELANCHOLY. t 13Men. I reprievedThe intended execution with entreatiesAnd interruption. -But, my princely friend,It was not strange the music of his handDid overmatch birds, when his voice and beauty,Youth, carriage, and discretion must, from menEndued with reason, ravish admiration:From me they did.Amet.Not to be seen?Men.But is this miracleI won him by degreesTo choose me his companion. Whence he is,Or who, as I durst modestly inquire,So gently he would woo not to make known;Only-for reasons to himself reservedHe told me, that some remnant of his lifeWas to be spent in travel: for his fortunes,They were nor mean nor riotous; his friendsNot published to the world, though not obscure;His country Athens, and his name Parthenophil.Amet. Came he with you to Cyprus?Willingly. Men.The fame of our young melancholy prince,Meleander's rare distractions, the obedienceOfyoung Cleophila, Thamasta's glory,Your matchless friendship, and my desperate love,Prevailed with him; and I have lodged him privatelyIn Famagosta.Amet. Now thou'rt doubly welcome:I will not lose the sight of such a rarityFor one part of my hopes. When d'ye intendTo visit my great-spirited sister?Men.Without offence?Amet.May IWithout offence. - ParthenophilShall find a worthy entertainment too.Thou art not still a coward?1!14 THE LOVER'S MELANCHOLY. [ACT I.Men. She's too excellent,And I too low in merit.Amet. I'll prepareA noble welcome; and, friend, ere we part,Unload to thee an overchargèd heart. [ Exeunt.SCENE II.-Another Room in the Palace.Enter RHETIAS, carelessly attired.Rhe. I will not court the madness of the times;Nor fawn upon the riots that embalmOur wanton gentry, to preserve the dustOf their affected vanities in coffinsOf memorable shame. When commonwealthsTotter and reel from that nobilityAnd ancient virtue which renowns the great,Who steer the helm of government, while mushroomsGrow up, and make new laws to license folly;Why should not I, a May- game, scorn the weightOf my sunk fortunes? snarl¹ at the vicesWhich rot the land, and, without fear or wiBe mine own antic? ³ 'Tis a sport to liveWhen life is irksome, if we will not hugProsperity in others, and contemnAffliction in ourselves. This rule is certain,"He that pursues his safety from the schoolOf state must learn to be madman or fool. "Ambition, wealth, ease, I renounce- the devilThat damns ye here on earth. Or I will beMine own mirth, or mine own tormentor. - So!Here comes intelligence; a buzz o' the court.1 "Snarl" as well as " girl, " is commonly made a dissyllable byour poet: he passed his youth in the neighbourhood of Dartmoor,and probably adopted the practice of that wild district.— Gifford.2 i.e. Carelessly.3 Buffoon.SCENE 11.] THE LOVER'S MELANCHOLY. 15Enter PELIAS.Pel. Rhetias, I sought thee out to tell thee news,New, excellent new news. Cuculus, sirrah,That gull, that young old gull, is coming this way.Rhe. And thou art his forerunner?Pel.Prithee, hear me.Instead of a fine guarded¹ page we've got himAboy, tricked up in neat and handsome fashion;Persuaded him that ' tis indeed a wench,And he has entertained him he does follow him,Carries his sword and buckler, waits on's trencher,Fills him his wine, tobacco; whets his knife,Lackeys his letters, does what service elseHe would employ his man in. Being askedWhyhe is so irregular in courtship,"His answer is, that since great ladies useGentleman ushers to go bare before them,He knows no reason but he may reduceThe courtiers to have women wait on them;And he begins the fashion: he is laughed atMost complimentally. Thou'lt burst to see him.Rhe. Agelastus, so surnamed for his gravity, ³ was a verywise fellow, kept his countenance all days of his life asdemurely as a judge that pronounceth sentence of deathon a poor rogue for stealing as much bacon as wouldserve at a meal with a calf's head. Yet he smiled once,and never but once:-thou art no scholar?Pel. I have read pamphlets dedicated to me.-Dost call him Agelastus? Why did he laugh?Rhe. To see an ass eat thistles. Puppy, go study tobe a singular coxcomb. Cuculus is an ordinary ape; butthou art an ape of an ape.¹i.e. With a livery richly laced or turned up.2 Court etiquette.3 The story is in Pliny, who tells it of Crassus, the grandfather ofthe unfortunate Crassus who fell the victim of his rapacity in Parthia. -Gifford.16 THE LOVER'S MELANCHOLY. [ACT I.- Pel. Thou hast a patent to abuse thy friends.-Look, look, he comes! observe him seriously.Enter CUCULUS followed by GRILLA, both fantasticallydressed.Cuc. Reach me my sword and buckler.Gril. They are here, forsooth.Cuc. How now, minx, how now! where is your duty,your distance? Let me have service methodically tendered; you are now one of us. Your curtsy. [GRILLAcurtsies.] Good! remember that you are to practisecourtship. Was thy father a piper, sayest thou?Cril. A sounder of some such wind-instrument, forsooth.1Cuc. Was he so?-Hold up thy head. Be thoumusical to me, and I will marry thee to a dancer; onethat shall ride on his footcloth, ² and maintain thee in thymuff and hood.Gril. That will be fine indeed.Cuc. Thou art yet but simple.Gril. D'ye think so?Cuc. I have a brain, I have a head-piece: o' my conscience, if I take pains with thee, I should raise thy understanding, girl, to the height of a nurse, or a court-midwifeat least: I will make thee big in time, wench.Gril. E'en do your pleasure with me, sir.Pel. [Coming forward] Noble, accomplished Cuculus!Rhe. [Comingforward] Give me thy fist, innocent.Cuc. Would ' twere in thy belly! there ' tis.Pel. That's well; he's an honest blade, though he beblunt.1 Grilla's answer is meant to intimate that her father was a sowgelder. Sow-gelders, it appears, used formerly to blow a horn . Soin Fletcher's Beggar's Bush, act iii . sc. i:"Enter Higgen disguised as a sow-gelder, singing as follows,Have ye any work for the sow- gelder, oh?My horn goes to high, to low, to high, to low.” —Dyce,2 i.e. A horse's cloth housings.SCENE 11.] THE LOVER'S MELANCHOLY. 171Cuc. Who cares? We can be as blunt as he, for's life.Rhe. Cuculus, there is, within a mile or two, a sow-pighath sucked a brach, ¹ and now hunts the deer, the hare,nay, most unnaturally, the wild-boar, as well as anyhound in Cyprus.Cuc. Monstrous sow-pig! is't true?Pel. I'll be at charge of a banquet on thee for a sightof her.Rhe. Every thing takes afterthe dam that gave it suck.Where hadst thou thy milk?Cuc. I? Why, my nurse's husband was a most excellent maker of sh*ttleco*cks.Pel. My nurse was a woman- surgeon. *Rhe. And who gave thee рар, mouse?Gril. I never sucked, that I remember.Rhe. La now, a sh*ttleco*ck maker! all thy brains arestuck with cork and feather, Cuculus. This learnedcourtier takes after the nurse too; a she- surgeon; whichis, in effect, a mere matcher of colours. Go learn topaint and daub compliments, 'tis the next step to runinto a new suit. My Lady Periwinkle here never sucked:suck thy master, and bring forth moon-calves, fop, do!This is good philosophy, sirs; make use on't.Gril. Bless us, what a strange creature this is!Cuc. A gull, an arrant gull by proclamation.Enter CORAX, passing over the stage.Pel. Corax, the prince's chief physician!What business speeds his haste?—Are all things well, sir?Cor. Yes, yes, yes.Rhe. Phew! you may wheel about, man; we knowyou're proud of your slovenry and practice; ' tis your virtue. The prince's melancholy fit, I presume, holds still.1 The kennel term for a bitch-hound. This anecdote is takenfrom Burton, who took it from Giraldus Cambrensis. The late SirHarry Mildmay had a sow-pig that would apparently do all that Cuculus thinks so monstrous, without having sucked a brach for the matter.- Gifford.2i.e. A dealer in paints and cosmetics for ladies.Ford. C18 THE LOVER'S MELANCHOLY. [ACT I.Cor. So do thy knavery and desperate beggary.Cuc. Aha! here's one will tickle the bạn-dog.¹Rhe. You must not go yet.Cor. I'll stay in spite of thy teeth. There lies my gravity. [ Throws offhis gown. ] Do what thou darest; Istand thee.Rhe. Mountebanks, empirics, quack- salvers, mineralists,wizards, alchemists, cast- apothecaries, old wives and barbers, are all suppositors to the right worshipful doctor,as I take it. Some of ye are the head of your art, andthe horns too--but they come by nature. Thou livestsingle for no other end but that thou fearest to be acuckold.Cor. Have at thee! Thou affectest railing only forthy health; thy miseries are so thick and so lasting, thatthou hast not one poor denier to bestow on opening avein: wherefore, to avoid a pleurisy, thou'lt be sure toprate thyself once a month into a whipping, and bleed inthe breech instead of the arm.Rhe. Have at thee again!Cor. Come!Cuc. There, there, there! O brave doctor!Pel. Let ' em alone.Rhe. Thou art in thy religion an atheist, in thy condi-'tion² a cur, in thy diet an epicure, in thy lust a goat, inthy sleep a hog; thou takest upon thee the habit of agrave physician, but art indeed an impostorous empiric.Physicians are the cobblers, rather the botchers, of men'sbodies; as the one patches our tattered clothes, so theother solders our diseased flesh. Come on.Cuc. To't, to't! hold him to't! hold him to't! to't,to't, to't!Cor. The best worth in thee is the corruption of thymind, for that only entitles thee to the dignity of a louse,1 A dog kept fastened up on account of its fierceness. The term was also applied to dogs employed in bull and bear baiting.2 Disposition.SCENE III.] THE LOVER'S MELANCHOLY. 19a thing bred out of the filth and superfluity of ill humours.Thou bitest anywhere, and any man who defends nothimself with the clean linen of secure honesty; him thoudarest not come near. Thou art fortune's idiot, virtue'sbankrupt, time's dunghill, manhood's scandal, and thineown scourge. Thou wouldst hang thyself, so wretchedlymiserable thou art, but that no man will trust theewith as much money as will buy a halter; and all thystock to be sold is not worth half as much as may procure it.Rhe. Ha, ha, ha! this is flattery, gross flattery.Cor. I have employment for thee, and for ye all. Tut,these are but good-morrows between us.Rhe. Are thy bottles full?Cor. Ofrich wine; let's all suck together.Rhe. Like so many swine in a trough.Cor. I'll shape ye all for a device before the prince:we'll try how that can move him.Rhe. He shall fret or laugh.Cuc. Must I make one?Cor. Yes, and your feminine page too.Gril. Thanks, most egregiously.Pel. I will not slack my part.Cuc. Wench, take my buckler.Cor. Come all unto my chamber: the project is cast:the time only we must attend.Rhe. The melody must agree well and yield sport,When such as these are, knaves and fools, consort.[Exeunt.SCENE III. An Apartment in the House ofTHAMASTA.Enter AMETHUS, THAMASTA and Kala.Amet. Does this show well?Tha.What would you have me do?20 THE LOVER'S MELANCHOLY. [ACT I.Amet. Not like a lady of the trim, new creptOut of the shell of slu*ttish sweat and labourInto the glittering pomp of ease and wantonness,Embroideries, and all these antic fashionsThat shape a woman monstrous; to transformYour education and a noble birthInto contempt and laughter. Sister, sister,She who derives her blood from princes oughtTo glorify her greatness by humility.Tha. Then you conclude me proud?Amet. Young Menaphon,My worthy friend, has loved you long and truly:To witness his obedience to your scorn,Twelve months, wronged gentleman, he undertookA voluntary exile . Wherefore, sister,In this time of his absence have you notDisposed of your affections on some monarch?Or sent ambassadors to some neighbouring kingWith fawning protestations of your graces,Your rare perfections, admirable beauty?This had been a new piece of modestyWould have deserved a chronicle!Tha. You're bitter;1And, brother, by your leave, not kindly ¹ wise.My freedom is my birth's; I am not boundTo fancy your approvements, but my own.Indeed, you are an humble youth! I hear ofYour visits and your loving commendationTo your heart's saint, Cleophila, a virginOf a rare excellence. What though she wantAportion to maintain a portly greatness?Yet ' tis your gracious sweetness to descendSo low; the meekness of your pity leads ye!She is your dear friend's sister! a good soul!An innocent! --Amet. Thamasta!i.e. According to kin.SCENE III. ] THE LOVER LOVER'S MELANCHOLY, 21Tha. I have givenYour Menaphon a welcome home, as fits me;For his sake entertained Parthenophil,The handsome stranger, more familiarlyThan, I may fear, becomes me; yet, for his part,I not repent my courtesies: but you~~Amet. No more, no more! be affable to both;Time may reclaim your cruelty.Tha. I pityTheyouth; and, trust me, brother, love his sadness:He talks the prettiest stories: he deliversHis tales so gracefully, that I could sitAnd listen, nay, forget my meals and sleep,To hear his neat discourses. MenaphonWas well advised in choosing such a friendFor pleading his true love.Amet. Now I commend thee;Thou'lt change at last, I hope.Tha. I fear I shall. [Aside.Enter MENAPHON and PARTHENOPHIL.Amet. Have ye surveyed the garden?Men.A pleasantly contrived delight.Tha."Tis a curious,Your eye, sir,Hath in your travels often met contentsOf more variety?Par. Not any, lady.Men. It were impossible, since your fair presenceMakes every place, where it vouchsafes to shine,More lovely than all other helps of artCan equal.Tha. What you mean by "helps of art,"You know yourself best: be they as they are;You need none, I am sure, to set me forth.Men. 'Twould argue want of manners, more than skill,Not to praise praise itself.22 [ACT I. THE LOVER'S MELANCHOLY.Tha. For your reward,Excellent sister!Henceforth I'll call you servant.¹Amet.Men. 'Tis my first step to honour. May I fallLower than shame, when I neglect all serviceThat may confirm this favour!Tha. Are you well, sir?Par. Great princess, I am well. To see a leagueBetween an humble love, such as my friend's is,And a commanding virtue, such as yours is,Are sure restoratives.Tha. You speak ingeniously. —2Brother, be pleased to show the galleryTo this young stranger. Use the time a while,And we will all together to the court:I will present ye, sir, unto the prince.Par. You're all composed of fairness and true bounty.Amet. Come, come. We'll wait thee, sister.beginningDoth relish happy process.Men. You have blessed me.This[ Exeunt MENAPHON, AMETHUS, and PARTHENOPHIL.Tha. Kala, O Kala!Kal.Tha.Thou art my closet.Kal.I am not to be forced.Tha.Lady?We are private;Lock your secrets close, the.:Never till nowCould I be sensible of being traitorTo honour and to shame.Kal.Tha. I am grown base. -Parthenophil--Kal.You are in love.He's handsome,¹i.e. Acknowledge you as a lover. 2 i.e. Wittily.SCENE III. THE LOVER'S MELANCHOLY. 23Richly endowed; he hath a lovely face,Awinning tongue.Tha. If ever I must fall,In him my greatness sinks: Love is a tyrant,Resisted.Whisper in his ear, how gladlyI would steal time to talk with him one hourBut do it honourably;prithee, Kala,Do not betray me.Kal. Madam, I will make it

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such

a one as he,So noble in his quality, condition,Learning, behaviour, entertainment, love,As Parma could not showa braver man.Vas. You do not well

this was not your promise.

Sor.I care not

let her know her monstrous life

.Ere I'll be servile to so blacka sin,I'll bea curse.- -Woman, come here no more

Learn to repent, and die

for, by my honour,

I hate thee and thy lust

you've been too foul.

Vas.[Aside] This part has been scurvily played.Hip. How foolishly this beast contemns his fate,And shuns the use of that whichI more scornThanI once loved, his love! But let him go

My vengeance shall give comfort to his woe.'[Exit.[Going.Vas. Mistress, mistress, Madam Hippolita! pray,aword or two.Hip. With me, sir?Vas. With you, if you please.1ie. To the woe occasioned by his falsehood.1122 'TIS PITY SHE'S A whor* [ACT II..Hip. What is't?Vas. I know you are infinitely moved now, and youthink you have cause: some I confess you have, but surenot so much as you imagine.Hip. Indeed!Vas. O, you were miserably bitter, which you followedeven to the last syllable; ' faith, you were somewhat tooshrewd by my life , you could not have took my lord ina worse time since I first knew him; to- morrow youshall find him a new man.

Hip. Well, I shall wait his leisure.Vas. Fie, this is not a hearty patience; it comes sourlyfrom you: ' troth, let me persuade you for once.Hip. [Aside] I have it, and it shall be so; thanks,opportunity!-Persuade me! to what?Vas. Visit him in some milder temper. O, if you couldbut master a little your female spleen, how might youhim!winHip. Hewill never love me. Vasques, thou hast beena too trusty servant to such a master, and I believe thyreward in the end will fall out like mine.Vas. So perhaps too.Hip. Resolve thyself it will. Had I one so true, sotruly honest, so secret to my counsels, as thou hast beento him and his, I should think it a slight acquittance,not only to make him master of all I have, but even ofmyself.Vas. O, you are a noble gentlewoman!Hip. Wilt thou feed always upon hopes? well, I knowthou art wise, and seest the reward of an old servantdaily, what it is.Vas. Beggary and neglect.Hip. True; but, Vasques, wert thou mine, and wouldstbe private to me and my designs, I here protest, myselfand all what I can else call mine should be at thy dispose.1 Assure .SCENE III.] 'TIS PITY SHE'S A whor*. 123Vas. [Aside] Work you that way, old mole? then Ihave the wind of you. -I were not worthy of it by anydesert that could lie within my compass: if I couldHip. What then?Vas. I should then hope to live in these my old yearswith rest and security.Hip. Give me thy hand: now promise but thy silence,And help to bring to pass a plot I have,And here, in sight of heaven, that being done,I make the lord of me and mine estate.Vas. Come, you are merry; this is such a happinessthat I can neither think or believe.Hip. Promise thy secrecy, and ' tis confirmed.Vas. Then here I call our good genii for witnesses,whatsoever your designs are, or against whomsoever, Iwill not only be a special actor therein, but never disclose it till it be effected.Hip. I take thy word, and, with that, thee for mine;Come, then, let's more confer of this anon.—On this delicious bane my thoughts shall banquet;Revenge shall sweeten what my griefs have tasted.[Aside, and exit with VASQUES.SCENE III.--The Street.Enter RICHARDETTO and PHILOTIS.Rich. Thou seest, my lovely niece, these strange mishaps,How all my fortunes turn to my disgrace;Wherein I am but as a looker-on,Whiles others act my shame, and I am silent.Phi. But, uncle, wherein can this borrowed shapeGive you content?Rich. I'll tell thee, gentle niece:124 'TIS PITY SHE'S A whor*. [ACT II.Thy wanton aunt in her lascivious riotsLives now secure, thinks I am surely deadIn my late journey to Ligorne for you, —As I have caused it to be rumoured out.Now would I see with what an impudenceShe gives scope to her loose adultery,And how the common voice allows hereof:Thus far I have prevailed.Phi. Alas, I fearO, be not troubled;You mean some strange revenge.Rich.Your ignorance shall plead for you in all:But to our business. -What! you learned for certainHow Signor Florio means to give his daughterIn marriage to Soranzo?Phi. Yes, for certain.Rich. But how find you young Annabella's loveInclined to him?Phi. For aught I could perceive,She neither fancies him or any else.Rich. There's mystery in that, which time must show.She used you kindly?Phi.Rich.Phi. Often.Rich.Yes.And craved your company?•'Tis well; it goes as I could wish.I am the doctor now; and as for you,None knows you: if all fail not, we shall thrive.-But who comes here? I know him; ' tis Grimaldi,A Roman and a soldier, near alliedUnto the Duke of Montferrato, oneAttending on the nuncio of the popeThat now resides in Parma; by which meansHe hopes to get the love of Annabella.Enter GRIMALDI.Grim. Save you, sir.SCENE III.] ' TIS PITY SHE'S A whor*. 125Rich.Grim.And you, sir.I have heardOfyour approved skill, which through the cityIs freely talked of, and would crave your aid.Rich. For what, sir?Grim. Marry, sir, for thisBut I would speak in private.Rich. Leave us, cousin.¹ [Exit PHILOTIS.Grim. I love fair Annabella, and would knowWhether in art there may not be receiptsTo move affection.Rich. Sir, perhaps there may;Not me?But these will nothing profit you.Grim.Rich. Unless I be mistook, you are a manGreatly in favour with the cardinal.Grim. What of that?Rich. In duty to his grace,I will be bold to tell you, if you seekTo marry Florio's daughter, you must firstRemove a bar ' twixt you and her.Grim. Who's that?Rich. Soranzo is the man that hath her heart;And while he lives, be sure you cannot speed.Grim. Soranzo! what, mine enemy? is't he?Rich. Is he your enemy?Grim. The man I hateWorse than confusion; I will to him straight.Rich. Nay, then, take mine advice,Even for his grace's sake the cardinal:I'll find a time when he and she do meet,Of which I'll give you notice; and, to be sureHe shall not ' scape you, I'll provide a poisonTo dip your rapier's point in: if he hadAs many heads as Hydra had, he dies.Grim. But shall I trust thee, doctor?"Cousin "" was frequently used for nephew or niece.126 'TÍS PITY SHE'S A whor*. [ACT II.Rich. As yourself;Doubt not in aught. [Exit GRIMALDI. ] —Thus shallthe fates decreeBy me Soranzo falls, that ruined me. [Exit.SCENE IV. Anotherpart ofthe Street.Enter DONADO with a letter, BERGETTO, and POGGIO.Don. Well, sir, I must be content to be both yoursecretary and your messenger myself. I cannot tell whatthis letter may work; but, as sure as I am alive, if thoucome once to talk with her, I fear thou wilt mar whatsoever I make.Ber. You make, uncle! why, am not I big enough tocarry mine own letter, I pray?Don. Ay, ay, carry a fool's head o' thy own! why,thou dunce, wouldst thou write a letter, and carry itthyself?Ber. Yes, that I would, and read it to her with myown mouth; for you must think, if she will not believeme myself when she hears me speak, she will not believeanother's handwriting. O, you think I am a blockhead,uncle. No, sir, Poggio knows I have indited a lettermyself; so I have.Pog. Yes, truly, sir; I have it in my pocket.Don. A sweet one, no doubt; pray let's see't.Ber. I cannot read my own hand very well, Poggio;read it, Poggio.Don. Begin.Pog. [Reads] "Most dainty and honey- sweet mistress;I could call you fair, and lie as fast as any that lovesyou; but my uncle being the elder man, I leave it tohim, as more fit for his age and the colour of his beard.I am wise enough to tell you I can bourd ' where I see1 Jest.SCENE V.] ' TIS PITY SHE'S A whor*. 127occasion; or if you like my uncle's wit better than mineyou shall marry me; if you like mine better than his,I will marry you, in spite of your teeth. So, commending my best parts to you, I restYours upwards and downwards, or you may choose,Bergetto. "Ber. Ah, ha! here's stuff, uncle!Don. Here's stuff indeed-to shame us all. Pray,whose advice did you take in this learned letter?Pog. None, upon my word, but mine own,Ber. And mine, uncle, believe it, nobody's else; ' twasmine own brain, I thank a good wit for't.Don. Get you home, sir, and look you keep withindoors till I return.Ber. How! that were a jest indeed! I scorn it, i'faith.Don. What! you do not?Ber. Judge me, but I do now.Pog. Indeed, sir, ' tis very unhealthy.Don. Well, sir, if I hear any of your apish running tomotions and fopperies, till I come back, you were asgood no; look to't. [Exit.Ber. Poggio, shall's steal to see this horse with thehead in's tail?Pog. Ay, but you must take heed of whipping.Ber. Dost take me for a child, Poggio?honest Poggio.Come,[Exeunt.SCENE V.-Friar BONAVENTURA'S Cell.Enter Friar and GIOVANNI.Friar. Peace! thou hast told a tale whose every wordThreatens eternal slaughter to the soul;I'm sorry I have heard it: would mine earsHad been one minute deaf, befor the hour¹ Puppet-shows.128 [ACT II. 'TIS PITY SHE'S A whor*.That thou cam'st to me! O young man, castaway,By the religious number of mine order,1I day and night have waked my agèd eyesAbove my strength, to weep on thy behalf;But Heaven is angry, and be thou resolved 2Thou art a man remarked³ to taste a mischief.Look for't; though it come late, it will come sure,Gio. Father, in this you are uncharitable;What I have done I'll prove both fit and good.It is a principle which you have taught,When I was yet your scholar, that the frameAnd composition of the mind doth followThe frame and composition of the body:So, where the body's furniture is beauty,The mind's must needs be virtue; which allowed,Virtue itself is reason but refined ,And love the quintessence of that: this proves,My sister's beauty being rarely fairIs rarely virtuous; chiefly in her love,And chiefly in that love, her love to me:If hers to me, then so is mine to her;Since in like causes are effects alike.Friar. O ignorance in knowledge! Long ago,How often have I warned thee this before!Indeed, if we were sure there were no Deity,Nor Heaven nor Hell, then to be led aloneBy Nature's light-as were philosophersOf elder times-might instance some defence.But ' tis not so: then, madman, thou wilt findThat Nature is in Heaven's positions blind.Gio. Your age o'errules you; had you youth like mine,You'd make her love your heaven, and her divine.Friar. Nay, then I see thou'rt too far sold to hell:It lies not in the compass of my prayersTo call thee back, yet let me counsel thee;Persuade thy sister to some marriage.1 Gifford proposed " founder." 2 Satisfied. 3 Marked out.SCENE V.] ' TIS PITY SHE'S A whor*. 129Gio. Marriage! why, that's to damn her; that's toproveHer greedy variety of lust.Friar. O, fearful! if thou wilt not, give me leaveTo shrive her, lest she should die unabsolved.Gio. At your best leisure, father: then she'll tell youHow dearly she doth prize my matchless love;Then you will know what pity ' twere we twoShould have been sundered from each other's arms.View well her face, and in that little roundYou may observe a world of variety;For colour, lips; for sweet perfumes, her breath;For jewels, eyes; for threads of purest gold,Hair; for delicious choice of flowers, cheeks;Wonder in every portion of that form.¹Hear her but speak, and you will swear the spheresMake music to the citizens in Heaven.But, father, what is else for pleasure framedLest I offend your ears, shall go unnamed.Friar. The more I hear, I pity thee the more,That one so excellent should give those partsAll to a second death.Is but to pray; and yetWouldst thou be ruled.What I can doI could advise thee,Gio.Friar.In what?Why leave her yet;To embrace each other,The throne of mercy is above your trespass;Yet time is left you bothGio.Else let all time be struck quite out of number:She is like me, and I like her, resolved.Friar. No more! I'll visit her. This grieves me most,Things being thus, a pair of souls are lost. [ Exeunt.1 "Throne " in the old edition.130 TIS PITY SHE'S A whor*. [ACT II.SCENE VI. -A Room in FLORIO'S House.Enter FLORIO, DONADO, ANNABELLA, and PUTANA.Flo. Where's Giovanni?Ann. Newly walked abroad,And, as I heard him say, gone to the friar,His reverend tutor.Flo. That's a blessèd man,Aman made up of holiness: I hopeHe'll teach him how to gain another world.Don. Fair gentlewoman, here's a letter sent To you from my young cousin; I dare swearHe loves you in his soul: would you could hearSometimes what I see daily, sighs and tears,As if his breast were prison to his heart!Flo. Receive it , Annabella.Ann. Alas, good man!Don. What's that she said?[Takes the letter.!" Put. An't please you, sir, she said, " Alas, good man!Truly I do commend him to her every night before herfirst sleep, because I would have her dream of him; andshe hearkens to that most religiously.Don. Sayest so? God- a' -mercy, Putana! there's something for thee [Gives her money]: and prithee do whatthou canst on his behalf; ' shall not be lost labour, takemy word for't .Put. Thank you most heartily, sir: now I have a feeling of your mind, let me alone to work.Ann. Guardian,-—Put. Did you call?Ann. Keep this letter.Don. Signior Florio, in any case bid her read it instantly.Flo. Keep it for what? pray, read it me hereright.Ann. I shall, sir. [She reads the letter.Don. How d'ye find her inclined, signior?Flo. Troth, sir, I know not how; not all so well,SCENE VI.] ' TIS PITY SHE'S A whor*. 131As I could wish.Ann. Sir, I am bound to rest your cousin's debtor.The jewel I'll return; for if he love,I'll count that love a jewel.Don.Nay, keep them both, sweet maid.Ann.Indeed I will not keep it.Flo.Mark you that?You must excuse me,Where's the ring,That which your mother, in her will, bequeathed,And charged you on her blessing not to give 'tTo any but your husband? send back that.Ann. I have it not.Flo.Ha! have it not! where is't?Ann. My brother in the morning took it from me,Said he would wear't to day.Flo.To young Bergetto's love? are you content toMatch with him? speak.Don.Well, what do you sayThere is the point, indeed.Ann. [Aside] What shall I do? I must say some1 thing now.Flo. What say? why d'ye not speak?Ann. Sir, with your leaveYes, you have it.Please you to give me freedom?Flo.Ann. Signior Donado, if your nephew meanTo raise his better fortunes in his match,The hope of me will hinder such a hope:Sir, ifyou love him, as I know you do,Find one more worthy of his choice than me:In short, I'm sure I shall not be his wife.Don. Why, here's plain dealing; I commend theefor't;And all the worst I wish thee is, Heaven bless thee!Your father yet and I will still be friends:-Shall we not, Signior Florio?132 'TIS PITY SHE'S A whor* [ACT II. .Flo. Yes; why not?Look, here your cousin comes.Enter BERGETTO and POGGIO.Don. [ Aside] 0, coxcomb! what doth he make here?Ber. Where's my uncle, sirs?Don. What's the news now?Ber. Save you, uncle, save you! --You must not thinkI come for nothing, masters. —And how, and how is't?what, you have read my letter? ah, there I -tickled you,i'faith .Pog. [Aside to BERGETTO] But ' twere better you hadtickled her in another place.Ber. Sirrah sweetheart, I'll tell thee a good jest; andriddle what ' tis.Ann. You say you'll tell me.Ber. As I was walking just now in the street, I met aswaggering fellow would needs take the wall of me; andbecause he did thrust me, I very valiantly called himrogue. He hereupon bade me draw; I told him I hadmore wit than so; but when he saw that I would not, hedid so maul me with the hilts of his rapier, that my headsung whilst my feet capered in the kennel.Don. [ Aside] Was ever the like ass seen!Ann. And what did you all this while?Ber. Laugh at him for a gull, till I saw the blood runabout mine ears, and then I could not choose but findin my heart to cry; till a fellow with a broad beardthey say he is a new- come doctor-called me into hishouse, and gave me a plaster, look you, here ' tis: —and,sir, there was a young wench washed my face and handsmost excellently; i ' faith, I shall love her as long as Ilive for't. Did she not, Poggio?Pog. Yes, and kissed him too.Ber. Why, la, now, you think I tell a lie, uncle, Iwarrant.Don. Would he that beat thy blood out of thy headSCENE VI. ] ' TIS PITY SHE'S A whor*. 133had beaten some wit into it! for I fear thou never wilthave any.Ber. O, uncle, but there was a wench would havedone a man's heart good to have looked on her. -Bythislight, she had a face methinks worth twenty of you,Mistress Annabella.Don. [Aside] Was ever such a fool born!Ann. I amglad she liked' you sir.Ber. Are you so? by my troth, I thank you, forsooth.Flo. Sure, ' twas the doctor's niece, that was last daywith us here.Ber. 'Twas she, ' twas she.Don. How do you know that, simplicity?Ber. Why, does not he say so? if I should have said.no, I should have given him the lie, uncle, and so havedeserved a dry beating again: I'll none of that.Flo. A very modest well-behaved young maidAs I have seen.Don. Is she indeed?Flo. Indeed she is, if I have any judgment.Don. Well, sir, now you are free: you need not care'for sending letters now; you are dismissed, your mistresshere will none of you.Ber. No! why, what care I for that? I can havewenches enough in Parma for half-a-crown a- piece:cannot I, Poggio?Pog. I'll warrant you, sir.Don. Signior Florio,I thank you for your free recourse you gaveFor my admittance: and to you, fair maid,Thatjewel I will give you 'gainst your marriage.-Come, will you go, sir?Ber. Ay, marry, will I. -Mistress, farewell, mistress;I'll come again to- morrow; farewell, mistress.[ Exeunt DONADO, BERGETTO, and POGGIO.1 i.e. Pleased.f134 'TIS PITY SHE'S A whor*. [ACT II.Enter GIOVANNI.Flo. Son, where have you been? what, alone, alonestill?I would not have it so; you must forsakeThis over-bookish humour. Well, your sisterHath shook the fool off.Gio. 'Twas no match for her.Flo. 'Twas not indeed; I meant it nothing less;Soranzo is the man I only like: —Look on him, Annabella.--Come, ' tis supper-time,And it grows late.Gio. Whose jewel's that?Ann. Some sweetheart's.[Exit.Gio.Ann.Signior Donado, gave it me to wearAgainst my marriage.Gio.Send it him back again.So I think.A lusty youth,But you shall not wear it:What, you are jealous?Ann.Gio. That you shall know anon, at better leisure.Welcome sweet night! the evening crowns the day.[Exeunt.ACT THE THIRD.SCENE I.-A Room in DONADO'S House.Enter BERGETTO and POGGIO.ERGETTO. Does my uncle think tomake me a baby still? No, Poggio; heshall know I have a sconce¹ now.Peg. Ay, let him not bob you off likean ape with an apple.Ber. 'Sfoot, I will have the wench, if he were ten uncles, in despite of his nose, Poggio.Pog. Hold him to the grindstone, and give not a jotofground: she hath in a manner promised you already.Ber. True, Poggio; and her uncle, the doctor, sworeIshould marry her.Pog. He swore; I remember.Ber. And I will have her, that's more: didst see thecodpiece-point she gave me and the box of marmalade?Pog. Very well; and kissed you, that my chops wateredat the sight on't.There's no way but to clap-up a marriage in hugger-mugger.Ber. I will do't; for I tell thee, Poggio, I begin togrow valiant methinks, and my courage begins to rise.Pog. Should you be afraid of your uncle?Ber. Hang him, old doting rascal! no: I say I will have her.Pog. Lose no time, then.Ber. I will beget a race of wise men and constables1Head,136 'TIS PITY SHE'S A whor*. [ACT III."that shall cart whor*s at their own charges; and breakthe duke's peace ere I have done myself. Come away.[Exeunt.SCENE II .-A Room in FLORIO'S House.Enter FLORIO, GIOVANNI, SORANZO, ANNABELLA,PUTANA, and Vasques.Flo. My Lord Soranza, though I must confessThe proffers that are made me have been greatIn marriage of my daughter, yet the hopeOfyour still rising honours have prevailedAbove all other jointures: here she is;She knows my mind; speak for yourself to her, -And hear, you, daughter, see you use him nobly:For any private speech I'll give you time.—Come, son, and you the rest; let them alone;Agree they as they may.Sor. I thank you, sir.Gio. [ Aside to ANNABELI A] . Sister, be not all woman;think on me.Sor. Vasques, -1 Vas.Sor.My lord?Attend me without.[ Exeunt all but SORANZO and Annabella.Ann. Sir, what's your will with me?Sor.What I should tell you? .Ann.Do you not knowYes; you'll say you love me.Sor. And I will swear it too; will you believe it?Ann. ' Tis no point of faith.Enter GIOVANNI in the Gallery above.Sor. Have you not will to love?Ann. Not you.Sor. Whom then?SCENE I. ] 'TIS PITY SHE'S A whor*.Ann.137That's as the fates infer.Gio. [ Aside] Of those I'm regent now.Sor.Ann. To live and die a maid.Sor.What mean you, sweet?O, that's unfit.Gio. [Aside] Here's one can say that's but a woman'snote.Sor. Did you but see my heart, then would youSwearAnn. That you were dead.Gio. [Aside]Sor. See you these true love's tears?Ann.Gio. [ Aside]That's true, or somewhat near it .No.Now she winks.Yet nothing speak.What is it?To let me liveSor. They plead to you for grace.Ann.Sor. O, grant my suit!Ann.Sor.Ann. Take it.Sor.Stillyours.That is not mine to give. 'Ann.Gio. [ Aside] One such another word would kill hishopes.Sor. Mistress , to leave those fruitless strifes of wit,Know I have loved you long and loved you truly:Not hope of what you have, but what you are,Hath drawn me on; then let me not in vainStill feel the rigour of your chaste disdain:I'm sick, and sick to the heart.Ann.Sor. What mean you?Ann.Help, aqua-vitæ!Why, I thought you had been sick.There, sir, she was too nimble.Sor. Do you mock my love?Gio. [Aside]Sor. [Aside] ' Tis plain she laughs at me.—Thesescornful taunts138 'TIS PITY SHE'S A whor*[ACT III..Neither become your modesty or years.Ann. You are no looking-glass: or if you were,I'd dress my language by you.Gio. [Aside]I'm confirmed.Ann. To put you out of doubt, my lord, methinksYour common sense should make you understandThat if I loved you, or desired your love,Some way I should have given you better taste:But since you are a nobleman, and oneI would not wish should spend his youth in hopes,Let me advise you to forbear your suit,And think I wish you well , I tell you this.Sor. Is't you speak this?Ann. Yes, I myself; yet know, --Thus far I give you comfort, -if mine eyes.Could have picked out a man amongst all thoseThat sued to me to make a husband of,You should have been that man: let this suffice;Be noble in your secrecy and wise.Gio. [Aside] Why, now I see she loves me.Ann. One word more.As ever virtue lived within your mind,As ever noble courses were your guide,As ever you would have me know you lovedLet not my father know hereof by you:If I hereafter find that I must marry,It shall be you or none.Sor.Ann. O, 0 my head!I take that promise.Sor. What's the matter? not well?Ann. O, I begin to sicken!Gio.me,+Heaven forbid!Sor. Help, help, within there, ho![Aside, and exit from above.Re-enter FLORIO, GIOVANNI, and PUTANA.Look to your daughter, Signior Florio.SCENE III. ] ' TIS PITY SHE'S A whor*. 139Flo. Hold her up, she swoons.Gio. Sister, how d'ye?Ann. Sick, brother, are you there?Flo. Convey her to her bed instantly, whilst I send fora physician: quickly, I say.Put. Alas, poor child!Vas. My lord, -[ Exeunt all but SORANZO.Re-enter VASQUES.Sor. O, Vasques, now I doubly am undoneBoth in my present and my future hopes!She plainly told me that she could not love,And thereupon soon sickened; and I fearHer life's in danger.Vas. [ Aside] By'r lady, sir, and so is yours, if youknew all.—' Las, sir, I am sorry for that may be ' tis butthe maid's- sickness, an over-flux of youth; and then, sir,there is no such present remedy as present marriage.But hath she given you an absolute denial?Sor. She hath, and she hath not; I'm full of grief:But what she said I'll tell thee as we go. [Exeunt.SCENE III. -Another Room in the same.Enter GIOVANNI and PUTANA.Put. O, sir, we are all undone, quite undone, utterlyundone, and shamed for ever! your sister, O, yoursister!Gio. What of her? for Heaven's sake, speak; howdoes she?Put. O, that ever I was born to see this day!Gio. She is not dead, ha? is she?Put. Dead! no, she is quick; ' tis worse, she is withchild. You know what you have done; Heaven forgiveye! 'tis too late to repent now, Heaven help us!Gio. With child? how dost thou know't?140 [ACT III. 'TIS PITY SHE'S A whor*.Put. Howdo I know't! am I at these years ignorantwhat the meanings of qualms and water-pangs be? ofchanging of colours, queasiness of stomachs, pukings,and another thing that I could name? Do not, for herand your credit's sake, spend the time in asking how, andwhich way, ' tis so: she is quick, upon my word: if youlet a physician see her water, you're undone.Gio. But in what case is she?Put. Prettily amended: 'twas but a fit, which I soonespied, and she must look for often henceforward.Gio. Commend me to her, bid her take no care; ¹Let not the doctor visit her, I charge you;Make some excuse, till I return. -O, me!I have a world of business in my head.Do not discomfort her.How do these news perplex me! —If my fatherCome to her, tell him she's recovered well;Say ' twas but some ill diet-d'ye hear, woman?Look you to't.Put. I will, sir. [Exeunt.SCENE IV. -Another Room in the same.Enter FLORIO and RICHARDETTO.Flo. And how d'ye find her, sir?Rich. Indifferent well;I see no danger, scarce perceive she's sick,But that she told me she had lately eatenMelons, and, as she thought, those disagreedWith her young stomach.Flo. Did you give her aught?Rich. An easy surfeit-water, nothing else.You need not doubt her health: I rather thinkHer sickness is a fulness of the blood, -You understand me?1 Not be too anxious.SCENE IV. ] ' TIS PITY SHE'S Awhor*.141 Flo. I do; you counsel well;And once, within these few days, will so order ' tShe shall be married ere she know the time.Rich. Yet let not haste, sir, make unworthy choice;That were dishonour.Flo. Master Doctor, no;I will not do so neither: in plain words,My Lord Soranzo is the man I mean.Rich. A noble and avirtuous gentleman.Flo. As any is in Parma. Not far henceDwells Father Bonaventure, a grave friar,Once tutor to my son: now at his cellI'll have ' em married.Rich. You have plotted wisely.Flo. I'll send one straight to speak with him to-night.Rich.Soranzo's wise; he will delay no time.Flo. It shall be so.Friar.Enter Friar and GIOVANNI.Good peace be here and love!Flo.Welcome,religious friar; you are oneThat still bring blessing to the place you come to.Gio. Sir, with what speed I could, I did my bestTo draw this holy man from forth his cellTo visit my sick sister; that with wordsOf ghostly comfort, in this time of need,He might absolve her, whether she live or die.Flo. 'Twas well done, Giovanni; thou hereinHast showed aChristian's care, a brother's love.Come, father, I'll conduct you to her chamber,And one thing would entreat you.Friar. Say on, sir.Flo. I have a father's dear impressionAnd wish,before I fall into my grave,That I might see her married, as ' tis fit:A word from you, grave man, will win her moreThan all our best persuasions.Friar. Gentle sir,All this I'll say, that Heaven may prosper her. [Exeunt.}142 'TIS PITY SHE'S A whor*. [ACT III.SCENE V. -A Room in RICHARDETTO's House.Enter GRIMALDI.Grim. Now ifthe doctor keep his word, Soranzo,Twenty to one you miss your bride. I know'Tis an unnoble act, and not becomesA soldier's valour; but in terms of love,Where merit cannot sway, policy must:I am resolved, if this physicianPlay not on both hands, then Soranzo falls.Enter RICHARDETTO.Rich. You're come as I could wish; this very nightSoranzo, ' tis ordained, must be affied¹To Annabella, and, for aught I know,Married.Grim. How!Rich. Yet your patience:-The place, ' tis Friar Bonaventure's cell.Now I would wish you to bestow this nightIn watching thereabouts; ' tis but a night:you miss now, to-morrow I'll know all.Grim. Have you the poison?Rich.If1Here ' tis, in this box:

Doubt nothing, this will do't; in any case,As you respect your life, be quick and sure.Grim. I'll speed him.Rich. Do.--Away; for ' tis not safeEver my love!You should be seen much here.Grim. And mine to you.Rich. So if this hit, I'll laugh and hug revenge;And they that now dream of a wedding-feastMay chance to mourn the lusty bridegroom's ruin.But to my other business -Niece Philotis![Exit.Enter PHILOTIS.Phi, Uncle?1 Contracted.SCENE VI. ] 'TIS PITY SHE'S A whor*. 143Rich. My lovely niece!You have bethought ye?Phi.Yes,—and, as you counselled,Fashioned my heart to love him: but he swearsHe will to-night be married: for he fearsHis uncle else, if he should know the drift,Will hinder all, and call his coz to shrift.Rich. To-night! why, best of all: but, let me see—Ay-ha! yes, so it shall be-in disguiseWe'll early to the friar's; I have thought on't.Phi. Uncle, he comes.Rich.Enter BERGETTO and POGGIO.Welcome, my worthy coz.[Kisses her.Ber. Lass, pretty lass, come buss, lass! A-ha,Poggio!Rich. [ Aside. ] There's hope of this yet.-You shall have time enough; withdraw a little;We must confer at large.Ber. Have you not sweetmeats or dainty devices forme?Phi. You shall have enough, sweetheart.Ber. Sweetheart! mark that, Poggio. -By my troth, Icannot choose but kiss thee once more for that word,"sweetheart. ” —Poggio, I have a monstrous swellingabout my stomach. whatsoever the matter be.Pog. You shall have physic for't, sir.Rich. Time runs apace.Ber. Time's a blockhead.Rich. Be ruled: when we have done what's fit to do,Then you may kiss your fill, and bed her too. [Exeunt.SCENE VI. -ANNABELLA's Chamber.A table with wax lights; ANNABELLA at confession beforethe Friar; she weeps and wrings her hands.Friar. I'm glad to see this penance; for, believe me,144 'TIS PITY SHE'S A whor*. [ACT III.You have unripped a soul so foul and guilty,As, I must tell you true, I marvel howThe earth hath borne you up: but weep, weep on,These tears may do you good; weep faster yet,Whiles I do read a lecture.Ann. Wretched creature!Friar. Ay, you are wretched, miserably wretched,Almost condemned alive. There is a place, -List, daughter!—in a black and hollow vault,Where day is never seen; there shines no sun,But flaming horror of consuming fires,A lightless sulphur, choked with smoky fogsOf an infected darkness: in this placeDwell many thousand thousand sundry sortsOf never- dying deaths: there damnèd soulsRoar without pity; there are gluttons fedWith toads and adders; there is burning oilPoured down the drunkard's throat; the usurerIs forced to sup whole draughts of molten gold;There is the murderer for ever stabbed,Yet can he never die; there lies the wantonOn racks of burning steel, whiles in his soulHe feels the torment of his raging lust.Ann. Mercy! O, merey!Friar. There stand these wretched thingsWho have dreamed out whole years in lawless sheetsAnd secret incests, cursing one another.Then you will wish each kiss your brother gaveHad been a dagger's point; then you shall hearHow he will cry, " O, would my wicked sisterHad first been damned, when she did yield to lust! "-But soft, methinks I see repentance workNew motions in your heart: say, how is't with you?Ann. Is there no way left to redeem my miseries?Friar. There is, despair not; Heaven is merciful,And offers grace even now. 'Tis thus agreed:First, for your honour's safety, that you marrySCENE VII. ] ' TIS PITY SHE'S Awhor*.145My Lord Soranzo; next, to save your soul,Leave off this life, and henceforth live to him.Ann. Ay me!Friar. Sigh not; I know the baits of sinAre hard to leave; O, ' tis a death to do't:Remember what must come. Are you content?Ann. I am.Friar.Who's near us there?I like it well; we'll take the time.—Enter FLORIO and GIOVANNI.Flo. Did you call, father?Friar. Is Lord Soranzo come?Flo.He stays below.I have,Friar. Have you acquainted him at full?Flo.And he is overjoyed.Friar.Bid him come near.Gio. [Aside]And so are we.My sister weeping! Ha![ ExitFather, I am.I fear this friar's falsehood. -I will call him.Flo.Daughter, are you resolved?Ann.Re-enter GIOVANNI with SORANZO and VASQUES.Flo. My Lord Soranzo, hereGive me your hand; for that I give you this.Sor.Lady, say you so too?Ann.[Joins their hands.To live with you and yours I do, and vow .Friar.Timely resolved:My blessing rest on both!You may perform it on the morning sun.More to be done,[ Exeunt.Ford.L146 'TIS PITY SHE'S A whor*, [ACT III.SCENE VII .-The Street before the Monastery.Enter GRIMALDI with his rapier drawn anda dark lantern.Grim. 'Tis early night as yet, and yet too soonTo finish such a work; here I will lieTo listen who comes next. [He lies down.Enter BERGETTO and PHILOTIS disguised, followed at ashort distance by RICHARDETTO and POGGIO.Ber. We are almost at the place, I hope, sweetheart.Grim, [Aside] I hear them near, and heard one say"sweetheart. "'Tis he; now guide my hand, some angry justice,Home to his bosom! -Now have at you, sir![ Stabs BERGETTO and exit.Ber. O, help, help! here's a stitch fallen in my guts:O for a flesh-tailor quickly! -Poggio!Phi. What ails my love?Ber. I am sure I cannot piss forward and backward,and yet I am wet before and behind. —Lights! lights!ho, lights!Phi. Alas, some villain here has slain my love!Rich. O, Heaven forbid it! -Raise up the next neighboursInstantly, Poggio, and bring lights.How is't, Bergetto? slain! It cannot be;Are you sure you're hurt?[Exit POGGIO.Ber. O, my belly seethes like a porridge-pot! Somecold water, I shall boil over else; my whole body is ina sweat, that you may wring my shirt; feel here. -Why,Poggio!Re-enter POGGIO with Officers and lights.Pog. Here. Alas, how do you?Rich. Give me a light. -What's here? all blood! —O,sirs,Signior Donado's nephew now is slain.SCENE VIII.] ' TIS PITY SHE'S A whor*. 147Follow the murderer with all the hasteUp to the city, he cannot be far hence:Follow, I beseech you.Officers. Follow, follow, follow! [ Exeunt.Rich. Tear off thy linen, coz, to stop his wounds.—Be of good comfort, man.Ber. Is all this mine own blood? nay, then, goodnight with me. -Poggio, commend me to my uncle,dost hear? bid him, for my sake, make much of thiswench.--O, I am going the wrong way sure, my bellyaches so. O, farewell, Poggio! -O, O!-Phi. O, he is dead!Pog.Rich.[Dies.How! dead!He's dead indeed;'Tis now too late to weep: let's have him home,And with what speed we may find out the murderer.Pog. O, my master! my master! my master![ Exeunt.SCENE VIII .-A Room in HIPPOLITA's House.Enter VASQUES and HIPPOLITA,Hip, Betrothed?Vas. I saw it.Hip. And when's the marriage-day?Vas. Some two days hence.Hip. Two days! why, man, I would but wish two hoursTo send him to his last and lasting sleep;And, Vasques, thou shalt see I'll do it bravely.Vas. I do not doubt your wisdom, nor, I trust, youmy secrecy; I am infinitely yours.Hip. I will be thine in spite of my disgrace.--So soon? O wicked man, I durst be swornHe'd laugh to see me weep.148 'TIS PITY SHE'S A whor*. [ACT III.Vas. And that's a villanous fault in him.Hip. No, let him laugh; I'm armed in my resolves:Be thou still true.Vas. I should get little by treachery against so hopefula preferment as I am like to climb to.Hip. Even to-my bosom, Vasques. Let my youthRevel in these new pleasures: if we thrive,He now hath but a pair of days to live. [Exeunt.SCENE IX. —The Street before the Cardinal's Gates.Enter FLORIO, DONADO, RICHARDETTO, POGGIO, andOfficers.Flo. 'Tis bootless now to show yourself a child,Signior Donado; what is done, is done:Spend not the time in tears, but seek for justice.Rich. I must confess somewhat I was in faultThat had not first acquainted you what lovePassed ' twixt him and my niece; but, as I live,His fortune grieves me as it were mine own.Don. Alas, poor creature! he meant no man harm,That I am sure of.Flo. I believe that too.But stay, my masters: are you sure you sawThe murderer pass here?1st Off. An it please you, sir, we are sure we saw aruffian, with a naked weapon in his hand all bloody, getinto my lord cardinal's grace's gate; that we are sure of;but for fear of his grace --bless us! -we durst go nofarther.Don. Know you what manner of man he was?1st Off. Yes, sure, I know the man; they say he is asoldier; he that loved your daughter, sir, an't please ye;'twas he for certain .Flo. Grimaldi, on my life!SCENE IX. ] ' TIS PITY SHE'S A whor*.149Ist Off. Ay, ay, the same.Rich. The cardinal is noble; he no doubtWill give true justice .Don. Knock some one at the gate.Pog. I'll knock, sir.[Knocks.Serv. [ Within. ] What would ye?Flo. We require speech with the lord cardinalAbout some present business: pray informHis grace that we are here.Enter the Cardinal, followed by GRIMALDI.Car. Why, how now, friends! what saucy mates areyouThat know nor duty nor civility?Are we a person fit to be your host;Or is our house become your common inn,To beat our doors at pleasure? What such hasteIs yours, as that it cannot wait fit times?Are you the masters of this commonwealth,And know no more discretion? O, your newsIs here before you; you have lost a nephew,Donado, last night by Grimaldi slain:Is that your business? well, sir, we have knowledge on't;Let that suffice.Grim. In presence of your grace,In thought I never meant Bergetto harm:But, Florio, you can tell with how much scornSoranzo, backed with his confederates,Hath often wronged me; I to be revenged, —For that I could not win him else to fight,-Had thought by way of ambush to have killed him,But was unluckily therein mistook;Else he had felt what late Bergetto did:And though my fault to him were merely chance,Yet humbly I submit me to your grace,To do with me as you please.Car.1[Kneeling.Rise up, Grimaldi.-[He rises.150 'TIS PITY SHE'S A whor*. [ACT III.You citizens of Parma, if you seekFor justice, know, as nuncio from the pope,For this offence I here receive GrimaldiInto his holiness' protection:He is no common man, but nobly born,Of princes' blood, though you, Sir Florio,Thought him too mean a husband for your daughter.If more you seek for, you must go to Rome,For he shall thither: learn more wit, for shame.-Bury your dead. -Away, Grimaldi; leave ' em![Exeunt Cardinal and GRIMALDI.Don. Is this a churchman's voice? dwells justice here?Flo. Justice is fled to Heaven, and comes no nearer.Soranzo!-was't for him? O, impudence!Had he the face to speak it, and not blush?Come, come, Donado, there's no help in this ,When cardinals think murder's not amiss.Great men may do their wills, we must obey;But Heaven will judge them for't another day. [ Exeunt.ACT THE FOURTH.SCENE I. -A Room in FLORIO'S House.A banquet setout; hautboys. Enter the Friar, GIOVANNI,ANNABELLA, PHILOTIS, SORANZO, DONADO, FLORIO,RICHARDETTO, PUTANA, and VASQUES.RIAR. These holy rites performed, nowtake your timesTo spend the remnant of the day in `feast:Such fit repasts are pleasing to thesaints,Who are your guests, though not withTo be beheld. -Long prosper in this day,You happy couple, to each other's joy![mortal eyesSor. Father, your prayer is heard; the hand of goodnessHath been a shield for me against my death:And, more to bless me, hath enriched my lifeWith this most precious jewel; such a prizeAs earth hath not another like to this.-Cheer up, my love:-and, gentlemen my friends,Rejoice with me in mirth: this day we'll crownWith lusty cups to Annabella's health.Gio. [Aside] O torture! were the marriage yet undone,Ere I'd endure this sight, to see my loveClipt by another, I would dare confusion,And stand the horror of ten thousand deaths.1 Embraced.152 'TIS PITY SHE'S A whor*. [ACT IV.Vas. Are you not well, sir?Gio. Prithee, fellow, wait;I need not thy officious diligence.Flo. Signior Donado, come, you must forgetYour late mishaps, and drown your cares in wine.Sor. Vasques!Vas.Sor.Mylord?Reach me that weighty bowl.Here, brother Giovanni, here's to you;Your turn come next, though now a bachelor;Here's to your sister's happiness and mine![Drinks and offers him the bowl.Gio. I cannot drink.Sor. What!Gio."Twill indeed offend me.[Hautboys.Ann. Pray, do not urge him, if he be not willing.certain youngFlo. How now! what noise ¹ is this?Vas. O, sir, I had forgot to tell you;maidens of Parma, in honour to Madam Annabella'smarriage, have sent their loves to her in a Masque, forwhich they humbly crave your patience and silence.Sor. We are much bound to them; so much the moreAs it comes unexpected; guide them in.Enter HIPPOLITA, followed by Ladies in white robes withgarlands of willows, all masked. Music and a dance.Thanks, lovely virgins! now might we but knowTo whom we've been beholding for this love,We shall acknowledge it.Hip.What think you now?All.Hip.Yes, you shall know. [Unmasks.Hippolita!'Tis she;Be not amazed; nor blush, young lovely bride;I come not to defraud you of your man:1 Music.SCENE 1. ] ' TIS PITY SHE'S A whor*.153'Tis now no time to reckon- up the talkWhat Parma long hath rumoured of us both:Let rash report run on; the breath that vents itWill, like a bubble, break itself at last.But now to you, sweet creature; lend's your handPerhaps it hath been said that I would claimSome interest in Soranzo, now your lordWhat I have right to do, his soul knows best:

But in my duty to your noble worth,Sweet Annabella, and my care of you, —Here, take, Soranzo, take this hand from me;I'll once more join what by the holy churchIs finished and allowed. -Have I done well?Sor. You have too much engaged us.Hip.That you may know my single¹ charity,Freely I here remit all interest

-

One thing more.I e'er could claim, and give you back your vows;And to confirm't,-reach me a cup of wine, —[VASQUES gives her a poisoned cup.My Lord Soranzo, in this draught I drinkLong rest t'ye! [She drinks].—[ Aside to VASQUES] Lookto it,Vasques.Vas. Aside to HIPPOLITA] Fear nothing.Sor. Hippolita, I thank you; and will pledgeThis happy union as another life.—Wine, there!Vas. You shall have none; neither shall you pledgeher.Hip. How!Vas. Know now,Mistress She- devil, your own mischievous treachery hath killed you; I must not marryyou.Hip. Villain!All.What's the matter?Vas. Foolish woman, thou art now like a firebrand¹ Single- minded.154 'TIS PITY SHE'S A whor*. [ACT IV.that hath kindled others and burnt thyself:-troppo sperar,inganna,' -thy vain hope hath deceived thee; thou artbut dead; if thou hast any grace, pray.Hip. Monster!Vas. Die in charity, for shame. -This thing of malice,this woman, had privately corrupted me with promise of -marriage, under this politic reconciliation, to poison mylord, whiles she might laugh at his confusion on his marriage-day. I promised her fair; but I knew what myreward should have been, and would willingly havespared her life, but that I was acquainted with the dangerof her disposition; and now have fitted her a just payment in her own coin: there she is, she hath yet²-and end thy days in peace, vile woman; as for life, there'sno hope; think not on't.All. Wonderful justice!Rich. Heaven, thou art righteous.Hip.O, ' tis true;I feel my minute coming. Had that slaveKept promise, -O, my torment! —thou this hourHadst died, Soranzo; -heat above hell- fire! --Yet, ere I pass away, -cruel, cruel flames!—Take here my curse amongst you may thy bedOf marriage be a rack unto thy heart,Burn blood, and boil in vengeance; -O, my heart,My flame's intolerable! —mayst thou liveTo father bastards; may her womb bring forthMonsters, and die together in your sins,Hated, scorned, and unpitied! —O, O!Flo. Was e'er so vile a creature!Rich.Of lust and pride.Ann.[Dies.Here're the endIt is a fearful sight.Sor. Vasques, I know thee now a trusty servant,Too much hope brings disappointment.2 The old copy has a considerable double break here, probably from some defect in the MS.SCENE II.] ' TIS PITY SHE'S A whor*. 155And never will forget thee. -Come, my love,We'll home, and thank the heavens for this escape.-Father and friends, we must break up this mirth;It is too sad a feast.Don. Bear hence the body.Friar. [Aside to GIOVANNI] Here's an ominouschange!Mark this, my Giovanni, and take heed!—I fear the event: that marriage seldom's goodWhere the bride- banquet so begins in blood. [ Exeunt.SCENE II . -A Room in RICHARDETTO'S House.Enter RICHARDETTO and PHILOTIS.Rich. My wretched wife, more wretched in her shameThan in her wrongs to me, hath paid too soonThe forfeit of her modesty and life.And I am sure, my niece, though vengeance hover,Keeping aloof yet from Soranzo's fall,Yet he will fall, and sink with his own weight.I need not now-my heart persuades me so—To further his confusion; there is OneAbove begins to work: for, as I hear,Debates already ' twixt his wife and himThicken and run to head; she, as ' tis said,Slightens his love, and he abandons hers:Much talk I hear. Since things go thus, my niece,In tender love and pity of your youth,My counsel is, that you should free your yearsFrom hazard of these woes by flying henceTo fair Cremona, there to vow your soulIn holiness, a holy votaress:Leave me to see the end of these extremes.All human worldly courses are uneven;No life is blessed but the way to Heaven.156 'TIS PITY SHE'S A whor*. [ACT IV.Phi. Uncle, shall I resolve to be a nun?Rich. Ay, gentle niece; and 'in your hourly prayersRemember me, your poor unhappy uncle.Hie to Cremona now, as fortune leads,Your home your cloister, your best friends your beads:Your chaste and single life shall crown your birth:Who dies a virgin lives a saint on earth.Phi. Then farewell, world, and worldly thoughts,adieu!Welcome, chaste vows; myself I yield to you. [Exeunt.SCENE III .-A Chamber in SORANZO's House.Enter SORANZO unbraced, and dragging in ANNABella.Sor. Come, strumpet, famous whor*! were every dropOf blood that runs in thy adulterous veinsA life, this sword -dost see't?—should in one blowConfound them all. Harlot, rare, notable harlot,That with thy brazen face maintain'st thy sin,Was there no man in Parma to be bawdTo your loose cunning whor*dom else but I?Must your hot itch and plurisy of lust,The heyday of your luxury,¹ be fedUp to a surfeit, and could none but IBe picked out to be cloak to your close tricks,Your belly sports? Now I must be the dadTo all that gallimaufry that is stuffedIn thy corrupted bastard-bearing womb!Say, must I?Ann. Beastly man! why, ' tis thy fate.I sued not to thee; for, but that I thoughtYour over-loving lordship would have runMad on denial, had ye lent me time,I would have told ye in what case I was:But you would needs be doing.1 Luxury was commonly used in the sense of lust .SCENE III.] ' TIS PITY SHE'S A whor*. 157Sor.Darest thou tell me this?Ann.whor* of whor*s!O, yes; why not?You were deceived in me; ' twas not for loveI chose you, but for honour: yet know this,Would you be patient yet, and hide your shame,I'd see whether I could love you.Sor.Why, art thou not with child?Ann.Excellent quean!What needs all this,When ' tis superfluous? I confess I am.Sor. Tell me by whom.Ann.Yet somewhat, sir, to stay your longing stomach,I am content t' acquaint you with; the man,The more than man, that got this sprightly boy,—For ' tis a boy, and therefore glory, sir,Soft! 'twas not in my bargain.Your heir shall be a sonSor. Damnable monster!Ann. Nay, an you will not hear, I'll speak no more.Sor. Yes, speak, and speak thy last.Ann A match a match! .This noble creature was in every partSo angel-like, so glorious, that a woman.Who had not been but human, as was I,Would have kneeled to him, and have begged for love.--You! why, you are not worthy once to nameHis name without true worship, or, indeed,Unless you kneeled, to hear another name him.Sor. What was he called?Ann. We are not come to that;Let it suffice that you shall have the gloryTo father what so brave a father got.In brief, had not this chance fall'n out as't doth,I never had been troubled with a thoughtThat you had been a creature:-but for marriage,I scarce dream yet of that. "158 [ACT IV.'TIS PITY SHE'S A whor*.Sor. Tell me his name.Ann. Alas, alas, there's all! will you believe?Sor. What?Ann. You shall never know.Sor.How!Ann.Never ifYou do, let me cursed!Sor. Not know it, strumpet! I'll rip up thy heart,And find it there.Ann.Sor.Do, do.And with my teethDost thou laugh?Tear the prodigious lecher joint by joint.Ann. Ha, ha, ha! the man's merry.Sor.Come, whor*, tell me your lover, or, by truth,I'll hew thy flesh to shreds; who is't?Ann. [Sings] Che morte più dolce che morire per amore?1Sor. Thus will I pull thy hair, and thus I'll dragThy lust-be-lepered body through the dust.Yet tell his name.[Hales her up and down.Ann. [ Sings] Morendo in grazia dee morire senzadolore.2Sor. Dost thou triumph? The treasures of theearthShall not redeem thee; were there kneeling kingsDid beg thy life, or angels did come downTo plead in tears, yet should not all prevailAgainst my rage: dost thou not tremble yet?3 Ann. At what? to die! no, be a gallant hangman; ³I dare thee to the worst: strike, and strike home;I leave revenge behind, and thou shalt feel't.Sor. Yet tell me ere thou diest, and tell me truly,Knows thy old father this?What death sweeter than to die for love?2 To die in grace is to die without sorrow,3 Executioner.SCENE III.] ' TIS PITY SHE'S A whor*. 159Ann. No, by my life.Sor. Wilt thou confess, and I will spare thy life?Ann. My life! I will not buy my life so dear.Sor. I will not slack my vengeance.Vas.[Draws his sword.Enter VASQUES.What d'ye mean, sir?Sor. Forbear, Vasques; such a damnèd whor*Deserves no pity.Vas. Nowthe gods forfend!And would you be her executioner, and kill her in yourrage too? O, ' twere most unmanlike. She is your wife:what faults have been done by her before she marriedyou were not against you: alas, poor lady, what hathshe committed, which any lady in Italy, in the like case,would not? Sir, you must be ruled by your reason, andnot by your fury; that were unhuman and beastly.Sor. She shall not live.Vas. Come, she must. You would have her confessthe author of her present misfortunes, I warrant ye; ' tisan unconscionable demand, and she should lose the estimation that I, for my part, hold of her worth, if she haddone it: why, sir, you ought not, of all men living, toknow it. Good sir, be reconciled: alas, good gentlewoman!Ann. Pish, do not beg for me; I prize my lifeAs nothing; if the man will needs be mad,Why, let him take it.Sor. Vasques, hear'st thou this?Vas. Yes, and commend her for it; in this she showsthe nobleness of a gallant spirit, and beshrew my heart,but it becomes her rarely.-[Aside to SORANZO] Sir, inany case, smother your revenge; leave the scenting- outyour wrongs to me: be ruled, as you respect yourhonour, or you mar all.-[ Aloud] Sir, if ever my servicewere of any credit with you, be not so violent in your160 'TIS PITY SHE'S A whor*. [ACT IV .1distractions:: you are married now; what a triumphmight the report of this give to other neglected suitors!'Tis as manlike to bear extremities as godlike to forgive.Sor. O, Vasques, Vasques, in this piece of flesh,This faithless face of hers, had I laid upThe treasure of my heart!-Hadst thou been virtuous,Fair, wicked woman, not the matchless joysOf life itself had made me wish to liveWith any saint but thee: deceitful creature,How hast thou mocked my hopes, and in the shameOf thy lewd womb even buried me alive!I did too dearly love thee.Vas. [Aside to SORANZO] This is well; follow thistemper with some passion: be brief and moving; ' tis forthe purpose.Sor. Be witness to my words thy soul and thoughts;And tell me, didst not think that in my heartI did too superstitiously adore thee?Ann. I must confess I know you loved me well.Sor. And wouldst thou use me thus! O Annabella,Be thou assured, whoe'er the villain wasThat thus hath tempted thee to this disgrace,Well he might lust, but never loved like me:He doted on the picture that hung outUpon thy cheeks to please his humorous eye;Not on the part I loved, which was thy heart,And, as I thought, thy virtues.Ann.O, my lord!These words wound deeper than your sword could do.Vas. Let me not ever take comfort, but I begin toweep myself, so much I pity him: why, madam, I knew,when his rage was over- past, what it would come to.Sor. Forgive me, Annabella. Though thy youthHath tempted thee above thy strength to folly,Yet will not I forget what I should be,And what I am-—a husband; in that nameIs hid divinity: if I do findSCENE III.] ' TIS PITY SHE'S A whor*.161That thou wilt yet be true, here I remitAll former faults, and take thee to my bosom.Vas. By my troth, and that's a point of noble charity.Ann. Sir, on my knees, —Sor.GetRise up, you shall not kneel.you to your chamber

see you make no show

Of alteration; I'll be with you straight:My reason tells me now that "'tis as commonTo err in frailty as to be a woman. "Go to your chamber. [Exit ANNABELla.Vas. So this was somewhat to the matter: what doyou think ofyour heaven of happiness now, sir?Sor. I carry hell about me; all my bloodIs fired in swift revenge.Vas. That may be; but know you how, or on whom?Alas, to marry a great woman, being made great in thestock to your hand, is a usual sport in these days; but toknow what ferret it was that hunted your cony-berry, -there's the cunning.Sor. I'll make her tell herself, orVas. Or what? you must not do so; let me yet persuade your sufferance a little while: go to her, use hermildly; win her, if it be possible, to a voluntary, to aweeping tune for the rest, if all hit, I will not miss mymark. Pray, sir, go in the next news I tell you shall bewonders.

[Exit.I had aSor. Delay in vengeance gives a heavier blow.Vas. Ah, sirrah, here's work for the nonce!suspicion of a bad matter in my head a pretty whilesago; but after my madam's scurvy looks here at home,her waspish perverseness and loud fault-finding, then Iremembered the proverb, that "where hens crow, andco*cks hold their peace, there are sorry houses. " ' Sfoot,if the lower parts of a she- tailor's cunning can cover sucha swelling in the stomach, I'll never blame a false stitchin a shoe whiles I live again. Up, and up so quick?and so quickly too? ' twere a fine policy to learn by Ford.M162 'TIS PITY SHE'S A whor*. [ACT IV.1whom this must be known; and I have thoughton't:--Enter PUTANA in tears.Here's the way, or none. -What, crying, old mistress!alas, alas, I cannot blame ye; we have a lord, Heavenhelp us, is so mad as the devil himself, the more shamefor him.Put. O, Vasques, that ever I was born to see thisday! Doth he use thee so too sometimes, Vasques?Vas. Me? why he makes a dog of me: but if somewere of my mind, I know what we would do. As sureas I am an honest man, he will go near to kill my ladywith unkindness: say she be with child, is that such amatter for a young woman of her years to be blamed for?Put. Alas, good heart, it is against her will full sore.Vas. I durst be sworn all his madness is for that shewill not confess whose ' tis, which he will know; andwhen he doth know it, I am so well acquainted with hishumour, that he will forget all straight. Well, I couldwish she would in plain terms tell all, for that's the way,indeed.Put. Do you think so?Vas. Foh, I know't; provided that he did not win.her to ' t by force. He was once in a mind that youcould tell, and meant to have wrung it out of you; but Isomewhat pacified him for that: yet, sure, you know agreat deal.Put. Heaven forgive us all! I know a little, Vasques,Vas. Why should you not? who else should? Uponmy conscience, she loves you dearly; and you would notbetray her to any affliction for the world.Put. Not for all the world, by my faith and troth,Vasques.Vas. 'Twere pity of your life if you should; but inthis you should both relieve her present discomforts,pacify my lord, and gain yourself everlasting love andpreferment.SCENE III.] ' TIS PITY SHE'S A whor*. 163Put. Dost think so, Vasques?1Vas. Nay, I know't; sure ' twas some near and entirefriend.Put. 'Twas a dear friend indeed; but~Vas. But what? fear not to name him; my life betweenyou and danger: 'faith, I think ' twas no base fellow.Put. Thou wilt stand between me and harm?Vas. 'Ud's pity, what else? you shall be rewarded.too, trust me.Put. 'Twas even no worse than her own brother.Vas. Her brother Giovanni, I warrant ye!Put. Even he, Vasques; as brave a gentleman as everkissed fair lady. O, they love most perpetually.Vas. A brave gentleman indeed! why, therein I commend her choice.- [Aside] Better and better. -You aresure ' twas he?Put. Sure; and you shall see he will not be long from her too.Vas. He were to blame if he would: but may I believethee?Put. Believe me! why, dost think I am a Turk or aJew? No, Vasques, I have known their dealings toolong to belie them now.Vas. Where are you there? within, sirs!Enter Banditti.Put. How now! what are these?Vas, You shall know presently. -Come, sirs, take methis old damnable hag, gag her instantly, and put out hereyes, quickly, quickly!Put. Vasques! Vasques!-Vas. Gag her, I say; ' sfoot, d'ye suffer her to prate?what d'ye fumble about? let me come to her. I'll helpyour old gums, you toad-bellied bitch! [They gag her.]Sirs, carry her closely into the coal-house, and put outher eyes instantly; if she roars, slit her nose: d'ye hear,be speedy and sure. [Exeunt Banditti with PUTANA. ]164 'TIS PITY SHE'S A whor*. [ACT IV.Why, this is excellent and above expectation-her ownbrother! O, horrible! to what a height of liberty indamnation hath the devil trained our age! her brother,well! there's yet but a beginning; I must to my lord,and tutor him better in his points of vengeance: now Isee how a smooth tale goes beyond a smooth tail. —Butsoft! what thing comes next? Giovanni! as I wouldwish my belief is strengthened, ' tis as firm as winter andsummer.Enter GIOVANNI.Gio. Where's my sister?Vas. Troubled with a new sickness, my lord; she'ssomewhat ill .Gio. Took too much of the flesh, I believe.Vas. Troth, sir, and you, I think, have e'en hit it:but my virtuous ladyGio. Where's she?Vas. In her chamber; please you visit her; she isalone. [GIOVANNI gives him money.] Your liberalityhath doubly made me your servant, and ever shall, ever.[Exit GIOVANNI.Re- enter SORANZO.Sir, I am made a man; I have plied my cue with cunning and success: I beseech you let's be private.Sor. My lady's brother's come; now he'll know all.Vas. Let him know't; I have made some of them fastenough. How have you dealt with my lady?Sor. Gently, as thou hast counselled; O, my soulRuns circular in sorrow for revenge:But, Vasques, thou shalt knowVas. Nay, I will know no more, for now comes yourturn to know: I would not talk so openly with you.-[Aside] Let my young master take time enough, and goat pleasure; he is sold to death, and the devil shall notransom him. —Sir, I beseech you , your privacy.Sor. No conquest can gain glory of my fear. [Exeunt.ACT THE FIFTH.SCENE I. -The Street before SORANZO'S House.ANNABELLA appears at a window above.NN. Pleasures, farewell, and all yethriftless minutesWherein false joys have spun a wearylife!To these my fortunes now I take myleave.Thou, precious Time, that swiftly rid'stOver the world, to finish-up the race [in postOf my last fate, here stay thy restless course,And bear to ages that are yet unbornAwretched, woeful woman's tragedy!My conscience now stands up against my lustWith depositions charactered in guilt,Enter Friar below.And tells me I am lost: now I confessBeauty that clothes the outside ofthe faceIs cursed if it be not clothed with grace.Here like a turtle mewed-up in a cage,Unmated, I converse with air and walls,And descant on my vile unhappiness.O, Giovanni, thou hast had the spoilOf thine own virtues and my modest fame,Would thou hadst been less subject to those starsThat luckless reigned at my nativity!O, would the scourge due to my black offence166 'TIS PITY SHE'S A whor*. [ACTMight pass from thee, that I alone might feelThe torment of an uncontrolled flame!Friar [Aside. ] What's this I hear?Ann. That man, that blessed friar,Who joined in ceremonial knot my handTo him whose wife I now am, told me oftI trod the path to death, and showed me how.But they who sleep in lethargies of lustHug their confusion, making Heaven unjust;And so did I.Friar [Aside. ] Here's music to the soul!Ann. Forgive me, my good genius, and this onceBe helpful to my ends: let some good manPass this way, to whose trust I may commitThis paper, double- lined with tears and blood;Which being granted, here I sadly vowRepentance, and a leaving- of that lifeI long have died in .Lady, Heaven hath heard you,Friar.And hath by providence ordained that IShould be his minister for your behoof.Ann. Ha, what are you?Friar. Your brother's friend, the friar;and you.Glad in my soul that I have lived to hearThis free confession ' twixt your peaceWhat would you, or to whom? fear not to speak.Ann. Is Heaven so bountiful? then I have foundMore favour than I hoped. Here, holy man:[Throws down a letter.Commend me to my brother; give him that,That letter; bid him read it, and repent.Tell him that I, imprisoned in my chamber,Barred of all company, even of my guardian, -Who gives me cause of much suspect, —have timeTo blush at what hath passed; bid him be wise,And not believe the friendship of my lord:I fear much more than I can speak: good father,SCENE 11.] ' TIS PITY SHE'S A whor*. 167The place is dangerous, and spies are busy."I must break off.Friar.You'll do't?Be sure I will,And fly with speed. My blessing ever restWith thee, my daughter; live, to die more blest! [Exit.Ann. Thanks to the heavens, who have prolonged myTo this good use! now I can welcome death. [breath[ Withdrawsfrom the window.SCENE II.-A Room in SORANZO'S House.Enter SORANZO and VASQUES.Vas. Am I to be believed now? first marry a strumpet,that cast herself away upon you but to laugh at yourhorns, to feast on your disgrace, riot in your vexations,cuckold you in your bride-bed, waste your estate uponpanders and bawds!-Sor. No more, I say, no more!Vas. A cuckold is a goodly tame beast, my lord.Sor. I am resolved; urge not another word;Mythoughts are great, and all as resoluteAs thunder in mean time I'll cause our ladyTo deck herself in all her bridal robes;Kiss her, and fold her gently in my arms.Begone, -yet, hear you, are the banditti readyTo wait in ambush.Vas. Good sir, trouble not yourself about other business than your own resolution: remember that time lostcannot be recalled.Sor. With all the cunning words thou canst, invite"The states of Parma to my birthday's feast:Haste to my brother- rival and his father,Entreat them gently, bid them not to fail.Be speedy, and return.1 i.e. Nobles.168 'TIS PITY SHE'S A whor*. [ACT V.Vas. Let not your pity betray you till my comingback; think upon incest and cuckoldry.Sor. Revenge is all the ambition I aspire;To that I'll climb or fall: my blood's on fire. [Exeunt.SCENE III.-A Room in FLORIO's House.Enter GIOVANNI.Gio. Busy opinion is an idle fool,That, as a school- rod keeps a child in awe,Frights the unexperienced temper of the mind:So did it me, who, ere my precious sisterWas married, thought all taste of love would dieIn such a contract; but I find no changeOf pleasure in this formal law of sports.She is still one to me,As sweet and as delicious as the firstI reaped, when yet the privilege of youthEntitled her a virgin. O, the gloryand every kissOf two united hearts like hers and mine!Let poring book- men dream of other worlds;My world and all of happiness is here,And I'd not change it for the best to come:Alife of pleasure is elysium.Enter Friar.Father, you enter on the jubileeOf my retired delights: now I can tell you,The hell you oft have prompted is nought elseBut slavish and fond superstitious fear;And I could prove it tooFriar.Look there, ' tis writ to thee.Gio. From whom?Thy blindness slays thee:[Gives him the letter.Friar. Unrip the seals and see;The blood's yet seething hot, that will anonSCENE III. ] ' TIS PITY SHE'S A whor*. 1691.Be frozen harder than congealed coral.-Why d'ye change colour, son?Gio. 'Fore Heaven, you makeSome petty devil factor ' twixt my loveAnd your religion -maskèd sorceries.Where had you this?Friar. Thy conscience, youth, is seared,'Tis her hand,Else thou wouldst stoop to warning.Gio.I know't; and ' tis all written in her blood.She writes I know not what. Death! I'll not fearAn armèd thunderbolt aimed at my heart.She writes, we are discovered: -Pox on dreamsOf low faint-hearted cowardice! -discovered?The devil we are! which way is't possible?Are we grown traitors to our own delights?Confusion take such dotage! ' tis but forged:This is your peevish chattering, weak old man!Enter VASQUES.Now, sir, what brings you?Vas. My lord, according to his yearly custom, keepingthis day a feast in honour of his birthday, by me invitesyou thither. Your worthy father, with the pope's reverendnuncio, and other magnificoes of Parma, have promisedtheir presence: will't please you to be of the number?Gio. Yes, tell him I dare come.Vas. " Dare come! "Gio. So I said; and tell him more, I will come.Vas. These words are strange to me.Gio. Say, I will come.Vas. You will not miss?Gio. Yet more! I'll come, sir. Are you answered?[ Exit.Not go! for what?Vas. So I'll say. My service to you.Friar. You will not go, I trust.Gio.Friar. O, do not go: this feast, I'll gage my life,170 'TIS PITY SHE'S A whor*. [ACT V.Is but a plot to train you to your ruin.Be ruled, you shall not go.Gio. Not go! stood DeathThreatening his armies of confounding plagues,With hosts of dangers hot as blazing stars,I would be there: not go! yes, and resolveTo strike as deep in slaughter as they all;For I will go.Friar. Go where thou wilt: I seeThe wildness of thy fate draws to an end,To a bad fearful end. I must not stayTo know thy fall: back to Bononia IWith speed will haste, and shun this coming blow.-Parma, farewell; would I had never known thee,Or aught of thine! —Well, young man, since no prayerCan make thee safe, I leave thee to despair.Gio. Despair, or tortures of a thousand hells;All's one to me: I have set up my rest.¹Now, now, work serious thoughts on baneful plots;Be all a man, my soul; let not the curseOf old prescription rend from me the gallOf courage, which enrols a glorious death:If I must totter like a well-grown oak,Some under-shrubs shall in my weighty fall[Exit.Be crushed to splits; with me they all shall perish![Exit.SCENE IV. A Hall in SORANZO'S House.Enter SORANZO, Vasques with masks, and Banditti.Sor. You will not fail, or shrink in the attempt?Vas. I will undertake for their parts. -Be sure, mymasters, to be bloody enough, and as unmerciful as if youwere preying upon a rich booty on the very mountains1 i.e. I have taken my resolution.SCENE IV. ] TIS PITY SHE'S A whor*. 171of Liguria for your pardons trust to my lord; but forreward you shall trust none but your own pockets.Band. We'll make a murder.Sor. Here's gold [ Gives them money]; here's more;want nothing; what you doIs noble, and an act of brave revenge:I'll make ye rich, banditti, and all free.Band. Liberty! liberty!Vas. Hold, take every man a vizard [ Gives themmasks] when ye are withdrawn, keep as much silenceas you can possibly. You know the watchword; tillwhich be spoken, move not; but when you hear that,rush in like a stormy flood; I need not instruct ye inyour own profession.Band. No, no, no.Vas. In, then: your ends are profit and preferment:away! [Exeunt Banditti.Sor. The guests will all come, Vasques?Vas. Yes, sir. And now let me a little edge yourresolution you see nothing is unready to this great work,but a great mind in you; call to your remembranceyour disgraces, your loss of honour, Hippolita's blood,and arm your courage in your own wrongs; so shall youbest right those wrongs in vengeance, which you maytruly call your own.Sor. 'Tis well: the less I speak, the more I burn.And blood shall quench that flame.

- Vas. Nowyou begin to turn Italian. This beside:-

when my young incest-monger comes, he will be sharp seton his old bit give him time enough, let him have yourchamber and bed at liberty; let my hot hare have lawere he be hunted to his death, that, if it be possible, hepost to hell in the very act of his damnation.Sor. It shall be so; and see, as we would wish,He comes himself first.Enter GIOVANNI.Welcome, my much-loved brother:172 'TIS PITY SHE'S A whor*. [ACT V.Now I perceive you honour me; you're welcome.But where's my father?Gio.With the other states, ¹Attending on the nuncio of the pope,To wait upon him hither. How's my sister?Sor. Like a good housewife, scarcely ready yet;You're best walk to her chamber.Gio. Ifyou will.Sor. I must expect my honourable friends;Good brother, get her forth.Gio. You're busy, sir. [Exit.Vas. Even as the great devil himself would have it!let him go and glut himself in his own destruction.—[Flourish.] Hark, the nuncio is at hand: good sir, be ready to receive him.Enter Cardinal, FLORIO, DONADO, RICHARDETTO, andAttendants.Sor. Most reverend lord, this grace hath made meproud,That you vouchsafe my house; I ever restYour humble servant for this noble favour.Car. You are our friend, my lord: his holinessShall understand how zealously you honourSaint Peter's vicar in his substitute:Our special love to you.Sor. Signiors, to youMy welcome, and my ever best of thanksFor this so memorable courtesy.—Pleaseth your grace walk near?Car. Mylord, we comeTo celebrate your feast with civil mirth,As ancient custom teacheth: we will go.Sor. Attend his grace there!-Signiors, keep your way.1 Nobles.[Exeunt."SCENE V.] 'TIS PITY SHE'S A whor*. 173SCENE V. -ANNABELLA's Bed-chamber in the same.ANNABELLA richly dressed and GIOVANNI discoveredlying on a bed.Gio. What, changed so soon! hath your new sprightlylordFound out a trick in night-games more than weCould know in our simplicity? Ha! is't so?Or does the fit come on you, to prove treacherousTo your past vows and oaths?Ann.At my calamity, without all senseWhy should you jestOf the approaching dangers you are in?Gio. What danger's half so great as thy revolt?Thou art a faithless sister, else thou know'st,Malice, or any treachery beside,Would stoop to my bent brows: why, I hold fateClasped in my fist, and could command the courseOf time's eternal motion, hadst thou beenOne thought more steady than an ebbing sea.And what? you'll now be honest, that's resolved?Ann. Brother, dear brother, know what I have been,And know that now there's but a dining- time'Twixt us and our confusion: let's not wasteThese precious hours in vain and useless speech.Alas, these gay attires were not put onBut to some end; this sudden solemn feastWas not ordained to riot in expense;I, that have now been chambered here alone,Barred of my guardian or of any else,Am not for nothing at an instant freedTo fresh access. Be not deceived, my brother;This banquet is an harbinger of deathTo you and me; resolve yourself it is,And be prepared to welcome it.Gio. Well, then;174 'TIS PITY SHE'S A whor*. [ACT V.The schoolmen teach that all this globe of earthShall be consumed to ashes in a minute.Ann. So I have read too.Gio. But ' twere somewhat strangeTo see the waters burn: could I believeThis might be true, I could believe as wellThere might be hell or Heaven.Ann. That's most certain.Gio. A dream, a dream! else in this other worldWe should know one another.Ann.Gio. Have you heard so?Ann.Gio.So we shall.For certain.But d'ye thinkThat I shall see you there?—You look on me.-May we kiss one another, prate or laugh,Or do as we do here?Ann. I know not that.But, brother, for the present, what d'ye meanTo free yourself from danger? some way thinkHow to escape: I'm sure the guests are come.Gio. Look up, look here; what see you in my face?Ann. Distraction and a troubled conscience.Gio. Death, and a swift repining wrath:-yet look;What see you in mine eyes?Ann. Methinks you weep.Gio. I do indeed: these are the funeral tearsShed on your grave; these furrowed-up my cheeksWhen first I loved and knew not how to woo.Fair Annabella, should I here repeatThe story of my life, we might lose time.Be record all the spirits of the air,And all things else that are, that day and night,Early and late, the tribute which my heartHath paid to Annabella's sacred loveHath been these tears, which are her mouruers now!Never till now did Nature do her bestSCENE V.] ' TIS PITY SHE'S A whor*. 175To show a matchless beauty to the world,Which in an instant, ere it scarce was seen,The jealous Destinies required again.Pray, Annabella, pray! Since we must part,Go thou, white in thy soul, to fill a throneOf innocence and sanctity in Heaven.Pray, pray, my sister!Ann. Then I see your drift.—So say I.Ye blessed angels, guard me!Gio.Kiss me. If ever after-times should hearOf our fast-knit affections, though perhapsThe laws of conscience and of civil useMay justly blame us, yet when they but knowOur loves, that love will wipe away that rigourWhich would in other incests be abhorred.Give me your hand: how sweetly life doth runIn these well- coloured veins! how constantlyThese palms do promise health! but I could chideWith Nature for this cunning flattery.Kiss me again:-forgive me.Ann. With my heart.Gio. Farewell!Ann. Will you be gone?Gio.Be dark, bright sun,And make this mid-day night, that thy gilt raysMay not behold a deed will turn their splendourMore sooty than the poets feign their Styx!--One other kiss, my sister.Ann. What means this?Gio. To save thy fame, and kill thee in a kiss.Thus die, and die by me, and by my hand!Revenge is mine; honour doth love command.Ann. O, brother, by your hand!Gio.[Stabs her.When thou art deadI'll give my reasons for't; for to dispute176 'TIS PITY SHE'S A whor*. [ACT V.With thy even in thy death- most lovely beauty,Would make me stagger to perform this act,Which I most glory in.Ann. Forgive him, Heaven-and me my sins!Brother unkind, unkind- Mercy, great Heaven!O, O!Fare-[well,[Dies.Gio. She's dead, alas, good soul! The hapless fruitThat in her womb received its life from meHath had from me a cradle and a grave.I must not dally. This sad marriage-bed,In all her best, bore her alive and dead.Soranzo, thou hast missed thy aim in this:I have prevented now thy reaching plots,And killed a love, for whose each drop of bloodI would have pawned my heart. -Fair Annabella,How over-glorious art thou in thy wounds,Triumphing over infamy and hate! —Shrink not, courageous hand, stand up, my heart,And boldly act my last and greater part![The scene closes.SCENE VI. -A Banqueting-room¹ in the same.Abanquet set out. Enter the Cardinal, FLORIO, DONADO,SORANZO, RICHARDETTO, VASQUES, and Attendants.Vas. [Aside to SORANZO] Remember, sir, what youhave to do; be wise and resolute.Sor. [Aside to VASQUES] Enough: my heart is fixed.—Pleaseth your graceTo taste these coarse confections: though the useOf such set entertainments more consistsIn custom than in cause, yet, reverend sir,1 They had dined in another room, and, according to the usualpractice, repaired to the apartment in which the confectionery wasset out.- Gifford.SCENE VI. ] 'TIS PITY SHE'S A whor*. 177I am still made your servant by your presence.Car. And we your friend.Sor. But where's my brother Giovanni?Enter GIOVANNI with a heart upon his dagger.Gio. Here, here, Soranzo! trimmed in reeking blood,That triumphs over death, proud in the spoilOf love and vengeance! Fate, or all the powersThat guide the motions of immortal souls,Could not prevent me.Car. What means this?Flo. Son Giovanni!Sor. [Aside] Shall I be forestalled?Gio. Be not amazed: if your misgiving heartsShrink at an idle sight, what bloodless fearOf coward passion would have seized your senses,Had you beheld the rape of life and beautyWhich I have acted!-My sister, O, my sister!Flo. Ha! what of her?Gio. The glory of my deedDarkened the mid-day sun, made noon as night.You came to feast, my lords, with dainty fare:I came to feast too; but I digged for foodIn a much richer mine than gold or stoneOf any value balanced; ' tis a heart,A heart, my lords, in which is mine entombed:Look well upon't; d'ye know't?Vas. [Aside] What strange riddle's this?Gio. 'Tis Annabella's heart, ' tis: -why d'ye startle?——I vow ' tis hers: this dagger's point ploughed upHer fruitful womb, and left to me the fameOf a most glorious executioner.Flo. Why, madman, art thyself?Gio. Yes, father; and, that times to come may knowHow, as my fate, I honoured my revenge,List, father; to your ears I will yield upHow much I have deserved to be your son.N Ford.178 'TIS PITY SHE'S A whor*. [ACT V.Flo. What is't thou say'st?Gio. Nine moons have had their changesHow -Alas, my lords,Since I first throughly viewed and truly lovedYour daughter and my sister,Flo.He is a frantic madman!Gio. Father, no.For nine months' space in secret I enjoyedSweet Annabella's sheets; nine months I livedA happy monarch of her heart and her.—Soranzo, thou know'st this: thy paler cheekBears the confounding print of thy disgrace;"For her too-fruitful womb too soon bewrayedThe happy passage of our stol'n delights,And made her mother to a child unborn.Car. Incestuous villain!Flo. O, his rage belies him.Gio. It does not, ' tis the oracle of truth;I vow it is so.Sor.Bring the strumpet forth!I shall burst with fury, -Vas. I shall, sir. [Exit.Gio. Do, sir. Have you all no faithHere I swear To credit yet my triumphs?By all that you call sacred, by the loveI bore my Annabella whilst she lived,These hands have from her bosom ripped this heart.Is't true, or no, sir?Vas.Re-enter VASQUes.Flo. Cursed man!-Have I lived toCar.'Tis most strangely true.[Dies.Hold up, Florio.-Monster of children! see what thou hast done,Broke thy old father's heart. -Is none of youDares venture on him?Gio. Let ' em!-O, my father,SCENE VI. ] 'TIS PITY SHE'S A whor*.179How well his death becomes him in his griefs!Why, this was done with courage: now survivesNone of our house but I, gilt in the bloodOf a fair sister and a hapless father.Sor.Inhuman scorn of men, hast thou a thoughtT'outlive thy murders?Gio.[Draws.Yes, I tell thee, yes;For in my fists I bear the twists of life.Soranzo, see this heart, which was thy wife's;Thus I exchange it royally for thine.And thus, and thus![ They fight.[ SORANZO falls.Now brave revenge is mine.Vas. I cannot hold any longer. -You, sir, are yougrown insolent in your butcheries? have at you!Gio. Come, I am armed to meet thee.Vas [ Theyfight.. No! will it not be yet? if this will not, anothershall. Not yet? I shall fit you anon. -Vengeance!The Banditti rush in.Gio. Welcome! come more of you; whate'er you be,I dare your worst. [ They surround and wound him.O, I can stand no longer! feeble arms,Have you so soon lost strength?[ Falls.Vas. Nowyou are welcome, sir! -[Aside to Banditti. ]Away, my masters, all is done; shift for yourselves, yourreward is your own; shift for yourselves.Band. Away, away![Exeunt.Vas. How d'ye, my lord?--See you this? [Pointing toGIOVANNI. ] How is't?Sor. Dead; but in death well pleased that I have lived.To see my wrongs revenged on that black devil.O, Vasques, to thy bosom let me giveMy last of breath; let not that lecher live .O!Vas [Dies.. The reward of peace and rest be with him, myever dearest lord and master!1 The watchword previously agreed on.180 'TIS PITY SHE'S A whor*. [ACT V.Gio. Whose hand gave me this wound?Vas. Mine, sir; I was your first man: have youGio. I thank thee; thou hast done for me [enough?But what I would have else done on myself.Art sure thy lord is dead?Vas. O, impudent slave!As cure as I am sure to see thee die.Car. Think on thy life and end, and call for mercy.Gio. Mercy! why, I have found it in this justice.Car. Strive yet to cry to Heaven.Gio. O, I bleed fast!Death, thou'rt a guest long looked for; I embraceThee and thy wounds: O, my last minute comes!Where'er I go, let me enjoy this grace,Freely to view my Annabella's face.Don. Strange miracle of justice![Dies.Car. Raise up the city; we shall be murdered all!Vas. You need not fear, you shall not: this strangetask being ended, I have paid the duty to the son whichI have vowed to the father.Car. Speak, wretched villain, what incarnate fiendHath led thee on to this?Vas. Honesty, and pity of my master's wrongs: forknow, my lord, I am by birth a Spaniard, brought forthmy country in my youth by Lord Soranzo's father, whomwhilst he lived I served faithfully: since whose death Ihave been to this man as I was to him. What I havedone was duty, and I repent nothing, but that the loss ofmy life had not ransomed his.Car. Say, fellow, know'st thou any yet unnamedOf counsel in this incest?1Vas. Yes, an old woman, sometimes ¹ guardian to thismurdered lady.Car. And what's become of her?Vas. Within this room she is! whose eyes, after herconfession, I caused to be put out, but kept alive, to1 i.e. Formerly.SCENE VI. ] ' TIS PITY SHE'S Awhor*.181confirm what from Giovanni's own mouth youhave heard.Now, my lord, what I have done you may judge of; andlet your own wisdom be a judge in your own reason.Car. Peace! -First this woman, chief in these effects ,My sentence is , that forthwith she be ta'enOut of the city, for example's sake,There to be burnt to ashes.Don.'Tis most just.Car, Be it your charge, Donado , see it done.Don. I shall,Vas. What for me? if death, ' tis welcome: I havebeen honest to the son, as I was to the father.Car. Fellow, for thee, since what thou didst was doneNot for thyself, being no Italian,We banish thee for ever; to departWithin three days: in this we do dispense.With grounds of reason, not of thine offence.Vas. 'Tis well this conquest is mine, and I rejoicethat aSpaniard outwent an Italian in revenge.[ Exit.[buried;Car. Take up these slaughtered bodies, see themAnd all the gold and jewels, or whatsoever,Confiscate by the canons of the church,We seize upon to the pope's proper use.Rich.Discovers himself. ] Your grace's pardon: thuslong I lived disguised,To see the effect of pride and lust at onceBrought both to shameful ends.Car. What!Richardetto, whom we thought for dead?Don. Sir, was it youRich.Car.Your friend.We shall have time To talk at large of all: but never yetIncest and murder have so strangely met.Of one so young, so rich in nature's store,Who could not say, ' TIS PITY SHE'S A whor*?[Exeunt.

THE BROKEN HEART.1GEO account remains of the first appear.ance of this play, or of its success.It was acted by the King's servantsat the Blackfriars Theatre, and waspublished in 1633. It is said in thePrologue that the story-the scene ofwhich is curiously placed in Sparta--had some foundation in fact. It mayhave been taken from an Italian novel.Tothe mostworthydeserver ofthe noblesttitles in honour,WILLIAM, LORD CRAVEN, BARON OF HAMPSTEAD- MARSHALL.¹My Lord,HE glory of a great name, acquired by agreater glory of action, hath in all ageslived the truest chronicle to his ownmemory. In the practice of whichargument your growth to perfection,even in youth, hath appeared so sincere, so unflattering a penman, that posterity cannotwith more delight read the merit of noble endeavoursthan noble endeavours merit thanks from posterity to beread with delight. Many nations, many eyes have beenwitnesses of your deserts, and loved them: be pleased,1 "William, first Baron and Earl Craven " (according to Collins'sPeerage), "the eldest son of Sir W. Craven, Lord Mayor, was much affected with military exercises from his youth, and signalisedhimselfin Germany and in the Netherlands under Henry, Prince of Orange. In which valiant adventures he gained such honour, that on his return he was first knighted at Newmarket, March 4, 1626,and in the year after deservedly raised to the dignity of Lord Cravenof Hampstead-Marshall. In 1631 he was one of the commanders of those forces sent to the assistance ofthe great Gustavus Adolphus,and was wounded in the assault upon the strong fortress ofKreutz- nach. He died, after a very active and chequered life, April 9,1697, at the advanced age of 88. He is now chiefly remembered for his romantic attachment to the Queen of Bohemia, daughter ofJames I., to whom it is generally supposed he was privately mar- ried." "One maybe pardoned for remembering," Ward adds, " thatthe chivalrous knight- errant and (as is thought) secret husband of Elizabeth of Bohemia survived her for nearly a quarter of a century."186 THE BROKEN HEART.then, with the freedom of your own name, to admit oneamongst all, particularly into the list of such as honoura fair example of nobility. There is a kind of humbleambition, not uncommendable, when the silence of studybreaks forth into discourse, coveting rather encouragementthan applause; yet herein censure commonly is too severean auditor, without the moderation of an able patronage.I have ever been slow in courtship of greatness, not ignorant of such defects as are frequent to opinion: but thejustice of your inclination to industry emboldens my weakness of confidence to relish an experience of your mercy,as many brave dangers have tasted of your courage. YourLordship strove to be known to the world , when the worldknew you least, by voluntary but excellent attempts: likeallowance I plead of being known to your Lordship (in thislow presumption), by tendering, to a favourable entertainment, a devotion offered from a heart that can be as trulysensible of any least respect as ever profess the owner inmy best, my readiest services , a lover of your natural loveto virtue.JOHN FORD.1PROLOGUE.OUR Scene is Sparta. He whose best of artHath drawn this piece calls it THE BROKEN HEART.The title lends no expectation hereOf apish laughter, or of some lame jeerAt place or persons; no pretended clauseOfjests fit for a brothel courts applauseFrom vulgar admiration: such low songs,Tuned to unchaste ears, suit not modest tongues.The virgin- sisters then deserved fresh baysWhen innocence and sweetness crowned their lays;Then vices gasped for breath, whose whole commérceWas whipped to exile by unblushing verse.This law we keep in our presentment now,Not to take freedom more than we allow;What may be here thought Fiction, when time's youthWanted some riper years, was known a Truth:In which, if words have clothed the subject right,You may partake a pity with delight.DRAMATIS PERSONE.AMYCLAS, King of Laconia.ITHOCLES, a Favourite.ORGILUS, Son of Crotolon .BASSANES, a jealous Nobleman.ARMOSTES, a Counsellor of StateCROTOLON, another Counsellor.PROPHILUS, Friend of Ithocles.NEARCHUS, Prince of Argos,TECNICUS, a Philosopher.HEMOPHIL, )GRONEAS, }Courtiers,AMELUS, Friend of Nearchus.PHULAS, Servant to Bassanes.Lords, Courtiers, Officers, Attendants , &c.CALANTHA, Daughter of Amyclas .PENTHEA, Sister of Ithocles and Wife of Bassanes.EUPHRANEA, Daughter of Crotolon, a Maid of honour.CHRISTALLA,PHILEMA, }Maids ofhonour.GRAUSIS , Overseer of Penthea.SCENE-SPARTA.1THE BROKEN HEART.ACT THE FIRST.SCENE I.-A Room in CROTOLON'S House.Enter CROTOLON and ORGILUS.ROT. Dally not further; I will knowthe reasonThat speeds thee to this journey.Org. Reason! good sir,Give me one, a good one;I can yield many.Crot.Such I expect, and ere we part mustAthens! pray, why to Athens? you intend notTo kick against the world, turn cynic, stoic,Or read the logic- lecture, or becomeAn Areopagite, and judge in casesTouching the commonwealth; for, as I take it,The budding of your chin cannot prognosticateSo grave an honour.Org.All this I acknowledge.[have:Crot. You do! then, son, if books and love of knowledgeInflame you to this travel, here in SpartaYou may as freely study.Org. 'Tis not that, sir.Crot. Not that, sir! As a father, I command theeT'acquaint me with the truth.190 THE BROKEN HEART. [ACT I.Org.Thus I obey ye.After so many quarrels as dissension,Fury, and rage had broached in blood, and sometimesWith death to such confederates as sidedWith now- dead Thrasus and yourself, my lord;Our present king, Amyclas, reconciledYour eager swords and sealed a gentle peace:Friends you professed yourselves; which to confirm,A resolution for a lasting leagueBetwixt your families was entertained,By joining in a Hymenean bondMe and the fair Penthea, only daughterTo Thrasus.Crot.Org.What of this?Much, much, dear sir.Afreedom of convérse, an interchangeOf holy and chaste love, so fixed our soulsIn a firm growth of union, that no timeCan eat into the pledge: we had enjoyedThe sweets our vows expected, had not crueltyPrevented all those triumphs we prepared for,By Thrasus his untimely death.Crot. Most certain.Org. From this time sprouted-up that poisonous stalkOf aconite, whose ripened fruit hath ravishedAll health, all comfort of a happy life;For Ithocles, her brother, proud of youth,And prouder in his power, nourished closelyThe memory of former discontents,To glory in revenge. By cunning partly,Partly by threats, he woos at once, and forcesHis virtuous sister to admit a marriageWith Bassanes, a nobleman, in honourAnd riches, I confess, beyond my fortunes.Crot. All this is no sound reason to impórtuneMy leave for thy departure.Org.Now it follows.SCENE 1.] THE BROKEN HEART. 191Beauteous Penthea, wedded to this tortureBy an insulting brother, being secretlyCompelled to yield her virgin freedom upTo him, who never can usurp her heart,Before contracted mine, is now so yokedTo a most barbarous thraldrom, misery,Affliction, that he savours not humanity,Whose sorrow melts not into more than pityIn hearing but her name.Crot.Org.As how, pray?The man that calls her wife, considers trulyWhat heaven of perfections he is lord ofBy thinking fair Penthea his: this thoughtBegets a kind of monster-love, which loveIs nurse unto a fear so strong and servileAs brands all dotage with a jealousy:All eyes who gaze upon that shrine ofbeautyHe doth resolve¹ do homage to the miracle;Some one, he is assured, may now or then,If opportunity but sort, prevail:So much, out of a self-unworthiness,Bassanes,His fears transport him; not that he finds causeIn her obedience, but his own distrust.Crot. You spin- out your discourse.Org. My griefs are violent:For, knowing how the maid was heretoforeCourted by me, his jealousies grow wildThat I should steal again into her favours,And undermine her virtues; which the godsKnow I nor dare nor dream of.I undertake a voluntary exile;Hence, from hence,First, by my absence to take off the caresOfjealous Bassanes; but chiefly, sir,To free Penthea from a hell on earth;Lastly, to lose the memory of something1 i.e. Convince himself.192 THE BROKEN HEART. [ACT I.Her presence makes to live in me afresh.Crot. Enough, my Orgilus, enough. To Athens,I give a full consent. -Alas, good lady!-We shall hear from thee often?Org.Crot.Often.See,Thy sister comes to give a farewell.Euph.Enter EUPHRANEA.Brother!Org. Euphranea, thus upon thy cheeks I printAbrother's kiss; more careful of thine honour,Thy health, and thy well- doing, than my life.Before we part, in presence of our father,I must prefer a suit t' ye.Euph.My brother, a command.Org.You may style it,That you will promiseNever to pass to any man, howeverWorthy, your faith, till, with our father's leave,I give a free consent.Crot. An easy motion!Your pardon;I'll promise for her, Orgilus.Org.Euphranea's oath must yield me satisfaction.Euph. By Vesta's sacred fires I swear.Crot.By great Apollo's beams, join in the vow,Not without thy allowance to bestow herOn any living.Org. Dear Euphranea,And I,Mistake me not: far, far ' tis from my thought,As far from any wish of mine, to hinderPreferment to an honourable bedOr fitting fortune; thou art young and handsome;And ' twere injustice, -more, a tyranny, -Not to advance thy merit: trust me, sister,SCENE II. ] THE BROKEN HEART. 193It shall be my first care to see thee matchedAs may become thy choice and our contents.I have your oath.Euph.You have.To leave us, as you say?Crot.But mean you, brother,Ay, ay, Euphranea:I will prove He has just grounds direct him.A father and a brother to thee.Euph.HeavenDoes look into the secrets of all hearts:Gods, you have mercy with ye, elseCrot.Thy brother will return in safety to us.Doubt nothing;Org. Souls sunk in sorrows never are without ' em;They change fresh airs, but bear their griefs about ' em.[Exeunt.SCENE II.A Room in the Palace.Flourish. Enter AMYCLAS, ARMOSTES, PROPHILUS,Courtiers, and Attendants.Amy. The Spartan gods are gracious; our humilityShall bend before their altars, and perfumeTheir temples with abundant sacrifice.See, lords, Amyclas, your old king, is enteringInto his youth again! I shall shake offThis silver badge of age, and change this snowFor hairs as gay as are Apollo's locks;Our heart leaps in new vigour.Arm. May old timeRun back to double your long life, great sir!Amy. It will, it must, Armostes: thy bold nephew,Death-braving Ithocles, brings to our gatesTriumphs and peace upon his conquering sword.Laconia is a monarchy at length;Ford,194 THE BROKEN HEART. [ACT I.Hath in this latter war trod under footMessene's pride; Messene bows her neckTo Lacedæmon's royalty. O, ' twasAglorious victory, and doth deserveMore than a chronicle--a temple, lords,A temple to the name of Ithocles.--Where didst thou leave him, Prophilus?Pro.Most gracious sovereign; twenty of the noblestOf the Messenians there attend your pleasure,For such conditions as you shall proposeIn settling peace, and liberty of life.At Pephon,Amy. When comes your friend the general?Pro.To follow with all speed convenient.He promisedEnter CALANTHA, EUPHRANEA; CHRISTALLA andPHILEMA with a garland; and CROTOLON.Amy. Our daughter! --Dear Calantha, the happy news,The conquest of Messene, hath alreadyEnriched thy knowledge.Cal. With the circ*mstanceAnd manner of the fight, related faithfullyBy Prophilus himself. —But, pray, sir, tell meHow doth the youthful general demeanHis actions in these fortunes?Pro. Excellent princess,Your own fair eyes may soon report a truthUnto your judgment, with what moderation,Calmness of nature, measure, bounds, and limitsOf thankfulness and joy, he doth digestSuch amplitude of his success as wouldIn others, moulded of a spirit less clear,Advance ' em to comparison with heaven:But Ithocles--Cal.Pro.Your friendHe is so, madam,SCENE II. ]THE BROKEN HEART. 195In which the period of my fate consists:He, in this firmament of honour, standsLike a star fixed, not moved with any thunderOfpopular applause or sudden lightningOf self- opinion; he hath served his country,And thinks ' twas but his duty.Crot.A miracle of man.Amy.You describeSuch, Crotolon,On forfeit of a king's word, thou wilt find him.——Hark, warning of his coming! all attend him.[Flourish.Enter ITHOCLES, ushered in by the Lords, andfollowed byHEMOPHIL and GRONEAS.Return into these arms, thy home, thy sanctuary,Delight of Sparta, treasure of my bosom,Mine own, own Ithocles!Ith. Your humblest subject.Arm. Proud of the blood I claim an interest in,As brother to thy mother, I embrace thee,Right noble nephew.Ith. Sir, your love's too partial.Crot. Our country speaks by me, who by thy valour,Wisdom, and service, shares in this great action;Returning thee, in part of thy due merits,A general welcome.Ith.You exceed in bounty.Cal. Christalla, Philema, the chaplet. [ Takes the chapletfrom them. ]-Ithocles,Upon the wings of fame the singularAnd chosen fortune of an high attemptIs borne so past the view of common sight,That I myself with mine own hands have wrought,To crown thy temples, this provincial garland¹:¹i.e. The laurel wreath conferred on those who added a provinceto the empire,196 THE BROKEN HEART. [ACT I.Accept, wear, and enjoy it as our giftDeserved, not purchased.Ith. You're a royal maid.Let me blush,Amy. She is in all our daughter.Ith.Acknowledging how poorly I have served,What nothings I have done, compared with the honoursHeaped on the issue of a willing mind;In that lay mine ability, that only:For who is he so sluggish from his birth,So little worthy of a name or country,That owes not out of gratitude for lifeA debt of service, in what kind soeverSafety or counsel of the commonwealthRequires, for payment?Cal.Ith.He speaks truth.Whom heavenIs pleased to style victorious, there to suchApplause runs madding, like the drunken priestsIn Bacchus' sacrifices, without reasonVoicing the leader- on a demi-god;Whenas, indeed, each common soldier's bloodDrops down as current coin in that hard purchaseAs his whose much more delicate conditionHath sucked the milk of ease: judgment commands,But resolution executes. I use not,Before this royal presence, these fit slights¹As in contempt of such as can direct;My speech hath other end; not to attributeAll praise to one man's fortune, which is strengthenedBy many hands: for instance, here is Prophilus,A gentleman-I cannot flatter truthOf much desert; and, though in other rank,Both Hemophil and Groneas were not missingTo wish their country's peace; for, in a word,All there did strive their best, and ' twas our duty.1 ie. Slight words fitting slight services ,SCENE II . ] THE BROKEN HEART.197Amy. Courtiers turn soldiers!-Wevouchsafe our hand.[ HEMOPHIL and GRONEAS kiss his hand.Observe our great example.Hem.With all diligence.Gron.Obsequiously and hourly.Amy.SomereposeAfter these toils is needful. We must think onConditions for the conquered; they expect ' em.On!-Come, my Ithocles.Euph.I need not asupporter.Pro.Sir, with your favour,Fate instructs me.[ Exit AMYCLAS attended,ITHOCLES,CALANTHA,c. As CHRISTALLA and PHILEMA are following CALANTHA they are detained by HEMOPHIL and GRONEAS.Chris. With me?Phil.Indeed I dare not stay.Hem.Soldiers are blunt Sweet lady., —your lip.Chris [Kisses her.. Fie, this is rudeness:Gro.Chris.You went not hence such creatures.Is of amounting nature.Phil.Pray, in earnest, how many men apieceHave you two been the death of?Gro.We were composed ofmercy.Hem.You heard the general's approbationBefore the king.That showed your charity: where are your spoils ,Such as the soldier fights for?Phil. They are coming.Chris. By the next carrier, are they not?Spirit of valourIt appears so.—' Faith, not many;For our daring,You " wished your country's peace; '198 THE BROKEN HEART. [ACT I.Gro.Sweet Philema,When I was in the thickest of mine enemies,Slashing off one man's head, another's nose,Another's arms and legs, —Phil. And all together.Gro. Then would I with a sigh remember thee,And cry " Dear Philema, ' tis for thy sakeI do these deeds of wonder! "-dost not love meWith all thy heart now?Phil.Now as heretofore.I have not put my love to use; the principalWill hardly yield an interest.Gro.I'll marry thee!Phil.By Mars,By Vulcan, you're forsworn,One word.Except my mind do alter strangely.Gro.Chris. You lie beyond all modesty: -forbear me.Hem. I'll make thee mistress of a city; ' tisMine own by conquest.Chris. By petition; sue for'tIn formâ pauperis.-City! kennel. -Gallants!Off with your feathers, put on aprons, gallants;Learn to reel, thrum, ¹ or trim a lady's dog,And be good quiet souls of peace, hobgoblins!Hem. Christalla!Chris. Practise to drill hogs, in hopeTo share in the acorns. -Soldiers! corncutters,But not so valiant; they ofttimes draw blood,Which you durst never do. When you have practisedMore wit or more civility, we'll rank yeI' the list of men: till then, brave things- at- arms,Dare not to speak to us, -most potent Groneas!—Phil. And Hemophil the hardy! -at your services .[Exeunt CHRISTALLA and PHilema.Gro. They scorn us, as they did before we went.1 Weave. Thrum is , properly, the tuft at the end of the warp .SCENE III . ] THE BROKEN HEART.199Hem. Hang ' em! let us scorn them, and be revenged.Gro. Shall we?Hem. We will: and when we slight them thus,Instead of following them, they'll follow us;It is awoman's nature.Gro. 'Tis a scurvy one.[ Exeunt.SCENE III . —The Gardens ofthe Palace. A Grove.Enter TECNICUS, and ORGILUS disguised like one ofhisScholars.Tec. Tempt not the stars; young man, thou canst notWith the severity of fate: this changeOf habit and disguise in outward view [playHides not the secrets of thy soul within theeFrom their quick-piercing eyes, which dive at all timesDown to thy thoughts: in thy aspéct I noteA consequence of danger.Org.Give me leave,Grave Tecnicus, without foredooming destiny,Under thy roof to ease my silent griefs,By applying to my hidden wounds the balm.Of thy oraculous lectures. If my fortuneRun such a crookèd by- way as to wrestMy steps to ruin, yet thy learned preceptsShall call me back and set my footings straight.I will not court the world.Tec. Ah, Orgilus,Neglects in young men of delights and lifeRun often to extremities; they care notFor harms to others who contemn their own.Org. But I, most learnèd artist, am not so muchAt odds with nature that I grudge the thriftOf any true deserver; nor doth maliceOf present hopes so check them with despairAs that I yield to thought of more affliction200 THE BROKEN HEART. [ACT I.Than what is incident to frailty: whereforeImpute not this retirèd course of livingSome little time to any other causeThan what I justly render, the informationOf an unsettled mind; as the effectMust clearly witness.Tec. Spirit of truth inspire thee!On these conditions I conceal thy change,And willingly admit thee for an auditor.-I'll to my study.Org. I to contemplationsIn these delightful walks. [Exit TECNICUS.Thus metamorphosed,I may without suspicion hearken afterPenthea's usage and Euphranea's faith.Love, thou art full of mystery! the deitiesThemselves are not secure¹ in searching outThe secrets of those flames, which, hidden, wasteA breast made tributary to the lawsOf beauty: physic yet hath never found.A remedy to cure a lover's wound.—Ha! who are those that cross yon private walkInto the shadowing grove in amorous foldings?PROPHILUS passes by, supporting EUPHRANEA andwhispering.My sister! O, my sister! ' tis EuphraneaWith Prophilus: supported too! I wouldIt were an apparition! ProphilusIs Ithocles his friend: it strangely puzzles me.Re-enter PROPHILUS and EUPHRANEA.Again! help me, my book; this scholar's habitMust stand my privilege: my mind is busy,Mine eyes and ears are open.[ Walks aside, pretending to read.1 Certain.SCENE III. ] THE BROKEN HEART.201Pro. Do not wasteThe span of this stol'n time, lent by the godsFor precious use, in niceness.¹ Bright Euphranea,Should I repeat old vows, or study new,For purchase of belief to my desires, —Org. [ Aside] Desires!Pro. My service, my integrity, —Org. [ Aside] That's better.Pro. I should but repeat a lesson Oft conned without aprompter but thine eyes:My love is honourable.Org. [Aside] So was mineTo my Penthea, chastely honourable.Pro. Nor wants there more addition to my wishOf happiness than having thee a wife;Already sure of Ithocles, a friendFirm and unalterable.Org. [Aside] But a brotherWhat can you look for,More cruel than the grave.Euph.In answer to your noble protestations ,From an unskilful maid, but language suitedTo a divided mind?Org. [Aside] Hold out,Euphranea!Euph. Know, Prophilus, I never undervalued,From the first time you mentioned worthy love,Your merit, means, or person: it had beenAfault of judgment in me, and a dulnessIn my affections, not to weigh and thankMy better stars that offered me the graceOf so much blissfulness. For, to speak truth,The law of my desires kept equal paceWith yours; nor have I left that resolution:But only, in a word, whatever choiceLives nearest in my heart must first procure Consent both from my father and my brother,1 Preciseness.202 THE BROKEN HEART. [ACT I.Ere he can own me his.Org. [Aside]Pro. Leave me that task.Euph.To Athens, had my oath.Org. [Aside]Pro. I doubt not, withBut to prevail at pleasure.Org. [Aside]She is forsworn else.My brother, ere he partedYes, yes, he had, sure.the means the court supplies,Very likely!Pro. Meantime, best, dearest, I may build my hopesOn the foundation of thy constant sufferanceIn any opposition.Euph.Death shall soonerDivorce life and the joys I have in livingThan my chaste vows from truth.Pro.I seal the like.On thy fair handOrg. [Aside] There is no faith in woman.Passion, O, be contained! my very heart- stringsAre on the tenters.Euph.Cupid protect us! ' twas a stirring,Of some one near.Pro.Sir, we are overheard.Your fears are needless, lady;None have access into these private pleasuresExcept some near in court, or bosom- studentFrom Tecnicus his oratory, grantedBy special favour lately from the kingUnto the grave philosopher.Euph.MethinksI hear one talking to himself, —I see him.Pro. 'Tis a poor scholar, as I told you, lady.Org. [ Aside] I am discovered.—[ Half aloud to himself, as if studying] Say it; is it possible,With a smooth tongue, a leering countenance,Flattery, or force of reason-I come t'ye, sirTo turn or to appease the raging sea?SCENE III . ] THE BROKEN HEART. 203Answer to that. -Your art! what art? to catchAnd hold fast in a net the sun's small atoms?No, no; they'll out, they'll out ye may as easilyOutrun a cloud driven by a northern blastAs fiddle-faddle so! Peace, or speak sense.Euph. Call you this thing a scholar? ' las, he's lunatic.Pro. Observe him, sweet; ' tis but his recreation.Org. But will you hear a little? You're so tetchy,You keep no rule in argument: philosophyWorks not upon impossibilities ,But natural conclusions. —Mew! --absurd!The metaphysics are but speculationsOfthe celestial bodies, or such accidentsAs not mixed perfectly, in the air engendered,Appear to us unnatural; that's all.Prove it; yet, with a reverence to your gravity,I'll balk illiterate sauciness, submittingMy sole opinion to the touch of writers.Pro. Now let us fall in with him.Org.[ They come forward.Ha, ha, ha!These apish boys, when they but taste the grammatesAnd principles of theory, imagineThey can oppose their teachers.Leads many into errors.Pro.ConfidenceBy your leave, sir.Euph. Are you a scholar, friend?Org. I am, gay creature,With pardon of your deities, a mushroom.On whom the dew of heaven drops now and then;The sun shines on me too, I thank his beams!Sometime I feel their warmth; and eat and sleep .Pro. Does Tecnicus read to thee?Org.He is my master surely; yonder doorOpens upon his study.Yes, forsooth,Pro. Happy creatures!204 THE BROKEN HEART. [ACT I.Such people toil not, sweet, in heats of state,Nor sink in thaws of greatness; their affectionsKeep order with the limits of their modesty;Their love is love of virtue. — What's thy name?Org. Aplotes, sumptuous master, a poor wretch.Euph. Dost thou want anything?Org.Books, Venus, books.Pro. Lady, a new conceit comes in my thought,And most available for both our comforts.Euph. My lord,-Pro. Whiles I endeavour to deserveYour father's blessing to our loves, this scholarMay daily at some certain hours attend,What notice I can write of my success,Here in this grove, and give it to your hands;The like from you to me: so can we never,Barred of our mutual speech, want sure intelligence,And thus our hearts may talk when our tongues cannot.Euph. Occasion is most favourable; use it.Pro. Aplotes, wilt thou wait us twice a-day,At nine i' the morning and at four at night,Here in this bower, to convey such lettersAs each shall send to other? Do it willingly,Safely, and secretly, and I will furnishThy study, or what else thou canst desire.Org. Jove, make me thankful, thankful, I beseechthee,Propitious Jove! I will prove sure and trusty:You will not fail me books?Pro. Nor aught besidesThy heart can wish. This lady's name's Euphranea,Mine Prophilus.Org.I have a pretty memory;It must prove my best friend. I will not missOne minute of the hours appointed.Pro.WriteThe books thou wouldst have bought thee in a note,J.SCENE III . ] THE BROKEN HEART. 205Or take thyself some money.Org.No, no, money;Money to scholars is a spirit invisible,We dare not finger it: or books, or nothing.Pro. Books of what sort thou wilt: do not forgetOur names.Org. I warrant ye, I warrant ye.Pro. Smile, Hymen, on the growth of our desires;We'll feed thy torches with eternal fires![ Exeunt PROPHILUS and EUPHRANEA.Org. Put out thy torches, Hymen, or their lightShall meet a darkness of eternal night!Inspire me, Mercury, with swift deceits.Ingenious Fate has leapt into mine arms,Beyond the compass of my brain. MortalityCreeps on the dung of earth, and cannot reachThe riddles which are purposed by the gods.Great arts best write themselves in their own stories;They die too basely who outlive their glories. [ Exit.ACT THE SECOND.SCENE I.-A Room in BASSANES' House.travails,Enter BASSANES and PHULAS.ASS. I'll have that window next the streetdammed up;It gives too full a prospect to temptation,And courts a gazer's glances: there's alustCommitted by the eye, that sweats andPlots, wakes, contrives, till the deformèd bear- whelp,Adultery, be licked into the act,The very act that light shall be dammed up;D'ye hear, sir?Phu. I do hear, my lord; a masonShall be provided suddenly.Bass. Some rogue,Some rogue of your confederacy, -factorFor slaves and strumpets!-to convey close packetsFrom this spruce springal ' and the t'other youngster;That gaudy earwig, or my lord your patron,Whose pensioner you are. -I'll tear thy throat out,Son of a cat, ill -looking hound's- head, rip-upThy ulcerous maw, if I but scent a paper,A scroll, but half as big as what can coverAwart upon thy nose, a spot, a pimple,1 Youth.SCENE I.]THE BROKEN HEART.1Directed to my lady; it may proveA mystical preparative to lewdness.Phu. Care shall be had: I will turn every threadAbout me to an eye.- [ Aside] Here's a sweet life!Bass. The city housewives, cunning in the trafficOf chamber merchandise, set all at priceBy wholesale; yet they wipe their mouths and simper,Cull, ¹ kiss, and cry " sweetheart, " and stroke the headWhich they have branched; and all is well again!Dull clods of dirt, who dare not feel the rubsStuck on their foreheads.Phu.One cannot hold his own in't.Bass.207'Tis a villainous world;Dames at court,Who flaunt in riots, run another bias;Their pleasure heaves the patient ass that suffersUp on the stilts of office, titles, incomes

Promotion justifies the shame, and sues for't.Poor honour, thou art stabbed, and bleed'st to deathBy such unlawful hire! The country mistressIs yet more wary, and in blushes hidesWhatever trespass draws her troth to guilt.But all are false: on this truth I am bold,No woman but can fall, and doth, or would.--Now for the newest news about the city;What blab the voices, sirrah?Phu. O, my lord,The rarest, quaintest, strangest, tickling news That everBass.What is't?Phu.Hey-day! up and ride me, rascal!Forsooth, they say the king has mewed²All his gray beard, instead of which is buddedAnother of a pure carnation colour,Speckled withBass.green and russet.Ignorant block!1Embrace. 2 Shed. A term in falconry.208 THE BROKEN HEART. [ACT II.Phu. Yes, truly; and ' tis talked about the streets,That since Lord Ithocles came home, the lionsNever left roaring, at which noise the bearsHave danced their very hearts out.Bass. Dance out thine too.Phu. Besides, Lord Orgilus is fled to AthensUpon a fiery dragon, and ' tis thoughtHe never can return.Bass. Grant it, Apollo!Phu. Moreover, please your lordship, ' tis reportedFor certain, that whoever is found jealousWithout apparent proof that's wife is wantonShall be divorced: but this is but she- news;I had it from a midwife. I have more yet.idiots and stupid foolsWhy to be fairBass. Antic, no more!Grate my calamities.Should yield presumption of a faulty soul—Look to the doors.Phu. The horn of plenty crest him![Aside, and exit.Bass. Swarms of confusion huddle in my thoughtsIn rare distemper. -Beauty! O, it isAn unmatched blessing or a horrid curse.She comes, she comes! so shoots the morning forth,Spangled with pearls of transparent dew.-The way to poverty is to be rich,As I in her am wealthy; but for her,In all contents a bankrupt.Enter PENTHEA and GRAUSIS.Loved Penthea!How fares my heart's best joy?Grau. In sooth, not well,She is so over- sad.Bass. Leave chattering, magpie.-Thy brother is returned, sweet, safe, and honouredWith a triumphant victory; thou shalt visit him:SCENE I. ] THE BROKEN HEART. 209We will to court, where, if it be thy pleasure,Thou shalt appear in such a ravishing lustreOf jewels above value, that the damesWho brave it there, in rage to be outshined,Shall hide them in their closets, and unseenFret in their tears; whiles every wondering eyeShall crave none other brightness but thy presence.Choose thine own recreations; be a queenOf what delights thou fanciest best, what company,What place, what times; do anything, do all thingsYouth can command, so thou wilt chase these cloudsFrom the pure firmament of thy fair looks.Grau. Now ' tis well said, my lord .---What, lady! laugh,Be merry; time is precious.Bass. [Aside] Furies whip thee!Pen. Alas, my lord, this language to your hand- maidSounds as would music to the deaf; I needNo braveries nor cost of art to drawThe whiteness of my name into offence:Let such, if any such there are, who covetA curiosity of admiration,By laying- out their plenty to full view,Appear in gaudy outsides; my attiresShall suit the inward fashion of my mind;From which, if your opinion, nobly placed,Change not the livery your words bestow,My fortunes with my hopes are at the highest.Bass. This house, methinks, stands somewhat too muchinward,It is too melancholy; we'll removeNearer the court: or what thinks my PentheaOf the delightful island we command?Rule me as thou canst wish.Pen. I am no mistress:Whither you please, I must attend; all waysAre alike pleasant to me.Grau.Ford.Island! prison;P210 THE BROKEN HEART [ACT II. .A prison is as gaysome: we'll no islands;Marry, out upon ' em! whom shall we see there?Sea-gulls, and porpoises, and water-rats,And crabs, and mews, and dog-fish; goodly gearFor a young lady's dealing, —or an old one's!On no terms islands; I'll be stewed first.Bass. [ Aside to GRAUSIS] Grausis,You are a juggling bawd. —This sadness, sweetest,Becomes not youthful blood.-[Aside to GRAUSIS] I'llhave you pounded.—For my sake put on a more cheerful mirth;Thou'lt mar thy cheeks, and make me old in griefs.-Aside to GRAUSIS] Damnable bitch-fox!Grau. I am thick of hearing,Still, when the wind blows southerly. -What think ye,If your fresh lady breed young bones, my lord!Would not a chopping boy d'ye good at heart?But, as you said—Bass. [Aside to GRAUSIS] I'll spit thee on a stake,Or chop thee into collops!Grau.Sure, sure the wind blows south still.Pen.Pray, speak louder.Thou prat'st madly.Bass. "Tis very hot; I sweat extremely.Re-enter PHULAS,Phu. A herd of lords, sir,Now?Bass. Ha!Phu.A flock of ladies.Bass. Where?Phu. Shoals of horses.Bass.Phu.Peasant, how?Caroches¹In drifts; the one enter, the other stand without, sir:And now I vanish.1 Coaches.[Exit,SCENE I. ] THE BROKEN HEART. 211Enter PROPHILUS, HEMOPHIL, GRONEAS, CHRISTALLA,Pro.and PHILEMA.Noble Bassanes!Bass. Most welcome, Prophilus; ladies, gentlemen,To all my heart is open; you all honour me, -[Aside] Atympany swells in my head already, -Honour me bountifully.-[Aside] How they flutter,Wagtails and jays together!Pro. From your brotherBy virtue of your love to him, I requireYour instant presence, fairest.Pen. He is well, sir?Pro. The gods preserve him ever! Yet, dear beauty,I find some alteration in him lately,Since his return to Sparta. - My good lord,I pray, use no delay.Bass. We had not neededAn invitation, if his sister's healthHad not fall'n into question. -Haste, Penthea,Slack not a minute. -Lead the way, good Prophilus;I'll follow step by step.Pro. Your arm, fair madam.[Exeunt all but BASSANES and Grausis.Bass. One word with your old bawdship: th' hadstbeen betterRailed at the sins 1 thou worshipp'st than have thwartedMy will: I'll use thee cursedlyGrau.You are beside yourself. A politicianYou dote,In jealousy? no, you're too gross, too vulgar.Pish, teach not me my trade; I know my cue:My crossing you sinks me into her trust,By which I shall know all; my trade's a sure one.Bass. Forgive me, Grausis, ' twas considerationI relished not; but have a care now.1 Altered by Gifford to " saints. "212 THE BROKEN HEART [ACT II . .Grau.I am no new- come-to't.Bass.Fear not,Thy life's upon it,And so is mine. My agonies are infinite. [Exeunt.SCENE II . The Palace. ITHOCLES' Apartment.Enter ITHOCLES.Ith. Ambition! ' tis of vipers ' breed: it gnawsA passage through the womb that gave it motion.· Ambition, like a seelèd¹ dove, mounts upward,Higher and higher still, to perch on clouds,But tumbles headlong down with heavier ruin.So squibs and crackers fly into the air,Then, only breaking with a noise, they vanishIn stench and smoke. Morality, appliedTo timely practice, keeps the soul in tune,At whose sweet music all our actions dance:But this is formed of books and school-tradition;It physics not the sickness of a mindBroken with griefs: strong fevers are not easedWith counsel, but with best receipts and means;Means, speedy means and certain; that's the cure.Enter ARMOSTES and CROTOLON.Arm. You stick, Lord Crotolon, upon a pointToo nice and too unnecessary; ProphilusIs every way desertful. I am confidentYour wisdom is too ripe to need instructionFrom your son's tutelage.Crot.Yet not so ripe,My Lord Armostes, that it dare to doteUpon the painted meat" of smooth persuasion,Which tempts me to a breach of faith.1 Blinded by sewing up the eye-lids , 2? Bait.SCENE II . ]THE BROKEN HEART.Ith.213Not yetResolved, my lord? Why, if your son's consentBe so available, we'll write to AthensFor his repair to Sparta: the king's handWill join with our desires; he has been moved to't.Arm. Yes, and the king himself impórtuned CrotolonFor adispatch.Crot. Kings may command; their wills Are laws not to be questioned.Ith.You knit an union so devout, so hearty,By this marriageBetween your loves to me and mine to yours,As if mine own blood had an interest in it;For Prophilus is mine, and I am his.Crot. My lord, my lord! —Ith. What, good sir? speak your thought.Crot. Had this sincerity been real once,My Orgilus had not been now unwived,Nor your lost sister buried in a bride- bed:Your uncle here,Armostes, knows this truth;For had your father Thrasus lived , —but peaceDwell in his grave! I've done.Arm. You're bold and bitter.Ith. [Aside] . He presses home the injury; it smarts.-No reprehensions, uncle; I deserve ' em,Yet, gentle sir, consider what the heatOf an unsteady youth, a giddy brain,Green indiscretion, flattery of greatness,Rawness of judgment,wilfulness in folly,Thoughts vagrant as the wind and as uncertain,Might lead a boy in years to:-' twas a fault,A capital fault; for then I could not diveInto the secrets of commanding love;Since when experience, by the extremes in others,Hath forced me collect—and, trust me,Crotolon,I will redeem those wrongs withany service Your satisfaction can require for current.214 THE BROKEN HEART [ACT II. .Arm. The acknowledgment is satisfaction:What would you more?Crot.Herself admit the motion, let it be so;I doubt not my son's liking.Ith.I'm conquered if EuphraneaUse my fortunes,Life, power, sword, and heart, —all are your own.Arm. The princess, with your sister.Enter CALANTHA, PENTHEA, EUPHRANEA, CHRISTALLA,PHILEMA, GRAUSIS, BASSANES, and PROPHILUS.Cal.I present yeA stranger here in court, my lord; for did notDesire of seeing you draw her abroad,We had not been made happy in her company.Ith. You are a gracious princess. —Sister, wedlockHolds too severe a passion in your nature,Which can engross all duty to your husband,Without attendance on so dear a mistress.-[ TO BASSANES] 'Tis not my brother's pleasure, I presume,T'immure her in a chamber.Bass. 'Tis her will;She governs her own hours. Noble Ithocles,We thank the gods for your success and welfare:Our lady has of late been indisposed,Else we had waited on you with the first.Ith. How does Penthea now?Pen.You best know, brother,From whom my health and comforts are derived.Bass. [Aside.] I like the answer well; ' tis sad andmodest.There may be tricks yet, tricks . —Have an eye, Grausis!'Cal. Now, Crotolon, the suit we joined in must notFall by too long demur.Crot.For my part.Arm.'Tis granted, princess,With condition, that his sonFavour the contract.SCENE II . ] THE BROKEN HEART. 215Cal. Such delay is easy.—The joys of marriage make thee, Prophilus,Aproud deserver of Euphranea's love,And her of thy desert!Pro. Most sweetly gracious!Bass. The joys of marriage are the heaven on earth,Life's paradise, great princess, the soul's quiet,Sinews of concord, earthly immortality,Eternity of pleasures;-no restorativesLike to a constant woman! -- [Aside] But where is she?'Twould puzzle all the gods but to createSuch a new monster. I can speak by proof,For I rest in Elysium; ' tis my happiness.Crot. Euphranea, how are you resolved, speak freely,In your affections to this gentleman?Euph. Nor more nor less than as his love assures me;Which-if your liking with my brother's warrantsI cannot but approve in all points worthy.Crot. So, so -[ To PROPHILUS] I know your answer.Ith. 'T had been pityTo sunder hearts so equally consented.Enter HEMOPHIL.Hem. The king, Lord Ithocles, commands your presence;-And, fairest princess, yours.Cal. We will attend him.Enter GRONEAS.Gro. Where are the lords? all must unto the kingWithout delay: the Prince of ArgosCal.Gro. Is coming to the court, sweet lady.Cal.The Prince ofArgos?Gro.Well, sir?How'Twas my fortune, madam,T' enjoy the honour of these happy tidings.216 THE BROKEN HEART. [ACT II.Ith. Penthea!-Pen.Ith.Brother?Let me an hour henceMeet you alone within the palace-grove;I have some secret with you . -Prithee, friend,Conduct her thither, and have special careThe walks be cleared of any to disturb us.Pro. I shall.Bass. [Aside] How's that?Ith.I am your creature, princess. -On, my lords!Alone, pray be alone.--[Exeunt all but BASSANES.Bass. Alone! alone! what means that word " alone "?Why might not I be there?-hum!-he's her brother.Brothers and sisters are but flesh and blood,And this same whor*son court-ease is temptationTo a rebellion in the veins;-besides,His fine friend Prophilus must be her guardian:Why may not he dispatch a business nimblyBefore the other come?-or-pandering, panderingFor one another, -be't to sister, mother,Wife, cousin, anything, —' mongst youths of mettleIs in request; it is so-stubborn fate!But if I be a cuckold, and can know it,I will be fell, and fell.Re-enter GRONEAS.Gro.Bass. Most heartily I thank ye.My lord, you're called for.Where's my wife,pray?Still I thank ye.Gro. Retired amongst the ladies.Bass.There's an old waiter with her; saw you her too?Gro. She sits i' the presence- lobby fast asleep, sir.Bass. Asleep! asleep, sir!Gro.You will not to the king?Is your lordship troubled?SCENE III. ] THE BROKEN HEART. 217Bass.Gro. Your servant, my good lord .Your humblest vassal.Bass. I wait your footsteps.[Exeunt.SCENE III. -The Gardens ofthe Palace. A Grove.Enter PROPHILUS and PENTHEA.Pro. In this walk, lady, will your brother find you:And, with your favour, give me leave a littleTo work a preparation. In his fashionI have observed of late some kind of slacknessTo such alacrity as nature onceAnd custom took delight in; sadness growsUpon his recreations, which he hoards.In such a willing silence, that to questionThe grounds will argue little skill in friendship ,And less good manners.Pen. Sir, I'm not inquisitiveOf secrecies without an invitation.Pro. With pardon , lady, not a syllableOf mine implies so rude a sense; the driftEnter ORGILUS, disguised as before.[ To Org. ] Do thy bestTo make this lady merry for an hour.Org. Your will shall be a law, sir. [Exit PROPHILUS.Pen. Prithee, leave me;I have some private thoughts I would account with;Use thou thine own.Org. Speak on, fair nymph; our soulsCan dance as well to music of the spheresAs any's who have feasted with the gods.Pen. Your school- terms are too troublesome.Org.Refines mortality from dross of earthWhat HeavenH218 THE BROKEN HEART. [ACT II.But such as uncompounded beauty hallowsWith glorified perfection?Pen.In a less wild proportion.Org.Set thy witsTime can neverOn the white table of unguilty faithWrite counterfeit dishonour; turn those eyes,The arrows of pure love, upon that fire,Which once rose to a flame, perfumed with vowsAs sweetly scented as the incense smokingOn Vesta's altars,the holiest odours, virgin's tears,.1. sprinkled, like dews, to feed themAnd to increase their fervour.Pen.Be not frantic,Org. All pleasures are but mere imagination,Feeding the hungry appetite with steamAnd sight of banquet, whilst the body pines,Not relishing the real taste of food:Such is the leanness of a heart dividedFrom intercourse of troth - contracted loves;No horror should deface that precious figureSealed with the lively stamp of equal souls.Pen. Away! some Fury hath bewitched thy tongue:The breath of ignorance, that flies from thence,Ripens a knowledge in me of afflictionsAbove all sufferance. -Thing of talk, begone!Begone, without reply!Org. Be just, Penthea,In thy commands; when thou send'st forth a doomOfbanishment, know first on whom it lights.Thus I take off the shroud, in which my cares1 This passage is corrupt; it was amended by Gifford; the old copy reads,"as the incense smokingThe holiest artars, virgin tears (like On Vesta's odours) sprinkled dews to feed ' em,And to increase," &c.SCENE III . ] THE BROKEN HEART. 219Are folded up from view of common eyes.[ Throws off his Scholar's dress.What is thy sentence next?Pen. Rash man! thou lay'stA blemish on mine honour, with the hazardOf thy too-desperate life: yet I profess,By all the laws of ceremonious wedlock ,I have not given admittance to one thoughtOf female change since cruelty enforcedDivorce betwixt my body and my heart.Whywould you fall from goodness thus?Org.Examine me, how I could live to sayO, ratherI have been much, much wronged. 'Tis for thy sakeI put on this imposture: dear Penthea,If thy soft bosom be not turned to marble,Thou'lt pity our calamities; my interestConfirms me thou art mine still.Pen. Lend your hand;With both of mine I clasp it thus, thus kiss it,Thus kneel before ye.Org.[ PENTHEA kneels.You instruct my duty. [ ORGILUS kneels.Pen. We may stand up. [ They rise. ] Have you aught else to urgeOf new demand? as for the old, forget it;'Tis buried in an everlasting silence,And shall be, shall be ever: what more would ye?OfOrg. I would possess my wife; the equityvery reason bids me.Pen. Is that all?Org. Why, ' tis the all of me, myself.Pen.RemoveYour steps some distance from me:- -at thisA few words I dare change; but first put onYour borrowed shape.Org.spaceYou are obeyed; ' tis done.[He resumes his disguise.220 THE BROKEN HEART. [ACT II.Pen. How, Orgilus, by promise I was thineThe heavens do witness; they can witness tooA rape done on my truth: how I do love theeYet, Orgilus, and yet, must best appearIn tendering thy freedom; for I findThe constant preservation of thy merit,By thy not daring to attempt my fameWith injury of any loose conceit,Which might give deeper wounds to discontents.Continue this fair race: then, though I cannotAdd to thy comfort, yet I shall more oftenRemember from what fortune I am fall'n ,And pity mine own ruin. —Live, live happy, —Happy in thy next choice, that thou mayst peopleThis barren age with virtues in thy issue!And O, when thou art married, think on meWith mercy, not contempt! I hope thy wife,Hearing my story, will not scorn my fall.—Now let us part.Org. Part! yet advise thee better:Penthea is the wife to Orgilus,And ever shall be.Pen.Org. How!Pen.Never shall nor will.Hear me; in a word I'll tell thee why.The virgin-dowry which my birth bestowedIs ravished by another; my true loveAbhors to think that Orgilus deservedNo better favours than a second bed.Org. I must not take this reason.Pen. To confirm it;Should I outlive my bondage, let me meetAnother worse than this and less desired,If, of all men alive, thou shouldst but touchMy lip or hand again!Org.Penthea, nowI tell ye, you grow wanton in my sufferance:Come, sweet, thou'rt mine.SCENE III. ] THE BROKEN HEART. 221Pen. Uncivil sir, forbear!Or I can turn affection into vengeance;Your reputation, if you value any,Lies bleeding at my feet. Unworthy man,If ever henceforth thou appear in language,Message, or letter, to betray my frailty,I'll call thy former protestations lust,And curse my stars for forfeit of my judgment.Go thou, fit only for disguise, and walks,To hide thy shame: this once I spare thy life.I laugh at mine own confidence; my sorrowsBy thee are made inferior to my fortunes.If ever thou didst harbour worthy love,Dare not to answer. My good genius guide me,That I may never see thee more! -Go from me!Org. I'll tear my veil of politic French off,And stand up like a man resolved to do:Action, not words, shall show me.--O Penthea! [ Exit.Pen. He sighed my name, sure, as he parted fromme:I fear I was too rough. Alas, poor gentleman!He looked not like the ruins of his youth,But like the ruins of those ruins. Honour,How much we fight with weakness to preserve thee![Walks aside.Enter BASSANES and GRAUSIS.Bass Fie on thee! damn thee, rotten maggot, damnthee!Sleep? sleep at court? and now? Aches, ' convulsions,Imposthumes, rheums, gouts, palsies, clog thy bonesAdozen years more yet!Grau. Now you're in humours.Bass. She's by herself, there's hope of that; she's sadtoo;She's in strong contemplation; yes, and fixed:'The signs are wholesome.1 The word was pronounced as a dissyllable, aitches.222 THE BROKEN HEART [ACT II . .Gau. Very wholesome, truly.Bass. Hold your chops, nightmare! -Lady, come;your brotherIs carried to his closet; you must thither.Pen. Not well, my lord?Bass. A sudden fit; ' twill off!Some surfeit or disorder. -How dost, dearest?Pen. Your news is none o' the best.Re-enter PROPHILUS.Pro.The chief of men,The excellentest Ithocles, desiresYour presence, madam.Bass. We are hasting to him.Pen. In vain we labour in this course of lifeTo piece our journey out at length, or craveRespite of breath: our home is in the grave.Bass. Perfect philosophy!Pen.Then let us careTo live so, that our reckonings may fall evenWhen we're to make account.Pro.He cannot fearWho builds on noble grounds: sickness or painIs the deserver's exercise; and suchYour virtuous brother to the world is known.Speak comfort to him, lady; be all gentle:Stars fall but in the grossness of our sight;A good man dying, the earth doth lose a light.[Exeunt.ACT THE THIRD.SCENE I.-The Study ofTECNICUS .Enter TECNICUS, and ORGILUS in his usual dress.EC. Be well advised; let not a resolutionOf giddy rashness choke the breath.of reason.Org. It shall not, most sage master.Tec. I am jealous; ¹For if the borrowed shape so late putInferred a consequence, we must concludeSome violent design of sudden natureHath shook that shadow off, to fly uponA new-hatched execution. Orgilus,Take heed thou hast not, under our integrity,Shrouded unlawful plots; our mortal eyesPierce not the secrets of your heart, the godsAre only privy to them.Org.Learned Tecnicus,Such doubts are causeless; and, to clear the truthFrom misconceit, the present state commands me.The Prince of Argos comes himself in personIn quest of great Calantha for his bride,Our kingdom's heir; besides, mine only sister,Euphranea, is disposed to Prophilus;Lastly, the king is sending letters for metTo Athens, for my quick repair to court:1 Suspicious.[on224 THE BROKEN HEART [ACT III . .Just ones, Orgilus,Please to accept these reasons.Tec.Not to be contradicted: yet bewareOf an unsure foundation; no fair coloursCan fortify a building faintly jointed .I have observed a growth in thy aspectOf dangerous extent, sudden, and-look to'tI might add, certainOrg. My aspéct! could artRun through mine inmost thoughts, it should not siftAn inclination there more than what suitedWith justice of mine honour.Tec. I believe it.But know then, Orgilus, what honour is:Honour consists not in a bare opinionBy doing any act that feeds content,Brave in appearance, ' cause we think it brave;Such honour comes by accident, not nature,Proceeding from the vices of our passion,Which makes our reason drunk: but real honourIs the reward of virtue, and acquiredBy justice, or by valour which for basis.Hath justice to uphold it. He then failsIn honour, who for lucre or revengeCommits thefts, murders, treasons, and adulteries,With suchlike, by intrenching on just laws,Whose sovereignty is best preserved by justice.Thus, as you see how honour must be groundedOn knowledge, not opinion, -for opinionRelies on probability and accident,But knowledge on necessity and truth, -I leave thee to the fit considerationOf what becomes the grace of real honour,Wishing success to all thy virtuous meanings.Org. The gods increase thy wisdom, reverend oracle,And in thy precepts make me ever thrifty!Tec. I thank thy wish. [Exit ORGILUS.SCENE I. ] THE BROKEN HEART.225Much mystery of fate Lies hid in that man's fortunes;curiosityMay lead his actions into rare attempts:But let the gods be moderators still;No human power can prevent their will.Enter ARMOSTES with a casket.From whence come ye?Arm. From King Amyclas,—pardon My interruption of your studies . -Here,In this sealed box, he sends a treasure to you,Dear to him as his crown: he prays your gravity,You would examine, ponder, sift, and boltThe pith and circ*mstance of every tittleThe scroll within contains.Tec. What is't,Armostes?Arm. It is the health of Sparta, the king's life,Sinews and safety of the commonwealth;The sum of what the oracle deliveredWhen last he visited the prophetic templeAt Delphos: what his reasons are, for which,After so long a silence, he requiresYour counsel now, grave man, his majestyWill soon himself acquaint you with.Tec. Apollo [He takes the casket.Inspire my intellect! ---The Prince of ArgosIs entertained?Arm. He is; and has demandedOur princess for his wife; which I conceiveOne special cause the king impórtunes youFor resolution of the oracle.Tec. My duty to the king, good peace to Sparta,And fair day to Armostes!Arm. Like to Tecnicus! [Exeunt.Ford.226 THE BROKEN HEART. [ACT III .SCENE II.-The Palace. ITHOCLES' Apartment.Soft music. A song within, during which PROPHILUS,BASSANES, PENTHEA, and GRAUSIS pass over thestage. BASSANES and GRAUSIS re-enter softly, andlisten in differentplaces.SONG.Can you paint a thought? or numberEvery fancy in a slumber?Can you count soft minutes rovingFrom a dial's point by moving?Can you grasp a sigh? or, lastly,Rob a virgin's honour chastely?No, O, no! yet you maySooner do both that and this,This and that, and never miss,Than by any praise displayBeauty's beauty; such a glory,As beyond all fate, all story,All arms, all arts,All loves, all hearts,Greater than those or they,Do, shall, and must obey.Bass. All silent, calm, secure. -Grausis, no creaking?No noise? dost hear nothing?Grau.Or whisper of the wind.Bass.Not a mouse,The floor is matted;The bedposts sure are steel or marble. — SoldiersShould not affect, methinks, strains so effeminate:Sounds of such delicacy are but fawningsUpon the sloth of luxury, they heightenCinders of covert lust up to a flame.Grau. What do you mean, my lord? -- speak low; thatgabblingOfyours will but undo us.4SCENE II. ] THE BROKEN HEART. 227Bass.Are felt, not heard.Chamber-combatsPro. [Within]He wakes.Bass. What's that?Ith. [Within]Who's there?Sister?-All quit the room else.Bass. 'Tis consented!Re-enter PROPHILUS.Pro. Lord Bassanes, your brother would be private,We must forbear; his sleep hath newly left him.Please ye withdraw.Bass. By any means; ' tis fit.Yes, I will, sir. [ Exeunt.Pro. Pray, gentlewoman, walk too.Grau.The scene opens; ITHOCLES is discovered in a chair, andPENTHEA beside him.Ith. Sit nearer, sister to me; nearer yet:We had one father, in one womb took life,Were brought up twins together, yet have livedAt distance, like two strangers: I could wishThat the first pillow whereon I was cradledHad proved to me a grave.Pen.You had been happy:Then had you never known that sin of lifeWhich blots all following glories with a vengeance,For forfeiting the last will of the dead,From whom you had your being.Ith. Sad Penthea,Thou canst not be too cruel; my rash spleenHath with a violent hand plucked from thy bosomA love-blest heart, to grind it into dust;For which mine's now a- breaking.Pen. Not yet, Heaven,I do beseech thee! first let some wild firesScorch, not consume it! may the heat be cherished228 THE BROKEN HEART [ACT III..With desires infinite, but hopes impossible!Ith. Wronged soul, thy prayers are heard.Pen.A miserable creature, led to ruinBy an unnatural brother!Ith. I consumeHere, lo , I breathe,In languishing affections for that trespass;Yet cannot die.Pen.Of country toil drinks the untroubled streamsWith leaping kids and with the bleating lambs,And so allays her thirst secure; whiles IQuench my hot sighs with fleetings of my tears.The handmaid to the wagesIth. The labourer doth eat his coarsest bread,Earned with his sweat, and lies him down to sleep;While every bit I touch turns in digestionTo gall as bitter as Penthea's curse.Put me to any penance for my tyranny,And I will call thee merciful.Pen. Pray kill me,Rid me from living with a jealous husband;Then we will join in friendship, be againBrother and sister. -Kill me, pray; nay, will ye?Ith. How does thy lord esteem thee?Pen.Such an oneAs only you have made me; a faith-breaker,A spotted whor*:-forgive me, I am one—In act, not in desires, the gods must witness .Ith. Thou dost belie thy friend.Pen. I do not, Ithocles;For she that's wite to Orgilus, and livesIn known adultery with Bassanes,Is at the best a whor*. Wilt kill me now?The ashes of our parents will assumeSome dreadful figure, and appear to charge.Thy bloody guilt, that hast betrayed their nameTo infamy in this reproachful match.SCENE II. ] THE BROKEN HEART. 229Ith. After my victories abroad, at homeI meet despair; ingratitude of natureHath made my actions monstrous: thou shalt standA deity, my sister, and be worshippedFor thy resolved martyrdom; wronged maidsAnd married wives shall to thy hallowed shrineOffer their orisons, and sacrificePure turtles, crowned with myrtle; if thy pityUnto a yielding brother's pressure lendOne finger but to ease it.Pen. O, no more!Ith. Death waits to waft me to the Stygian banks,And free me from this chaos of my bondage;And till thou wilt forgive, I must endure.Pen, Who is the saint you serve?Ith. Friendship, or nearnessOf birth to any but my sister, durst notHave moved that question; 'tis a secret, sister,I dare not murmur to myself.Pen. Let me,By your new protestations I conjure ye,Partake her name.Ith.Her name?-' tis-' tis-I dare not.They are not. -Peace!Pen. All your respects are forged.Ith.Calantha is —the princess-the king's daughterSole heir of Sparta. -Me, most miserable!Do I now love thee? for my injuriesRevenge thyself with bravery, and gossipMy treasons to the king's ears, do: -CalanthaKnows it not yet, nor Prophilus, my nearest.Pen. Suppose you were contracted to her, would itnotSplit even your very soul to see her fatherSnatch her out of your arms against her will,And force her on the Prince of Argos?Ith.Trouble not230 THE BROKEN HEART [ACT III. .The fountains of mine eyes with thine own story;I sweat in blood for't.Pen. We are reconciled.Alas, sir, being children, but two branchesOf one stock, ' tis not fit we should divide:Have comfort, you may find it .Ith.Only in thee, Penthea mine.Pen.Yes, in thee;If sorrowsHave not too much dulled my infected brain,I'll cheer invention for an active strain.Ith. Mad man! why have I wronged a maid soexcellent!BASSANES rushes in with a poniard, followed by PROPHILUS, GRONEAS, HEMOPHIL, and GRAUSIS.Bass. I can forbear no longer; more, I will not:Keep off your hands, or fall upon my point.—Patience is tired; for, like a slow- paced ass,Ye ride my easy nature, and proclaimMy sloth to vengeance a reproach and property.Ith. The meaning of this rudeness?Pro.Pen. O, my grieved lord!-Grau.He's distracted.Sweet lady, come not near him;He holds his perilous weapon in his handTo prick he cares not whom nor where, see, see, see!Bass. My birth is noble: though the popular blastOf vanity, as giddy as thy youth,Hath reared thy name up to bestride a cloud,1Or progress in the chariot of the sun,I am no clod of trade, to lackey pride,1 This passage is not without curiosity as tending to prove that some of the words now supposed to be Americanisms were in use among our ancestors, and crossed the Atlantic with them. It isnot generally known that Ford's county ( Devonshire) supplied avery considerable number of the earlier settlers in the Colonies.- Gifford.SCENE II . ] THE BROKEN HEART. 231Nor, like your slave of expectation, waitThe bawdy hinges of your doors, or whistleFor mystical conveyance to your bed- sports.Gro. Fine humours! they become him.Hem. Howhe stares,Struts, puffs, and sweats! most admirable lunacy!Ith. But that I may conceive the spirit of wineHas took possession of your soberer custom,I'd say you were unmannerly.Pen.Dear brother!-Bass. Unmannerly! -mew, kitling! -smooth formalityIs usher to the rankness of the blood,But impudence bears up the train. Indeed, sir,Your fiery mettle, or your springal blazeOf huge renown, is no sufficient royaltyTo print upon my forehead the scorn, " cuckold. "Ith. His jealousy has robbed him of his wits;He talks he knows not what.Bass. Yes, and he knowsTo whom he talks; to one that franks his lustIn swine- security ¹ of bestial incest.Ith. Ha, devil!Bass.1I will haloo't; though I blush moreTo name the filthiness than thou to act it.Ith. Monster! [Draws his sword.Pro. Sir, by our friendship—Pen. By our bloodsOut on him!Will you quite both undô us, brother?Grau.These are his megrims, firks, and melancholies.2Hem. Well said, old touch- hole.Gro. Kick him out of doors.1 Bassanes alludes to the small enclosures-" franks, " as distinguished from " styes ” —in which boars were fattened . As these animals were dangerous when full- fed, it was necessary to shut them up alone.-Gifford.2 Freaks.232 THE BROKEN HEART [ACT III. ,Pen. With favour, let me speak. —My lord, what slacknessIn my obedience hath deserved this rage?Except humility and silent dutyHave drawn on your unquiet, my simplicityNe'er studied your vexation.Bass. Light of beauty,Deal not ungently with a desperate wound!No breach of reason dares make war with herWhose looks are sovereignty, whose breath is balm:O, that I could preserve thee in fruitionAs in devotion!Pen. Sir, may every evilLocked in Pandora's box shower, in your presence,On my unhappy head, if, since you made meA partner in your bed, I have been faultyIn one unseemly thought against your honour!Ith. Purge not his griefs, Penthea.Bass. Yes, say on,Excellent creature! -[ To ITHOCLES. ] Good, be not ahindranceTo peace and praise of virtue. -O, my sensesAre charmed with sounds celestial! --On, dear, on:I never gave you one ill word; say, did I?Indeed I did not.Pen.Was I e'er guilty of a wanton error.Bass. A goddess! let me kneel,Grau.Nor, by Juno's forehead,Alas, kind animal!Noble sir, what is it?Ith. No; but for penance.Bass.With gladness I embrace it; yet, pray let notMy rashness teach you to be too unmerciful.Ith. When you shall show good proof that manly wisdom,Not overswayed by passion or opinion ,Knows how to lead your judgment, then this lady,SCENE II . ] THE BROKEN HEART. 233Your wife, my sister, shall return in safetyHome, to be guided by you; but, till firstI can out of clear evidence approve it,She shall be my care.Bass. 1 Rip my bosom up,I'll stand the execution with a constancy;This torture is insufferable.Ith. Well, sir,ButI dare not trust her to your fury.Bass.Penthea says not so.Pen. She needs no tongueTo plead excuse who never purposed wrong.[Exit with ITHOCLES and PROPhilus,Hem. Virgin of reverence and antiquity,Stay you behind .[ To GRAUSIS, who is following PENTHEA.Gro. The court wants not your diligence.[Exeunt HEMOPHIL and GRONEAS.Grau. What will you do, my lord? my lady's gone;I am denied to follow.Bass. I may see her,And feel her too, man;Or speak to her once more?Grau.Be of good cheer, she's your own flesh and bone.Bass. Diseases desperate must find cures alike.She swore she has been true.Grau. True, on my modesty.Bass. Let him want truth who credits not her vows!Much wrong I did her, but her brother infinite;Rumour will voice me the contempt of manhood,Should I run on thus: some way I must tryTo outdo art, and jealousy decry. [Exeunt.234 THE BROKEN HEART [ACT III. .SCENE III.-A Room in the Palace.Flourish. Enter AMYCLAS, NEARCHUS, leading CALANtha, Armostes, CROTOLON, EUPHRANEA, CHRISTALLA,PHILEMA, and AMELUS.Amy. Cousin of Argos, what the heavens have pleased,In their unchanging counsels, to concludeFor both our kingdoms' weal, we must submit to:Nor can we be unthankful to their bounties,Who, when we were even creeping to our grave,Sent us a daughter, in whose birth our hopeContinues of succession. As you areIn title next, being grandchild to our aunt,So we in heart desire you may sit nearestCalantha's love; since we have ever vowedNot to enforce affection by our will,But by her own choice to confirm it gladly.Near. You speak the nature of a right just father.I come not hither roughly to demandMy cousin's thraldom, but to free mine own:Report of great Calantha's beauty, virtue,Sweetness, and singular perfections, courtedAll ears to credit what I find was publishedBy constant truth; from which, if any serviceOf my desert can purchase fair construction,This lady must command it.Cal Princely sir, .So well you know how to profess observance,That you instruct your hearers to becomePractitioners in duty; of which numberI'll study to be chief.Near. Chief, glorious virgin,In my devotion, as in all men's wonder.Amy. Excellent cousin, we deny no liberty;Use thine own opportunities. -Armostes,We must consult with the philosophers;The business is of weight.SCENE III. ] THE BROKEN HEART. 235Arm. Sir, at your pleasure.Amy. You told me, Crotolon , your son's returnedFrom Athens: wherefore comes he not to court,As we commanded?Crot.Your royal will, great sir.Amy.He shall soon attendThe marriageBetween young Prophilus and EuphraneaTastes oftoo much delay.Crot.Amy.My lord, -Some pleasuresAt celebration of it would give lifeTo the entertainment of the prince our kinsman;Our court wears gravity more than we relish.Arm. Yet the heavens smile on all your high attempts,Without a cloud.Crot.Cal. A prince a subject?Near.So may the gods protect us!Yes, to beauty's sceptre;You are too courtly.As all hearts kneel, so mine.Cal.Enter ITHOCLES, Orgilus, and PROPHILUS.Ith. Your safe return to Sparta is most welcome:I joy to meet you here, and, as occasionShall grant us privacy, will yield you reasonsWhy I should covet to deserve the titleOf your respected friend; for, without compliment,Believe it, Orgilus, ' tis my ambition.Org. Your lordship may command me, your poorservant.Ith. [Aside] So amorously close! --so soon! -myheart!Pro. What sudden change is next?Ith. Life to the king!To whom I here present this noble gentleman;236 THE BROKEN HEART. [AÇT III.!New come from Athens: royal sir, vouchsafeYour gracious hand in favour of his merit.[The King gives ORGILUS his hand to kiss.Crot. [Aside] My son preferred by Ithocles!Amy. Our bountiesShall open to thee, Orgilus; for instance, —Hark in thine ear, -if, out of those inventionsWhich flow in Athens, thou hast there engrossedSome rarity of wit, to grace the nuptialsOf thy fair sister, and renown our courtIn the eyes of this young prince, we shall be debtorTo thy conceit; think on't.Org. Your highness honours me.Near. My tongue and heart are twins.Cal.Becoming such a father. -Worthy Orgilus,You are a guest most wished for.Org.A noble birth,May my dutyStill rise in your opinion, sacred princess!Ith. Euphranea's brother, sir; a gentlemanWell worthy of your knowledge.Near.Proud of so dear acquaintance.Amy.We embrace him,All prepareFor revels and disport; the joys of Hymen,Like Phoebus in his lustre, put to flightAll mists of dulness, crown the hours with gladness:No sounds but music, no discourse but mirth!Cal. Thine arm, I prithee, Ithocles. -Nay, goodMy lord, keep on your way; I am provided.Near. I dare not disobey.Ith. Most heavenly lady![Exeunt.SCENE IV. ] THE BROKEN HEART. 237SCENE IV. -A Room in the House of CROTOLON.Enter CROTOLON and ORGILUS.Crot. The king hath spoke his mind.Org.But were it lawful to hold plea againstHis will he hath;The power of greatness, not the reason, haplySuch undershrubs as subjects sometimes mightBorrow of nature justice, to informThat license sovereignty holds without checkOver a meek obedience.Crot. How resolve youTouching your sister's marriage? ProphilusIs a deserving and a hopeful youth.Org. I envy not his merit, but applaud it;Could wish him thrift in all his best desires,And with a willingness inleague our bloodWith his, for purchase of full growth in friendship.He never touched on any wrong that malicedThe honour of our house nor stirred our peace:Yet, with your favour, let me not forgetUnder whose wing he gathers warmth and comfort,Whose creature he is bound, made, and must live so.Crot. Son, son, I find in thee a harsh condition; 'No courtesy can win it, ' tis too rancorous.Org. Good sir, be not severe in your construction;I am no stranger to such easy calmsAs sit in tender bosoms: lordly IthoclesHath graced my entertainment in abundance;Too humbly hath descended from that heightOf arrogance and spleen which wrought the rapeOn grieved Penthea's purity; his scornOf my untoward fortunes is reclaimed'Unto a courtship, almost to a fawning: ---I'll kiss his foot, since you will have it so.Crot. Since I will have it so! friend, I will have it so,1 i.e. Disposition .238 THE BROKEN HEART. [ACT III.Without our ruin by your politic plots,Or wolf of hatred snarling in your breast.You have a spirit, sir, have ye? a familiarThat posts i' the air for your intelligence?Some such hobgoblin hurried you from Athens,For yet you come unsent for.Org.If unwelcome,I might have found a grave there.Crot. Sure, your businessWas soon dispatched, or your mind altered quickly.Org. 'Twas care, sir, of my health cut short my journey;For there a general infectionThreatens a desolation.Crot. And I fearThou hast brought back a worse infection with thee, —Infection of thy mind; which, as thou say'st,Threatens the desolation of our family.Org. Forbid it, our dear genius! I will ratherBe made a sacrifice on Thrasus' monument,Or kneel to Ithocles his son in dust,Than woo a father's curse. My sister's marriageWith Prophilus is from my heart confirmed;May I live hated, may I die despised,If I omit to further it in allThat can concern me!Crot. I have been too rough.My duty to my king made me so earnest;Excuse it, Orgilus.Org.Crot.Dear sir!-Here comesEuphranea, with Prophilus and Ithocles.Enter PROPHILUS, EUPHRANEA, ITHOCLES, GRONEASand HEMOPHIL.Org. Most honoured! -ever famous!Your true friend;Ith.On earth not any truer. - With smooth eyesSCENE IV. ] THE BROKEN HEART. 2391Look on this worthy couple; your consentCan only make them one.Org. They have it. -Sister,Thou pawnedst to me an oath, of which engagementI never will release thee, if thou aim'stAt any other choice than this.Euph.At him, or none.Crot.Dear brother,To which my blessing's added.Org. Which, till a greater ceremony perfect, -Euphranea, lend thy hand, --here, take her, Prophilus:Live long a happy man and wife; and further,That these in presence may conclude an omen.Thus for a bridal song I close my wishes:(Sings) Comforts lasting, loves increasing,Like soft hours never ceasing:Plenty's pleasure, peace complying,Without jars, or tongues envying;Hearts by holy union wedded,More than theirs by custom bedded;Fruitful issues; life so graced,Not by age to be defaced,Budding, as the year ensu'th,Every spring another youth:All what thought can add besideCrown this bridegroom and this bride!Pro. You have sealed joy close to mysoul. - EuphraneaNow I may call thee mine.Ith.One good friend for another.Org.I but exchangeIf these gallantsWill please to grace a poor inventionBy joining with me in some slight device,I'll venture on a strain my younger daysHave studied for delight.Hem.I offer my attendance.With thankful willingness240 THE BROKEN HEART. [ACT III.Gro.No endeavourWe willOf mine shall fail to show itself.Ith.All join to wait on thy directions, Orgilus.Org. O, my good lord, your favours flow towardsA too unworthy worm; -but as you please;I am what you will shape me.A fast friend. Ith.Crot. I think thee, son, for this acknowledgment;It is a sight of gladness.Org.But my duty. [Exeunt.SCENE V. -CALANTHA'S Apartment in the Palace.Enter CALANTHA, PENTHEA, CHRISTALLA, andPHILEMA.Cal. Whoe'er would speak with us, deny his entrance;Be careful of our charge.Chris. We shall, madam.Cal. Except the king himself, give none admittance;Not any.Phil. Madam, it shall be our care.[Exeunt CHRISTALLA and PHILEMA.Cal. Being alone, Penthea, you have granted.The opportunity you sought, and mightAt all times have commanded.Pen.'Tis a benefitWhich I shall owe your goodness even in death for:My glass of life , sweet princess, hath few minutesRemaining to run down; the sands are spent;For by an inward messenger I feel The summons of departure short and certain.Cal. You feel too much your melancholy.Pen.Of human greatness are but pleasing dreamsGloriesSCENE V.] THE BROKEN HEART. 241And shadows soon decaying: on the stageOf my mortality my youth hath actedSome scenes of vanity, drawn out at lengthBy varied pleasures, sweetened in the mixture,But tragical in issue: beauty, pomp,With every sensuality our giddinessDoth frame an idol, are unconstant friends,When any troubled passion makes assaultOn the unguarded castle of the mind.Cal. Contemn not your condition for the proofOf bare opinion only: to what endReach all these moral texts?Pen.To place before yeA perfect mirror, wherein you may seeHow weary I am of a lingering life,Who count the best a misery.Cal. IndeedYou have no little cause; yet none so greatAs to distrust a remedy.Pen. That remedyMust be a winding- sheet, a fold of lead,And some untrod- on corner in the earth.Not to detain your expectation, princess,I have an humble suit.Cal. Speak; I enjoy it.Pen. Vouchsafe, then, to be my executrix,And take that trouble on ye to disposeSuch legacies as I bequeath impartially;I have not much to give, the pains are easy;Heaven will reward your piety, and thank itWhen I am dead; for sure I must not live;I hope I cannot.Cal. Now, beshrew thy sadness,Thou turn'st me too much woman.Pen. [Aside][Weeps.Her fair eyesMelt into passion.---Then I have assuranceEncouraging my boldness. In this paperFord. R242 THE BROKEN HEART [ACT III. .My will was charactered; which you, with pardon,Shall now know from mine own mouth.Cal.It is a pretty earnest.Pen.Talk on, prithee;I have left meBut three poor jewels to bequeath. The first isMy youth; for though I am much old in griefs,In years I am a child.Cal. To whom that jewel?Pen. To virgin- wives, such as abuse not wedlockBy freedom of desires, but covet chieflyThe pledges of chaste beds for ties of love,Rather than ranging of their blood; and nextTo married maids, such as prefer the numberOf honourable issue in their virtuesBefore the flattery of delights by marriage:May those be ever young!Cal.You mean to part with?Pen.A second jewel'Tis my fame, I trustBy scandal yet untouched: this I bequeathTo Memory, and Time's old daughter, Truth.If ever my unhappy name find mentionWhen I am fall'n to dust, may it deserveBeseeming charity without dishonour!Cal. How handsomely thou play'st with harmlesssportOf mere imagination! speak the last.I strangely like thy will.Pen. This jewel, madam,Is dearly precious to me; you must useThe best of your discretion to employThis gift as I intend it.Cal. Do not doubt me.Pen. 'Tis long agone since first I lost my heart:Long I have lived without it, else for certainI should have given that too; but insteadSCENE V. ] THE BROKEN HEART. 243Ofit, to great Calantha, Sparta's heir,By service bound and by affection vowed,I do bequeath, in holiest rites of love,Mine only brother, Ithocles.Cal.What saidst thou?Pen. Impute not, heaven-blest lady, to ambitionA faith as humbly perfect as the prayersOf a devoted suppliant can endow it:Look on him, princess, with an eye of pity;How like the ghost of what he late appearedHe moves before you.Cal. Shall I answer here,Or lend my ear too grossly?Pen. First his heartShall fall in cinders, scorched by your disdain,Ere he will dare, poor man, to ope an eyeOn these divine looks, but with low- bent thoughtsAccusing such presumption; as for words,He dares not utter any but of service:Yet this lost creature loves ye. -Be a princessIn sweetness as in blood; give him his doom,Or raise him up to comfort.Cal.What new changeAppears in my behaviour, that thou dar'stTempt my displeasure?Pen. I must leave the worldTo revel in Elysium, and ' tis justTo wish my brother some advantage here;Yet, by my best hopes, Ithocles is ignorantOfthis pursuit: but if you please to kill him,Lend him one angry look or one harsh word,And you shall soon conclude how strong a powerYour absolute authority holds overHis life and end.Cal. You have forgot, Penthea,But rememberHow still I have a father.Pen.244 THE BROKEN HEART. [ACT III .I am a sister, though to methis brotherHath been, you know, unkind, O, most unkind!Cal. Christalla, Philema, where are ye?-Lady,Your check lies in my silence.Re-enter CHRISTALLA and PHILEMA.Chris. and Phil. Madam, here.Cal. I think ye sleep, ye drones: wait on PentheaUnto her lodging.- [Aside] Ithocles? wronged lady!Pen. My reckonings are made even; death or fateCan now nor strike too soon nor force too late.[Exeunt.ACT THE FOURTH.SCENE I. —The Palace. ITHOCLES' Apartment.Enter ITHOCLES and ARMOSTES.TH. Forbearyour inquisition: curiosityIs of too subtle and too searchingnature,In fears of love too quick, too slow ofcredit.-I am not what you doubt me.Arm. Nephew, be, then,As I would wish;-all is not right. -Good heaven.Confirm your resolutions for dependenceOn worthy ends, which may advance your quiet!Ith. I did the noble Orgilus much injury,But grieved Penthea more: I now repent it, -Now, uncle, now; this "' now is now too late.99So provident is folly in sad issue,That after-wit, like bankrupts ' debts, stands tallied,Without all possibilities of payment.Sure, he's an honest, very honest gentleman;1A man of single ' meaning.Arm. I believe it:Yet, nephew, ' tis the tongue informs our ears;Our eyes can never pierce into the thoughts,For they are lodged too inward:-but I questionNo truth in Orgilus. -The princess, sir.Ith. The princess! ha!Arm. With her the Prince of Argos.1 Sincere.246 THE BROKEN HEAR1 [ACT IV. .Enter NEARCHUS, leading CALANTHA; AMELUs,CHRISTALLA, Philema.Near. Great fair one, grace my hopes with anyinstanceOf livery, from the allowance of your favour;This little spark-[Attempts to take a ring from herfinger.Cal.Near.A toy!Love feasts on toys,For Cupid is a child; -vouchsafe this bounty:It cannot be denied.Cal. You shall not value,Sweet cousin, at a price, what I count cheap;So cheap, that let him take it who dares stoop for't,And give it at next meeting to a mistress:She'll thank him for't, perhaps.Ame.[ Casts the ring before ITHOCLES, who takes it up.The ring, sir, isThe princess's; I could have took it up.Ith. Learn manners, prithee.--To the blessèd owner,Upon my knees- [ Kneels and offers it to CALANTHA.Near.You're saucy.Cal.This is pretty!I am, belike, " a mistress "-wondrous pretty!--Let the man keep his fortune, since he found it;He's worthy on't. —On, cousin![ Exeunt NEARCHUS, CALANTHA, CHRISTALLA,and PHILEMA.Ith. [to AMELUS] Follow, spaniel;I'll force ye to a fawning else.Ame. You dare not. [Exit.Look ye, uncle,Arm. My lord, you were too forward.Ith.Some such there are whose liberal contentsSwarm without care in every sort of plenty;1 This was the language of courtship, and was derived from the practice of distinguishing the followers and retainers of great families by the badge or crest of the house. -Gifford.SCENE I. ] THE BROKEN HEART. 247Who after full repasts can lay them downTo sleep; and they sleep, uncle: in which silenceTheir very dreams present ' em choice of pleasures,Pleasures-observe me, uncle-of rare object;Here heaps of gold, there increments of honours,Now change of garments, then the votes of people;Anon varieties of beauties, courting,In flatteries of the night, exchange of dalliance:Yet these are still but dreams. Give me felicityOf which my senses waking are partakers,A real, visible, material happiness;And then, too, when I stagger in expectanceOfthe least comfort that can cherish life.—I saw it, sir, I saw it; for it cameFrom her own hand.Arm. The princess threw it t'ye.Ith. True; and she said -well I remember whatHer cousin prince would beg it.Arm.In anger at your taking on't.Ith.Yes, and partedPanthea,O, thou hast pleaded with a powerful language!I want a fee to gratify thy merit;But I will doArm.Ith.What is't you say?In anger!In anger let him part; for could his breath,Like whirlwinds, toss such servile slaves as lickThe dust his footsteps print into a vapour,It durst not stir a hair of mine, it should not;I'd rend it up by the roots first. To be anythingCalantha smiles on, is to be a blessingMore sacred than a petty prince of ArgosCan wish to equal or in worth or title.Arm. Contain yourself, my lord: Ixion, aimingTo embrace Juno, bosomed but a cloud,And begat Centaurs; ' tis an useful moral:248 THE BROKEN HEART. [ACT IV.Ambition hatched in clouds of mere opinionProves but in birth a prodigy.Ith. Ithank ye;Yet, with your license, I should seem uncharitableTo gentler fate, if, relishing the daintiesOf a soul's settled peace, I were so feebleNot to digest it.Arm. He deserves small trustWho is not privy- counsellor to himself.Re-enter NEARCHUS and AMELUS, with ORGILUS.Near. Brave me?Org.Your excellence mistakes his temper;For Ithocles in fashion of his mindIs beautiful, soft, gentle, the clear mirrorOf absolute perfection .Ame. Was't your modestyTermed any of the prince's servants " spaniel "?Your nurse, sure, taught you other language.Ith. Language!Near. A gallant man- at-arms is here, a doctorIn feats of chivalry, blunt and rough- spoken,Vouchsafing not the fustian of civility,Which less rash spirits style good manners.Ith.Manners!Org. No more, illustrious sir; ' tis matchless Ithocles.Near. You might have understood who I am.Ith.I did; else but the presence calmed the affront—You're cousin to the princess.Near. To the king too;A certain instrument that lent supportanceTo you colossic greatness-to that king too,You might have added.Ith. There is more divinityO fie, fie!In beauty than in majesty.Arm.Yes,SCENE 1.] THE BROKEN HEART. 249Near. This odd youth's pride turns heretic in loyalty.Sirrah! low mushrooms never rival cedars.[Exeunt NEARCHUS and AMELUS.Ith. Come back! -What pitiful dull thing am ISo to be tamely scolded at! come back!-Let him come back, and echo once againThat scornful sound of mushroom! painted coltsLike heralds' coats gilt o'er with crowns and sceptres →May bait a muzzled lion.Arm.Thy tongue is not thy friend.Org.Discretion knows no bounds.'Twas all about a little ring.Ith.Cousin, cousin,In point of honourAmelus told meA ringThe princess threw away, and I took up:Admit she threw't to me, what arm of brassCan snatch it hence? No; could he grind the hoopTo powder, he might sooner reach my heartThan steal and wear one dust on't. —Orgilus,I am extremely wronged.Org.Is not to be so slighted.Ith.Arm.Alady's favourSlighted!QuietThese vain unruly passions, which will render yeInto a madness.Org. Griefs will have their vent.Enter TECNICUS with a scroll.Arm. Welcome; thou com'st in season, reverend man,To pour the balsam of a suppling patienceInto the festering wound of ill - spent fury.Org. [Aside] What makes he here?Tec. The hurts are yet but mortal,Which shortly will prove deadly. To the king,Armostes, see in safety thou deliver250 THE BROKEN HEART [ACT IV..This sealed-up counsel; bid him with a constancyPeruse the secrets of the gods. -O Sparta,O Lacedæmon! double-named, but oneIn fate when kingdoms reel, -mark well my saw, -Their heads must needs be giddy. Tell the kingThat henceforth he no more must inquire afterMy aged head; Apollo wills it soI am for Delphos.Arm. Not without some conferenceNever more to see him:With our great master?Tec.A greater prince commands me. Ithocles,"When youth is ripe, and age from time doth part,The lifeless trunk shall wed the broken heart. "Ith. What's this, if understood?Tec.Remember what I told thee long before,These tears shall be my witness.Arm.List, Orgilus;' Las, good man!Tec. " Let craft with courtesy a while confer,Revenge proves its own executioner. "Org. Dark sentences are for Apollo's priests;I am not Edipus.Tec. My hour is come;Cheer up the king; farewell to all. —O Sparta,O Lacedæmon!Arm. If prophetic fire[Exit.Have warmed this old man's bosom, we might construeHis words to fatal sense.Ith. Leave to the powersAbove us the effects of their decrees;My burthen lies within me: servile fearsPrevent no great effects -Divine Calantha!Arm. The gods be still propitious!Org.[ Exeunt ITHOCLES and ARMOSTES.Something oddlyThe book-man prated, yet he talked it weeping;SCENE II . ] THE BROKEN HEART. 251" Let craft with courtesy a while confer,Revenge proves its own executioner. "Con it again; for what? It shall not puzzle me;'Tis dotage of a withered brain. - PentheaForbade me not her presence; I may see her,And gaze my fill. Why see her, then, I may,When, if I faint to speak-I must be silent. [Exit.SCENE II -A Room in BASSANES' House.Enter BASSANES, GRAUSIS, and PHULAS.Bass. Pray, use your recreations, all the serviceI will expect is quietness amongst ye;Take liberty at home, abroad, at all times,And in your charities appease the gods,Whom I, with my distractions, have offended.Grau. Fair blessings on thy heart!Phu. [Aside] Here's a rare change!My lord, to cure the itch, is surely gelded;The cuckold in conceit hath cast his horns.Bass. Betake ye to your several occasionss;And wherein I have heretofore been faulty,Let your constructions mildly pass it over;Henceforth I'll study reformation, -moreI have not for employment.Grau. O, sweet man!Thou art the very " Honeycomb of Honesty."Phu. The "Garland of Good-will. " 1 - Old lady, hold upThy reverend snout, and trot behind me softly,As it becomes a moil of ancient carriage.[Exeunt GRAUSIS and PHULAS.Bass. Beasts, only capable of sense, enjoy1 The Honeycomb ofHonesty, like the Garland ofGoodwill, was probably one of the popular miscellanies of the day. - Gifford.2 i.e. Mule.1252 THE BROKEN HEART. [ACT IV.The benefit of food and ease with thankfulness;Such silly creatures, with a grudging, kick notAgainst the portion nature hath bestowed:But men, endowed with reason and the useOfreason, to distinguish from the chaffOf abject scarcity the quintessence,Soul, and elixir of the earth's abundance,The treasures of the sea, the air, nay, heaven,Repining at these glories of creationAre verier beasts than beasts; and of those beastsThe worst am I: I , who was made a monarchOf what a heart could wish for,‚ —a chaste wife, —Endeavoured what in me lay to pull downThat temple built for adoration only,And level't in the dust of causeless scandal.But, to redeem a sacrilege so impious,Humility shall pour, before the deitiesI have incensed, a largess of more patienceThan their displeasèd altars can require:No tempests of commotion shall disquietThe calms of my composure.Org:Enter ORGILUS.I have found thee,Thou patron of more horrors than the bulkOf manhood, hooped about with ribs of iron,Can cram within thy breast: Penthea, Bassanes,Cursed by thy jealousies, -more, by thy dotage, --Is left a prey to words.Bass. ExerciseYour trials for addition to my penance;I am resolved.Org. Play not with miseryPast cure: some angry minister of fate hathDeposed the empress of her soul, her reason,From its most proper throne; but, what's the miracleMore new, I, I have seen it, and yet live!SCENE II.] THE BROKEN HEART. 2537Bass. You may delude my senses, not my judgment;'Tis anchored into a firm resolution;Dalliance of mirth or wit can ne'er unfix it:1Practise yet further.Org. May thy death of love to herDamn all thy comforts to a lasting fastFrom every joy of life! Thou barren rock,By thee we have been split in ken of harbour.Enter PENTHEA with her hair loose, ITHOCLES, ARMOSTES,PHILEMA, and CHRISTALLA.Ith. Sister, look up; your Ithocles, your brother,Speaks t'ye; why do you weep? dear, turn not from me.---Here is a killing sight; lo, Bassanes,A lamentable object!Org.Man, does see't?Sports are more gamesome; am I yet in merriment?Why dost not laugh?Bass. Divine and best of ladies,Please, to forget my outrage; mercy everCannot but lodge under a roof so excellent:I have cast off that cruelty of frenzyWhich once appeared imposture, and then juggledTo cheat my sleeps of rest.Org.Was I in earnest?Pen. Sure, if we were all Sirens, we should sing pitifully,And ' twere a comely music, when in partsOne sung another's knell: the turtle sighsWhen he hath lost his mate; and yet some sayHe must be dead first: 'tis a fine deceitTo pass away in a dream! indeed, I've sleptWith mine eyes open a great while. No falsehoodEquals a broken faith; there's not a hairSticks on my head but, like a leaden plummet,It sinks me to the grave: I must creep thither;The journey is not long.1 i.e. Practise on my patience.254 THE BROKEN HEART. [ACT IV.Ith. But thou, Penthea,Hast many years, I hope, to number yet,Ere thou canst travel that way.Bass. Let the sun firstBe wrapped up in an everlasting darkness,Before the light of nature, chiefly formedFor the whole world's delight, feel an eclipseSo universal!Org. Wisdom, look ye, beginsTo rave -art thou mad too, antiquity?Pen. Since I was first a wife, I might have beenMother to many pretty prattling babes;They would have smiled when I smiled, and for certainI should have cried when they cried: -truly, brother,My father would have picked me out a husband,And then my little ones had been no bastards;But ' tis too late for me to marry now,I am past child-bearing; ' tis not my fault.Bass. Fall on me, if there be a burning Ætna,And bury me in flames! sweats hot as sulphurBoil through my pores! affliction hath in storeNo torture like to this.Org. Behold a patience!Lay-by thy whining gray dissimulation, ¹Do something worth a chronicle; show justiceUpon the author of this mischief; dig outThe jealousies that hatched this thraldom firstWith thine own poniard: every antic raptureCan roar as thine does.Ith. Orgilus, forbear.Bass. Disturb him not; it is a talking motion ²Provided for my torment.What a fool am I1 Gifford remarks that this beautiful expression is happily adopted by Milton, the great plunderer of the poetical hive of our old dramatists;"He ended here; and Satan, bowing low His gray dissimulation, " &c. Par. Reg.2 Puppet.SCENE II. ] THE BROKEN HEART. 255To bandy passion! ere I'll speak a word,I will look on and burst.Pen.Org. Thou didst,malice,For it I love thee ever.Pen.I loved you once. [To ORGILUS.wronged creature: in despite ofBelieve me, I'll not hurt it.Org.Spare your hand;My heart too.Pen. Complain not though I wring it hard: I'll kiss it;O, ' tis a fine soft palm! -hark, in thine ear;Like whom do I look, prithee?—nay, no whispering.Goodness! we had been happy; too much happinessWill make folk proud, they say--but that is he—[Pointing to ITHOCLES.And yet he paid for't home; alas, his heartIs crept into the cabinet of the princess;We shall have points¹ and bride-laces. Remember,When we last gathered roses in the garden,I found my wits; but truly you lost yours.That's he, and still ' tis he.Ith.[Again pointing to ITHOCLES,Poor soul, how idlyHer fancies guide her tongue!Bass. [Aside]And break not into clamour.Org. [Aside]Keep in, vexation,She has tutored me,Some powerful inspiration checks my laziness.-Now let me kiss your hand, grieved beauty.Pen.Kiss it.-Alack, alack, his lips be wondrous cold;Dear soul, ' has lost his colour: have ye seenA straying heart? all crannies! every dropOf blood is turnèd to an amethyst,Which married bachelors hang in their ears.Org. Peace usher her into Elysium!---1 Tagged laces.256 THE BROKEN HEART [ACT IV..If this be madness, madness is an oracle. 1[Aside, and exit.Sir, not these ten days.Ith. Christalla, Philema, when slept my sister,Her ravings are so wild?Chris.Phil. We watch by her continually; besides,We can not any way pray her to eat.Bass. O, misery of miseries!Take comfort;father.-Pen.You may live well, and die a good old man:By yea and nay, an oath not to be broken,If you had joined our hands once in the temple, -'Twas since my father died, for had he livedHe would have done't, —I must have called youO, my wrecked honour! ruined by those tyrants,A cruel brother and a desperate dotage.There is no peace left for a ravished wifeWidowed by lawless marriage; to all memoryPenthea's, poor Penthea's name is strumpeted:But since her blood was seasoned by the forfeitOf noble shame with mixtures of pollution,Her blood-' tis just-be henceforth never heightenedWith taste of sustenance! starve; let that fulnessWhose plurisy hath fevered faith and modesty—Forgive me; O, I faint!Arm.[Falls into the arms ofher Attendants.Be not so wilful,Sweet niece, to work thine own destruction.Ith. NatureWill call her daughter monster! --What! not eat?Refuse the only ordinary meansWhich are ordained for life? Be not, my sister,A murderess to thyself. -Hear'st thou this, Bassanes?Bass. Foh! I am busy; for I have not thoughtsEnow to think all shall be well anon.'Tis tumbling in my head; there is a masteryIn art to fatten and keep smooth the outside,SCENE II.] THE BROKENHEART. 257Yes, and to comfort-up the vital spiritsWithout the help of food, fumes or perfumes,Perfumes or fumes.The trick on't.Pen.Let her alone; I'll search outLead me gently; heavens reward ye.Griefs are sure friends; they leave without controlNor cure nor comforts for a leprous soul.[Exit, supported by CHRISTALLA and PHILEMA.Bass. I grant ye; and will put in practice instantly`What you shall still admire: ' tis wonderful,' Tis super- singular, not to be matched;Yet, when I've done't, I've done't: -ye shall all thankme.Arm. The sight is full of terror.Ith. On my soulLies such an infinite clog of massy dulness,As that I have not sense enough to feel it.-See, uncle, the angry thing returns again;Shall's welcome him with thunder? we are haunted,And must use exorcism to conjure downThis spirit of malevolence.Arm. Mildly, nephew.Enter NEARCHUS and AMELUS.Near. I come not, sir, to chide your late disorder,Admitting that the inurement to a roughnessIn soldiers of your years and fortunes, chieflySo lately prosperous, hath not yet shook offThe custom of the war in hours of leisure;Nor shall you need excuse, since you're to renderAccount to that fair excellence, the princess,Who in her private gallery expects itFrom your own mouth alone: I am a messengerBut to her pleasure.Ith. Excellent Nearchus,Be prince still of my services, and conquerWithout the combat of dispute; I honour ye.[Exit.Ford.S258E BROKENHEART.[ACT IV.Near. The king is on a sudden indisposed,Physicians are called for; ' twere fit, Armostes,You should be near him.Arm. Sir, I kiss your hands.[ Exeunt ITHOCLES and Armostes.Near. Amelus, I perceive Calantha's bosomIs warmed with other fires than such as canTake strength from any fuel of the loveI might address to her: young Ithocles,Or ever I mistake, is lord ascendantOf her devotions; one, to speak him truly,In every disposition nobly fashioned.Ame. But can your highness brook to be so rivalled ,Considering the inequality of the persons?Near. I can, Amelus; for affections injuredBy tyranny or rigour of compulsion,Like tempest-threatened trees unfirmly rooted,Ne'er spring to timely growth: observe, for instance,Life-spent Penthea and unhappy Orgilus.Ame. How does your grace determine?Near.In public of what privately I'll further;To be jealousAnd though they shall not know, yet they shall find it.[Exeunt.SCENE III .—An Apartment in the Palace.Enter AMYCLAS, led by HEMOPHIL and GRONEAS, followedby ARMOSTES with a box, CROTOLON, and PROPhilus.AMYCLAS is placed in a chair.Amy. Our daughter is not near?Arm.Into her gallery.Amy.She is retired, sir,Where's the prince our cousin?Pro. New walked into the grove, my lord.SCENE III .] THE BROKEN HEART. 259Amy.Except Armostes, and you, Crotolon;We would be private.Pro.All leave usHealth unto your majesty!He is to Delphos;[ Exeunt PROPHILUS, HEMOPHIL, and GRONEAS.Amy. What! Tecnicus is gone?Arm.And to your royal hands presents this box.Amy. Unseal it, good Armostes; therein lieThe secrets of the oracle; out with it:[ARMOSTES takes out the scroll.Apollo live our patron! Read, Armostes.Arm. [Reads] " The plot in which the vine takes rootBegins to dry from head to foot;The stock, soon withering, want of sapDoth cause to quail the budding grape;But from the neighbouring elm a dewShall drop, and feed the plot anew. "Amy. That is the oracle: what expositionMakes the philosopher?Arm, This brief one only.[Reads] "The plot is Sparta, the dried vine the king;The quailing grape his daughter; but the thingOf most importance, not to be revealed,Is a near prince, the elm: the rest concealed.TECNICUS. "Amy. Enough; although the opening of this riddleBe but itself a riddle, yet we construeHow near our labouring age draws to a rest:But must Calantha quail too? that young grapeUntimely budded! I could mourn for her;Her tenderness hath yet deserved no rigourSo to be crossed by fate.Arm. You misapply, sir, -With favour let me speak it, -what ApolloHath clouded in hid sense; I here conjecture260. THE BROKEN HEART [ACT IV. .Her marriage with some neighbouring prince, the dewOf which befriending elm shall ever strengthenYour subjects with a sovereignty of power.Crot. Besides, most gracious lord, the pith of oraclesIs to be then digested when the eventsExpound their truth, not brought as soon to lightAs uttered; Truth is child of Time: and hereinI find no scruple, rather cause of comfort,With unity of kingdoms.Amy. May it prove so,For weal of this dear nation! —Where is Ithocles?—Armostes, Crotolon, when this withered vineOf my frail carcass, on the funeral pileIs fired into its ashes, let that young manBe hedged about still with your cares and loves:Much owe I to his worth, much to his service.—Let such as wait come in now.Arm. All attend here!Enter CALANTHA, Ithocles, Prophilus, Orgilus,EUPHRANEA, HEMOPHIL, and GRONEAS.Cal. Dear sir! king! father!Ith. O, my royal master!Amy. Cleave not my heart, sweet twins of my life'ssolace,With your forejudging fears; there is no physicSo cunningly restorative to cherishThe fall of age, or call back youth and vigour,As your consents in duty: I will shake offThis languishing disease of time, to quickenFresh pleasures in these drooping hours of sadness.Is fair Euphranea married yet to Prophilus?Crot. This morning, gracious lord.Org. This very morning;Which, with your highness' leave, you may observetoo.Our sister looks, methinks, mirthful and sprightly,SCENE III.] THE BROKEN HEART. 261As if her chaster fancy could alreadyExpound the riddle of her gain in losingA trifle maids know only that they know not.Pish! prithee, blush not; 'tis but honest changeOffashion in the garment, loose for strait,And so the modest maid is made a wife:Shrewd business-is't not, sister?Euph. You are pleasant.Amy. We thank thee, Orgilus; this mirth becomesthee.But wherefore sits the court in such a silence?A wedding without revels is not seemly.Cal. Your late indisposition, sir, forbade it.Amy. Be it thy charge, Calantha, to set forwardThe bridal sports, to which I will be present;Ifnot, at least consenting. - Mine own Ithocles,I have done little for thee yet.Ith.To the full height I stand in.Cal. [Aside]May I propose a suit?Amy.You've built meNow or never!Demand, and have it.Cal. Pray, sir, give me this young man, and no furtherAccount him yours than he deserves in all thingsTo be thought worthy mine: I will esteem himAccording to his merit.Amy. Still thou'rt my daughter,Still grow'st upon my heart.-[ To ITHOCLES] Give me thine hand;-Calantha, take thine own: in noble actionsThou'lt find him firm and absolute. -I would notHave parted with thee, Ithocles, to anyBut to a mistress who is all what I am.Ith. A change, great king, most wished for, ' cause thesame.Cal. [Aside to ITHOCLES] Thou'rt mine. Have I nowkept my word?-262 THE BROKEN HEART. [ACT IV.Ith. [Aside to CALANTHA] Divinely.Org. Rich fortunes guard, the favour of a princessRock thee, braye man, in ever- crownèd plenty!You're minion of the time; be thankful for it.-[Aside] Ho! here's a swing in destiny-apparent!The youth is up on tiptoe, yet may stumble.Amy. On to your recreations. -Now convey meUnto my bed-chamber: none on his foreheadWear a distempered look.All. The gods preserve ye!Cal. [ Aside to ITHOCLES] Sweet, be not from mysight.Ith. [Aside to CALANTHA] My whole felicity![AMYCLUS is carried out. Exeunt all butITHOCLES , who is detained by ORGILUS.Org. Shall I be bold, my lord?Ith. Thou canst not, Orgilus.Call me thine own; for Prophilus must henceforthBe all thy sister's friendship, though it cease notIn marriage, yet is oft at less command.Than when a single freedom can dispose it.Org. Most right, my most good lord, my most greatlord,My gracious princely lord, I might add, royal.Ith. Royal! a subject royal?Org. Why not, pray, sir?The sovereignty of kingdoms in their nonageStooped to desert, not birth; there's as much merit.In clearness of affection as in puddleOfgeneration: you have conquered loveEven in the loveliest; if I greatly err not,The son of Venus hath bequeathed his quiverTo Ithocles his manage, by whose arrowsCalantha's breast is opened.Ith. Can't be possible?Org. I was myself a piece of suitor once,And forward in preferment too; so forward,SCENE III. ] THE BROKEN HEART. 263That, speaking truth, I may without offence, sir,Presume to whisper that my hopes, and-hark yeMy certainty ofmarriage stood assured.With as firm footing -by your leave as any'sNow at this very instant-butIth.'Tis granted:And for a league of privacy between us,Read o'er my bosom and partake a secret;The princess is contracted mine.Org.Still, why not?I now applaud her wisdom: when your kingdomStands seated in your will secure and settled ,I dare pronounce you will be a just monarch;Greece must admire and tremble.Ith. Then the sweetnessOf so imparadised a comfort, Orgilus!It is to banquet with the gods.Org.The gloryOf numerous children, potency of nobles,Bent knees, hearts paved to tread on!Ith.So dear, so fast as thine.Org.With a friendshipI am unfittingWe'll distinguishFor office; but for serviceIth.Our fortunes merely in the title; partnersIn all respects else but the bed.Org. The bed!Forfend it Jove's own jealousy!-till lastlyWe slip down in the common earth together;And there our beds are equal; save some monumentTo show this was the king, and this the subject.—[Soft sad music.List, what sad sounds are these, -extremely sad ones?Ith. Sure, from Penthea's lodgings.Org.Hark! a voice too.264 THE BROKEN HEART. [ACT IV.SONG within.O, no more, no more, too lateSighs are spent; the burning tapersOf a life as chaste as fate,Pure as are unwritten papers,Are burnt out: no heat, no lightNow remains; ' tis ever night.Love is dead; let lovers' eyes,Locked in endless dreams,Th' extremes of all extremes,Ope no more, for now Love dies,Now Love dies, —implyingLove's martyrs must be ever, ever dying.Ith. O, my misgiving heart!Org.A horrid stillnessSucceeds this deathful air; let's know the reason:Tread softly; there is mystery in mourning. [Exeunt.SCENE IV. PENTHEA'S Apartment in the Palace.PENTHEA discovered in a chair, veiled; CHRISTALLA andPHILEMA at herfeet mourning. Enter two Servantswith two other chairs, one with an engine.¹Enter ITHOCLES and ORGilus.1st Ser. [Aside to ORGILUS] 'Tis done; that on herright hand.Org.Good: begone.Ith. Soft peace enrich this room!•Org.[Exeunt Servants.How fares the lady?1 This " engine, " as it is here called, in correspondence with thehomely properties of our old theatres, was merely a couple of movable arms added to the common chair. The contrivance itselfis of early date, and , if Pausanias ( Attica, c. 20) is to be trusted, ofSCENE IV. ] THE BROKEN HEART. 265Phil. Dead!Chris. Dead!Phil. Starved!Chris.Starved!Ith.Me miserable!Org.Tell usHow parted she from life.Phil. She called for music,And begged some gentle voice to tune a farewellTo life and griefs: Christalla touched the lute;I wept the funeral song.Chris. Which scarce was endedBut her last breath sealed-up these hollow sounds,"O, cruel Ithocles and injured Orgilus! "So down she drew her veil, so died.Ith.So died!Org. Up! you are messengers of death; go from us;[ CHRISTALLA and PHILEMA rise.Here's woe enough to court without a prompter:Away; and—hark ye—till you see us next,No syllable that she is dead. -Away,Keep a smooth brow.Ith.[Exeunt CHRISTALLA and PHILEMA.My lord, -Another is not left me.Org.I'll seat me here in this:Mine only sister!Take that chair;between us sitsThe object of our sorrows; some few tearscelestial origin. Vulcan, he tells us, in order to be revenged ofJuno for turning him out of heaven, insidiously presented her with a golden throne with hidden springs, which prevented her, after being seated upon it, from rising up again. Ford, however, brought no golden chair from Olympus: he found his simple contrivance not only on the stage, but (where his predecessors probably found it) in Bandello, Nov. i . Parte iv. vol. ix. p. 13 , ed . Milano, 1814,where it is described at length, and Deodati is entrapped by ilTurchi, precisely as Ithocles is here by Orgilus, and then stabbed with a dagger.-Gifford.266 THE BROKEN HEART. [ACT IV.We'll part among us: I perhaps can mixOne lamentable story to prepare ' em.There, there; sit there, my lord.Ith. Yes, as you please.[Sits down, the chair closes upon him.Caught you are caught,What means this treachery?Org.Young master; ' tis thy throne of coronation,Thou fool of greatness! See, I take this veil off;Survey a beauty withered by the flamesOf an insulting Phaëton, her brother.Ith. Thou mean'st to kill me basely?Org. I foreknewThe last act of her life, and trained thee hitherTo sacrifice a tyrant to a turtle.You dreamt of kingdoms, did ye? how to bosomThe delicacies of a youngling princess;How with this nod to grace that subtle courtier,How with that frown to make this noble tremble,And so forth; whiles Penthea's groans and tortures ,Her agonies, her miseries, afflictions,Ne'er touched upon your thought: as for my injuries,Alas, they were beneath your royal pity;But yet they lived, thou proud man, to confound thee.Behold thy fate; this steel! [Draws a dagger.Ith. Strike home!As keen as thy revenge shall give it welcome:A courageBut prithee faint not; if the wound close up,Tent¹ it with double force, and search it deeply.Thou look'st that I should whine and beg compassion,As loth to leave the vainness of my glories;A statelier resolution arms my confidence,To cozen thee of honour; neither could IWith equal trial of unequal fortuneBy hazard of a duel; ' twere a braveryToo mighty for a slave intending murder.1 Probe.SCENE IV. ] THE BROKEN HEART. 267On to the execution, and inheritA conflict with thy horrors.Org. By Apollo,Thou talk'st a goodly language! for requitalI will report thee to thy mistress richly:And take this peace along; some few short minutesDetermined, my resolves shall quickly followThy wrathful ghost; then, if we tug for mastery,Penthea's sacred eyes shall lend new courage.Give me thy hand: be healthful in thy partingFrom lost mortality! thus, thus I free it.Ith. Yet, yet, I scorn to shrink.Org.[Stabs him.Keep up thy spirit:I will be gentle even in blood; to lingerPain, which I strive to cure, were to be cruel.[Stabs him again.Ith. Nimble in vengeance, I forgive thee. FollowSafety, with best success: O, may it prosper!-Penthea, by thy side thy brother bleeds;The earnest of his wrongs to thy forced faith.Thoughts of ambition, or delicious banquetWith beauty, youth, and love, together perishlast breath, which on the sacred altarOf a long- looked- for peace-now-moves- -to heaven.In my[Dies.Org. Farewell, fair spring of manhood! henceforthwelcomeBest expectation of a noble sufferance.I'll lock the bodies safe , till what must followShall be approved. —Sweet twins, shine stars for ever!-In vain they build their hopes whose life is shame:No monument lasts but a happy name.[Locks the door, and exit.ACT THE FIFTH.SCENE I.-A Room in BASSANES' House.BEnter BASSANES.ASS. Athens-to Athens I have sent,the nurseryOf Greece for learning and the fount ofknowledge;For here in Sparta there's not leftamongst usOne wise man to direct; we're allturned madcaps.'Tis said Apollo is the god of herbs,Then certainly he knows the virtue of ' em:To Delphos I have sent too. If there can beA help for nature, we are sure yet.Org.Enter ORGILUS.HonourI beseech theeAttend thy counsels ever!Bass.With all my heart, let me go from thee quietly;I will not aught to do with thee, of all men.The doubles of a hare, -or, in a morning,Salutes from a splay-footed witch, -to dropThree drops of blood at th' nose just and no more, —Croaking of ravens, or the screech of owls,Are not so boding mischief as thy crossingSCENE I. ] THE BROKEN HEART. 269My private meditations: shun me, prithee;And if I cannot love thee heartily,I'll love thee as well as I can.Org.Noble Bassanes,Mistake me not.Bass. Phew! then we shall be troubled.Thou wert ordained my plague-heaven make methankful,And give me patience too, heaven, I beseech thee.Org. Accept a league of amity; for henceforth,I vow, by my best genius, in a syllable,Never to speak vexation: I will studyService and friendship, with a zealous sorrowFor my past incivility towards ye.Bass. Hey-day, good words, good words! I mustbelieve ' em,And be a coxcomb for my labour.Org.Use notSo hard a language; your misdoubt is causeless:For instance, if you promise to put onA constancy of patience, such a patienceAs chronicle or history ne'er mentioned,As follows not example, but shall standAwonder and a theme for imitation,The first, the index ¹ pointing to a second,I will acquaint ye with an unmatched secret,Whose knowledge to your griefs shall set a period.Bass. Thou canst not, Orgilus; ' tis in the powerOfthe gods only: yet, for satisfaction,2Because I note an earnest in thine utterance,Unforced and naturally free, be resolute ²The virgin- bays shall not withstand the lightningWith a more careless danger than my constancyThe full of thy relation; could it moveDistraction in a senseless marble statue,1 i.e. The index-hand common on the margin of old books.? Satisfied.270 THE BROKEN HEART. [ACT V.It should find me a rock: I do expect nowSome truth of unheard moment.Org.To your patienceYou must add privacy, as strong in silenceAs mysteries locked -up in Jove's own bosom.Bass. A skull hid in the earth a treble ageShall sooner prate.Org.Lastly, to such directionAs the severity of a glorious actionDeserves to lead your wisdom and your judgment,You ought to yield obedience.Bass.Of will and thankfulness .Org.Please, then, to follow me.With assuranceWith manly courageBass. Where'er, I fear not. [ Exeunt.SCENE II.1-A State-room in the Palace.A flourish. Enter EUPHRANEA, led by GRONEAS andHEMOPHIL; PROPHILUS, led by CHRISTALLA andPHILEMA; NEARCHUS supporting CALANTHA; CROTOLON and AMELUS.Cal. We miss our servant Ithocles and Orgilus;On whom attend they?Crot. My son, gracious princess,Whispered some new device, to which these revelsShould be but usher: wherein I conceiveLord Ithocles and he himself are actors.Cal. A fair excuse for absence: as for Bassanes,Delights to him are troublesome: ArmostesIs with the king?Crot. He is.1 Hazlitt pointed out that this scene was suggested by the mask scene in Marston's Malcontent.SCENE II . ] THE BROKEN HEART. 271Cal. On to the dance!-Dear cousin, hand you the bride; the bridegroommust beIntrusted to my courtship. Be not jealous,Euphranea; I shall scarcely prove a temptress.-Fall to our dance.THE REVEls.Music. NEARCHUS dances with EUPHRANEA, Prophiluswith CALANTHA, CHRISTALLA with HEMOPHIil, PhiLEMA with GRONEAS.They dance the first change; during which ARMOSTES entersArm. [ Whispers CALANTHA] The king your father'sdead.Cal. To the other change.Arm. Is't possible?They dance the second change.Enter BASSANES.Penthea, poor Penthea's starved.Bass. [Whispers CALANTHA] O,madam!Cal. Beshrew thee!--Bass. Amazement dulls my senses.Lead to the next.They dance the third change.Enter ORGILUS.Org. [Whispers CALANTHA] Brave Ithocles is murdered, murdered cruelly.Cal. How dull this music sounds! Strike up moresprightly;Our footings are not active like our heart,Which treads the nimbler measure.Org.I am thunderstruck.The last change.272 THE BROKEN HEART. [ACT V.Cal. So let us breathe awhile. [Music ceases. ]—Hath not this motionRaised fresher colour on our cheeks?Near.A perfect purity of blood enamelsThe beauty of your white.Cal.Sweet princess ,We all look cheerfully:And, cousin, ' tis methinks a rare presumptionIn any who prefer our lawful pleasuresBefore their own sour censure, t' interruptThe custom of this ceremony bluntly.Near. None dares, lady.Cal. Yes, yes; some hollow voice delivered to meHow that the king was dead.Arm.The king is dead:That fatal news was mine; for in mine armsHe breathed his last, and with his crown bequeathedyeYour mother's wedding-ring; which here I tender.Crot. Most strange!Cal. Peace crown his ashes! We are queen, then.Near. Long live Calantha! Sparta's sovereign queen!All. Long live the queen!Cal.Bass. That my Penthea, miserable soul,Was starved to death.Cal.What whispered Bassanes?She's happy; she hath finished.A long and painful progress. -A third murmurPierced mine unwilling ears.Org.That IthoclesWas murdered; -rather butchered, had not braveryOf an undaunted spirit, conquering terror,Proclaimed his last act triumph over ruin.Arm. How! murdered!Cal.Org.By whose hand?By mine; this weaponWas instrument to my revenge: the reasons/ SCENE 11. ] THE BROKEN HEART.273Are just, and known; quit him of these, and thenNever lived gentleman of greater merit,Hope or abiliment to steer a kingdom.Crot. Fie, Orgilus!Euph.Cal.Fie, brother!You have done it?Bass. How it was done let him report, the forfeitOf whose allegiance to our laws doth covetRigour ofjustice; but that done it isMine eyes have been an evidence of creditToo sure to be convinced.¹ Armostes, rend notThine arteries with hearing the bare circ*mstancesOf these calamities; thou'st lost a nephew,A niece, and I a wife: continue man still;Make me the pattern of digesting evils,Who can outlive my mighty ones, not shrinkingAt such a pressure as would sink a soulInto what's most of death, the worst of horrors.But I have sealed a covenant with sadness,And entered into bonds without condition,To stand these tempests calmly; mark me, nobles,I do not shed a tear, not for Penthea!Excellent misery!Cal. We begin our reignWith a first act of justice: thy confession ,Unhappy Orgilus, dooms thee a sentence;But yet thy father's or thy sister's presenceShall be excused. -Give, Crotolon, a blessingTo thy lost son; -Euphranea, take a farewell; -And both be gone.Crot. [ To ORGILUS. ] Confirm thee noble sorrowIn worthy resolution!Euph.My griefs were slight.Org.Could my tears speak,All goodness dwell amongst ye!1 i.e. Confuted.Ford.T274 THE BROKEN HEART. [ACT V.Enjoy my sister, Prophilus: my vengeanceAimed never at thy prejudice.Cal. Now withdraw.[ Exeunt CROTOLON, PROPHILUS, and EUPHRANEA.Bloody relater of thy stains in blood,For that thou hast reported him, whose fortunesAnd life by thee are both at once snatched from him,With honourable mention, make thy choiceOf what death likes thee best; there's all our bounty.—But to excuse delays, let me, dear cousin,Intreat you and these lords see executionInstant before ye part.Near. Your will commands usOrg. One suit, just queen, my last: vouchsafe yourclemency,That by no common hand I be dividedFrom this my humblefrailty.Cal.Who are to be spectators of thine endTo their wisdomsI make the reference: those that are deadAre dead; had they not now died , of necessityThey must have paid the debt they owed to natureOne time or other. -Use dispatch, my lords;We'll suddenly prepare our coronation.[Exeunt CALANTHA, PHILEMA, and CHRISTALLA.Arm. 'Tis strange these tragedies should never touchonHer female pity.Bass. She has a masculine spirit;And wherefore should I pule, and, like a girl,Put finger in the eye? let's be all toughness,Without distinction betwixt sex and sex.Near. Now, Orgilus, thy choice?Org.Arm. The executioner?Org.To bleed to death.Myself, no surgeon;I am well skilled in letting blood. Bind fastSCENE II.] THE BROKEN HEART. 275This arm, that so the pipes may from their conduitsConvey a full stream; here's a skilful instrument:Only I am a beggar to some charityTo speed me in this execution[ Shows his daggerBy lending th' other prick to the tother arm,When this is bubbling life out.Bass.It most concerns my art, my care, my credit.-Quick fillet both his arms.Org.I am for ye;Grammercy, friendship![ They give him a staff. ]Such courtesies are real which flow cheerfullyWithout an expectation of requital .Reach me a staff in this hand.-If a pronenessOr custom in my nature from my cradieHad been inclined to fierce and eager bloodshed,A coward guilt, hid in a coward quaking,Would have betrayed me to ignoble flightAnd vagabond pursuit of dreadful safety:But look upon my steadiness, and scorn notThe sickness of my fortune, which since BassanesWas husband to Penthea had lain bed- rid.We trifle time in words:-thus I show cunningIn opening of a vein too full, too lively.Arm. Desperate courage!Near.[Pierces the vein with his dagger.Honourable infamy!Would I were loose!Hem. I tremble at the sight.Gro.Bass. It sparkles like a lusty wine new broached;The vessel must be sound from which it issues.-Grasp hard this other stick-I'll be as nimbleBut prithee, look not pale-have at ye! stretch out1 In performing the operation of bleeding, formerly so common,the arm was bound above the spot selected in order to distend the veins . For the same reason the patient grasped a staff.276 THE BROKEN HEART. [ACT V.[Opens the vein .Thine arm with vigour and with unshook virtue.Good! O, I envy not a rival, fittedTo conquer in extremities: this pastimeAppears majestical; some high- tuned poemHereafter shall deliver to posterityThe writer's glory and his subject's triumph.How is't, man?-droop not yet.Org. I feel no palsies.On a pair-royal do I wait in death;My sovereign, as his liegeman; on my mistress,As a devoted servant; and on Ithocles,As if no brave, yet no unworthy enemy:Nor did I use an engine to entrapHis life, out of a slavish fear to combat 1Youth, strength, or cunning; but for that I durst notEngage the goodness of a cause on fortune,By which his name might have outfaced my vengeance.O, Tecnicus, inspired with Phoebus' fire!I call to mind thy augury, ' twas perfect;"Revenge proves its own executioner. "When feeble man is bending to his mother,The dust he was first framed on, thus he totters.Bass. Life's fountain is dried up.Org.So falls the standardOf my prerogative in being a creature!A mist hangs o'er mine eyes, the sun's bright splendourIs clouded in an everlasting shadow;Welcome, thou ice, that sitt'st about my heartNo heat can ever thaw thee.Near. Speech hath left him.[Dies.Bass. He has shook hands with time; his funeral urnShall be my charge: remove the bloodless body.The coronation must require attendance;That past, my few days can be but one mourning.1 Skill.[Exeunt.SCENE III. ] THE BROKEN HEART. 2771SCENE III.--A Temple.An altar covered with white; two lights of virgin wax uponit. Recorders¹ play, during which enter Attendantsbearing ITHOCLES on a hearse (in a rich robe, with acrown on his head) and place him on one side of thealtar. Afterwards enter CALANTHA in white, crowned,attended by EUPHRANEA, PHILEMA, and CHRISTALLA,also in white; NEARCHUS, ARMOSTES, CRotolon,PROPHILUS, AMELUS, BASSANES, HEMEPHIL, andGRONEAS.CALANTHA kneels before the altar, the Ladies kneelingbehind her, the rest stand off. The recorders ceaseduring her devotions. Soft music. CALANTHA andthe rest rise, doing obeisance to the altar.Cal. Our orisons are heard; the gods are merciful.—Now tell me, you whose loyalties pay tributeTo us your lawful sovereign, how unskilfulYour duties or obedience is to renderSubjection to the sceptre of a virgin,Who have been ever fortunate in princesOf masculine and stirring composition.A woman has enough to govern wiselyHer own demeanours, passions, and divisions.A nation warlike and inured to practiceOf policy and labour cannot brookAfeminate authority: we thereforeCommand your counsel, how you may advise usIn choosing of a husband, whose abilitiesCan better guide this kingdom.Near.Your law is in your will.Arm .Royal lady,We have seen tokensOf constancy too lately to mistrust it .Crot. Yet, if your highness settle on a choiceBy your own judgment both allowed and liked of,1 A kind of flutes or flageolets.278 THE BROKEN HEART [ACT V. .1Sparta may grow in power, and proceedTo an increasing height.Cal. Hold you the same mind?Bass. Alas, great mistress, reason is so cloudedWith the thick darkness of my infinite woes,That I forecast nor dangers, hopes, or safety.Give me some corner of the world to wear outThe remnant of the minutes I must number,Where I may hear no sounds but sad complaintsOf virgins who have lost contracted partners;Of husbands howling that their wives were ravishedBy some untimely fate; of friends dividedBy churlish opposition; or of fathersWeeping upon their children's slaughter'd carcases;Or daughters groaning o'er their fathers ' hearses;And I can dwell there, and with these keep consortAs musical as theirs. What can you look forFrom an old, foolish, peevish, doting manBut craziness of age?Cal. Cousin of Argos, -Near.Cal.Madam?Were I presentlyTo choose you for my lord, I'll open freelyWhat articles I would propose to treat onBefore our marriage.Near.Name them, virtuous lady.Cal. I would presume you would retain the royaltyOf Sparta in her own bounds; then in ArgosArmostes might be viceroy; in MesseneMight Crotolon bear sway; and BassanesBass. I, queen! alas, what I?Cal.Be Sparta's marshal:The multitudes of high employments could notBut set a peace to private griefs. These gentlemen,Groneas and Hemophil, with worthy pensions,Should wait upon your person in your chamber.-I would bestow Christalla on Amelus,-SCENE III. ] THE BROKEN HEART. 279She'll prove a constant wife; and PhilemaShould into Vesta's Temple.Bass. This is a testament!It sounds not like conditions on a marriage.Near. All this should be performed.Cal.Lastly, for Prophilus,He should be, cousin, solemnly investedIn all those honours, titles, and prefermentsWhich his dear friend and my neglected husbandToo short a time enjoyed.Pro. I am unworthyExcellent lady!To live in your remembrance.Euph.Near. Madam, what means that word, " neglected husband "?Cal. Forgive me:-now I turn to thee, thou shadowOf my contracted lord! Bear witness all,I put my mother's wedding- ring uponHis finger; ' twas my father's last bequest.[Places a ring on the finger of ITHOCLES.Thus I new-marry him whose wife I am;Death shall not separate us. O, my lords,I but deceived your eyes with antic gesture,When one news straight came huddling on anotherOf death! and death! and death! still I danced forward;But it struck home, and here, and in an instant.Be such mere women, who with shrieks and outcriesCan vow a present end to all their sorrows,Yet live to court new pleasures, and outlive them:They are the silent griefs which cut the heart- strings;Let me die smiling.Near. 'Tis a truth too ominous.Cal. One kiss on these cold lips, my last! [KissesITHOCLES. ] -Crack, crack!-Argos now's Sparta's king. -Command the voices.Which wait at the altar now to sing the songI fitted for my end.280 THE BROKEN HEART. [ACT V.Near.Chor.Sirs, the song!DIRGE.Glories, pleasures, pomps, delights, and ease,Can but pleaseThe outward senses, when the mindIs or untroubled or by peace refined.I 1st. Voice. Crowns may flourish and decay,Beauties shine, but fade away.2nd Voice. Youth may revel, yet it mustLie down in a bed of dust.3rd Voice. Earthly honours flow and waste,Time alone doth change and last.Sorrows mingled with contents prepareRest far care;Chor.Love only reigns in death; though artCan find no comfort for a broken heart.[ CALANTHA dies.Arm. Look to the queen!Her heart is broke indeed. Bass.O, royal maid, would thou hadst missed this part!Yet 'twas a brave one. I must weep to seeHer smile in death.Arm. Wise Tecnicus! thus said he;"When youth is ripe, and age from time doth part,The Lifeless Trunk shall wed the Broken Heart. "'Tis here fulfilled .Near.All.I am your king.Long liveHer last will Nearchus, King of Sparta!Near.Shall never be digressed from: wait in orderUpon these faithful lovers, as becomes us.--The counsels of the gods are never knownTill men can call the effects of them their own. [Exeunt.THE BROKEN HEART. 281EPILOGUE.WHERE noble judgments and clear eyes are fixed To grace endeavour, there.sits truth, not mixedWith ignorance; those censures may commandBelief which talk not till they understand.Let some say, " This was flat; " some, "Here the sceneFell from its height; " another, " That the meanWas ill observed in such a growing passionAs it transcended either state or fashion: "Some few may cry, "'Twas pretty well, " or so," But--" and there shrug in silence: yet we knowOur writer's aim was in the whole addrestWell to deserve of all, but please the best;Which granted, by the allowance of this strainThe BROKEN HEART may be pieced- up again.8&

LOVE'S SACRIFICE.OVE'S SACRIFICE was acted at thePhoenix in Drury Lane, and published in1633 , as “ a tragedy received generallywell." The source of the story is unknown.The passages in which D'Avolos excitesthe jealousy of the Duke were evidently suggested by Othello. The words inwhich D'Avolos bids farewell to hisjudges resemble, as Ward points out, those of Marinelli in Lessing's Emilia Galotti.To my Friend, Master John Ford.Unto this altar, rich with thy own spice,I bring one grain to thy LOVE'S SACRIFICE;And boast to see thy flames ascending, whilePerfumes enrich our air from thy sweet pile .Look here, thou that hast malice to the stage,And impudence enough for the whole age;"Voluminously "-ignorant, be vextTo read this tragedy, and thy own be next.JAMES SHIRLEY.Thou cheat'st us, Ford: mak'st one seem two by art:What is Love's Sacrifice but the Broken Heart?RICHARD CRASHAW.¹1 This appeared in Crashaw's Delights of the Muses ( 1646) . It is interesting to note the evident regard which the religious poet ard mystic felt for the dramatist.To my Truest Friend, my Worthiest Kinsman,JOHN FORD, OF GRAY'S INN, ESQ.HE title of this little work, my good cousin,is in sense but the argument of a dedication; which being in most writers acustom, in many a compliment, I questionnot but your clear knowledge of my intents will, in me, read as the earnest of affection . My ambition herein aims at a fairflight, borne up on the double wings of gratitude for a received, and acknowledgment for a continued love. It is not so frequent to numbermany kinsmen, and amongst them some friends, as to presume on some friends, and amongst them little friendship .But in every fulness of these particulars I do not morepartake through you, my cousin, the delight than enjoy the benefit of them. This inscription to your name is only afaithful deliverance to memory of the truth of my respectsto virtue, and to the equal in honour with virtue, desert.The contempt thrown on studies of this kind by such asdote on their own singularity ' hath almost so outfaced invention and proscribed judgment, that it is more safe, morewise, to be suspectedly silent than modestly confident ofopinion herein. Let me be bold to tell the severity of censurers how willingly I neglect their practice , so long as Idigress from no becoming thankfulness. Accept, then, my cousin, this witness to posterity of my constancy to yourmerits; for no ties of blood, no engagements of friendship,shall more justly live a precedent than the sincerity of both in the heart ofJOHN FORD.1 Here is an allusion to Prynne, also referred to by Shirley in theverses prefixed to this play. Plynne had just produced his Histrio- mastix, or Actor's Tragedy, and was at this time before the Star- Chamber for a supposed insult to the Queen by his reflection on women-players . A few days before Histriomastix appeared the Queen and her ladies had acted in a pastoral at Whitehall.DRAMATIS PERSONE.PHILIPPO CARAFFA, Duke of Pavia.PAULO BAGLIONE, Uncle of the duch*ess.FERNANDO, Favourite of the Duke.FERENTES, a wanton Courtier.ROSEILLI, a young Nobleman.PETRUCHIO,two Counsellors of State.NIBRASSA,RODERICO D'AVOLOS, Secretary to the Duke.MAURUCCIO, an old Buffoon.GIACOPO, Servant to Mauruccio.Abbot of Monaco.Courtiers, Officers , Friars, Attendants , &c .BIANCA, the duch*ess.FIORMONDA, the Duke's Sister.COLONA, Daughter of Petruchio.JULIA, Daughter of Nibrassa.MORONA, a Widow.SCENE- PAVIA.LOVE'S SACRIFICE.1ACT THE FIRST.SCENE I.A Room in the Palace.Enter ROSEILLI and RODERICO D'AVOLOS.ROS. Depart the court?D'Av. Such was the duke's command.Ros. You're secretary to the stateand him, [honest.Great in his counsels, wise, and, I think,Have you, in turning over old records,Read but one name descended of the houseOf Lesui in his loyalty remiss?D'Av. Never, my lord.Ros. Why, then, should I now, now when gloriouspeaceTriumphs in change of pleasures, be wiped off,Like to a useless moth, from courtly ease?-And whither must I go?D'Av. You have the open world before you.Ros. Why, then ' tis like I'm banished?D'Av. Not so: my warrant is only to command youfrom the court; within five hours to depart after noticetaken, and not to live within thirty miles of it, until it bethought meet by his excellence to call you back. Now288 LOVE'S SACRIFICE. [ACT I.I have warned you, my lord, at your peril be it, if youdisobey. I shall inform the duke of your discontent.Ros. Do, politician, do! I scent the plotOf this disgrace; ' tis Fiormonda, she,That glorious widow, whose commanding checkRuins my love like foolish beasts, thus theyFind danger that prey too near the lions' den.Enter FERNANDO and PETRUCHIO.Fern. My noble lord , Roseilli!Ros. Sir, the joyI should have welcomed you with is wrapt upIn clouds of my disgrace; yet, honoured sir,Howsoe'er frowns of great ones cast me down,My service shall pay tribute in my lownessTo your uprising virtues.Fern. Sir, I knowYou are so well acquainted with your own,You need not flatter mine: trust me, my lord,I'll be a suitor for you.Pet.And I'll secondMy nephew's suit with importunity.Ros. You are, my Lord Fernando, late returnedFrom travels; pray instruct me: -since the voiceOf most supreme authority commandsMy absence, I determine to bestowSome time in learning languages abroad;Perhaps the change of air may change in meRemembrance of my wrongs at home: good sir,Inform me; say I meant to live in Spain,What benefit of knowledge might I treasure?Fern. Troth, sir, I'll freely speak as I have found.In Spain you lose experience; ' tis a climate.1Too hot to nourish arts; the nation proud,[Exit.1 It was the age of Velasquez and Calderon, but Spain was notpopular in England at this period . Ford was probably indebted in part to Howell for this description.3SCENE 1. ] LOVE'S SACRIFICE.289And in their pride unsociable; the courtMore pliable to glorify itselfThan do a stranger grace: if you intendTo traffic like a merchant, ' twere a placeMight better much your trade; but as for me,I soon took surfeit on it.Ros. What for France?Fern. France I more praise and love.lord,You are, myYourself for horsemanship much famed; and thereYou shall have many proofs to show your skill.¹The French are passing courtly, ripe of wit,Kind, but extreme dissemblers; you shall haveA Frenchman ducking lower than your knee,At the instant mocking even your very shoe- ties.To give the country due, it is on earthA paradise; and if you can neglectYour own appropriaments, but praising thatIn others wherein you excel yourself,You shall be much beloved there.Ros. Yet methoughtI heard you and the duch*ess, two night since,Discoursing of an island thereabouts,Called-let me think-'twasFern.Ros.England?That: pray, sirYou have been there, methought I heard you praiseit.Fern. I'll tell you what I found there; men as neat,As courtly as the French, but in condition 2Quite opposite. Put case that you, my lord ,Could be more rare on horseback than you are,1 It seems that about this period the English were surpassed by most nations in this noble art: nor was it till James I. wisely en- couraged horse- races, that we thought of improving the old, heavy,short-winded breed of horses, by the introduction of Barbary and other stallions .-Gifford.2 Disposition.Ford.290 [ACT I. LOVE'S SACRIFICE.If there as there are many-one excelledYou in your art as much as you do others,Yet will the English think their own is nothingCompared with you, a stranger; in their habitsThey are not more fantastic than uncertain;In short, their fair abundance, manhood, beauty,No nation can disparage but itself.Ros. My lord, you have much eased me; I resolve.Fern. And whither are you bent?Ros.To speed or England.Fern.My lord, for travel;No, my lord, you must not:I have yet some private conferenceT'impart unto you for your good; at nightI'll meet you at my Lord Petruchio's house:Till then be secret.Ros. Dares my cousin trust me?Pet. Dare I, my lord! yes, 'less yourThan a bold woman's spleen.Ross.fact were greaterThe duke's at hand,And I must hence: my service to your lordships. [Exit.Pet. Now, nephew, as I told you, since the dukeHath held the reins of state in his own hand,Much altered from the man he was before, -As if he were transformed in his mind, ¹To soothe him in his pleasures, amongst whomIs fond Ferentes; one whose pride takes prideIn nothing more than to delight his lust;And he with grief I speak it- hath, I fear,Too much besotted my unhappy daughter,My poor Colona; whom, for kindred's sake,As you are noble, as you honour virtue,Persuade to love herself: a word from youMay win her more than my entreaties or frowns.1 One or more lines, the purport of which may easily be gathered,have dropped out here.SCENE I. ] LOVE'S SACRIFICE. 291Fern. Uncle, I'll do my best: meantime, pray tellme,Whose mediation wrought the marriageBetwixt the duke and duch*ess, --who was agent.Pet. His roving eye and her enchanting face,The only dower nature had ordainedT' advance her to her bride-bed. She was daughterUnto a gentleman of Milán-no betterPreferred to serve i' the Duke of Milan's court;Where for her beauty she was greatly famed:And passing late from thence to Monaco.To visit there her uncle, Paul BaglioneThe Abbot, Fortune-queen to such blind matches—Presents her to the duke's eye, on the way,As he pursues the deer: in short, my lord,He saw her, loved her, wooed her, won her, matchedher;No counsel could divert him.Fern. She is fair.Pet. She is; and, to speak truth, I think right nobleIn her conditions.¹Fern. If, when I should choose,Beauty and virtue were the fee proposed,I should not pass for parentage.Pet.Doth come.The dukeFern. Let's break-off talk. [Aside] If ever, now,Good angel of my soul, protect my truth!Enter the Duke, BIANCA, FIORMONDA, NIBRASSA,FERENTES, JULIA, and D'AVOLOS.Duke. Come, my Bianca, revel in mine arms;Whiles I, wrapt in my admiration, viewLilies and roses growing in thy cheeks.-Fernando! O, thou half myself! no joyCould make my pleasure full without thy presence:1 Disposition, 2 i.e. Care.41292 LOVE'SSACRIFICE.[ACT I.I am a monarch of felicity,Proud in a pair of jewels, rich and beautiful, -A perfect friend, a wife above compare.Fern. Sir, if a man so low in rank may hope,By loyal duty and devoted zeal,To hold a correspondency in friendshipWith one so mighty as the Duke of Pavy, 'My uttermost ambition is to climbTo those deserts may give the style of servant.Duke. Of partner in my dukedom, in my heart,As freely as the privilege of bloodHath made them mine; Philippo and FernandoShall be without distinction. -Look, Bianca,On this good man; in all respects to himBe as to me: only the name of husband,And reverent observance of our bed,Shall differ us in person, else in soulWe are all one.Bian. I shall, in best of love,Regard the bosom-partner of my lord.Fior. [Aside to FERENTES] Ferentes, -Feren. [Aside to FIORMONDA]Madam?Fior. [Aside to FERENTES] You are one loves courtshipHe hath some change of words, ' twere no lost labourTo stuff your table-books; the man speaks wisely!Feren. [ Aside to FIORMONDA] I'm glad your highnessis so pleasant.Duke.Fior. My lord and brother?Duke.Sister, -You are too silent,Quicken your sad remembrance, though the lossOf your dead husband be of more accountThan slight neglect, yet ' tis a sin againstThe state of princes to exceed a meanIn mourning for the dead.Pavia.2 i.e. He is a ready talker.3 Memorandum book.4 Enliven.SCENE I. ] 293 LOVE'S SACRIFICE.Fior. Should form, my lord,Prevail above affection? no, it cannot.You have yourself here a right noble duch*ess,Virtuous at least; and should your grace now pay—Which Heaven forbid! —the debt you owe to nature,I dare presume she'd not so soon forgetA prince that thus advanced her. -Madam, couldyou?D'Av. [Aside] Bitter and shrewd.Bian. Sister, I should too much bewray my weakness,To give a resolution on a passionI never felt nor feared.Nib. Amodest answer.Fern. If credit may be given to a face,My lord, I'll undertake on her behalf;Her words are trusty heralds to her mind.Fior. [Aside to D'AVOLOS] Exceeding good; the manwill " undertake "!Observe it, D'Avolos.D'Av. [Aside to FIORMONDA] Lady, I do;'Tis a smooth praise.Duke. Friend; in thy judgment I approve thy love,And love thee better for thy judging mine.Though my gray-headed senate in the lawsOf strict opinion and severe disputeWould tie the limits of our free affects, '-Like superstitious Jews, --to match with noneBut in a tribe of princes like ourselves,Gross-nurtured slaves, who force their wretched soulsTo crouch to profit; nay, for trash and wealthDote on some crooked or misshapen form;Hugging wise nature's lame deformity,Begetting creatures ugly as themselves:-But why should princes do so, that commandThe storehouse of the earth's hid minerals?—No, my Bianca, thou'rt to me as dear1 i.e. Affections.294 LOVE'S SACRIFICE. EACT I.As if thy portion had been Europe's riches;Since in thine eyes lies more than these are worth.Set on; they shall be strangers to my heartThat envy thee thy fortunes. -Come, Fernando,My but divided self; what we have doneWe are only debtor to Heaven for.--On!Fior. [Aside to D'AVOLOS. ] Now take thy time, ornever, D'Avolos;Prevail, and I will raise thee high in grace.D'Av. [Aside to FIORMONDA. ] Madam, I will omit noart.[ Exeunt all but D'AVOLOS, who recalls FERNANDO,My honoured Lord Fernando!Fern. To me, sir?D'Av. Let me beseech your lordship to excuse me, inthe nobleness of your wisdom, if I exceed good manners:I am one, my lord, who in the admiration of your perfectvirtues do so truly honour and reverence your deserts,that there is not a creature bears life shall more faithfullystudy to do you service in all offices of duty and vows ofdue respect.Fern. Good sir, you bind me to you: is this all?D'Av. I beseech your ear a little; good my lord, whatI have to speak concerns your reputation and bestfortune.Fern. How's that! my reputation? lay asideSuperfluous ceremony; speak; what is't?D'Av. I do repute myself the blessedest man alive,that I shall be the first gives your lordship news of yourperpetual comfort.Fern. As how?D'Av. If singular beauty, unimitable virtues, honour,youth, and absolute goodness be a fortune, all those areat once offered to your particular choice.Fern. Without delays, which way?D'Av. The great and gracious Lady Fiormonda lovesyou, infinitely loves you. But, my lord, as ever youSCENE I. ] LOVE'S SACRIFICE. 295tendered a servant to your pleasures, let me not be revealed that I gave you notice on't.Fern. Sure, you are strangely out of tune, sir.D'Av. Please but to speak to her; be but courtlyceremonious with her, use once but the language of affection, if I misreport aught besides my knowledge, let menever have place in your good opinion. O, these women,my lord, are as brittle metal as your glasses, as smooth,as slippery, their very first substance was quicksands: ¹let ' em look never so demurely, one fillip chokes them.My lord, she loves you; I know it. —But I beseech yourlordship not to discover me; I would not for the worldshe should that you know it by me.-Fern. I understand you, and to thank your careWill study to requite it; and I vowShe never shall have notice of your newsBy me or by my means. And, worthy sir,Let me alike enjoin you not to speakA word of that I understand her love;And as for me, my word shall be your suretyI'll not as much as give her cause to thinkI ever heard it.D'Av. Nay, my lord, whatsoever I infer, you maybreak with her in it, if you please; for, rather than silenceshould hinder you one step to such a fortune, I willexpose myself to any rebuke for your sake, my good lord.Fern. You shall not indeed, sir; I am still your friend,and will prove so. For the present I am forced to attendthe duke: good hours befall ye! I must leave you. [Exit.D'Av. Gone already? ' sfoot, I ha' marred all! this isworse and worse; he's as cold as hemlock. If her highness knows how I have gone to work she'll thank mescurvily a pox of all dull brains! I took the clean con1 In allusion to the traditionary stories of the first discovery of glass by the Phoenician mariners in consequence of their lighting afire on the sand . -Gifford.296 LOVE'S SACRIFICE. [ACT I.trary course. There is a mystery in this slight carelessness of his; I must sift it, and I will find it. Ud's me,fool myself out of my wit! well, I'll choose some fitteropportunity to inveigle him, and till then smooth her upthat he is a man overjoyed with the report. [Exit.SCENE II.- Another Room in the Palace.Enter FERENTES and COLONA.Feren. Madam, by this light I vow myself your servant;only yours, in especially yours. Time, like a turncoat,may order and disorder the outward fashions of ourbodies, but shall never enforce a change on the constancy of my mind. Sweet Colona, fair Colona, youngand sprightful lady, do not let me in the best of my youthlanguish in my earnest affections.Col. Why should you seek, my lord, to purchase gloryBy the disgrace of a silly maid.Feren. That I confess too. I am every way so unworthy of the first-fruits of thy embraces, so far beneaththe riches of thy merit, that it can be no honour to thyfame to rank me in the number of thy servants; yet proveme how true, how firm I will stand to thy pleasures, to thycommand; and, as time shall serve, be ever thine. Now,prithee, dear Colona,---Col. Well, well, my lord, I have no heart of flint;Or if I had, you know by cunning wordsHowto outwear it:-butFeren. But what? do not pity thy own gentleness,"lovely Colona. Shall I? Speak, shall I? -say but ay,and our wishes are made up.Col. How shall I say ay, when my fears say no?Feren. You will not fail to meet me two hours hence,sweet?SCENE II . ] LOVE'S SACRIFICE. 297Col. No;Yes, yes, I would have said: how my tongue trips!Feren. I take that promise and that double " yes " asan assurance of thy faith. In the grove; good sweet,remember; in any case alone, -d'ye mark, love?—notas much as your duch*ess ' little dog; -you'll not forget?-two hours hence-think on't, and miss not: tillthenCol. O, if you should prove false, and love another!Feren. Defy me, then! I'll be all thine, and a servantonly to thee, only to thee. [ Exit COLONA] -Very passinggood! three honest women in our courts here of Italyare enough to discredit a whole nation of that sex . Hethat is not a cuckold or a bastard is a strangely happyman; for a chaste wife , or a mother that never steppedawry, are wonders, wonders in Italy. ' Slife! I have got.the feat on't, and am every day more active in my trade:' tis a sweet sin, this slip of mortality, and I have tastedenough for one passion of my senses.-- Here comes more work for me.Enter JULIA.And how does my own Julia? Mew upon this sadness!what's the matter you are melancholy?-Whither away,wench?Jul. 'Tis well; the time has been when your smoothtongueWould not have mocked my griefs; and had I beenMore chary of mine honour, you had stillBeen lowly as you were.Feren. Lowly! why, I am sure I cannot be muchmore lowly than I am to thee; thou bringest me on mybare knees, wench, twice in every four- and-twenty hours,besides half-turns instead of bevers.¹ What must we nextdo, sweetheart?Jul. Break vows on your side; I expect no other,¹ A slight repast, usually between breakfast and dinner.298 LOVE'S SACRIFICE. [ACT I.But every day look when some newer choiceMay violate your honour and my trust.Feren. Indeed, forsooth! how say ye by that, la? Ihope I neglect no opportunity to your nunquam satis, tobe called in question for. Go, thou art as fretting as anold grogram: ¹ by this hand, I love thee for't; it becomesthee so prettily to be angry. Well, if thou shouldst die,farewell all love with me for ever! go; I'll meet theesoon in thy lady's back-lobby, I will, wench; look forme.Jul. But shall I be resolved 2 you will be mine?Feren. All thine; I will reserve my best ability, myheart, my honour only to thee, only to thee. Pity of myblood, away! I hear company coming on: remember,soon I am all thine, I will live perpetually only to thee:away! [Exit JULIA] ' Sfoot! I wonder about what time.of the year I was begot; sure, it was when the moon wasin conjunction, and all the other planets drunk at amorris-dance: I am haunted above patience; my mindis not as infinite to do as my occasions are proffered ofdoing. Chastity! I am an eunuch if I think there be anysuch thing; or if there be, ' tis amongst us men, for Inever found it in a woman thoroughly tempted yet. Ihave a shrewd hard task coming on; but let it pass.-Who comes now? My lord, the duke's friend!strive to be inward with him.Enter FERNANDO.My noble Lord Fernando! --I willFern. My Lord Ferentes, I should change some wordsOf consequence with you; but since I am,For this time, busied in more serious thoughts,I'll pick some fitter opportunity.Feren. I will wait your pleasure, my lord . Good-dayto your lordship. [ Exit.1 A coarse kind of silk taffety, usually stiffened with gum, andeasily losing its gloss .2 Assured.SCENE II . ] LOVE'S SACRIFICE. 299Fern. Traitor to friendship, whither shall I run,That, lost to reason, cannot sway the floatOf the unruly faction in my blood?The duch*ess, O, the duch*ess! in her smilesAre all my joys abstracted. -Death to my thoughts!My other plague comes to me.Enter FIORMONDA and JULIA.Fior. My Lord Fernando, what, so hard at study!You are a kind companion to yourself,That love to be alone so.Fern. Madam, no;I rather chose this leisure to admireThe glories of this little world, the court,Where, like so many stars, on several thronesBeauty and greatness shine in proper orbs;Sweet matter for my meditation.Fior. So, so, sir! -Leave us, Julia [ Exit JULIA]-yourown proof,By travel and prompt observation,Instructs you how to place the use of speech.-But since you are at leisure, pray let's sit:We'll pass the time a little in discourse.What have you seen abroad?Fern.Like these I see at home.Fior.No wonders, lady,At home! as how?Fern. Your pardon, if my tongue, the voice of truth,Report but what is warranted by sight.Fior. What sight?Fern. Look in your glass, and you shall seeA miracle.Fior. What miracle?Fern. Your beauty,So far above all beauties else abroadAs you are in your own superlative.Fior. Fie, fie! your wit hath too much edge.300 [ACT Ì . LOVE'S SACRIFICE.YFern.Or any thing that I could challenge mine,Were but of value to express how muchI serve in love the sister of my prince!Would that,Fior. 'Tis for your prince's sake, then, not formine?Fern. For you in him, and much for him in you.I must acknowledge, madam, I observeIn your affects¹ a thing to me most strange,Which makes me so much honour you the more.Fior. Pray, tell it .Fern. Gladly, lady:I see how opposite to youth and customYou set before you, in the tablatureOf your remembrance, the becoming griefsOf a most loyal lady for the lossOf so renowned a prince as was your lord.Fior. Now, good my lord, no more of him.Fern.I know it is a needless task in meTo set him forth in his deservèd praise;You better can record it; for you findHow much more he exceeded other menIn most heroic virtues of account,So much more was your loss in losing him.Of him! his praise should be a field too large,Too spacious, for so mean an oratorAs I to range in.Fior.Of him!Sir, enough ' tis trueHe well deserved your labour. On his deathbedThis ring he gave me, bade me never partWith this but to the man I loved as dearlyAs I loved him: yet since you know which wayTo blaze his worth so rightly, in returnTo your deserts wear this for him and me.1 Affections.[Offers him the ring.SCENE II . ] LOVE'S SACRIFICE. 301Fern. Madam!Fior.Fern.Not to impart it but to him you loved'Tis yours,Methought you said he charged youTrue, I said so.As dearly as you loved him.Fior.Fern. O, then, far be it myunhallowed handWith any rude intrusion should annulA testament enacted by the dead!Fior. Why, man, that testament is disannulled .And cancelled quite by us that live. Look here,My blood is not yet freezed; for better instance,Be judge yourself; experience is no danger—Cold are my sighs; but, feel, my lips are warm.Fern. What means the virtuous marquess?Fior.[Kisses him.To new- kissThe oath to thee, which whiles he lived was his:Hast thou yet power to love?Fern.Fior.To love!To meetSweetness of language in discourse as sweet?Fern. Madam, ' twere dulness past the ignoranceOf common blockheads not to understandWhereto this favour tends; and ' tis a fortuneSo much above my fate, that I could wishNo greater happiness on earth: but knowLong since I vowed to live a single life.Fior. What was't you said?Fern. I said I made a vow--Enter BIANCA, PETRUCHIO, COLONA, and D'Avolos.[Aside] Blessèd deliverance!Fior. [Aside. ] Prevented? mischief on this interrup tion!Bian. My Lord Fernando, you encounter fitlyI have a suit t'ye.302 LOVE'S SACKRIFICE. [ACT i.Fern.To be commanded.Bian.'Tis my duty, madam,Since my lord the dukeIs now disposed to mirth, the time serves wellFor mediation, that he would be pleasedTo take the Lord Roseilli to his grace.He is a noble gentleman; I dareEngage my credit, loyal to the state; --And, sister, one that ever strove, methought,By special service and obsequious care,To win respect from you: it were a partOf gracious favour, if you pleased to joinWith us in being suitors to the dukeFor his return to court.Fior. To court! indeed,You have some cause to speak; he undertook,Most champion- like, to win the prize at tilt,In honour of your picture; marry, did he.There's not a groom o ' the querry could have matchedThe jolly riding- man: pray, get him back;I do not need his service, madam, I.Bian. Not need it, sister? why, I hope you think'Tis no necessity in me to move it,More than respect of honour.Fior. Honour! puh!Honour is talked of more than known by some.Bian. Sister, these words I understand not.Fern. [Aside. ] Swell not, unruly thoughts! —Madam, the motion you propose proceedsFrom the true touch of goodness; ' tis a pleaWherein my tongue and knee shall jointly striveTo beg his highness for Roseilli's cause.Your judgment rightly speaks him; there is notIn any court of Christendom a manFor quality or trust more absolute.Fior. [Aside. ] How! is't even so?Pet. I shall for ever blessSCENE II . ] LOVE'S SACRIFICE. 303Your highness for your gracious kind esteemOf my disheartened kinsman; and to addEncouragement to what you undertake,I dare affirm ' tis no important faultHath caused the duke's distaste.Bian. I hope so too.D'Av. Let your highness, and you all, my lords, takeadvice how you motion his excellency on Roseilli's behalf; there is more danger in that man than is fit to bepublicly reported. I could wish things were otherwiseor his own sake; but I'll assure ye, you will exceedinglyalter his excellency's disposition he now is in, if you butmention the name of Roseilli to his ear; I am so muchacquainted in the process of his actions.Bian. Ifit be so, I am the sorrier, sir:I'm loth to move my lord unto offence;Yet I'll adventure chiding.Fern. [Aside. ] O, had I India's gold, I'd give it allT'exchange one private word, one minute's breath,With this heart-wounding beauty!Enter the Duke, FERENTES, and NIBRASSA.Duke. Prithee, no more, Ferentes; by the faithI owe to honour, thou hast made me laughBeside my spleen.'-Fernando, hadst thou heard.The pleasant humour of Mauruccio's dotageDiscoursed, how in the winter of his ageHe is become a lover, thou wouldst swearA morris-dance were but a tragedyCompared to that: well, we will see the youth.-What council hold you now, sirs?Bian. We, my lord,Were talking of the horsemanship in France,Which, as your friend reports, he thinks exceedsAll other nations.1 i.e. Beyond my nature, the spleen being regarded as the sourecof any sudden and violent ebullition.304 LOVE'S SACRIFICE. [ACT 1 .Duke. How! why, have not weAs gallant riders here?Fern. None that I know.Duke. Pish, your affection leads you; I dare wageA thousand ducats, not a man in FranceOutrides Roseilli.Fior. [Aside.] I shall quit this wrong.Bian. I said as much, my lord.Fern.His practice since my coming back.Duke.How is't we see him not?Pet. [Aside. ]I have not seenWhere is he?What's this? what's this?Fern. I hear he was commanded from the court.D'Av. [Aside. ] O, confusion on this villainous occasion!Duke. True; but we meant a day or two at mostShould be his furthest term.Where's D'Avolos?Not yet returned?D'Av. [Advancing. ] My lord?Duke. You know our mind:How comes it thus to pass we miss Roseilli?D'Av. My lord , in a sudden discontent I hear hedeparted towards Benevento, determining, as I am givento understand, to pass to Seville, minding to visit hiscousin, Don Pedro de Toledo, in the Spanish court.Duke. The Spanish court! now by the blessèd bonesOf good Saint Francis, let there posts be sentTo call him back, or I will post thy headBeneath my foot: ha, you! you know my mind;Look that you get him back: the Spanish court!And without our commission!--Pet. [Aside.] Here's fine juggling!Bian. Good sir, be not so moved.Duke.'Tis such a gross indignity; I'd ratherFie, fie, Bianca,SCENE II . ] 305 LOVE'S SACRIFICE.Have lost seven years' revenue: -the Spanish court!—How now, what ails our sister?Fior.On the suddenI fall a-bleeding; ' tis an ominous sign,Pray Heaven it turn to good! -Your highness ' leave.Duke. Look to her. Come, Fernando,Bianca,-Let's strive to overpass this choleric heat.——[Exit.come,Sirrah, see that you trifle not. [ To D'AVOLOS] -HOWweWho sway the manage of authorityMay be abused by smooth officious agents! —But look well to our sister.Pet.[Exeunt all but PETRUCHIO and FERNANDO.Nephew, please youTo see your friend to-night?Fern. Yes, uncle, yes. [ Exit PETRUCHIO.Thus bodies walk unsouled! mine eyes but followMy heart entombed in yonder goodly shrine:Life without her is but death's subtle snares,And I am but a coffin to my cares. [Exit.Ford.MACT THE SECOND.SCENE I.-A Room in MAURUCCIO's House.MAURUCCIO looking in a glass, trimming his beard;GIACOPO brushing him.AUR. Beard, be confined to neatness,that no hairMGia.Mau.May stover up ' to prick my mistress'lip,More rude than bristles of a porcupine.-Giacopo!My lord?Am I all sweet behind?Gia. I have no poulterer's nose; but your apparelsits about you most debonairly.Mau. But, Giacopo, with what grace do my wordsproceed out of my mouth? Have I a moving countenance? is there harmony in my voice? canst thou perceive, as it were, a handsomeness of shape in my verybreath, as it is formed into syllables, Giacopo?Enter above Duke, BIANCA, FIORMONDA, FERNANDO,Courtiers, and Attendants.Gia. Yes, indeed, sir, I do feel a savour as pleasant as-a glister-pipe [ Aside]-calamus, or civet.Duke. Observe him, and be silent.Mau. Hold thou the glass, Giacopo, and mark mewith what exceeding comeliness I could court the ladymarquess, if it come to the push.1 Bristle up a west country word. 2 Enema syringe,SCENE I. ] LOVE'S SACRIFICE. 307Duke. Sister, you are his aim.Fior.To be the stale of laughter!¹Bian.A subject fitThat's your music.Mau. Thus I reverse my pace, and thus stalking incourtly gait, I advance one, two, and three. -Good! Ikiss my hand, make my congee, settle my countenance,and thus begin. —-Hold up the glass higher, Giacopo.Gia. Thus high, sir?Mau. 'Tis well; now mark me."Most excellent marquéss, most fair la-dy,Let not old age or hairs that are sil- vérDisparage my desire; for it may beI am than other green youth nimblé- er.Since I am your gra- cé's servánt so true,Great lady, then, love me for my vir- tue. "O, Giacopo, Petrarch was a dunce, Dante a jig- maker,Sanazzar a goose, and Ariosto a puck-fist,2 to me!tell thee, Giacopo, I am rapt with fury; and have beenfor these six nights together drunk with the pure liquorof Helicon.Gia. I think no less, sir; for you look as wild, andtalk as idly, as if you had not slept these nine years.Duke. What think you of this language, sister?Fior.I think in princes' courts no age nor greatnessBut must admit the fool; in me ' twere follyTo scorn what greater states than I have been,Bian. O, but you are too generalFior. A fool!I thank your highness: many a woman's witSir,Have thought themselves much better was much worse.Bian. You still mistake me.1 Laughing stock.2 i.e. An empty boaster, from the fungus better known as puff- ball.3 i.e. Persons of state,308LOVE'SSACRIFICE.[ACT II.Duke.Silence! note the rest.Mau. God- a'mercy, brains! Giacopo, I have it.Gia. What, my lord?Mau. A conceit, Giacopo, and a fine one--down onthy knees, Giacopo, and worship my wit. Give me both.thy ears. Thus it is; I will have my picture drawn mostcomposituously, in a square table¹ of some two footlong, from the crown of the head to the waist downward,no further.Gia. Then you'll look like a dwarf, sir, being cut offby the middle.Mau. Speak not thou, but wonder at the conceit thatfollows. In my bosom, on my left side, I will have a leafof blood-red crimson velvet --as it were part of mydoublet-open; which being opened, Giacopo, —nowmark! -- I will have a clear and most transparent crystalin the form of a heart. -Singular- admirable! -When Ihave framed this, I will, as some rare outlandish piece ofworkmanship, bestow it on the most fair and illustriousLady Fiormonda.Gia. But now, sir, for the conceit.Mau. Simplicity and ignorance, prate no more! blockhead, dost not understand yet? Why, this being toher instead of a looking -glass, she shall no oftenerpowder her hair, surfel 2 her cheeks, cleanse her teeth, orconform the hairs of her eyebrows, but having occasionto use this glass -which for the rareness and richness ofit she will hourly do -but she shall as often gaze on mypicture, remember me, and behold the excellence of herexcellency's beauty in the prospective and mirror, as itwere, in my heart.Gia. Ay, marry, sir, this is something.1 The board or canvas on which the picture was to be painted.2 To " surfel " or " surphule " the cheeks is to wash them withmercurial or sulphur water, as it was called, one of those perniciouscompounds which, under the name of cosmetics, found their waytothe ladies' toilets . They were generally rubbed in with Spanishwool or a piece of scarlet cloth. -Gifford.SCENE 1. ] LOVE'S SACRIFICE. 309All above except Fior. Ha, ha, ha! [Exit FIORMONDA.Bian. My sister's gone in anger.Mau. Who's that laughs? search with thine eyes,Giacopo.Gia. O, my lord, my lord, you have gotten an everlasting fame! the duke's grace, and the duch*ess' grace,and my Lord Fernando's grace, with all the rabble ofcourtiers, have heard every word; look where they stand!Now you shall be made a count for your wit, and I lordfor my counsel.Duke. Beshrew the chance! we are discovered.Mau. Pity-O, my wisdom! I must speak to them.—O, duke most great, and most renowned duch*ess!Excuse my apprehension , which not much is;'Tis love, my lord, that's all the hurt you see;Angelica herself doth plead for me.Duke. We pardon you, most wise and learnèd lord;And, that we may all glorify your wit,Entreat your wisdom's company to-dayTo grace our table with your grave discourse:What says your mighty eloquence?Mau. Giacopo, help me; his grace has put me outof my own bias, and I know not what to answer inform .Gia. Ud's me, tell him you'll come.Mau. Yes, I will come, my lord the duke, I will.Duke. We take your word, and wish your honour health.-Away, then! come, Bianca, we have foundA salve for melancholy,-mirth and ease.[Exit the Duke followed by all but BIANCAand FERNANDO.Bian. I'll see the jolly lover and his glassTake leave of one another.Mau. Are they gone?Gia. O, my lord, I do now smell news.Mau. What news, Giacopo?310 LOVE'S SACRIFICE. [ACT II.Gia. The duke has a smackering towards you, and youshall clap-up with his sister the widow suddenly.Mau. She is mine, Giacopo, she is mine! Advancethe glass, Giacopo, that I may practise, as I pass, to walka portly grace like a marquis, to which degree I am nowa- climbing.Thus do we march to honour's haven of bliss,To ride in triumph through Persepolis. '[Exit GIACOPO, going backward with the glass,followed by MAURUCCIO complimenting."Bian. Now, as I live, here's laughterWorthy our presence! I'll not lose him so. [Going.Fern. Madam, -Bian. To me, my lord?Fern. Please but to hearThe story of a castaway in love;And, O, let not the passage of a jestMake slight a sadder subject, who hath placedAll happiness in your diviner eyes!Bian. My lord , the time—Fern. The time! yet hear me speakFor I must speak or burst: I have a soulSo anchored down with cares in seas of woe,That passion and the vows I owe to youHave changed me to a lean anatomy: 3Sweet princess of my life,-Bian. Forbear, or I shall--Fern. Yet, as you honour virtue, do not freezeMy hopes to more discomfort than as yetMy fears suggest; no beauty so adornsThe composition of a well-built mindAs pity: hear me out.Bian. No more! I spareTo tell you what you are, and must confess¹ Mauruccio is here quoting Marlowe's Tamburlaine.2 i.e. Practising the airs of a courtier.3 Skeleton.SCENE II. ] LOVE'S SACRIFICE 311 .Do almost hate my judgment, that it onceThought goodness dwelt in you. Remember now,It is the third time since your treacherous tongueHath pleaded treason to my ear and fame;Yet, for the friendship ' twixt my lord and you,I have not voiced your follies: if you dareTo speak a fourth time, you shall rue your lust;'Tis all no better:-learn and love yourself. [Exit.Fern. Gone! O, my sorrows! how am I undone!Not speak again? no, no, in her chaste breastVirtue and resolution have dischargedAll female weakness: I have sued and sued,Knelt, wept, and begged; but tears and vows andwordsMove her no more than summer-winds a rock.I must resolve to check this rage of blood,And will: she is all icy to my fires,Yet even that ice inflames in me desires. [Exit.SCENE II. -A Room in PETRUCHIO'S House.Enter PETRUCHIO and ROSEILLI.Rose. Is't possible the duke should be so moved?Pet. 'Tis true; you have no enemy at courtBut her for whom you pine so much in love;Then master your affections: I am sorryYou hug your ruin so.—What say you to the project I proposed?Rose. I entertain it with a greater joyThan shame can check.Enter FERNANDO.Pet. You're come as I could wish;My cousin is resolved.312 LOVE'S SACRIFICE. [ACT II .Fern. Without delayPrepare yourself, and meet at court anon,Some half-hour hence; and Cupid bless your joy!Rose. If ever man was bounden to a friend, -—-—Fern. No more; away![Exeunt PETRUCHIO and ROSEILli.Love's rage is yet unknown;In his —ay me! —too well I feel my own!So, now I am alone; now let me think.She is the duch*ess; say she be; a creatureSewed-up in painted cloth might so be styled;That's but a name: she's married too; she is,And therefore better might distinguish love:She's young and fair; why, madam, that's the baitInvites me more to hope: she's the duke's wife;Who knows not this?-she's bosomed to my friend;There, there, I am quite lost: will not be won;Still worse and worse: abhors to hear me speak;Eternal mischief! I must urge no more;For, were I not be- lepered in my soul,Here were enough to quench the flames of hell.What then? pish! if I must not speak, I'll write.Come, then, sad secretary to my plaints,Plead thou my faith, for words are turned to sighs.What says this paper? [Takes out a letter, andreads.Enter D'AVOLOS behind with two pictures.D'Av. [Aside] Now is the time. Alone? reading aletter? good; how now! striking his breast! what, in thename of policy, should this mean? tearing his hair!passion; by all the hopes of my life, plain passion! nowI perceive it. If this be not a fit of some violent affection , I am an ass in understanding; why, ' tis plain, —plainer and plainer; love in the extremest. O, for theparty who, now! The greatness of his spirits is too high.cherished to be caught with some ordinary stuff, and if itbe iny Lady Fiormonda, I am strangely mistook. Well,SCENE II . ] LOVE'S SACRIFICE. 313that I have fit occasion soon to understand. I have heretwo pictures newly drawn, to be sent for a present to theAbbot of Monaco, the duch*ess' uncle, her own and mylady's I'll observe which of these may, perhaps, bewrayhim--he turns about. -My noble lord! ———Fern. You're welcome, sir; I thank you.D'Av. Me, my lord! for what, my lord?Fern. Who's there? I cry you mercy, D'Avolos,I took you for another; pray, excuse me.What is't you bear there?D'Av. No secret, my lord, but may be imparted toyou: a couple of pictures, my good lord , —please you seethem?Fern. I care not much for pictures; but whose arethey?D'Av. The one is for my lord's sister, the other is theduch*ess.Fern. Ha, D'Avolos! the duch*ess's?D'Av. Yes, my lord.--[Aside] Sure, the word startledhim observe that.Fern. You told me, Master Secretary, once,You owed me love.D'Av. Service, my honoured lord; howsoever youplease to term it.Fern. 'Twere rudeness to be suitor for a sight;Yet trust me, sir, I'll be all secret.D'Av. I beseech your lordship; -they are, as I am,constant to your pleasure. [ Shows FIORMONDA's picture. ]This, my lord , is the widow marquess's, as it now newlycame from the picture-drawer's, the oil yet green: a sweetpicture; and, in my judgment, art hath not been a nigg*rdin striving to equal the life. Michael Angelo himselfneeded not blush to own the workmanship.Fern. A very pretty picture; but, kind signior,To whose use is it?D'Av. For the duke's, my lord, who determines tosend it with all speed as a present to Paul Baglione, uncle314 LOVE'S SACRIFICE [ACT II . .to the duch*ess, that he may see the riches of two suchlustres as shine in the court of Pavy.Fern. Pray, sir, the other?D'Av. [ Shows BIANCA'S picture] This, my lord, is forthe duch*ess Bianca: a wondrous sweet picture, if youwell observe with what singularity the artsman hathstrove to set forth each limb in exquisitest proportion, notmissing a hair.Fern. A hair!D'Av. She cannot more formally, or—if it may belawful to use the word-more really, behold her ownsymmetry in her glass than in taking a sensible view ofthis counterfeit. When I first saw it, I verily almost wasof a mind that this was her very lip.Fern. Lip!—D'Av. [Aside] How constantly he dwells upon thisportraiture -Nay, I'll assure your lordship there is nodefect of cunning2-[Aside] His eye is fixed as if it wereincorporated there.- -Were not the party herself alive towitness that there is a creature composed of flesh andblood as naturally enriched with such harmony of admirable beauty as is here artificially counterfeited , a verycurious eye might repute it as an imaginary rapture ofsome transported conceit, to aim at an impossibility;whose very first gaze is of force almost to persuade a substantial love in a settled heart.Fern. Love! heart!D'Av. My honoured lord, -Fern: O Heavens!D'Av. [Aside] I am confirmed.--What ails yourlordship?Fern. You need not praise it, sir; itself is praise.-[Aside] How near had I forgot myself! -I thank you.'Tis such a picture as might well becomeThe shrine of some famed Venus; I am dazzledWith looking on't: -pray, sir, convey it hence.1 Skill.1SCENE II . ] LOVE'S SACRIFICE. 315D'Av. I am all your servant. [Aside] Blessed, blesseddiscovery! --Please you to command me?Fern. No, gentle sir.- [Aside] I'm lost beyond mysenses.D'ye hear, sir? good, where dwells the picture-maker?D'Av. By the castle's farther drawbridge, near Galiazzo's statue; his name is Alphonso Trinultio.-[Aside]Happy above all fate!Fern. You say enough; my thanks t'ye!D'AVOLOS. ] -Were that pictureBut rated at my lordship, ' twere too cheap.I fear I spoke or did I know not what;All sense of providence was in mine eye.[ExitEnter FERENTES, MAURUCCIO, and GIACOPO.Feren. [Aside] Youth in threescore years and ten! —Trust me, my Lord Mauruccio, you are now younger inthe judgment of those that compare your former age withyour latter by seven-and-twenty years than you werethree years ago: by all my fidelity, ' tis a miracle! theladies wonder at you.Mau. Let them wonder; I am wise as I am courtly.Gia. The ladies, my lord, call him the green broomof the court, he sweeps all before him, -and swear hehas a stabbing wit: it is a very glister to laughter.Mau. Nay, I know I can tickle ' em at my pleasure; Iam stiff and strong, Ferentes.Gia. [Aside] A radish- root is a spear of steel in comparison of I know what.Feren. The marquess doth love you.Mau. She doth love me.Feren. And begins to do you infinite grace, Mauruccio,infinite grace.Fern. I'll take this time.-[ Comes forward] Goodhour, my lords, to both!Mau. Right princely Fernando, the best of the Fernandos; by the pith of generation, the man I look for.316LOVE'SSACRIFICE.[ACT II .His highness hath sent to find you out: he is determinedto weather his own proper individual person for twodays' space in my Lord Nibrassa's forest, to hunt thedeer, the buck, the roe, and eke the barren doe.Fern. Is his highness preparing to hunt?Mau. Yes, my lord, and resolved to lie forth for thebreviating the prolixity of some superfluous transmigration of the sun's double cadence to the western horizon,my most perspicuous good lord .Fern. O, sir, let me beseech you to speak in your ownmother tongue.- [Aside] Two days' absence, well. —MyLord Mauruccio, I have a suit t'ye, -Mau. My Lord Fernando, I have a suit to you.Fern. That you will accept from me a very choicetoken of my love: will you grant it?Mau. Will you grant mine?Fern. What is't?Mau. Only to know what the suit is you please toprefer to me.seeFern. Why, 'tis, my lord, a fool.Mau. A fool!Fern. As very a fool as your lordship is-hopeful toin any time of your life.Gia. Now, good my lord, part not with the fool onany terms.Mau. I beseech you, my lord, has the fool qualities?Fern. Very rare ones: you shall not hear him speakone wise word in a month's converse; passing temperateof diet, for, keep him from meat four- and- twenty hours,and he will fast a whole day and a night together; unlessyou urge him to swear, there seldom comes an oath fromhis mouth; and of a fool, my lord, to tell ye the plaintruth, had he but half as much wit as you, my lord, hewould be in short time three- quarters as arrant wise asyour lordship.Mau. Giacopo, these are very rare elements in a creature of little understanding. O, that I long to see him!SCENE II . ] LOVE'S SACRIFICE. 317Fern. A very harmless idiot; —and, as you could wish,look where he comes.Enter PETRUCHIO, and ROSEILLI dressed like a Fool.¹Pet. Nephew, here is the thing you sent for. -Comehither, fool; come, ' tis a good fool.Fern. Here, my lord , I freely give you the fool; prayuse him well for my sake.Mau. I take the fool most thankfully at your hands,my lord. Hast any qualities, my pretty fool? wilt dwellwith me?Ros. A, a, a, a, ay.Pet. I never beheld a more natural creature in mylife.Fern. Uncle, the duke, I hear, prepares to hunt;Let's in and wait. -Farewell, Mauruccio.[ Exeunt FERNANDO and PETRUCHIO.Mau. Beast that I am, not to ask the fool's name! ' tisno matter; fool is a sufficient title to call the greatestlord in the court by, if he be no wiser than he.Gia. O, my lord, what an arrant excellent pretty creature ' tis! -Come, honey, honey, honey, come!Feren. You are beholding to my Lord Fernando forthis gift.Mau. True. O, that he could but speak methodically!-Canst speak, fool?Ros. Can speak; de e e eFeren. 'Tis a present for an emperor. What an excellent instrument were this to purchase a suit or a monopoly from the duke's ear!Mau. I have it, I am wise and fortunate. -Giacopo, Iwill leave all conceits, and instead of my picture, offerthe lady marquess this mortal man of weak brain.Gia. My lord, you have most rarely bethought you;for so shall she no oftener see the fool but she shallremember you better than by a thousand looking-glasses.1 i.e. In the long petticoats with which innocents, or idiots, were:furnished for the sake of decency. -Gifford.318 LOVE'S SACRIFICE [ACT II..<Feren. She will most graciously entertain it.Mau. I may tell you, Ferentes, there's not a greatwoman amongst forty but knows how to make sport witha fool . -Dost know how old thou art, sirrah?Ros. Duda clap cheek for nown sake, gaffer;hee e e e e.Feren. Alas, you must ask him no questions, but claphim on the cheek; I understand his language: your foolis the tender-heartedest creature that is .Enter FIORMONDA and D'AVOLOS in close conversation.Fior. No more; thou hast in this discoveryExceeded all my favours, D'Avolos.Is't Mistress Madam duch*ess? brave revenge!D'Av. But had your grace seen the infinite appetite oflust in the piercing adultery of his eye, you wouldFior. Or change him, or confound him: prompt dissembler!Is here the bond of his religious vow?And that, "now when the duke is rid abroad,My gentleman will stay behind, is sick-or so "?D'Av. "Not altogether in health; " —it was the excusehe made.Mau. [ Seeing them] Most fit opportunity! her gracecomes just i' the nick; let me study.Feren. Lose no time, my lord.Gia. To her, sir.Mau. Vouchsafe to stay thy foot, most Cynthianhue,And from a creature ever vowed thy servantAccept this gift, most rare, most fine, most new;The earnest penny of a love so fervent.Fior. What means the jolly youth?Mau. Nothing, sweet princess, but only to presentyour grace with this sweet-faced fool; please you to accepthim to make you merry: I'll assure your grace he is avery wholesome fool.SCENE II. ] LOVE'S SACRIFICE. 319Fior. A fool! you might as well ha' given yourself.Whence is he?Mau. Now, just very now, given me out of specialfavour bythe Lord Fernando, madam.Fior. By him? well, I accept him; thank you for't:And, in requital, take that toothpicker;'Tis yours.Mau. A toothpicker! I kiss your bounty: no quibblenow?—And, madam,If I grow sick, to make my spirits quicker,I will revive them with this sweet toothpicker.Fior. Make use on't as you list.-- Here D'Avolos,Take in the fool.1D'Av. Come, sweetheart, wilt along with me?Ros. U u umh, —u u mh, —wonnot, wonnot--u u umh.Fior. Wilt go with me, chick?Ros. Will go, te e e- -go will goFior. Come D'Avolos, observe to-night; ' tis late:Or I will win my choice, or curse my fate.[ Exeunt FIORMONDA, ROSEILLI, andD'AVOLOS.Feren. This was wisely done, now. ' Sfoot, you purchase a favour from a creature, my lord, the greatest kingof the earth would be proud of.Mau . Giacopo! —Gia . My lord?Mau. Come behind me, Giacopo: I am big with conceit, and must be delivered of poetry in the eternal commendation of this gracious toothpicker: -but, first, I holdit a most healthy policy to make a slight supper—For meat's the food that must preserve our lives,And now's the time when mortals whet their knives—on thresholds, shoe- soles, cart-wheels, &c. -Away, Giacopo! [Exeunt.320 LOVE'S SACRIFICE. [ACT II.SCENE III .—The Palace. BIANCA'S Apartment.Enter COLONA with lights, BIANCA, FIORMONDA, JULIA,FERNANDO, and D'Avolos; COLONA places the lightson a table, and sets down a chess-board.Bian. 'Tis yet but early night, too soon to sleep:Sister, shall's have a mate at chess?Fior. A mate!No, madam, you are grown too hard for me;My Lord Fernando is a fitter match.Bian. He's a well-practised gamester: well, I care notHow cunning soe'er he be.--To pass an hourI'll try your skill, my lord: reach here the chess- board.D'Av. [Aside] Are you so apt to try his skill, radamduch*ess? Very good!Fern. I shall bewray too much my ignoranceIn striving with your highness; ' tis a gameI lose at still by oversight.Bian.I fear you not; let's to't.Fior.Well, well,You need not, madam.D'Av. [Aside to FIORMONDA] Marry, needs she not;how gladly will she to't! ' tis a rook to a queen sheheaves a pawn to a knight's place; by'r lady, if all betruly noted, to a duke's place; and that's beside theplay, I can tell ye. [FERNANDO and BIANCAplay.Fior. Madam, I must entreat excuse; I feelThe temper of my body not in caseTo judge the strife .Bian. Lights for our sister, sirs!-Good rest t'ye; I'll but end my game and follow.Fior. [Aside to D'AVOLOS] Let ' em have time enough;and, as thou canst,Be near to hear their courtship, D'Avolos.D'Av. [Aside to FIORMONDA] Madam, I shall observe' em with all cunning secrecy.Bian. Colona, attend our sister to her chamber.SCENE III. ] LOVE'S SACRIFICE. 321Col. I shall, madam.[Exit FIORMONDA, followed by COLONA, JULIA,and D'AVOLOS,Bian. Play.Fern. I must not lose the advantage of the game:Madam, your queen is lost.My clergy help me!Bian.My queen! and nothing for it but a pawn?Why, then, the game's lost too: but play.Fern. What, madam?[ FERNANDO often looks about.Bian. You must needs play well, you are so studious.--Fie upon't! you study past patience: -What do you dream on? here is demurringWould weary out a statue! -Good, now, play.VFern. Forgive me; let my knees for ever stickNailed to the ground, as earthy as my fears,Ere I arise, to part away so cursedIn my unbounded anguish as the rageOf flames beyond all utterance of wordsDevour me, lightened by your sacred eyes.Bian. What means the man?Fern.[Kneels.To lay before your feetIn lowest vassalage the bleeding heartThat sighs the tender of a suit disdained.Great lady, pity me, my youth, my wounds;And do not think that I have culled this timeFrom motion's swiftest measure to unclaspThe book of lust: if purity of loveHave residence in virtue's breast, lo here,Bent lower in my heart than on my knee,I beg compassion to a love as chasteAs softness of desire can intimate.Re-enter D'AVOLOS behind.D'Av. [Aside] At it already! admirable haste!Bian. Am I again betrayed? bad man!-Ford.Y322 LOVE'S SACRIFICE. [ACT II.Fern. Keep inBright angel, that severer breath, to coolThat heat of cruelty which sways the templeOf your too stony breast: you cannot urgeOne reason to rebuke my trembling plea,Which I have not with many nights' expenseExamined; but, O, madam, still I findNo physic strong to cure a tortured mind,But freedom from the torture it sustains.D'Av. [Aside] Not kissing yet? still on your knees?O, for a plump bed and clean sheets, to comfort theaching of his shins! We shall have ' em clip¹ anon andlisp kisses; here's ceremony with a vengeance!Bian. Rise up; we charge you, rise! [Herises.Look on our face:What see you there that may persuade a hopeOf lawless love? Know, most unworthy man,So much we hate the baseness of thy lust,As, were none living of thy sex but thee,We had much rather prostitute our bloodTo some envenomed serpent than admitThy bestial dalliance. Couldst thou dare to speakAgain, when we forbade? no, wretched thing,Take this for answer: if thou henceforth opeThy leprous mouth to tempt our ear again,We shall not only certify our lordOf thy disease in friendship, but revengeThy boldness with the forfeit of thy life.Think on't.D'Av. [ Aside] Now, now, now the game is a-foot!your gray jennet with the white face is curried, forsooth;--please your lordship leap up into the saddle, forsooth.-Poor duke, how does thy head ache now!Fern. Stay; go not hence in choler, blessèd woman!You've schooled me; lend me hearing: though the float Of infinite desires swell to a tide1 Embrace.SCENE III. ] LOVE'S SACRIFICE. 323į11Too high so soon to ebb, yet, by this hand,This glorious, gracious hand of yours,--[Kisses her hand.D'Av. [Aside. ] Ay, marry, the match is made; claphands and to't, ho!Fern. I swear,Henceforth I never will as much in word,In letter, or in syllable, presumeTo make a repetition of my griefs.Good-night t'ye! If, when I am dead, you ripThis coffin of my heart, there shall you readWith constant eyes, what now my tongue defines,Bianca's name carved out in bloody lines.For ever, lady, now good-night!Bian. Good- night!Rest in your goodness. -Lights there! --Enter Attendants with lights.Sir, good-night![ Exeunt BIANCA and FERNANDO sundry ways,with Attendants. ]D'Av. So, via!-To be cuckold- mercy and providence is as natural to a married man as to eat, sleep, orwear a nightcap. Friends! -I will rather trust mine armin the throat of a lion, my purse with a courtesan, myneck with the chance on a die, or my religion in a synagogue of Jews, than my wife with a friend. Wherein doprinces exceed the poorest peasant that ever was yoked toa sixpenny strumpet but that the horns of the one aremounted some two inches higher by a choppine ¹ than 11 i.e. Clogs or pattens, of cork or light framework covered withleather, and worn under the shoe. The practice never prevailed in this country, but seems to have been fashionable at Venice, andplaces where walking was not required, for which choppines were totally unfit, as no woman could drag them after her; at least, if we may trust Lessels, who says that he has often seen them of "afull half-yard high. " Ford's choppines, however, are of a verymoderate description, and do not reach the altitude of the high- heeled shoes which were fashionable in this country in the last century. They derive their origin, as well as their name, from Spain,the region of cork. - Gifford.324 LOVE'S SACRIFI SACRIFICE. [ACT II.the other? O Acteon! the goodliest-headed beast of theforest amongst wild cattle is a stag; and the goodlies:beast among tame fools in a corporation is a cuckold.Re-enter FIORMONDA.I sawFior. Speak, D'Avolos, how thrives intelligence?D'Av. Above the prevention of fate, madam.him kneel, make pitiful faces, kiss hands and forefingers,rise, and by this time he is up, up, madam. Doubtlessthe youth aims to be duke, for he is gotten into theduke's seat an hour ago.Fior. Is't true?D'Av. Oracle, oracle! Siege was laid, parley admitted,composition offered, and the fort entered; there's nointerruption. The duke will be at home to - morrow,gentle animal!-what d'ye resolve?Fior. To stir-up tragedies as black as brave,And send the lecher panting to his grave. [Exeunt.SCENE IV. -A Bedchamber in the Palace.Enter BIANCA, herhair loose, in her night- mantle. Shedrawsa curtain, and FERNANDO is discovered in bed, sleeping; she sets down the candle, andgoes to the bedside.Bian. Resolve, and do; ' tis done.--What! are thoseeyes,Which lately were so overdrowned in tears,So easy to take rest? O happy man!How sweetly sleep hath sealed up sorrows here!But I will call him.-What, my lord, my lord,My Lord Fernando!Fern.Bian.Sleeping or waking?Fern.Who calls me?My lord ,Ha! who is't?SCENE IV. ] LOVE'S SACRIFICE 325 .Bian. 'Tis I:Have you forgot my voice? or is your earBut useful to your eye?SitFern. Madam, the duch*ess!Bian. She, ' tis she; sit up,up and wonder, whiles my sorrows swell:The nights are short, and I have much to say.Fern. Is't possible ' tis you?Bian.Why do you think I come?Fern.'Tis possible:Why! to crown joys,And make me master of my best desires.Bian. 'Tis true, you guess aright; sit up and listen.With shame and passion now I must confess,Since first mine eyes beheld you, in my heartYou have been only king; if there can beA violence in love, then I have feltThat tyranny: be record to my soul ·The justice which I for this folly fear!Fernando, in short words, howe'er my tongueDid often chide thy love, each word thou spak'stWas music to my ear; was never poor,Poor wretched woman lived that loved like me,So truly, so unfeignedly.Fern. O, madam!Bian. To witness that I speak is truth, look here!Thus singly' I adventure to thy bed,And do confess my weakness: if thou tempt'stMy bosom to thy pleasures, I will yield.Fern. Perpetual happiness!Bian. Now hear me out.When first Caraffa, Pavy's duke, my lord ,Saw me, he loved me; and without respectOf dower took me to his bed and bosom;Advanced me to the titles I possess,In allusion probably (as Gifford pointed out) not to the absence of attendants, but to the single garment in which she was clad.326LOVE'SSACRIFICE[ACT II..Not moved by counsel or removed by greatness;Which to requite, betwixt my soul and HeavenI vowed a vow to live a constant wife:I have done so; nor was there in the worldA man created could have broke that truthFor all the glories of the earth but thou,But thou, Fernando! Do I love thee now?Fern. Beyond imagination.Bian. True, I do ,Beyond imagination: if no pledgeOf love can instance what I speak is trueBut loss of my best joys, here, here, Fernando,Be satisfied and ruin me.Fern. What d'ye mean?Bian. To give my body up to thy embraces,A pleasure that I never wished to thrive inBefore this fatal minute. Mark me now;If thou dost spoil me of this robe of shame,By my best comforts, here I vow again,To thee, to Heaven, to the world, to time,Ere yet the morning shall new- christen day,I'll kill myself!Fern.Bian.How, madam, how!I will:Do what thou wilt, ' tis in thy choice: what say ye?Fern. Pish! do you come to try me? tell me, first,Will you but grant a kiss?Bian.Or what thy heart can wish: I am all thine.Yes, take it; that,[ FERNANDO kisses her.Fern. O, me! -Come, come; how many women, pray,Were ever heard or read of, granted love,And did as you protest you will?Bian.Jest not at my calamity. I kneel:Fernando,By these dishevelled hairs, these wretched tears,By all that's good, if what I speak my heart[Kneels..1SCENE IV. ] LOVE'S SACRIFICE. 327Vows not eternally, then think, my lord,Was never man sued to me I denied, -Think me a common and most cunning whor*;And let my sins be written on my grave,My name rest in reproof! [Rises. ]—Do as you list.Fern. I must believe ye, -yet I hope¹ anon,When you are parted from me, you will sayI was a good, cold, easy-spirited man,Nay, laugh at my simplicity: say, will ye?Bian. No, by the faith I owe my bridal vows!But ever hold thee much, much dearer farThan all my joys on earth, by this chaste kiss.[Kisses him.Fern. You have prevailed; and Heaven forbid that IShould by a wanton appetite profaneThis sacred temple! ' tis enough for meYou'll please to call me servant.Bian. Nay, be thine:Command my power, my bosom; and I'll writeThis love within the tables of my heart.Fern. Enough: I'll master passion, and triumphIn being conquered; adding to it this,In you my love as it begun shall end.Bian. The latter I new-vow. But day comes on;What now we leave unfinished of content,Each hour shall perfect up: sweet, let us part.Fern. This kiss, -best life, good rest!Bian.[ Kisses her.All mine to thee!Remember this, and think I speak thy words;"When I am dead, rip up my heart, and readWith constant eyes, what now my tongue defines,Fernando's name carved out in bloody lines. "Once more, good rest, sweet!Fern. Your most faithful servant![ Exit BIANCA- Scene closes.¹ Expect.小ACT THE THIRD.SCENE I.-An Apartment in the Palace.Enter NIBRASSA chafing, followed by JULIA weeping.IB. Get from me, strumpet, infamouswhor*, leprosy of myblood! make thymoan to ballad-singers and rhymers;they'll jig-out thy wretchedness andabominations to new tunes: as for me,I renounce thee; thou'rt no daughterof mine; I disclaim the legitimation of thy birth, andcurse the hour of thy nativity.Jul. Pray, sir, vouchsafe me hearing.Nib. With child! shame to my grave! O, whor*,wretched beyond utterance or reformation, what wouldstsay?Jul. Sir, by the honour of my mother's hearse,He has protested marriage, pledged his faith;Ifvows have any force, I am his wife.Nib. His faith! Why, thou fool, thou wickedly- credulous fool, canst thou imagine luxury¹ is observant ofreligion? no, no; it is with a frequent lecher as usual toforswear as to swear; their piety is in making idolatry aworship; their hearts and their tongues are as differentas thou, thou whor*! and a virgin.Jul. You are too violent; his truth will proveHis constancy, and so excuse my fault.Nib. Shameless woman! this belief will damn thee.How will thy lady marquess justly reprove me for prefer1 Lust.SCENE I. ] 329 LOVE'S SACRIFCE.ring to her service a monster of soewd and impudent alife! Look to't; if thy smooth evil leave thee tothyinfamy, I will never pity thy mctal pangs, never lodgethee under my roof, never ownhee for my child; mercybe my witness!Enter Thou artund ERUCHIO, leading COLONA.Pet. Hide notay folly by unwise excuse,Colona; no entreaties,No warningto persuasion, could put offThe habitf thy dotage on that manOf muckdeceit, Ferentes. Would thine eyesHad sen me in my grave, ere I had knownThe sin of this thine honour!C. Good my lord ,Reaim your incredulity: my faultPrceeds from lawful compositionQwedlock; he hath sealed his oath to minebe my husband.Nib. Husband! hey-day! is't even so? nay, then, weEve partners in affliction: if my jolly gallant's longapper have struck on both sides, all is well. -Petruchio,ou art not wise enough to be a paritor: ¹ come hither,lan, come hither; speak softly; is thy daughter withchild?Pet. With child, Nibrassa!Nib. Foh! do not trick me off; I overheard yourgabbling. Hark in thine ear, so is mine too.Pet. Alas, my lord, by whom?Nib. Innocent! by whom? what an idle question isthat! One co*ck hath trod both our hens: Ferentes,Ferentes; who else? How dost take it? methinks thouart wondrous patient: why, I am mad, stark mad.Pet. Howlike you this, Colona? , ' tis too true:Did not this man protest to be your husband?1 An inferior officer who summoned delinquents (including prostitutes) to a spiritual court.330 LOVE'S SACRIFICE [ACT III..Col. Ay me! to me he did.Nib. What else, what else, Petruchio?-and, madam,my quondam daughter I hope h'ave passed some hugewords of matrimony to you too.Jul. Alas! to me he did.Nib. And how many more the great incubus of hellknows best. - Petruchio, give me your hand; mine owndaughter in this arm, —and yours, Colona, in this: —there, there, sit ye down together. [JULIA and COLONA sitdown. ] Never rise, as you hope to inherit our blessings,till you have plotted some brave revenge;think upon itto purpose, and you shall want no seconds to further it;be secret one to another. -Come, Petruchio, let ' emalone the wenches will demur on't, and for the processwe'll give ' em courage.Pet. You counsel wisely; I approve your plot. -Thinkon your shames, and who it was that wrought ' em.Nib. Ay, ay, ay, leave them alone. To work, wenches,to work! [Exeunt NIBRASSA and PETRUCHIO.Col. We are quite ruined.Jul. True, Colona,Betrayed to infamy, deceived, and mocked,By an unconstant villain: what shall's do?I am with child.Col.But what shall's do now?Jul.Heigh-ho and so am IThis with cunning wordsFirst prove his love; he knows I am with child.Col. And so he knows I am; I told him on'tLast meeting in the lobby, and, in troth,The false deceiver laughed.Jul. Now, by the stars,He did the like to me, and said ' twas wellI was so happily sped.Col. Those very wordsHe used to me: it fretted me to the heart:I'll be revenged.SCENE I.] LOVE'S SACRIFICE. 331Jul.Peace! here's a noise, methinks.Let's rise; we'll take a time to talk of this.[They rise, and walk aside.Enter FERENTES and MORONA.Feren. Will ye hold? death of my delights, have yelost all sense of shame? You're best roar about thecourt that I have been your woman's-barber and trimmedye, kind Morona.Mor. Defiance to thy kindness! thou'st robbed me ofmy good name; didst promise to love none but me, me,only me; sworest like an unconscionable villain, to marryme the twelfth day of the month two months since; didstmake my bed thine own, mine house thine own, mine alland everything thine own. I will exclaim to the worldon thee, and beg justice of the duke himself, villain! Iwill.Feren. Yet again? nay, an if you be in that mood,shut up your fore- shop, I'll be your journeyman nolonger. Why, wise Madam Dryfist, could your mouldybrain be so addle to imagine I would marry a stale widowat six-and-forty? Marry gip! are there not varietiesenough of thirteen? come, stop your clap- dish, ' or I'llpurchase a carting for you. By this light, I have toiledmore with this tough carrion hen than with ten quailsscarce grown into their first feathers.Mor. O, treason to all honesty or religion! -Speak,thou perjured, damnable, ungracious defiler of women,who shall father my child which thou hast begotten?Feren. Why, thee, countrywoman; thou'st a largerpurse to pay for the nursing. Nay, if you'll needs havethe world know how you, reputed a grave, matron-like,motherly madam, kicked up your heels like a jennet whosemark is new come into her mouth, e'en do, do! the worst1 Two or three centuries ago, diseased or infectious wretches wandered up and down with a clap -dish, a wooden vessel with amovable cover, to give the charitable warning at once of their necessities and their infectious condition.- Gifford.332 LOVE'S [ACT III. SACRIFICE.can be said of me is, that I was ill advised to dig for goldin a coal-pit. Are you answered?Mor. Answered!Jul. Let's fall amongst ' em. [ Comes forward withCOLONA] -Love, how is't, chick? ha?Col. My dear Ferentes, my betrothed lord!Feren. [Aside] Excellent! O, for three Barbary stonehorses to stop three Flanders mares! -Why, how now,wenches what means this?Mor. Out upon me! here's more of his trulls.Jul. Love, you must go with me.Col. Good love, let's walk.Feren. [Aside] I must rid my hands of ' em, or they'llride on my shoulders. -By your leave, ladies; here'snone but is of common counsel one with another; inshort, there are three of ye with child , you tell me, by me.All of you I cannot satisfy, nor, indeed, handsomely anyof ye. You all hope I should marry you; which, for thatit is impossible to be done, I am content to have neitherof ye for your looking big on the matter, keep your owncounsels, I'll not bewray ye! but for marriage, -Heavenbless ye, and me from ye! This is myresolution.Col. How, not me!Jul. Not me!Mor. Not me!Feren. Nor you, nor you, nor you: and to give yousome satisfaction , I'll yield ye reasons.---You, Colona,had a pretty art in your dalliance; but your fault was, youwere too suddenly won. -You, Madam Morona, couldhave pleased well enough some three or four- and-thirtyyears ago; but you are too old. —You, Julia, were youngenough, but your fault is, you have a scurvy face.-- Now,everyone knowing her proper defect, thank me that I evervouchsafed you the honour of my bed once in your lives.If you want clouts, all I'll promise is to rip up an oldshirt or two. So, wishing a speedy deliverance to allyour burdens, I commend you to your patience. [Exit.SCENE II. ] LOVE'S SACRIFICE. 333Mor. Excellent!Jul. Notable!Col. Unmatched villain!Jul. Madam, though strangers, yet we understandYour wrongs do equal ours; which to revenge,Please but to join with us, and we'll redeemOur loss of honour by a brave exploit.Mor. I embrace your motion, ladies, with gladness,and will strive by any action to rank with you in anydanger.Col. Come, gentlewomen, let's together, then.-Thrice happy maids that never trusted men! [Exeunt.SCENE II . - The State-room in the Palace.Enter the Duke, BIANCA supported by FERNANDO, FIORMONDA, PETRUCHIO, NIBRASSA, FERENTES, andD'AVOLOS.Duke. Roseilli will not come, then! will not? well;His pride shall ruin him. -Our letters speakThe duch*ess' uncle will be here to-morrow, -To- morrow, D'Avolos.D'Av. To-morrow night, my lord, but not to makemore than one day's abode here; for his Holiness hascommanded him to be at Rome the tenth of this month,the conclave of cardinals not being resolved to sit till hiscoming.Duke. Your uncle, sweetheart, at his next returnMust be saluted cardinal. - Ferentes,Be it your charge to think on some deviceTo entertain the present¹ with delight.Fern. My lord, in honour to the court of PavyI'll join with you. Ferentes, not long sinceI saw in Brussels, at my being there,1 i.e. The present time.334 LOVE'S SACRIFICE [ACT III..!The Duke of Brabant welcome the ArchbishopOf Mentz with rare conceit, even on a sudden,Performed by knights and ladies of his court,In nature of an antic; which methoughtFor that I ne'er before saw women-anticsWas for the newness strange, and much commended.Bian. Now, good my Lord Fernando, further thisIn any wise; it cannot but content.Fior. [Aside] If she entreat, ' tis ten to one the manIs won beforehand.Duke. Friend, thou honour'st me:But can it be so speedily performed?Fern. I'll undertake it, if the ladies please,To exercise in person only that:And we must have a fool, or such an oneAs can with art well act him.Fior.I have a natural.2Fern.I shall fit ye;Best of all, madam:Then nothing wants. -You must make one, Ferentes.Feren. With my best service and dexterity,My lord.Pet. [Aside to NIBRASSA] This falls out happily, Nibrassa.Nib. [Aside to PETRUCHIO] We could not wish itbetter:Heaven is an unbribed justice.Duke. We'll meet our uncle in a solemn graceOf zealous presence, as becomes the church:See all the choir be ready, D'Avolos.D'Av. I have already made your highness' pleasureknown to them.Bian. Your lip, my lord!Fern. Madam?¹ i.e. Of an anti- masque, which was always of a burlesque character.2 An idiot.SCENE II. ] LOVE'S SACRIFICE. 335Bian. Perhaps your teeth have bled: wipe't with myhandkercher: give me, I'll do't myself. [Aside to FERNANDO] Speak, shall I steal a kiss? believe me, my lord,I long.Fern. Not for the world.Fior. [Aside] Apparent impudence!D'Av. Beshrew my heart, but that's not so good.Duke. Ha, what's that thou mislikest, D'Avolos?D'Av. Nothing, my lord; -but I was hammering aconceit of my own, which cannot, I find , in so short atime thrive as a day's practice.Fior. [ Aside] Well put off, secretary.Duke. We are too sad; methinks the life of mirthShould still be fed where we are: where's Mauruccio?Feren. An't please your highness, he's of late grownso affectionately inward with my lady marquess's fool,that I presume he is confident there are few wise menworthy of his society, who are not as innocently harmlessas that creature. It is almost impossible to separatethem, and ' tis a question which of the two is the wiserman.Duke, 'Would he were here! I have a kind of dulnessHangs on me since my hunting, that I feelAs ' twere a disposition to be sick;My head is ever aching.D'Av. A shrewd ominous token; I like not thatneither.Duke. Again! what is't you like not?D'Av. I beseech your highness excuse me; I am sobusy with this frivolous project, and can bring it to noshape, that it almost confounds my capacity.Bian. My lord, you were best to try a set at maw.¹I and your friend, to pass away the time,Will undertake your highness and your sister.1 A game which bore apparently some resemblance to " reversi,"a burlesque of whist.336 LOVE'SSACRIFICE[ACT III..Duke. The game's too tedious.Fior. 'Tis a peevish play;Your knave will heave the queen out or your king;Besides, 'tis all on fortune.Enter MAURUCCIO with ROSEILLI disguised as before, andGIACOPO.Mau. Bless thee, most excellent duke! I here presentthee as worthy and learned a gentleman as ever I--andyet I have lived threescore years-conversed with. Takeit from me, I have tried him, and he is worthy to be privycounsellor to the greatest Turk in Christendom; of a mostapparent and deep understanding, slow of speech, butspeaks to the purpose. Come forward, sir, and appearbefore his highness in your own proper elements,Ros. Will-tye-to da new toate sure la now.Gia. A very senseless gentleman, and, please yourhighness, one that has a great deal of little wit, as theysay.Mau. O, sir, had you heard him, as I did, deliver wholehistories in the Tangay tongue, you would swear therewere not such a linguist breathed again; and did I butperfectly understand his language, I would be confidentin less than two hours to distinguish the meaning of bird,beast, or fish naturally as I myself speak Italian, my lord.Well, he has rare qualities!Duke. Now, prithee, question him, Mauruccio.Mau. I will, my lord.-Tell me, rare scholar, which, in thy opinion,Doth cause the strongest breath, garlic or onion.Gia. Answer him, brother-fool; do, do; speak thymind, chuck, do.Ros. Have bid seen all da fine knack, and de, e,naghtye tat-tle of da kna- ve, dad la have so.Duke. We understand him not.Mau. Admirable, I protest duke; mark, O, duke,mark! What did I ask him, Giacopo?SCENE II. ] 337 * LOVE'S SACRIFICE.Gia. What caused the strongest breath, garlic oronions, I take it, sir.Mau. Right, right, by Helicon! and his answer is,that a knave has a stronger breath than any of ' em:wisdom- or I am an ass -in the highest; a direct figure;put it down, Giacopo.Duke. How happy is that idiot whose ambitionIs but to eat and sleep, and shun the rod!Men that have more of wit, and use it ill ,Are fools in proof.Bian. True, my lord, there's manyWho think themselves most wise that are most fools.D'Av. Bitter girds, ¹ if all were known; -butDuke. But what? speak out; plague on your muttering,grumbling!I hear you, sir; what is't?D'Av. Nothing, I protest, to your highness pertinentto any moment.Duke. Well, sir, remember. - Friend, you promisedstudy.―I am not well in temper. -Come, Bianca.-Attend our friend, Ferentes.[Exeunt all but FERNANDO, ROSEILLI, FERENTESand MAURUCCIO.Fern. Ferentes, take Mauruccio in with you;He must be one in action.Feren.I shall entreat your help.Come, my lord,Fern. I'll stay the fool,And follow instantly.Mau. Yes, pray, my lord.[ Exeunt FERENTES and MAURUCCIO.Fern. How thrive your hopes now, cousin?Ros.Then let me cast myself beneath thy foot,True, virtuous lord. Know, then, sir, her proud heart1 i.e. Sarcasms.Are we safe?Ford, Z9338LOVE'SSACRIFICE.[ACT III .Is only fixed on you, in such extremesOfviolence and passion, that I fear,Or she'll enjoy you, or she'll ruin you.Fern. Me, coz? by all the joys I wish to taste,She is as far beneath my thought as IIn soul above her malice.Ros. I observedEven now a kind of dangerous pretence¹In an unjointed phrase from D'Avolos.I know not his intent; but this I know,He has a working brain, is ministerTo all my lady's counsels; and, my lord ,Pray Heaven there have not anything befall'nWithin the knowledge of his subtle artTo doFern.you mischief!Pish should he or hellAffront me in the passage of my fate,I'd crush them into atomies.Ros. I do admit you could meantime, my lord,Be nearest to yourself; what I can learn ,You shall be soon informed of: here is allWe fools can catch the wise in , —to unknot,By privilege of coxcombs, ² what they plot. [ Exeunt.SCENE III. Another Room in the Palace.Enter DUKE and D'AVOLOS.Duke, Thou art a traitor: do not think the glossOf smooth evasion, by your cunning jestsAnd coinage of your politician's brain,Shall jig me off; I'll know't, I vow I will.Did not I note your dark abrupted endsOf words half- spoke? your " wells, if all were known "?Your short " I like not that "? your girds and " buts "?1Design.2 Fools' - caps.SCENE III . ] LOVE'S SACRIFICE. $339Yes, sir, I did; such broken language arguesMore matter than your subtlety shall hide:Tell me, what is't? by honour's self I'll know.D'Av. What would you know, my lord? I confess Iowe my life and service to you, as to my prince; the oneyou have, the other you may take from me at your pleaShould I devise matter to feed your distrust, orsuggest likelihoods without appearance? what would youhave me say? I know nothing.sure.Duke. Thou liest, dissembler! on thy brow I readDistracted horrors figured in thy looks.On thy allegiance, D'Avolos, as e'erThou hop'st to live in grace with us, unfold .What by the parti- halting of thy speechThy knowledge can discover. By the faith.We bear to sacred justice, we protest,Be it or good or evil, thy rewardShall be our special thanks and love untermed:Speak, on thy duty; we, thy prince, command.1D'Av. O, my disaster! my lord, I am so charmed bythose powerful repetitions of love and duty, that I cannotconceal what I know of your dishonour.Duke. Dishonour! then my soul is cleft with fear;I half presage my misery: say on,Speak it at once, for I am great with grief.D'Av. I trust your highness will pardon me;. yet Iwill not deliver a syllable which shall be less innocentthan truth itself.Duke. By all our wish of joys, we pardon thee.D'Av. Get from me, cowardly servility! my service isnoble, and my loyalty an armour of brass in short, mylord, and plain.discovery, you are a cuckold.Duke. Keep in the word,-

a "cuckold! "D'Av.. Fernando is your rival, has stolen your duch*ess'heart, murdered friendship, horns your head, and laughsat your horns.1 Interminable.340 LOVE'S SACRIFICE [ACT III ..Duke. My heart is split!D'Av. Take courage, be a prince in resolution: I knewit would nettle you in the fire of your composition , andwas loth to have given the first report of this more thanridiculous blemish to all patience or moderation: but, O,my lord, what would not a subject do to approve hisloyalty to his sovereign? Yet, good sir, take it as quietlyas you can: I must needs say ' tis a foul fault; but whatman is he under the sun that is free from the career of hisdestiny? May be she will in time reclaim the errors ofher youth; or ' twere a great happiness in you, if youcould not believe it; that's the surest way, my lord, in mypoor counsel.Duke. The icy current of my frozen bloodIs kindled up in agonies as hotAs flames of burning sulphur. O, my fate!A cuckold! had my dukedom's whole inheritanceBeen rent, mine honours levelled in the dust,So she, that wicked woman, might have sleptChaste in my bosom, ' t had been all a sport.And he, that villain, viper to my heart,That he should be the man! death above utterance!Take heed you prove this true.D'Av.Duke.My lord,-If not,I'll tear thee joint by joint. -Phew! methinksIt should not be:-Bianca! why, I took herFrom lower than a bondage: —hell of hells! —See that you make it good.D'Av. As for that, ' would it were as good as I wouldmake it! I can, if you will temper your distractions, butbring you where you shall see it; no more.Duke. See it!D'Av. Ay, see it, if that be proof sufficient. I, formy part, will slack no service that may testify my simplicity.Duke. Enough.SCENE IV. ] LOVE'S SACRIFICE 341 .Enter FERNANDO.Fer.What news, Fernando?Sir, the abbotIs now upon arrival; all your servantsAttend your presence.Duke. Wewill give him welcomeAs shall befit our love and his respect.Come, mine own best. Fernando, my dear friend.[Exit with FERNANDO.D'Av. Excellent! now for a horned moon. [Musicwithin.] But I hear the preparation for the entertainmentof this great abbot. Let him come and go, that mattersnothing to this; whiles he rides abroad in hope to purchase a purple hat, our duke shall as earnestly heat thepericranion of his noddle with a yellow hood at home. Ihear ' em coming.Loud music. Enter Servants with torches; then the Duke,followed by FERNANDO, BIANCA, FIORMONDA, PETRUCHIO, and NIBRASSA, at one side; two Friars, theAbbot and Attendants at the other. The Duke anaAbbot meet and salute; BIANCA and the rest salute,and are saluted; they rank themselves, and pass overthe stage; the Choir singing.On to your victuals; some of ye, I know, feed uponwormwood. [Exit.SCENE IV. -Another Apartment in the Palace.Enter PETRUCHIO and NIBRASSA with napkins, as fromsupper.Pet. The duke's on rising: are you ready? ho![ Within. ] All ready.Nib. Then, Petruchio, arm thyself with courage and342 LOVE'S SACRIFICE [ACT III..resolution; and do not shrink from being stayed on thyown virtue.Pet. I amresolved. -Fresh lights! —I hear ' em coming.Enter Attendants with lights, before the Duke, Abbot,BIANCA, FIORMONDA, FERNANDO, and D'AVOLOS.Duke. Right reverend uncle, though our minds bescantedIn giving welcome as our hearts would wish,Yet we will strive to show how much we joyYour presence with a courtly show of mirth.Please you to sit.Abbot. Great duke, your worthy honoursTo me shall still have place in my best thanks:Since you in me so much respect the church,Thus much I'll promise, -at my next returnHis holiness shall grant you an indulgenceBoth large and general.Duke. Our humble duty!—Seat you, my lords. -Now let the masquers enter.こEnter, in an antic fashion, FERENTES, ROSEILLI, andMAURUCCIO at several doors; they dance a short time.Suddenly enter to them COLONA, JULIA, and MORONAin odd shapes, and dance: the men gaze at them, andare invited by the women to dance. They dance together sundry changes; at last FERENTES is closed in,-MAURUCCIO and ROSEILLI being shook off, stand atdifferent ends of the stage gazing. The women joinhands and dance round FERENTES with divers complimental offers of courtship; at length they suddenlyfall upon him and stab him; he falls, and they runout at several doors. The music ceases.Feren. Uncase me; I am slain in jest. A pox uponyour outlandish feminine antics! pull off my visor; Ishall bleed to death ere I have time to feel where ISCENE IV. ] LOVE'S SACRIFICE. 343am hurt. -Duke, I am slain: off with my visor; forheaven's sake, off with my visor!Duke. Slain! Take his visor off [ They unmaskFERENTES] -we are betrayed:Seize on them! two are yonder: hold Ferentes:Follow the rest: apparent treachery!Abbot. Holy Saint Bennet, what a sight is this!Re-enter JULIA, COLONA, and MORONA unmasked, eachwith a child in her arms.Jul. Be not amazed, great princes, but vouchsafeYour audience: we are they have done this deed .Look here, the pledges of this false man's lust,Betrayed in our simplicities: he swore,And pawned his truth, to marry each of us;Abused us all; unable to revengeOur public shames but by his public fall ,Which thus we have contrived: nor do we blushTo call the glory of this murder ours;We did it, and we'll justify the deed;For when in sad complaints we claimed his vows,His answer was reproach: -Villain, is't true?66 Col. I wasMor. I was 66too quickly won, " you slave!too old," you dog!Jul. I,-and I never shall forget the wrong,I was 66 not fair enough; " not fair enoughFor thee, thou monster! -let me cut his gall—Not fair enough! O, scorn! not fair enough!Feren. 0, 0, O!-[ Stabs him.Duke. Forbear, you monstrous women! do not addMurder to lust: your lives shall pay this forfeit.Feren. Pox upon all cod-piece extravagancy! I ampeppered-0, 0, 0! —Duke, forgive me! -Had I rid anytame beasts but Barbary wild colts , I had not been thusjerked out of the saddle. My forfeit was in my blood;and my life hath answered it. Vengeance on all wild."344 LOVE'S SACRIFICE. [ACT III.whor*s, I say!-O, ' tis true-farewell, generation ofhackneys!-O!Duke. He is dead.To prison with those monstrous strumpets!Pet.I'll answer for my daughter.Nib.O, well done, girls!Fern.Stay;And I for mine.-I for yon gentlewoman, sir.[Dies.Mau. Good my lord, I am an innocent in the business.Duke. To prison with him! Bear the body hence.Abbot. Here's fatal sad presages: but ' tis justHe dies by murder that hath lived in lust. [Exeunt.ACT THE FOURTH.SCENE I.-An Apartment in the Palace.Enter Duke, FIORMONDA, and D'AVOLOS.IOR. Art thou Caraffa? is there in thyveinsOne drop of blood that issued from theloinsOf Pavy's ancient dukes? or dost thousitOn great Lorenzo's seat, our glorious father,And canst not blush to be so far beneathThe spirit of heroic ancestors?Canst thou engross¹ a slavish shame, which menFar, far below the region of thy stateNot more abhor than study to revenge? \Thou an Italian! I could burst with rageTo think I have a brother so befooledIn giving patience to a harlot's lust.2D'Av. One, my lord, that doth so palpably, so apparently make her adulteries a trophy, whiles the potingstick to her unsatiate and more than goatish abominationjeers at and flouts your sleepish, and more than sleepish,security.Fior. What is she but the sallow- coloured bratOf some unlanded bankrupt, taught to catchThe easy fancies of young prodigal bloods1 Possess.2 Or poking- stick, a slender rod of bone or steel, for setting the plaits of ruffs, cuffs, &c. , after starching.346 LOVE'S SACRIFICE [ACT IV..In springes of her stew-instructed art?—Here's your most virtuous duch*ess! your rare piece!D'Av. More base in the infiniteness of her sensualitythan corruption can infect:-to clip and inveigle yourfriend too! O, unsufferable! —a friend! how of all menare you most unfortunate! --to pour out your soul intothe bosom of such a creature as holds it religion to makeyour own trust a key to open the passage to your ownwife's womb, to be drunk in the privacies of your bed!——think upon that, sir.Duke. Be gentle in your tortures, e'en for pity;For pity's cause I beg it.Fior. Be a prince!Th'adst better, duke, thou hadst, been born a peasant.Now boys will sing thy scandal in the streets ,Tune ballads to thy infamy, get moneyBy making pageants of thee, and inventSome strangely-shaped man- beast, that may for hornsResemble thee, and call it Pavy's Duke.Duke. Endless immortal plague!D'Av. There's the mischief, sir: in the meantime youshall be sure to have a bastard-of whom you did not somuch as beget a little toe, a left ear, or half the furtherside of an upper lip-inherit both your throne and name:this would kill the soul of very patience itself.Duke. Forbear; the ashy paleness of my cheekIs scarleted in ruddy flakes of wrath;And like some bearded meteor shall suck up,With swiftest terror, all those dusky mistsThat overcloud compassion in our breast.You've roused a sleeping lion, whom no art,No fawning smoothness shall reclaim, but blood.And sister thou, thou, Roderico, thou,From whom I take the surfeit of my bane,Henceforth no more so eagerly pursueTo whet my dulness: you shall see CaraffaEqual his birth, and matchless in revenge.SCENE I]. LOVE'S SACRIFICE. 347Fior. Why, now I hear you speak in majesty.D'Av. And it becomes my lord most princely.Duke. Does it?--Come hither, sister. Thou art nearIn nature, and as near to me in love:I love thee, yes, by yon bright firmament,I love thee dearly. But observe me well:If any private grudge or female spleen ,Malice or envy, or such woman's frailty,Have spurred thee on to set my soul on fireWithout apparent certainty, -I vow,And vow again, by all our princely blood,Hadst thou a double soul, or were the livesOf fathers, mothers, children, or the heartsOf all our tribe in thine, I would unripThat womb of bloody mischief with these nailsWhere such a cursèd plot as this was hatched.—-But, D'Avolos, for thee- no more; to workAyet more strong impression in my brainYou must produce an instance to mine eyeBoth present and apparent-nay, you shall-orFior. Or what? you will be mad? be rather wise;Think on Ferentes first, and think by whomThe harmless youth was slaughtered: had he lived ,He would have told you tales: Fernando feared it;And to prevent him, -under show, forsooth,Of rare device, -most trimly cut him off.Have you yet eyes, duke?Duke. Shrewdly urged, -' tis piercing.Fior. For looking on a sight shall split your soul,You shall not care: I'll undertake myselfTo do't some two days hence; for need, to - night,But that you are in court.D'Av. Right. Would you desire, my lord, to seethem exchange kisses, sucking one another's lips, nay,begetting an heir to the dukedom, or practising morethan the very act of adultery itself? Give but a littleway by a feigned , absence, and you shall find ' em- I348 LOVE'S SACRIFICE.[ACT IV.blush to speak doing what: I am mad to think on't;you are most shamefully, most sinfully, most scornfullycornuted.Duke. D'ye play upon me? as I am your prince,There's some shall roar for this! Why, what was I ,Both to be thought or made so vile a thing?Stay, madam marquess, -ho, Roderico, you, sir, --Bear witness that if ever I neglectOne day, one hour, one minute, to wear outWith toil of plot or practice of conceitMy busy skull, till I have found a deathMore horrid than the bull of Phalaris,Or all the fabling poets' dreaming whips;If ever I take rest, or force a smileWhich is not borrowed from a royal vengeance,Before I know which way to satisfyFury and wrong, -nay, kneel down [ They kneel] , — letme dieMore wretched than despair, reproach, contempt,Laughter, and poverty itself can make me!Let's rise on all sides friends [They rise]:- now all'sagreed:Ifthe moon serve, some that are safe shall bleed. 'Enter BIANCA, FERNANDO, and MORONA.Bian. My lord the duke, -Duke. Bianca ha, how is't?How is't, Bianca?-What, Fernando! -come,Shall's shake hands, sirs?—'faith, this is kindly done.Here's three as one welcome, dear wite, sweet friend!D'Av. [Aside to FIORMONDA] I do not like this now;it shows scurvily to me.Bian. My lord, we have a suit; your friend and I—Duke. [ Aside] She puts my friend before, most kindlystill.1 Certain states of the moon were considered especially favour1 able for the operation of bleeding.1SCENE I. ] LOVE'S SACRIFICE.349Bian. Must joinDuke.Bian.Duke.What, " must "?My lord!-Must join, you sayBian. That you will please to set MauruccioAt liberty; this gentlewoman hereHath, by agreement made betwixt them two,Obtained him for her husband: good my lord,Let me entreat; I dare engage mine honourHe's innocent in any wilful fault.Duke. Your honour, madam! now beshrew you for't,T'engage your honour on so slight a ground:Honour's a precious jewel, I can tell you;Nay, ' tis, Bianca; go to!-D'Avolos,Bring us Mauruccio hither.D'Av. I shall, my lord.Mor.[ Exit.I humbly thank your grace,Fern. And, royal sir, since Julia and Colona,Chief actors in Ferentes' tragic end,Were, through their ladies' mediation,Freed by your gracious pardon; I , in pity,Tendered this widow's friendless misery;For whose reprieve I shall, in humblest duty,Be ever thankful.Re- enter D'AVOLOS with MAURUCCIO in rags, andGIACOPO weeping.Mau. Come you, my learnèd counsel, do not roar;If I must hang, why, then, lament therefore:You may rejoice, and both, no doubt, be greatTo serve your prince, when I am turned worms' - meat.I fear my lands and all have is begged; ¹Else, woe is me, why should I be so ragged?D'Av. Come on, sir; the duke stays for you.Mau. O, how my stomach doth begin to puke,When I do hear that only word, the duke!1 ie. As a condemned person.350 [ACT IV.LOVE'S SACRIFICE.Duke. You, sir, look on that woman: are you pleased,If we remit your body from the gaol,To take her for your wife?Mau. On that condition, prince, with all my heart.Mor. Yes, I warrant your grace he is content.Duke. Why, foolish man, hast thou so soon forgotThe public shame of her abused womb,Her being mother to a bastard's birth?Or canst thou but imagine she will beTrue to thy bed who to herself was false?Gia. [To MAURUCCIO] Phew, sir, do not stand uponthat; that's a matter of nothing, you know.Mau. Nay, an't shall please your good grace, an itcome to that, I care not; as good men as I have lain infoul sheets, I am sure; the linen has not been much theworse for the wearing a little: I will have her with allmy heart.Duke. And shalt. -Fernando, thou shalt have thegraceTo join their hands; put ' em together, friend.Bian. Yes, do, my lord; bring you the bridegroomhither;I'll give the bride myself.D'Av. [Aside] Here's argument to jealousy as goodas drink to the dropsy; she will share any disgrace withhim I could not wish it better.Duke. Even so: well, do it.Fern.Long live a happy couple!Duke.Here, Mauruccio;[FERNANDO and BIANCAjoin their hands."Tis enough;Now know our pleasure henceforth. 'Tis our will,If ever thou, Mauruccio, or thy wife,Be seen within a dozen miles o' the court,We will recall our mercy; no entreatShall warrant thee a minute of thy life:We'll have no servile slavery of lustSCENE I. ] LOVE'S SACRIFICE. 351Shall breathe near us; dispatch, and get ye hence.-Bianca, come with me.-[Aside. ] O, my cleft soul![Exeunt Duke and BIANCA.Mau. How's that? must I come no more near thecourt?Gia. O, pitiful! not near the court, sir!D'Av. Not by a dozen miles, indeed , sir. Your onlycourse, I can advise you, is to pass to Naples, and setup a house of carnality: there are very fair and frequentsuburbs, and you need not fear the contagion of anypestilent disease, for the worst is very proper to the place.Fern. 'Tis a strange sentence.Fior.And not without some mystery.D'Av.Mau. Not near the court!'Tis, and sudden too ,Will you go, sir?Mor. What matter is it, sweetheart? fear nothing, love;you shall have new change of apparel, good diet, wholesome attendance; -and we will live like pigeons, mylord.Mau. Wilt thou forsake me, Giacopo?Gia. I forsake ye! no, not as long as I have a wholeear on my head, come what will come.Fior. Mauruccio, you did once proffer true loveTo me, but since you are more thriftier sped ,For old affection's sake here take this gold;Spend it for my sake.Fern.And that's for me, Mauruccio.D'Av.Madam, you do nobly, -[ They give him money.Will ye go, sir?Mau. Yes, I will go; -and I humbly thank your lordship and ladyship. - Pavy, sweet Pavy, farewell!—Come, wife, come, Giacopo:Now is the time that we away must lag,And march in pomp with baggage and with bag.O poor Mauruccio! what hast thou misdone,To end thy life when life was new begun?352 [ACT IV. ' LOVE'S SACRIFICE.Adieu to all; for lords and ladies seeMy woeful plight and squires of low degree!D'Av. Away, away, sirs![Exeunt all but FIORMONDA and FERNANDO.Fior. My Lord Fernando,-Fern.Fior.My brother's odd distractions?Madam?Do you noteYou were wontTo bosom in his counsels: I am sureYou know the ground of it.Fern. Not I, in troth.Fior. Is't possible? What would you say, my lordIfhe, out of some melancholy spleen,Edged- on by some thank- picking parasite,Should now prove jealous? I mistrust it shrewdly.Fern. What, madam! jealous?Fior. Yes; for but observe,Aprince whose eye is chooser to his heartIs seldom steady in the lists of love,Unless the party he affects do matchHis rank in equal portion or in friends:I never yet, out of report, or elseBy warranted description, have observedThe nature of fantastic jealousy,If not in him; yet, on my conscience now,He has no cause.Fern. Cause, madam! by this light,I'll pledge my soul against a useless rush.Fior. I never thought her less; yet, trust me, sir,No merit can be greater than your praise:Whereat I strangely wonder, how a manVowed, as you told me, to a single life,Should so much deify the saints from whomYou have disclaimed devotion.Fern. Madam, ' tis true;From them I have, but from their virtues never.Fior. You are too wise, Fernando. To be plain,SCENE II. ] 353 LOVE'S SACRIFICE.1You are in love; nay, shrink not, man, you are;Bianca is your aim: why do you blush?She is , I know she is.Fern. My aim!Fior. Yes, yours;I hope I talk no news. Fernando, knowThou runn'st to thy confusion, if in timeThou dost not wisely shun that Circe's charm.Unkindest man! I have too long concealedMy hidden flames, when still in silent signsI courted thee for love, without respectTo youth or state; and yet thou art unkind.Fernando, leave that sorceress, if notFor love of me, for pity of thyself.Fern. [Walks aside] . Injurious woman, I defy thy lust.'Tis not your subtle sifting that shall creepInto the secrets of a heart unsoiled.—You are my prince's sister, else your maliceHad railed itself to death: but as for me,Be record all my fate, I do detestYour fury or affection: —judge the rest. [Exit.Fior. What, gone! well , go thy ways: I see the moreI humble my firm love, the more he shunsBoth it and me. So plain! then ' tis too lateTo hope; change, peevish passion, to contempt!Whatever rages in my blood I feel,Fool, he shall know I was not born to kneel. [Exit.SCENE II.-Another Room in the Palace.Enter D'AVOLOS and JULIA.D'Av. Julia, mine own, speak softly. What, hast thoulearned out any thing of this pale widgeon? speak soft;what does she say?Jul. Foh, more than all; there's not an hour shall Ford. A Apass354 [ACT IV. LOVE'S SACRIFICE.But I shall have intelligence, she swears.Whole nights-you know my mind; I hope you'll giveThe gown you promised me.D'Av. Honest Julia, peace; thou'rt a woman worth akingdom. Let me never be believed now but I think itwill be my destiny to be thy husband at last: what thoughthou have a child, or perhaps two?Jul. Never but one, I swear.D'Av. Well, one; is that such a matter? I like theethe better for't! it shows thou hast a good tenantable andfertile womb, worth twenty of your barren, dry, bloodlessdevourers of youth. -But come, I will talk with theemore privately; the duke has a journey in hand, and willnot be long absent: see, he has come already--let's passaway easily. [Exeunt.Enter Duke and BIANCA.Duke. Troubled? yes, I have cause. -O, Bianca!Here was my fate engraven in thy brow,This smooth, fair, polished table; in thy cheeksNature summed up thy dower: ' twas not wealth,The miser's god, or royalty of blood ,Advanced thee to my bed; but love, and hopeOf virtue that might equal those sweet looks:If, then, thou shouldst betray my trust, thy faith,To the pollution of a base desire,Thou wert a wretched woman.Bian.Or fear, my lord?Duke.Speaks your loveBoth, both. Bianca, know,The nightly languish of my dull unrestHath stamped a strong opinion; for, methought, -Mark what I say, —as I in glorious pompWas sitting on my throne, whiles I had hemmedMy best-beloved Bianca in mine arms,She reached my cap of state, and cast it downBeneath her foot, and spurned it in the dust;SCENE 11. ] LOVE'S SACRIFICE 355 .Whiles I-O, ' twas a dream too full of fate!Was stooping down to reach it, on my headFernando, like a traitor to his vows,Clapt, in disgrace, a coronet of horns.But, by the honour of anointed kings,Were both of you hid in a rock of fire,Guarded by ministers of flaming hell,I have a sword-' tis here-should make my wayThrough fire, through darkness, death, and hell, andall ,To hew your lust- engendered flesh to shreds,Pound you to mortar, cut your throats, and minceYour flesh to mites: I will, -start not, —I will.Bian. Mercy protect me, will ye murder me?Duke. Yes. -0, I cry thee mercy!-Howthe rageOf my own dreamed- of wrongs made me forgetAll sense of sufferance! -Blame me not, Bianca;One such another dream would quite distractReason and self- humanity: yet tell me,Was't not an ominous vision?Bian. 'Twas, my lord,Yet but a vision: for did such a guiltHang on mine honour, ' twere no blame in you,If did stab me to the heart. youDuke. The heart!Nay, strumpet, to the soul; and tear it offFrom life, to damn it in immortal death.Bian. Alas! what do you mean, sir?Duke.Forgive me, good Bianca; still methinksI am mad.—I dream and dream anew: now, prithee, chide me.Sickness and these divisions so distractMy senses, that I take things possibleAs if they were; which to remove, I meanTo speed me straight to Lucca, where, perhaps,Absence and bathing in those healthful springsMay soon recover me; meantime, dear sweet,A356[ACT IV.LOVE'SSACRIFICE.Pity my troubled heart; griefs are extreme:Yet, sweet, when I am gone, think on my dream.-Who waits without, ho!Enter PETRUCHIO, NIBRASSA, FIORMONDA, D'AVOLOS,ROSEILLI disguised as before, and FERNANDO.To pass to Lucca?Pet.Is provision ready,It attends your highness,Duke. Friend, hold; take here from me this jewel,this: [Gives BIANCA to FERNANDO.Be she your care till my return from Lucca,Honest Fernando. -Wife, respect my friend.-Let's go:-but hear ye, wife, think on my dream.[ Exeunt all but ROSEILLI and PETRUCHIO.Pet. Cousin, one word with you: doth not thiscloudAcquaint you with strange novelties? The dukeIs lately much distempered: what he meansBy journeying now to Lucca, is to meAriddle; can you clear my doubt;Ros. O, sir,My fears exceed my knowledge, yet I noteNo less than you infer; all is not well;Would ' twere! whosoe'er thrive, I shall be sureNever to rise to my unhoped desires.But, cousin, I shall tell you more anon:Meantime, pray send my Lord Fernando to me;I covet much to speak with him.Pet.And see,He comes himself; I'll leave you both together.Re-enter FERNANDO.[Exit.Fern. The duke is horsed for Lucca. How now,coz,How prosper you in love?SCENE II . ] LOVE'S SACRIFICE. 357Ros.My lord, you are undone.Fern.As still I hoped.'—Undone in what?Ros. Lost; and I fear your life is bought and sold;I'll tell you how. Late in my lady's chamberAs I by chance lay slumbering on the mats,In comes the lady marquess, and with herJulia and D'Avolos; where sitting down,Not doubting me, " Madam, " quoth D'Avolos,"We have discovered now the nest of shame."In short, my lord, for you already knowAs much as they reported, there was toldThe circ*mstance of all your private loveAnd meeting with the duch*ess; when, at last,False D'Avolos concluded with an oath,"We'll make, " quoth he, " his heart- strings crack forthis. "Fern. Speaking of me?Ros. Of you; " Ay, " quoth the marquess,"Were not the duke a baby, he would seekSwift vengeance; for he knew it long ago."Fern. Let him know it; yet I vowShe is as loyal in her plighted faithAs is the sun in Heaven: but put caseShe were not, and the duke did know she were not;This sword lifted up, and guided by this arm,Shall guard her from an armèd troop of fiendsAnd all the earth beside.Ros.In your destruction.Fern.You are too safeDamn him!--he shall feel—But peace! who comes?Enter COLONA.Col. My lord, the duch*ess cravesAword with you.1 Expected.358[ACT IV.LOVE'SSACRIFICE.Fern.Col.Where is she?Ros. Here, have a plum for ie'eeIn her chamber.Col. Come, fool, I'll give thee plums enow; come, fool.Fern. Let slaves in mind be servile to their fears;Our heart is high instarred in brighter spheres.[ Exeunt FERNANDO and COLONA.Ros. I see him lost already.If all prevail not, we shall know too lateNo toil can shun the violence of fate.ACT THE FIFTH.SCENE I. -The Palace. The duch*ess's Bedchamber.BIANCA discovered in her night- attire, leaning on a cushionat a table, holding FERNANDO by the hand.above FIORMONDA.EnterIOR. [Aside] Now fly, Revenge, andwound the lower earth,That I, insphered above, may crossthe raceOf love despised, and triumph o'ertheir gravesWho scorn the low-bent thraldom of my heart!Bian. Why shouldst thou not be mine? why shouldThe iron laws of ceremony, barMutual embraces? what's a vow? a vow?Can there be sin in unity? could IAs well dispense with conscience as renounceThe outside of my titles, the poor styleOf duch*ess, I had rather change my lifeWith any waiting-woman in the land[the laws,To purchase one night's rest with thee, Fernando,Than be Caraffa's spouse a thousand years.Fior. [Aside] Treason to wedlock! this would makeyou sweat.Fern. Lady of all¹ · as before,1 This is the largest lacuna in Ford's works. Several lines appear to have fallen out.360 LOVE'S SACRIFICE [ACT V. .· what I am,To survive you, or I will see you firstOr widowed or buried: if the last,By all the comfort I can wish to taste,Byyour fair eyes, that sepulchre that holds.Your coffin shall incoffin me alive;I sign it with this seal.Fior. [Aside][Kisses her.Ignoble strumpet!Bian. You shall not swear; take off that oath again,Or thus I will enforce it.Fern. Use that force,And make me perjurèd; for whiles your lipsAre made the book, it is a sport to swear,And glory to forswear.Fior. [Aside][Kisses him.Here's fast and loose!Which, for a ducat, now the game's on foot?Whilst they are kissing, the Duke and D'AVOLOS, withtheir swords drawn, appear at the door, followed byPETRUCHIO, NIBRASSA, and a Guard.Col. [Within] Help, help! madam, you are betrayed,madam; help, help!D'Av. [Aside to Duke] Is there confidence in credit,now, sir? belief in your own eyes? do you see? do yousee, sir? can you behold it without lightning?Col. [Within] Help, madam, help!Fern. What noise is that? I heard one cry.Duke [ Comes forward]Know you who I am?Ha, did you?Fern. Yes; thou'rt Pavy's duke,Dressed like a hangman: see, I am unarmed,Yet do not fear thee; though the coward doubtOfwhat I could have done hath made thee stealThe advantage of this time, yet, duke, I dareThy worst, for murder sits upon thy cheeks:To't, man!Duke. I am too angry in my rageSCENE I. ] LOVE'S SACRIFICE. 361To scourge thee unprovided. —Take him hence;Away with him!Fern.D'Av.[The Guard seize FERNANDO.Unhand me!You must go, sir.Fern. Duke, do not shame thy manhood to lay handsOn that most innocent lady.Duke.Confine him to his chamber.Yet again!—[Exeunt D'AVOLOS and the Guard with FERNANDO.Leave us all;None stay, not one; shut up the doors.[ Exeunt PETRUCHIO and NIBRASSA.Fior. Now show thyself my brother, brave Caraffa.Duke. Woman, stand forth before me; -wretchedWhat canst thou hope for?Bian.[whor*,Death; I wish no less.You told me you had dreamt; and, gentle duke,Unless you be mistook, you're now awaked.Duke. Strumpet, I am; and in my hand hold upThe edge that must uncut thy twist of life:Dost thou not shake?Bian. For what? to see a weak,Faint, trembling arm advance a leaden blade?Alas, good man! put up, put up; thine eyesAre likelier much to weep than arms to strike:What would you do now, pray?Duke. What! shameless harlot!Rip up the cradle of thy cursed womb,In which the mixture of that traitor's lustImposthumes for a birth of bastardy.Yet come, and if thou think'st thou canst deserveOne mite of mercy, ere the boundless spleenOfjust- consuming wrath o'erswell my reason,Tell me, bad woman, tell me what could moveThy heart to crave variety of youth.Bian. I'll tell ye, if you needs would be resolved;I held Fernando much the properer man.362 LOVE'S SACRIFICE. [ACT V.Duke. Shameless, intolerable whor*!Bian.What ails you?Can you imagine, sir, the name of dukeCould make a crookèd leg, a scambling¹ foot,A tolerable face, a wearish² hand,A bloodless lip, or such an untrimmed beardAs yours, fit for a lady's pleasure? no:I wonder you could think ' twere possible,When I had once but looked on your Fernando,I ever could love you again; fie, fie!Now, by my life, I thought that long agoY' had known it, and been glad you had a friendYour wife did think so well of.Duke. O my stars!Here's impudence above all history.Why, thou detested reprobate in virtue,Dar'st thou, without a blush, before mine eyesSpeak such immodest language?Bian. Dare! yes, ' faith,You see I dare say now;

I know what you would

You would fain tell me how exceeding muchI am beholding to you, that vouchsafedMe, from a simple gentlewoman's place,The honour of your bed: ' tis true, you did;But why? ' twas but because you thought I hadAspark of beauty more than you had seen.To answer this, my reason is the like;The self-same appetite which led you onTo marry me led me to love your friend:O, he's a gallant man! if ever yetMine eyes beheld a miracle composedOf flesh and blood, Fernando has my voice.I must confess, my lord, that for a princeHandsome enough you are, and—and no more;But to compare yourself with him! trust me,You are too much in fault. Shall I advise you?2 Withered. 1 Sprawling.SCENE I. ] 363 LOVE'S SACRIFICE.Hark in your ear; thank Heaven he was so slowAs not to wrong your sheets; for, as I live,The fault was his, not mine.Fior. Take this, take all.Duke. Excellent, excellent! the pangs of deathAre music to this.—Forgive me, my good genius; I had thoughtI matched a woman, but I find she isA devil, worser than the worst in hell.—Nay, nay, since we are in, e'en come, say on;I mark you to a syllable: you sayThe fault was his, not yours; why, virtuous mistress,Can you imagine you have so much artWhich may persuade me you and your close markmanDid not a little traffic in my right?Bian. Look, what I said, ' tis true; for, know it now, -I must confess I missed no means, no time,To win him to my bosom; but so much,So holily, with such religion,He kept the laws of friendship, that my suitWas held but, in comparison, a jest;Nor did I ofter urge the violenceOf my affection, but as oft he urgedThe sacred vows of faith ' twixt friend and friend:Yet be assured, my lord , if ever languageOf cunning servile flatteries, entreaties,Or what in me is , could procure his love,I would not blush to speak it.Duke. Such anotherAs thou art, miserable creature, wouldSink the whole sex of women: yet confessWhat witchcraft used the wretch to charm the heartOf the once spotless temple of thy mind?For without witchcraft it could ne'er be done.Bian. Phew!-an you be in these tunes, sir, I'll leave; ¹You know the best and worst and all.1 i.e. Leave off, say no more.364 LOVE'S [ACT V. SACRIFICE.Duke. Nay, then,Thou tempt'st me to thy ruin. Come, black angel,Fair devil, in thy prayers reckon upThe sum in gross of all thy veinèd¹ follies;There, amongst others, weep in tears of blood.For one above the rest, adultery!Adultery, Bianca! such a guiltAs, were the sluices of thine eyes let up,Tears cannot wash it off: ' tis not the tideOf trivial wantonness from youth to youth,But thy abusing of thy lawful bed,Thy husband's bed; his in whose breast thou sleep'st,His that did prize thee more than all the trashWhich hoarding worldlings make an idol of.When thou shalt find the catalogue enrolledOf thy misdeeds, there shall be writ in textThy bastarding the issues of a prince.Now turn thine eyes into thy hovering soul,And do not hope for life; would angels singArequiem at my hearse but to dispenseWith my revenge on thee, ' twere all in vain:Prepare to die!Bian. [ Opens her bosom] I do; and to the pointOfthy sharp sword with open breast I'll runHalfway thus naked; do not shrink, Caraffa;This daunts not me: but in the latter actOf thy revenge, ' tis all the suit I askAt my last gasp, to spare thy noble friend;For life to me without him were a death.Duke. Not this; I'll none of this; ' tis not SOfit.-Why should I kill her? she may live and change,Or- [Throws down his sword.Fior. Dost thou halt? faint coward, dost thou wishTo blemish all thy glorious ancestors?1Is this thy courage?1 i.e. In the blood.SCENE II . ] LOVE'S SACRIFICE. 365Duke. Ha! say you so too?—Here.Give me thy hand, Bianca,Bian.Duke.Farewell;Thus go in everlasting sleep to dwell![Draws his dagger and stabs her.Here's blood for lust, and sacrifice for wrong.Bian. 'Tis bravely done; thou hast struck home atonce:Live to repent too late. Commend my love 1 To thy true friend, my love to him that owes ¹ it;My tragedy to thee; my heart to-to-Fernando.0-0!Duke. Sister, she's dead.Fior.[Dies.Then, whiles thy rage is warmGood:Pursue the causer of her trespass.Duke.I'll slack no time whiles I am hot in blood.[Takes up his sword and exit.Fior. Here's royal vengeance! this becomes the stateOf his disgrace and my unbounded hate. [ Exit above.SCENE II . -An Apartment in the Palace.Enter FERNANDO, NIBRASSA, and PETRUCHIO.Pet. May we give credit to your words, my lord?Speak, on your honour.Fern. Let me die accursed ,If ever, through the progress of my life ,I did as much as reap the benefitOf any favour from her save a kiss:A better woman never blessed the earth.Nib. Beshrew my heart, young lord, but I believe thee:alas, kind lady, ' tis a lordship to a dozen of points 2 but1 Owns. 2 Tagged laces.V366LOVE'SSACRIFICE.[ACT V.the jealous madman will in his fury offer her someviolence.Pet. If it be thus, ' twere fit you rather keptA guard about you for your own defenceThan to be guarded for securityOf his revenge; he is extremely moved.Nib. Passion of my body, my lord , if he come in hisodd fits to you, in the case you are, he might cut yourthroat ere you could provide a weapon of defence: nay,rather than it shall be so, hold , take my sword in yourhand; ' tis none of the sprucest, but ' tis a tough fox¹ willnot fail his master, come what will come. Take it; I'llanswer't, I in the mean time Petruchio and I will back tothe duch*ess' lodging. [ Gives FERNANDO his sword.Pet. Well thought on; -and, despite of all his rage,Rescue the virtuous lady.

Nib. Look to yourself, my lord! the duke comes.Enter the Duke, a sword in one hand, and a bloody daggerin the other.Duke. Stand, and behold thy executioner,Thou glorious traitor! I will keep no formOf ceremonious law to try thy guilt:Look here, ' tis written on my poniard's point,The bloody evidence of thy untruth,Wherein thy conscience and the wrathful rodOf Heaven's scourge for lust at once give upThe verdict of thy crying villainies.I see thou'rt armed prepare, I crave no oddsGreater than is the justice of my cause;Fight, or I'll kill thee.Fern. Duke, I fear thee not:But first I charge thee, as thou art a prince,Tell me how hast thou used thy duch*ess?Duke. How!To add affliction to thy trembling ghost,Look on my dagger's crimson dye, and judge,1 Sword.SCENE II . ] LOVE'S SACRIFICE. 367Fern. Not dead?Duke. Not dead! yes, by my honour's truth: why,fool,Dost think I'll hug my injuries? no, traitor!I'll mix your souls together in your deaths,As you did both your bodies in her life.-Have at thee!Fern. Stay; I yield my weapon up.[He drops his sword.Here, here's my bosom: as thou art a duke,Dost honour goodness, if the chaste Bianca.Be murdered, murder me.Duke. Faint-hearted coward,Art thou so poor in spirit! Rise and fight;Or, by the glories of my house and name,I'll kill thee basely.Fern. Do but hear me first:Unfortunate Caraffa, thou hast butcheredAn innocent, a wife as free from lustAs any terms of art can deify.Duke. Pish, this is stale dissimulation;I'll hear no more.Fern. If ever I unshrinedThe altar of her purity, or tastedMore of her love than what without controlOr blame a brother from a sister might,Rack me to atomies. I must confessI have too much abused thee; did exceedIn lawless courtship; ' tis too true, I did:But, by the honour which I owe to goodness,For any actual folly I am free.Duke. 'Tis false: as much in death for thee she spake.Fern. By yonder starry roof, ' tis true. O duke!Couldst thou rear up another world like this,Another like to that, and more, or more,Herein thou art most wretched; all the wealthOf all those worlds could not redeem the loss368LOVE'SSACRIFICE.[ACT V.Of such a spotless wife. Glorious Bianca,Reign in the triumph of thy martyrdom;Earth was unworthy ofthee!Nib. and Pet. Now, on our lives, we both believe him.Duke. Fernando, dar'st thou swear upon my swordTo justify thy words?Fern. I dare; look here. [Kisses the sword.'Tis not the fear of death doth prompt my tongue,For I would wish to die; and thou shalt know,Poor miserable duke, since she is dead,I'll hold all life a hell.Duke. Bianca chaste!Fern. As virtue's self is good.Duke. Chaste, chaste, and killed by me! to herI offer up this remnant of my-[Offers to stab himself, and is stayed by FERNANDO.Fern.Be gentler to thyself.Pet.Hold!Alas, my lord,Whither nowIs this a wise man's carriage?Duke.Shall I run from the day, where never man,Nor eye, nor eye of Heaven may see a dogSo hateful as I am? Bianca chaste!Had not the fury of some hellish rageBlinded all reason's sight, I must have seenHer clearness in her confidence to die.Your leaveKneels, holds up his hands, and, after speakingto himself a little, rises.'Tis done come, friend, now for her love,Her love that praised thee in the pangs of death,I'll hold thee dear. -Lords, do not care for me,I am too wise to die yet. —O, Bianca!Enter D'AvOLOS.D'Av. The Lord Abbot of Monaco, sir, is, in hisSCENE III. ]LOVE'S SACRIFICE. 369return from Rome, lodged last night late in the city veryprivately; and hearing the report of your journey, onlyintends to visit your duch*ess to- morrow.Duke. Slave, torture me no more! —note him, my lords;If you would choose a devil in the shapeOf man, an arch-arch-devil, there stands one.We'll meet our uncle. -Order straight, Petruchio,Our duch*ess may be coffined; ' tis our willShe forthwith be interred, with all the speedAnd privacy you may, i ' the college- churchAmongst Caraffa's ancient monuments:Some three days hence we'll keep her funeral.-Damned villain! bloody villain! -O, Bianca! --No counsel from our cruel wills can win us;But ills once done, we bear our guilt within us.[Exeunt all but D'AVOLOS.D'Av. Good b'wi'ye! "Arch-arch-devil! " why, I amservice! beshrew myNow must say myripe an age to havepaid. Here's bounty for goodheart, it is a right princely reward.prayers, that I have lived to somy head stricken off. I cannot tell; ' t may be my LadyFiormonda will stand on my behalf to the duke: that'sbut a single hope; a disgraced courtier oftener findsenemies to sink him when he is falling than friends torelieve him. I must resolve to stand to the hazard of allbrunts now. Come what may, I will not die like acoward; and the world shall know it. [Exit.SCENE III . -Another Apartment in the Palace.Enter FIORMONDA, and ROSEILLI discovering himself.Ros. Wonder not, madam; here behold the manWhom your disdain hath metamorphosed.Thus long have I been clouded in this shape,Ford.BB370 LOVE'S SACRIFICE. [ACT V.Led on by love; and in that love, despair:If not the sight of our distracted court,Nor pity of my bondage, can reclaimThe greatness of your scorn, yet let me knowMy latest doom from you.Fior. Strange miracle!Roseilli, I must honour thee: thy truth,Like a transparent mirror, representsMy reason with my errors. Noble lord,That better dost deserve a better fate,Forgive me if my heart can entertainAnother thought of love, it shall be thine.Ros. Blessed, for ever blessèd be the words!In death you have revived me.Enter D'AVOLOS.D'Av. [ Aside] Whom have we here? Roseilli, thesupposed fool? ' tis he; nay, then, help me a brazenface -My honourable lord!Ros. Bear off, bloodthirsty man! come not near me.D'Av. Madam, I trust the service ---Fior. Fellow, learn to new-live: the way to thriftFor thee in grace is a repentant shrift.Ros. Ill has thy life been, worse will be thy end:Men fleshed in blood know seldom to amend,Enter Servant,Ser. His highness commends his love to you, andexpects your presence; he is ready to pass to the church,only staying for my lord abbot to associate him. — Withal,his pleasure is, that you, D'Avolos, forbear to rank in thissolemnity in the place of secretary; else to be there as aprivate man. Pleaseth you to go?[Exeunt all but D'AVOLOS.D'Av. As a private man! what remedy? This waythey must come; and here I will stand, to fall amongst ' em in the rear,SCENE III. ] LOVE'S SACRIFICE. 371Asolemn strain of soft music. The Scene opens, and discovers the Church, with a tomb in the background.Enter Attendants with torches, after them two Friars; thenthe Duke in mourning manner; after him the Abbot,FIORMONDA, COLONA, JULIA, ROSEILLI, PETRUCHIO,NIBRASSA, and a Guard. -D'AVOLOS follows. Whenthe procession approaches the tomb they all kneel. TheDuke goes to the tomb, and lays his hand on it. Themusic ceases.Duke. Peace and sweet rest sleep here! Let not thetouchOf this my impious hand profane the shrineOffairest purity, which hovers yetAbout those blessèd bones inhearsed within.If in the bosom of this sacred tomb,Bianca, thy disturbèd ghost doth range,Behold, I offer up the sacrificeOfbleeding tears, shed from a faithful spring,Pouring oblations of a mourning heartTo thee, offended spirit! I confessI am Caraffa, he, that wretched man,That butcher, who, in my enragèd spleen,Slaughtered the life of innocence and beauty.Now come I to pay tribute to those woundsWhich I digged up, and reconcile the wrongsMy fury wrought and my contrition mourns.So chaste, so dear a wife was never manBut I enjoyed; yet in the bloom and prideOf all her years untimely took her life.—Enough set ope the tomb, that I may takeMy last farewell, and bury griefs with her.[The tomb is opened, out of which rises FERNANDOin his winding-sheet, his face only uncovered;as the Duke is going in he puts him back.Fern. Forbear! what art thou that dost rudely pressInto the confines of forsaken graves?372 LOVE'S SACRIFICE. [ACT V.Has death no privilege? Com'st thou, Caraffa,To practise yet a rape upon the dead?Inhuman tyrant! -Whats'ever thou intendest, know this placeIs pointed out for my inheritance;Here lies the monument of all my hopes:Had eager lust intrunked my conquered soul,I had not buried living joys in death.Go, revel in thy palace, and be proudTo boast thy famous murders; let thy smooth,Low-fawning parasites renown thy act:Thou com'st not here.Duke. Fernando, man of darkness,Never till now, before these dreadful sights,Did I abhor thy friendship: thou hast robbedMy resolution of a glorious name.Come out, or, by the thunder of my rage,Thou diest a death more fearful than the scourgeOf death can whip thee with.Fern. Of death!-poor duke!Why, that's the aim I shoot at; ' tis not threats———Maugre thy power, or the spite of hellShall rend that honour: let life- hugging slaves ,Whose hands imbrued in butcheries like thineShake terror to their souls, be loth to die!See, I am clothed in robes that fit theI pity thy defiance.Duke.And drag him out.Fern.Guard, lay hands,grave:Yes, let ' em; here's my shield;Here's health to victory![As the Guard go to seize him, he drinks-offa phial ofpoison.Now do thy worst.-Farewell, duke! once I have outstripped thy plots;Not all the cunning antidotes of artCan warrant me twelve minutes of my life:SCENE III. ] LOVE'S SACRIFICE. 373It works, it works already, bravely! bravely!Now, now I feel it tear each several joint.O royal poison! trusty friend! split, splitBoth heart and gall asunder, excellent bane!Roseilli, love my memory.--Well searched out,Swift, nimble venom! torture every vein.—I come, Bianca-cruel torment, feast,Feast on, do-Duke, farewell. —Thus I -hot flames!Conclude my love, —and seal it in my bosom!O!Abbot. Most desperate end!Duke. None stir;Who steps a foot steps to his utter ruin.—And art thou gone, Fernando? art thou gone?Thou wert a friend unmatched; rest in thy fame.—Sister, when I have finished my last days,Lodge me, my wife , and this unequalled friend,All in one monument. -Now to my vows.Never henceforth let any passionate¹ tongueMention Bianca's and Caraffa's name,But let each letter in that tragic soundBeget a sigh, and every sigh a tear;Children unborn, and widows whose lean cheeksAre furrowed up by age, shall weep whole nights,Repeating but the story of our fates;Whiles in the period, closing up their tale,They must conclude how for Bianca's loveCaraffa, in revenge of wrongs to her,Thus on her altar sacrificed his life.Abbot. O, hold the duke's hand!Fior.[Dies.[ Stabs himself.Save my brother, save him!Duke. Do, do; I was too willing to strike homeTo be prevented. Fools, why, could you dreamI would outlive my outrage?-Sprightful flood,Run out in rivers! O, that these thick streamsCould gather head, and make a standing pool.1 Sorrow.ul.LOVE'S SACRIFICE. [ACT V.374That jealous husbands here might bathe in blood!So! I grow sweetly empty; all the pipesOf life unvessel life. -Now heavens, wipe outThe writing of my sin! -Bianca, thusI creep to thee to thee-to thee, Bi- an- -ca.Ros. He's dead already, madam.[Dies.D'Av. [Aside] Above hope! here's labour saved; Icould bless the destinies .Abbot. 'Would I had never seen it!Fior.My Lord Roseilli, in the true requitalOf your continued love, I here possess You ofthe dukedom, and with it of me,In presence of this holy abbót.Since ' tis thus ,Lady, then,Abbot.From my hand take your husband; long enjoy [Joins their hands.Each to each other's comfort and content!All. Long live Roseilli! Ros. First, thanks to Heaven; next, lady, to your love;Lastly, my lords, to all: and that the entranceInto this principality may give Fair hopes of being worthy of our place,Our first work shall be justice .--D'Avolos ,Stand forth.D'Av.Ros.My gracious lord! --- No, graceless villain!I am no lord of thine. -Guard, take him hence,Convey him to the prison's top; in chainsHang him alive; whosoe'er lends a bitOfbread to feed him dies. -Speak not against it ,I will be deaf to mercy. —Bear him hence! D'Av. Mercy, new duke; here's my comfort, I makebut one in the number of the tragedy of princes.[He is led off.Ros. Madam, a second charge is to performYour brother's testament; we'll rear a tombSCENE III. LOVE'S SACRIFICE. 375ATo those unhappy lovers, which shall tellTheir fatal loves to all posterity.-Thus, then, for you; henceforth I here dismissThe mutual comforts of our marriage- bed:Learn to new-live, my vows unmoved shall stand;And since your life hath been so much uneven,Bethink in time to make your peace with Heaven.Fior. O, me! is this your love?Ros.Which no persuasion shall remove.Abbot.Purge frailty with repentance.Fior.'Tis your desert;'Tis fit;I embrace it:Happy too late, since lust hath made me foul,Henceforth I'll dress my bride- bed in my soul.Ros. Please you to walk, lord abbot?Abbot. Yes, set on.No age hath heard, nor chronicle can say,That ever here befell a sadder day. [Exeunt.1PERKIN WARBECK.ERKIN WARBECK was acted atthe Phoenix and published in 1634as " a chronicle history. " Fordfounded it on Bacon's Life ofHenry VII.The play was reprinted in 1714, aperiod at which there were insurrectionary movements in Scotland.Inthe memorable year of 1745 , when the young Pretender appeared, Ford's play was revived (at the time that twoother plays appeared on the same subject, by Macklin andElderton), at Goodman's Fields Theatre, but so sympathetic a picture of a pretender could scarcely haveappealed to the public of that period. Schiller left behind him the sketch of a drama calledWarbeck.To his worthy Friend, Master John Ford, upon hisPerkin Warbeck.Let men who are writ poets lay a claimTo the Phœbean hill , I have no nameNor art in verse: true, I have heard some tellOf Aganippe, but ne'er knew the well;Therefore have no ambition with the timesTo be in print, for making of ill rhymes;But love of thee, and justice to thy pen ,Hath drawn me to this bar with other men,To justify, though against double laws,Waving the subtle business of his cause ,The glorious Perkin, and thy poet's art ,Equal with his in playing the king's part.RA. EURE, baronis primogenitus.¹To my Friend and Kinsman, Master John Ford, theAuthor.Dramatic poets, as the times go now,Can hardly write what others will allow;The cynic snarls, the critic howls and barks ,And ravens croak to drown the voice of larks:Scorn those stage- harpies! This I'll boldly say,Many may imitate , few match thy play.1 The son of William, Lord Eure.JOHN FORD, Graiensis.22 This is the cousin to whom Ford dedicated Love's Sacrifice.!To the Rightly HonourableWILLIAM CAVENDISH,EARL OF NEWCASTLE, VISCOUNT MANSFIELD, LORDBOLSOVER AND OGLE.1My Lord,UT of the darkness ofa former age,- -enlightened by a late both learned and anhonourable pen,2-I have endeavouredto personatea great attempt, and in ita greater danger. In other laboursyou may read actions of antiquity discoursed; in this abridgment find theactors themselves discoursing, in some kind practised aswell what to speak as speaking why to do. Your lordshipisa most competent judge in expressions of such credit

commissioned by your known ability in examining, andenabled by your knowledge in determining, the monumentsof time. Eminent titles may, indeed, inform who theirowners are, not often what. To yours the addition of thatinformation in both cannot in any application be observedflattery, the authority being established by truth.I canonly acknowledge the errors in writing mine own

the

worthiness of the subject written beinga perfection in thestory and of it. The custom of your lordship's entertainments-even to strangers-is rather an example than afashion in which considerationI dare not professacuriosity

but am only studious that your lordship will

please, amongst such as best honour your goodness, toadmit into your noble construction JOHN FORD.1 William Cavendish(nephew to the first Earl of Devonshire),was born in the year 1592, and was early in favour with James1.He continued in favour with Charles I., and engaged on the Royalist side during the civil war. He was created Duke ofNewcastle in 1665, and died in 1676, at the advanced age of 84.2 i.e. That of Lord Bacon,PROLOGUESTUDIES have of this nature been of lateSo out offashion, so unfollowed, thatIt is become more justice to reviveThe antic follies of the times than striveTo countenance wise industry: no wantOf art doth render wit or lame or scantOr slothful in the purchase of fresh bays;But want of truth in them who give the praiseTo their self-love, presuming to out-doThe writer, or-for need--the actors too.But such this author's silence best befits,Who bids them be in love with their own wits.From him to clearer judgments we can sayHe shows a history couched in a play;A history of noble mention , known ,Famous, and true; most noble, ' cause our own;Not forged from Italy, from France, from Spain,But chronicled at home; as rich in strainOfbrave attempts as ever fertile rageIn action could beget to grace the stage.We cannot limit scenes, for the whole landItself appeared too narrow to withstandCompetitors for kingdoms; nor is hereUnnecessary mirth forced to endearA multitude: on these two rests the fateOf worthy expectation, -truth and state.DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.HENRY VII.Lord DAWBENEY.Sir WILLIAM STANLEY, Lord Chamberlain,Earl of OXFORD .Earl of SURREY.Fox, Bishop of Durham.URSWICK, Chaplain to the King.Sir ROBERT CLIFFORD.LAMBERT SIMNEL.HIALAS, a Spanish Agent.JAMES IV. , King of Scotland.Earl of HUNTLEY,Earl of CRAWFORD.Lord DALYELL.MARCHMONT, a Herald.PERKIN WARBECK.STEPHEN FRION, his Secretary.JOHN A-WATER, Mayor of Cork.HERON, a Mercer.SKELTON, a Tailor.ASTLEY, a Scrivener.Sheriff, Constable , Officers , Messenger, Guards,Soldiers, Masquers, and Attendants.Lady KATHERINE GORDON.Countess of CRAWFORD.JANE DOUGLAS, Lady Katherine's attendant.SCENE-Partly in ENGLAND, partly in SCOTLAND 3000PERKIN WARBECK.ACT THE FIRST.SCENE I.- Westminster. The royal Presence- chamber.Enter King HENRY, supported to the throne bythe Bishopof DURHAM and Sir WILLIAM STANLEY; Earls ofOXFORD and SURREY, and Lord DAWBENEY. AGuard.ING HEN. Still to be haunted, stillto be pursued,Still to be frightened with false apparitionsOf pageant majesty and new-coinedgreatness,As if we were a mockery king in state,Only ordained to lavish sweat and blood,In scorn and laughter, to the ghosts of York,Is all below our merits: ¹ yet, my lords,My friends and counsellors, yet we sit fastIn our own royal birthright; the rent face1 "At this time the king began again to be haunted with sprites by the magic and curious arts ofthe Lady Margaret, who raised up the ghost of Richard, Duke of York, second son to King Edward the Fourth, to walk and vex the king," &c. -Bacon's Henry VII.384 PERKIN WARBECK. [ACT I.And bleeding wounds of England's slaughtered peopleHave been by us as by the best physician,At last both throughly cured and set in safety;And yet, for all this glorious work of peace,Ourselves is scarce secure.Dur. The rage of maliceConjures fresh spirits with the spells of York.For ninety years ten English kings and princes,Threescore great dukes and earls, a thousand lordsAnd valiant knights, two hundred fifty thousandOf English subjects have in civil warsBeen sacrificed to an uncivil thirstOf discord and ambition: this hot vengeanceOf the just powers above to utter ruinAnd desolation had rained on, but thatMercy did gently sheathe the sword of justice,In lending to this blood- shrunk commonwealthA new soul, new birth, in your sacred person.Daw. Edward the Fourth, after a doubtful fortune,Yielded to nature, leaving to his sons,Edward and Richard, the inheritanceOf a most bloody purchase: these young princes,Richard the tyrant, their unnatural uncle,Forced to a violent grave: ---so just is Heaven,Him hath your majesty by your own arm,Divinely strengthened, pulled from his boar's sty,'And struck the black usurper to a carcass.Nor doth the house of York decay in honours,Though Lancaster doth repossess his right;For Edward's daughter is King Henry's queen, -Ablessèd union, and a lasting blessingFor this poor panting island, if some shreds,Some useless remnant of the house of YorkGrudge not at this content.Oxf.Blows fresh coals of division.Margaret of Burgundy1 An allusion to the armorial bearings of Richard III ,SCENE 1. ] PERKIN WARBECK. 385Sur. Painted fires,Without or heat to scorch or light to cherish.Daw. York's headless trunk, her father; Edward'sfate,Her brother, king; the smothering of her nephewsBy tyrant Gloster, brother to her nature;'Nor Gloster's own confusion, -all decreesSacred in heaven, - can move this woman-monster,But that she still , from the unbottomed mineOf devilish policies, doth vent the oreOf troubles and sedition.Oxf.In her ageGreat sir, observe the wonder 1 -she grows fruitful,Who in her strength of youth was always barren:Nor are her births as other mothers' are,At nine or ten months' end; she has been with childEight, or seven years at least; whose twins being born, -Aprodigy in nature, --even the youngestIs fifteen years of age at his first entrance,As soon as known i ' the world; tall striplings , strongAnd able to give battle unto kings,Idols of Yorkish malice.Daw. And but idols;A steely hammer crushes ' em to pieces.K. Hen. Lambert, the eldest, lords, is in our service,Preferred by an officious care of dutyFrom the scullery to a falconer; 2 strange example!Which shows the difference between noble naturesAnd the base-born: but for the upstart duke,1 "It is the strangest thing in the world, " said Henry's ambas- sador to the archduke, " that the Lady Margaret should now, when she is old, at the time when other women give- over child-bearing,bring forth two such monsters, being not the births of nine or ten months, but of many years. And whereas other natural mothersI ring forth children weak and not able to help themselves, she bringeth forth tall striplings, able soon after their coming into the world to bid battle to mighty kings.'""2 Lambert Simnel, taken prisoner at the battle of Newark, had been made a turnspit in the king's kitchen, and was afterwards pro- moted to the office of under-falconer.Ford. CC386 PERKIN WARBECK LACT I. .The new-revived York, Edward's second son,Murdered long since i' the Tower, --he lives again,And vows to be your king.Stan. The throne is filled, sir.K. Hen. True, Stanley; and the lawful heir sits on it:A guard of angels and the holy prayersOf loyal subjects are a sure defenceAgainst all force and council of intrusion.--But now, my lords, put case, some of our nobles,Our great ones, should give countenance and courageTo trim Duke Perkin; you will all confessOur bounties have unthriftily been scatteredAmongst unthankful men.Daw.Dogs, villains, traitors!K. Hen.Unthankful beasts,Dawbeney, let the guiltyKeep silence; I accuse none, though I knowForeign attempts against a state and kingdomAre seldom without some great friends at home.Stan. Sir, if no other abler reasons elseOf duty or allegiance could divertA headstrong resolution, yet the dangersSo lately passed by men of blood and fortunesIn Lambert Simnel's party must commandMore than a fear, a terror to conspiracy.The high-born Lincoln, son to De la Pole,The Earl of Kildare, -the Lord Geraldine, -Francis Lord Lovell, and the German baronBold Martin Swart, with Broughton and the rest, —Most spectacles of ruin, some of mercy, -Are precedents sufficient to forewarnThe present times, or any that live in them,What folly, nay, what madness, ' twere to liftAfinger up in all defence but yours,Which can be but imposturous in a title.K. Hen. Stanley, we know thou lov'st us, and thy heartIs figured on thy tongue; nor think we less1SCENE I. ] PERKIN WARBECK. 387Ofany's here. How closely we have huntedThis cub, since he unlodged, from hole to hole,Your knowledge is our chronicle: first Ireland,The common stage of novelty, presentedThis gewgaw to oppose us; there the GeraldinesAnd Butlers once again stood in supportOf this colossic statue: Charles of FranceThence called him into his protection,Dissembled him the lawful heir of England;Yet this was all but French dissimulation,Aiming at peace with us; which being grantedOn honourable terms on our part, suddenlyThis smoke of straw was packed from France again,T' infect some grosser air: and now we learn—Maugre the malice of the bastard Nevill,Sir Taylor, and a hundred English rebels—They're all retired to Flanders, to the damThat nursed this eager whelp, Margaret of Burgundy.But we will hunt him there too; we will hunt him,Hunt him to death, even in the beldam's closet,Thoughthe archduke were his buckler!Sur."The fair white rose of England. "Daw.She has styled himJolly gentleman!More fit to be a swabber to the FlemishAfter a drunken surfeit.Enter URSWICK with a paper.Urs.Gracious sovereign,Please you peruse this paper. [The King reads.Dur. The king's countenanceDaw. Good news; believe it.Gathers a sprightly blood.K. Hen. Urswick, thine ear. Thou'st lodged him?Urs.Strongly safe, sir.1 Christopher Urswick was at this time almoner to the king. Hepossessed several high offices in the Church.1388 PERKINWARBECK.[ACT I.K. Hen. Enough: -is Barley come too?Urs.No, my lord.K. Hen. No matter-phew! he's but a running weed ,At pleasure to be plucked-up by the roots:But more of this anon. -I have bethought me,My lords , for reasons which you shall partake,It is our pleasure to remove our courtFrom Westminster to the Tower: we will lodgeThis very night there; give, Lord Chamberlain,A present order for ' t.Stan. [Aside]The Tower! —I shall, sir.K. Hẹn. Come, my true, best, fast friends: these cloudswill vanish,The sun will shine at full; the heavens are clearing.[Flourish. Exeunt.SCENE II. —Edinburgh. An Apartment in the Earl ofHUNTLEY'S House.Enter Earl of HUNTLEY and Lord DALYELL.Hunt. You trifle time, sir.D'al.O, my noble lord,You construe my griefs to so hard a sense,That where the text is argument of pity,Matter of earnest love, your gloss corrupts itWith too much ill-placed mirth.Hunt. Much mirth Lord Dalyell;¹Not so, I vow. Observe me, sprightly gallant.I know thou art a noble lad, a handsome,Descended from an honourable ancestry,Forward and active, dost resolve to wrestleAnd ruffle in the world by noble actionsFor a brave mention to posterity:1 There were two persons of the name of Dalzell, William andRobert, grandsons of Sir John Dalzell,SCENE II.] 389 PERKIN WARBECK.I scorn not thy affection to my daughter,Not I , by good Saint Andrew; but this bugbcar,This whor*son tale of honour,-honour, Dalyell!-So hourly chats and tattles in mine earThe piece of royalty that is stitched- upIn my Kate's blood, ' that ' tis as dangerousFor thee, young lord, to perch so near an cagletAs foolish for my gravity to admit it:I have spoke all at once.Dal. Sir, with this truthYou mix such wormwood, that you leave no hopeFor my disordered palate e'er to relishAwholesome taste again: alas, I know, sir,What an unequal distance lies betweenGreat Huntley's daughter's birth and Dalyell's fortunes;She's the king's kinswoman, placed near the crown,A princess ofthe blood, and I a subject.Hunt. Right; but a noble subject; put in that too.Dal. I could add more; and in the rightest lineDerive my pedigree from Adam Mure,A Scottish knight; whose daughter was the motherTo him who first begot the race of Jameses,That sway the sceptre to this very day.But kindreds are not ours when once the dateOfmany years have swallowed up the memoryOf their originals; so pasture-fieldsNeighbouring too near the ocean are swooped-up,And known no more; for stood I in my firstAnd native greatness, if my princely mistressVouchsafed me not her servant, ' twere as goodI were reduced to clownery, to nothing,As to a throne of wonder.Hunt. [Aside] Now, by Saint Andrew,A spark of mettle! he has a brave fire in him:I would he had my daughter, so I knew't not.But ' t must not be so, must not. -Well, young lord,1 The Earl of Huntley married Annabella, daughter ofJames I.•390 PERKIN WARBECK. [ACT I.This will not do yet: if the girl be headstrong,And will not hearken to good counsel, steal her,And run away with her; dance galliards , ¹ do ,And frisk about the world to learn the languages:'Twill be a thriving trade; you may set up by't.Dal. With pardon, noble Gordon, this disdainSuits not your daughter's virtue or my constancy.Hunt. You're angry.-[Aside] Would he would beatme, I deserve it.-Dalyell, thy hand; we're friends: follow thy courtship,Take thine own time and speak; if thou prevail'stWith passion more than I can with my counsel,She's thine; nay, she is thine: ' tis a fair match,Free and allowed. I'll only use my tongue,Without a father's power; use thou thine:Self do, self have: no more words; win and wear her.Dal. You bless me; I am now too poor in thanksTo pay the debt I owe you.Hunt.Nay, thou'rt poorEnough. [Aside] I love his spirit infinitely.—Look ye, she comes to her now, to her, to her!Enter Lady KATHERINE and JANE.Kath. The king commands your presence, sir.Hunt. The gallantThis, this, this lord, this servant, Kate, of yours,Desires to be your master.Kath.A worthy friend of mine.Dal.I acknowledge him.Your humblest creature.Hunt. [Aside] So, so! the game's a-foot; I'm in coldhunting;The hare and hounds are parties.Dal. Princely lady,How most unworthy I am to employMy services in honour of your virtues,1 Quick and lively dances.SCENE II.]391 PERKIN WARBECK.How hopeless my desires are to enjoyYour fair opinion, and much more your love, -Are only matter of despair, unlessYour goodness give large warrant to my boldness,My feeble-winged ambition.Hunt. [Aside]This is scurvy.Indeed!Kath. My lord, I interrupt you not.Hunt. [Aside]Now, on my life, she'll court him. -Nay, nay, on, sir.Dal. Oft have I tuned the lesson of my sorrowsTo sweeten discord and enrich your pity;But all in vain: here had my comforts sunk,And never risen again to tell a storyHe means me, sure.Of the despairing lover, had not now,Even now, the earl your father—Hunt. [Aside]Dal. After some fit disputes of your condition,Your highness and my 'lowness, given a licenseWhich did not more embolden than encourageMy faulting tongue.Hunt. How, how? how's that? embolden!Encourage! I encourage ye! d'ye hear, sir?—A subtle trick, a quaint one: —will you hear, man?What did I say to you? come, come, to the point.Kath. It shall not need, my lord.Then hear me, Kate.— Hunt.Keep you on that hand of her, I on this.—Thou stand'st between a father and a suitor,Both striving for an interest in thy heart:He courts thee for affection , I for duty;He as a servant pleads, but by the privilegeOf nature though I might command, my careShall only counsel what it shall not force.Thou canst but make one choice; the ties of marriageAre tenures not at will, but during life.Consider whose thou art, and who; a princess,A princess of the royal blood of Scotland,392 PERKIN WARBECK [ACT 1 . .In the full spring of youth and fresh in beauty.The king that sits upon the throne is young,And yet unmarried, forward in attemptsOn any least occasion to endangerHis person: wherefore, Kate, as I am confidentThou dar'st not wrong thy birth and educationBy yielding to a common servile rageOf female wantonness, so I am confidentThou wilt proportion all thy thoughts to side¹Thy equals, if not equal thy superiors.My Lord of Dalyell, young in years, is oldIn honours, but nor eminent in titlesNor in estate, that may support or add toThe expectation of thy fortunes. SettleThy will and reason by a strength of judgment;For, in a word, I give thee freedom; take it.If equal fates have not ordained to pitchThy hopes above my height, let not thy passionLead thee to shrink mine honour in oblivion:Thou art thine own; I have done.Dal. O, you're all oracle,The living stock and root of truth and wisdom!Kath. My worthiest lord and father, the indulgenceOfyour sweet composition thus commandsThe lowest of obedience; you have grantedAliberty so large, that I want skillTo choose without direction of example:From which I daily learn , by how much moreYou take off from the roughness of a father,By so much more I am engaged to tenderThe duty of a daughter. For respectsOf birth, degrees of title, and advancement,I nor admire nor slight them; all my studiesShall ever aim at this perfection only,To live and die so, that you may not blushIn any course of mine to own me yours.1 i.e. Keep pace with.3SCENE II. ]393 PERKIN WARBECK.Hunt. Kate, Kate, thou grow'st upon my heart likeCreating every other hour a jubilee.Kath. To you, my lord of Dalyell, I addressSome few remaining words: the general fameThat speaks your merit, even in vulgar tonguesProclaims it clear; but in the best, a precedent.Hunt. Good wench, good girl, i ' faith!Kath.[peace,For my part, trust me,I value mine own worth at higher rate'Cause you are pleased to prize it: if the streamOf your protested service -as you term it—Run in a constancy more than a compliment,It shall be my delight that worthy loveLeads you to worthy actions, and these guide yeRichly to wed an honourable name:So every virtuous praise in after- agesShall be your heir, and I in your brave mentionBe chronicled the mother of that issue,That glorious issue.Hunt. O, that I were young again!Sh'd make me court proud danger, and suck spiritFrom reputation.Kath. To the present motionHere's all that I dare answer: when a ripenessOf more experience, and some use of time,Resolves to treat the freedom of my youth.Upon exchange of troths, I shall desireNo surer credit of a match with virtueThan such as lives in you: mean time my hopes arePreserved secure in having you a friend.Dal. You are a blessèd lady, and instructAmbition not to soar a farther flightThan in the perfumed air of your soft voice.My noble Lord of Huntley, you have lentAfull extent of bounty to this parley;And for it shall command your humblest servant.Hunt. Enough: we are still friends, and will continue394 PERKIN WARBECK. [ACT I.A hearty love. -O, Kate, thou art mine own! --No more:-my Lord of Crawford.Craw.Enter Earl of CRAWFORD.I come, my Lord of Huntley, who in councilRequires your present aid.Hunt.From the kingSome weighty business?Craw. A secretary from a Duke of York,The second son to the late English Edward,Concealed, I know not where, these fourteen years,Craves audience from our master; and ' tis saidThe duke himself is following to the court.Hunt. Duke upon duke; 'tis well, ' tis well; here'sbustlingFor majesty. My lord, I will along with ye.-Craw. My service, noble lady!Kath. Please ye walk, sir?Dal. [Aside] Times have their changes; sorrow makesmen wise;The sun itself must set as well as rise;Then, why not I?-Fair madam, I wait on ye.[Exeunt.SCENE III .-London. An Apartment in the Tower.Enter the Bishop of DURHAM, Sir ROBERT CLIFFORD, andURSWICK. Lights.Dur. You find, Sir Robert Clifford, how securelyKing Henry, our great master, doth commitHis person to your loyalty; you tasteHis bounty and his mercy even in this ,That at a time of night so late, a placeSo private as his closet, he is pleasedT' admit you to his favour. Do not falterIn your discovery; but as you covet&SCENE III . ] PERKIN WARBECK. 395A liberal grace, and pardon for your follies,So labour to deserve ' t by laying openAll plots, all persons that contrive against it.Urs. Remember not the witchcraft or the magic,The charms and incantations, which the sorceressOf Burgundy hath cast upon your reason:Sir Robert, be your own friend now, dischargeYour conscience freely; all of such as love youStand sureties for your honesty and truth.Take heed you do not dally with the king;He's wise as he is gentle.Clif.If Henry be not merciful.Urs.I am miserable,The king comes.Enter King HENRY.K. Hen. Clifford!Clif. [Kneels] Let my weak knees root on the earth,If I appear as leperous in my treacheriesBefore your royal eyes, as to mine ownI seem a monster by my breach of truth.K. Hen. Clifford, stand up; for instance of thy safety,I offer thee my hand.Clif. A sovereign balmFor my bruised soul, I kiss it with a greediness.[Kisses the King's hand, and rises.Tell me,Sir, you're a just master, but I—K. Hen.Is every circ*mstance thou hast set downWith thine own hand within this paper true?Is it a sure intelligence of allThe progress of our enemies' intentsWithout corruption?Clif. True, as I wish Heaven,Or my infected honour white again.K. Hen. We know all, Clifford , fully, since this meteor,This airy apparition first discradled1396 PERKIN WARBECK [ACT I. .From Tournay into Portugal, and thenceAdvanced his fiery blaze for adorationTo the superstitious Irish; since the beardOf this wild comet, conjured into France,Sparkled in antic flames in Charles his court;But shrunk again from thence, and, hid in darkness,Stole into Flanders flourishing the ragOfpainted power on the shore of Kent,Whence he was beaten back with shame and scorn, ¹Contempt, and slaughter of some naked outlaws:But tell me what new course now shapes Duke Perkin?Clif. For Ireland, mighty Henry; so instructedBy Stephen Frion, sometimes secretaryIn the French tongue unto your sacred excellence,But Perkin's tutor now.K. Hen. A subtle villain,That Frion, Frion, -You, my Lord of Durham,Knew well the man.Dur. French both in heart and actions.K. Hen. Some Irish heads work in this mine of treason;Speak ' em.Clif. Not any ofthe best; your fortuneHath dulled their spleens. Never had counterfeitSuch a confusèd rabble of lost bankruptsFor counsellors: first Heron, a broken mercer,Then John a-Water, sometimes Mayor of Cork,Skelton a tailor, and a scrivenerCalled Astley: and whate'er these list to treat of,Perkin must hearken to; but Frion, cunningAbove these dull capacities, still prompts himTo fly to Scotland to young James the Fourth.1 Perkin did not land but sent some of his followers on shore atSandwich; they were defeated by the Kentish men . The prisoners,mostly foreigners, were executed, " some of them at London andWapping, and the rest at divers places upon the seacoast of Kent,Sussex, and Norfolk, for sea-marks or lighthouses to teach Perkin's people to avoid the coast. "-Bacon.2 An active agent in the hands of the duch*ess of Burgundy.SCENE III. ] PERKIN WARBECK. 397And sue for aid to him: this is the latestOf all their resolutions.K. Hen. Still more Frion!Pestilent adder, he will hiss- out poisonAs dangerous as infectious: we must match him.Clifford, thou hast spoke home; we give thee life:But, Clifford , there are people of our ownRemain behind untold; who are they, Clifford?Name those, and we are friends, and will to rest;'Tis thy last task.Clif.The first in rankO, sir, here I must breakA most unlawful oath to keep a just one.K. Hen. Well, well, be brief, be brief.Clif.Shall be John Ratcliffe, Lord Fitzwater, thenSir Simon Mountford and Sir Thomas Thwaites,With William Dawbeney, Chessoner, Astwood,Worseley the Dean of Paul's, two other friars,And Robert Ratcliffe.¹K. Hen.These are the principal?Clif.Churchmen are turned devils.One more remainsUnnamed, whom I could willingly forget.K. Hen. Ha, Clifford one more?Clif.Great sir, do not hear him;For when Sir William Stanley, your lord chamberlain,Shall come into the list, as he is chief,I shall lose credit with ye; yet this lordLast named is first against you.K. Hen.View well my face, sirs; is thereDur. You alter strangely, sir.K. Hen.Urswick, the light!-blood left in it?Alter, lord bishop!Why, Clifford stabbed me, or I dreamed he stabbedme.-1 All these except Worseley and the two Dominicans, perished on the scaffold.A398 PERKIN WARBECK. [ACT I.1Sirrah, it is a custom with the guiltyTo think they set their own stains oft by layingAspersions on some nobler than themselves;Lies wait on treasons, as I find it here.Thy life again is forfeit; I recallMy word of mercy, for I know thou dar'stRepeat the name no more.Clif. I dare, and once more,Upon my knowledge, name Sir William StanleyBoth in his counsel and his purse the chiefAssistant to the feignèd Duke of York.Dur. Most strange!Urs.K. Hen.Most wicked!Yet again, once more.Clif. Sir William Stanley is your secret enemy,And, if time fit, will openly profess it.K. Hen. Sir William Stanley! Who? Sir WilliamStanley!My chamberlain, my counsellor, the love,The pleasure of my court, my bosom-friend,The charge and the controlment of my person,The keys and secrets of my treasury,The all of all I am! I am unhappy.Misery of confidence, -let me turn traitorTo mine own person, yield my sceptre upTo Edward's sister and her bastard duke!Dur. You lose your constant temper.K. Hen. Sir William Stanley!O, do not blame me; he, ' twas only he,Who, having rescued me in Bosworth-fieldFrom Richard's bloody sword, snatched from his headThe kingly crown, and placed it first on mine.He never failed me: what have I deservedTo lose this good man's heart, or he his own?Urs. The night doth waste; this passion ill becomesye;Provide against your danger.SCENE III. ] PERKIN WARBECK. 399K. Hen Let it be so. .Urswick, command straight Stanley to his chamber; —'Tis well we are i ' the Tower; -set a guard on him.—Clifford, to bed; you must lodge here to-night;We'll talk with you to- morrow. -My sad soulDivines strange troubles.Daw. [Within]I must have entrance.K. Hen.Ho! the king, the king!Dawbeney's voice; admit him.What new combustions huddle next, to keepOur eyes from rest?Enter Lord DAWBENEY.Daw.The news?Ten thousand Cornish,Grudging to pay your subsidies, have gatheredA head; led by a blacksmith and a lawyer,They make for London, and to them is joinedLord Audley as they march, their number dailyIncreases; they areK. Hen. Rascals!-talk no more;Such are not worthy of my thoughts to- night.To bed; and if I cannot sleep, I'll wake.—When counsels fail, and there's in man no trust,Even then an arm from Heaven fights for the just.[Exeunt.•ACT THE SECOND.SCENE I.-Edinburgh. The Presence-chamber in thePalace.Enter above the Countess of CRAWFORD, Lady KATHERINE, JANE DOUGLAS, and other Ladies.COUNTESS OF C. Come, ladies, here'sa solemn preparationFor entertainment of this Englishprince;The king intends grace more thanordinary:'Twere pity now if he should prove a counterfeit.Kath. Bless the young man, our nation would belaughed atFor honest souls through Christendom! My fatherHath a weak stomach to the business, madam,But that the king must not be crossed.Countess of C. He bringsAgoodly troop, they say, of gallants with him;But very modest people, for they strive notTo fame their names too much; their godfathersMay be beholding to them, but their fathersScarce owe them thanks: they are disguisèd princes,Brought up, it seems, to honest trades; no matter,They will break forth in season.Jane.For most of ' em are broken by report.-Or break out;[Aflourish.The king!Kath. Let us observe ' em and be silent.SCENE I. ] PERKIN WARBECK. 401Enter King JAMES, Earls of HUNTLEY and Crawford,Lord DALYELL, and other Noblemen.K. Ja. The right of kings, my lords, extends not onlyTo the safe conservation of their own,But also to the aid of such alliesAs change of time and state hath oftentimesHurled down from careful crowns to undergoAn exercise of sufferance in both fortunes:So English Richard, surnamed Coeur- de-Lion,So Robert Bruce, our royal ancestor,Forced by the trial of the wrongs they felt,Both sought and found supplies from foreign kings,To repossess their own. Then grudge not, lords,A much distressèd prince: King Charles of FranceAnd Maximilian of Bohemia bothHave ratified his credit by their letters;Shall we, then, be distrustful? No; compassionIs one rich jewel that shines in our crown,And we will have it shine there.Hunt. Do your will, sir.K.Ja. The young duke is at hand: Dalyell, from usFirst greet him, and conduct him on; then CrawfordShall meet him next; and Huntley, last of all,Present him to our arms. [ Exit Lord DALYELL. ] -Sound sprightly music,Whilst majesty encounters majesty. [Hautboys.Re-enter Lord DALYELL with PERKIN WARBECK, followedat a distance by FRION, HERON, SKELTON, Astley,and JOHN A-Water. The Earl of CRAWFORD advances, and salutes PERKIN at the door, andafterwardsthe Earl ofHUNTLEY, who presents him to the King: theyembrace; the Noblemen slightly salute his Followers.War. Most high, most mighty king! ' that now therestands1 In Bacon this speech begins thus: " High and mighty king!your grace, and these your nobles here present, may be pleasedFord. D D1PERKIN WARBECK. [ACT II.402Before your eyes, in presence of your peers,A subject of the rarest kind of pityThat hath in any age touched noble hearts,The vulgar story of a prince's ruinHath made it too apparent: Europe knows,And all the western world, what persecutionHath raged in malice against us, sole heirTo the great throne of old Plantagenets.Howfrom our nursery we have been hurriedUnto the sanctuary, from the sanctuaryForced to the prison, from the prison haledBy cruel hands to the tormentor's fury ,Is registered already in the volume Of all men's tongues; whose true relation drawsCompassion, melted into weeping eyes And bleeding souls: but our misfortunes sinceHave ranged a larger progress through strange lands,Protected in our innocence by Heaven.Edward the Fifth, our brother, in his tragedy Quenched their hot thirst of blood, whose hire to murderPaid them their wages of despair and horror;The softness of mychildhood smiled upon The roughness of their task, and robbed them fartherOf hearts to dare, or hands to execute. Great king, they spared my life , the butchers spared it;Returned the tyrant, my unnatural uncle,A truth of my dispatch: I was conveyedWith secrecy and speed to Tournay; fosteredBy obscure means, taught to unlearn myself:But as I in I grew in sense grew years,Of fear and of disdain; fear of the tyrant Whose power swayed the throne then: when disdainOf living so unknown, in such a servilebenignly to bow your ears to hear the tragedy of a young man You see here before you the tossed spectaclefromof amisery Plantagenet to misery , who. hath been carried from the nursery to the sanctuary, from the sanctuary to the direful prison, from theprison to the hand of the cruel tormentor, " &c.SCENE I. ] PERKIN WARBECK. 403And abject lowness, prompted me to thoughtsOf recollecting who I was, I shook offMy bondage, and made haste to let my auntOfBurgundy acknowledge me her kinsman,Heir to the crown of England, snatched by HenryFrom Richard's head; a thing scarce known i' the world.K. Ja. My lord, it stands not with your counsel nowTo fly upon invectives: if you canMake this apparent what you have discoursedIn every circ*mstance, we will not studyAn answer, but are ready in your cause.War. You are a wise and just king, by the powersAbove reserved, beyond all other aids,To plant me in mine own inheritance,To marrythese two kingdoms in a loveNever to be divorced while time is time.As for the manner, first of my escape,Of my conveyance next, of my life since,The means and persons who were instruments,Great sir, ' tis fit I over- pass in silence;Reserving the relation to the secrecyOfyour own princely ear, since it concernsSome great ones living yet, and others dead,Whose issue might be questioned. For your bounty,Royal magnificence to him that seeks it,We vow hereafter to demean ourselfAs if we were your own and natural brother,Omitting no occasion in our personT'express a gratitude beyond example.K. Ja. He must be more than subject who can utterThe language of a king, and such is thine.Take this for answer: be what'er thou art,Thou never shalt repent that thou hast putThy cause and person into my protection.Cousin of York, thus once more we embrace thee;Welcome to James of Scotland! for thy safety,Know, such as love thee not shall never wrong thee.404 PERKIN WARBECK [ACT II..Come, we will taste a while our court- delights,Dream hence affliction past, and then proceedTo high attempts of honour. On, lead on! -Both thou and thine are ours, and we will guard ye.—Lead on! [Exeunt all but the Ladies above.Countess of C. I have not seen a gentlemanOf a more brave aspéct or goodlier carriage;His fortunes move not him. —Madam, you're passionate.¹Kath. Beshrew me, but his words have touched mehome,As if his cause concerned me: I should pity him,If he should prove another than he seems.Re-enter Earl of CRAWFORD.Craw. Ladies, the king commands your presence inFor entertainment of the duke.The dukeMust, then, be entertained, the king obeyed;[stantlyKath.It is our duty.Countess of C. We will all wait on him. [Exeunt.SCENE II. -London. The Tower.Aflourish. Enter King HENRY, the Earls of Oxford, andSurrey, and the Bishop of Durham.K. Hen. Have ye condemned my chamberlain?Dur.His treasonsCondemned him, sir; which were as clear and manifestAs foul and dangerous: besides, the guiltOf his conspiracy pressed him so nearly,That it drew from him free confessionWithout an importunity.K. Hen. O, lord bishop,This argued shame and sorrow for his folly,1 Distressed,SCENE II. ] PERKIN WARBECK. 405And must not stand in evidence againstOur mercy and the softness of our nature:The rigour and extremity of lawIs sometimes too - too bitter; but we carryA chancery of pity in our bosom.I hope we may reprieve him from the sentenceOf death; I hope we may.Dur. You may, you may;And so persuade your subjects that the titleOf York is better, nay, more just and lawful,Than yours of Lancaster! so Stanley holds:Which if it be not treason in the highest,Then we are traitors all, perjured and false,Who have took oath to Henry and the justiceOf Henry's title; Oxford, Surrey, Dawbeney,With all your other peers of state and church,Forsworn, and Stanley true alone to HeavenAnd England's lawful heir!Oxf. By Vere's old honours,I'll cut his throat dares speak it.Sur.T' engage a soul in.K. Hen.'Tis a quarrelWhat a coil is hereTo keep my gratitude sincere and perfect!Stanley was once my friend, and came in timeTo save my life; yet, to say truth, my lords,The man stayed long enough t' endanger it:-1But I could see no more into his heartThan what his outward actions did present;And for ' em have rewarded him so fully,As that there wanted nothing in our giftTo gratify his merit, as I thought,Unless I should divide my crown with him,1 “As a little leaven of new distaste doth commonly sour thewhole lump of former merits, the king's wit began now to suggest unto his passion that Stanley at Bosworth- field, though he came time enough to save his life, yet he stayed long enough to endanger it. "-Bacon.1406 PERKINWARBECK.[ACT II.And give him half; though now I well perceive'Twould scarce have served his turn without the whole.But I am charitable, lords; let justiceProceed in execution, whiles I mournThe loss of one whom I esteemed a friend.Dur. Sir, he is coming this way.K. Hen. If he speak to me,I could deny him nothing; to prevent it,I must withdraw. Pray, lords, commend my favoursTo his last peace, which I with him will pray for:That done, it doth concern us to consultOf other following troubles.Oxf. I am gladHe's gone upon my life, he would have pardonedThe traitor, had he seen him.Sur.Composed of gentleness.ButDur."Tis a kingRare and unheard of:every man is nearest to himself;And that the king observes; ' tis fit he should.[Exit.Enter Sir WILLIAM STANLEY, Executioner, Confessor,URSWICK, and Lord DAWBENEY.Stan. May I not speak with Clifford ere I shakeThis piece offrailty off?Daw. You shall; he's sent for.From him, Sir William,Stan. I must not see the king?Dur.These lords and I am sent; he bade us say'That he commends his mercy to your thoughts;Wishing the laws of England could remitThe forfeit of your life as willinglyAs he would in the sweetness of his natureForget your trespass: but howe'er your bodyFall into dust, he vows, the king himselfDoth vow, to keep a requiem for your soul,As for a friend close treasured in his bosom.SCENE II . ] PERKIN WARBECK. 407Oxf. Without remembrance of your errors past,I come to take my leave, and wish you Heaven.Sur. And I; good angels guard ye!Stan. O, the king,Next to my soul, shall be the nearest subjectOf my last prayers. My grave Lord of Durham,My Lords of Oxford, Surrey, Dawbeney, all,Accept from a poor dying man a farewell.I was as you are once, ―great, and stood hopefulOf many flourishing years; but fate and timeHave wheeled about, to turn me into nothing.Daw. SirRobert Clifford comes, -the man, Sir William,You so desire to speak with.Dur. Mark their meeting.Enter Sir ROBERT CLIFFord.Clif. Sir William Stanley, I am glad your conscienceBefore your end hath emptied every burthenWhich charged it, as`that you can clearly witnessHow far I have proceeded in a dutyThat both concerned my truth and the state's safety.Stan. Mercy, how dear is life to such as hug it!Come hither; by this token think on me![Makes a cross on CLIFFORD's face with his finger.Clif. This token! What! I am abused?Stan.I wet upon your cheeks a holy sign , ----You are not.The cross, the Christian's badge, the traitor's infamy:Wear, Clifford, to thy grave this painted emblem;Water shall never wash it off; all eyesThat gaze upon thy face shall read there writtenA state-informer's character; more uglyStamped on a noble name than on a base.The heavens forgive thee! -Pray, my lords, no changeOf words; this man and I have used too many.Clif. Shall I be disgracedWithout reply?408[ACT II.PERKINWARBECK.Dur. Give losers leave to talk;His loss is irrecoverable.Stan. Once more,To all a long farewell! The best of greatnessPreserve the king! My next suit is, my lords,To be remembered to my noble brother,Derby, my much-grieved brother: O, persuade himThat I shall stand no blemish to his houseIn chronicles writ in another age.My heart doth bleed for him and for his sighs:Tell him, he must not think the style of Derby,Nor being husband to King Henry's mother,The league with peers, the smiles of fortune, canSecure his peace above the state of man.I take my leave, to travel to my dust:Subjects deserve their deaths whose kings are just.—Come, confessor. -On with thy axe, friend, on![He is led offto execution.Clif. Was I called hither by a traitor's breathTo be upbraided? Lords, the king shall know it.Re- enter King HENRY with a white staff.K. Hen. The king doth know it, sir; the king hathheardWhat he or you could say. We have given creditTo every point of Clifford's information,The only evidence ' gainst Stanley's head:He dies for't; are you pleased?Clif. I pleased, my lord!K. Hen. No echoes: for your service, we dismissYour more attendance on the court , take ease,And live at home; but, as you love your life,Stir not from London without leave from us.We'll think on your reward: away!Clif.K. Hen. Die all our griefs with Stanley! Take this staffOf office, Dawbeney; henceforth be our chamberlain.I go, sir. [ Exit.SCENE 11. ] PERKIN WARBECK 409 .Daw. I am your humble servant.K. Hen. We are followedBy enemies at home, that will not ceaseTo seek their own confusion: ' tis most trueThe Cornish under Audley are marched onAs far as Winchester; -but let them come,Our forces are in readiness; we'll catch ' emIn their own toils.Daw. Your army, being mustered,Consists in all, of horse and foot, at leastIn number six- and-twenty thousand; menDaring and able, resolute to fight,And loyal in their truths.K. Hen. We know it, Dawbeney:For them we order thus; Oxford in chief,Assisted by bold Essex and the EarlOf Suffolk, shall lead on the first battalia;Be that your charge.Oxf. I humbly thank your majesty.K. Hen. The next division we assign to Dawbeney:These must be men of action, for on thoseThe fortune of our fortunes must rely.The last and main ourself commands in person;As ready to restore the fight at all timesAs to consummate an assurèd victory.Daw. The king is still oraculous.K.Hen. But, Surrey,We have employment of more toil for thee:For our intelligence comes swiftly to us,That James of Scotland late hath entertainedPerkin the counterfeit with more than commonGrace and respect, nay, courts him with rare favours.The Scot is young and forward; we must look forA sudden storm to England from the north;Which to withstand, Durham shall post to Norham,To fortify the castle and secureThe frontiers against an invasion there.

1410 PERKIN WARBECK. [ACT II .Surrey shall follow soon, with such an armyAs may relieve the bishop, and encounterOn all occasions the death-daring Scots.You know your charges all; ' tis now a timeTo execute, not talk: Heaven is our guard still .War must breed peace; such is the fate of kings.[Exeunt.SCENE III. -Edinburgh. An Apartment in the Palace.Enter Earl of CRAWFORD and Lord DALYELL.Craw. 'Tis more than strange; my reason cannotanswerSuch argument of fine imposture, couchedIn witchcraft of persuasion, that it fashionsImpossibilities, as if appearanceCould cozen truth itself: this dukeling mushroomHath doubtless charmed the king.Dal. He courts the ladies,As if his strength of language chained attentionBy power of prerogative.Craw. It maddedMy very soul to hear our master's motion:What surety both of amity and honourMust of necessity ensue uponA match betwixt some noble of our nationAnd this brave prince, forsooth!Dal.Wise Huntley fears the threatening. Bless the ladyFrom such a ruin!Craw.'Twill prove too fatal;How the counsel privyOf this young Phaethon do screw their facesInto a gravity their trades, good people,Were never guilty of! the meanest of ' emDreams of at least an office in the state.SCENE III. ] PERKIN WARBECK. 411Dal. Sure, not the hangman's; ' tis bespoke alreadyFor service to their rogueships--Silence!Enter King JAMES and Earl of HUNTLEY.K.Ja.Do notArgue against our will; we have descendedSomewhat-as we may term it-too familiarlyFrom justice of our birthright, to examineThe force ofyour allegiance, -sir, we have, --But find it short of duty.Hunt. Break my heart,Do, do, king! Have my services , my loyalty, -Heaven knows untainted ever, -drawn upon meContempt now in mine age, when I but wantedA minute of a peace not to be troubled,My last, my long one? Let me be a dotard,A bedlam, a poor sot, or what you pleaseTo have me, so you will not stain your blood,Your own blood, royal sir, though mixed with mine,By marriage of this girl¹ to a straggler: -Take, take my head, sir; whilst my tongue can wag,It cannot name him other.K. Ja.Kings are counterfeitsIn your repute, grave oracle, not presentlySet on their thrones with sceptres in their fists .But use your own detraction; ' tis our pleasureTo give our cousin York for wife our kinswoman,The Lady Katherine: instinct of sovereigntyDesigns the honour, though her peevish fatherUsurps our resolution.Hunt. O, 'tis well,Exceeding well! I never was ambitiousOf using congees to my daughter- queen—1 " To put it out of doubt that he took him (Perkin) to be agreat prince, and not a representation only, he ( King James) gave consent that this duke should take to wife the Lady Katherine Gordon, daughter to the Earl of Huntley, being a near kinswomanto the king himself, and a young virgin of excellent beauty and virtue."-Bacon.412 [ACT II.PERKIN WARBECK.A queen! perhaps a quean! -Forgive me, Dalyell,Thou honourable gentleman;-none hereDare speak one work of comfort?Dal. Cruel misery!Craw. The lady, gracious prince, may- be hath settled Affection on some former choice.Dal.Would prove but tyranny.Hunt.EnforcementI thank ye heartily.Let any yeoman of our nation challengeAn interest in the girl, then the kingMay add a jointure of ascent in titles,Worthy a free consent; now he pulls downWhat old desert hath builded.K. Ja.Cease persuasions.I violate no pawns of faith, intrude notOn private loves: that I have played the oratorFor kingly York to virtuous Kate, her grantCan justify, referring her contentsTo our provision. The Welsh Harry henceforthShall therefore know, and tremble to acknowledge,That not the painted idol of his policyShall fright the lawful owner from a kingdom.We are resolved.Hunt. Some of thy subjects ' hearts,Then shall their bloodsKing James, will bleed for this.K. Ja.Be nobly spent. No more disputes; he is notOur friend who contradicts us.Hunt. Farewell, daughter!My care by one is lessened, thank the king for't:I and my griefs will dance now.Enter PERKIN WARBECK, leading, and complimenting with,Lady KATHERINE; Countess of CRAWFORD, JANEDOUGLAS, FRION, JOHN A-WATER, ASTLEY, HERON,and SKELTON.SCENE III. ]PERKIN WARBECK 413 .སྦྱིན་Look, lords, look;Peace, old frenzy! —Here's hand in hand already!K. Ja.How like a king he looks! Lords, but observeThe confidence of his aspect; dross cannotCleave to so pure a metal-royal youth!Plantagenet undoubted!Hunt. [Aside]But no Plantagenet, by'r lady, yet,By red rose or by white.War.Ho, brave! Youth,An union this waySettles possession in a monarchyEstablished rightly, as is my inheritance:Acknowledge me but sovereign of this kingdom,Your heart, fair princess, and the hand of providenceShall crown you queen of me and my best fortunes.Kath. Where my obedience is, my lord, a dutyLove owes true service.War.K. Ja.Shall I?-Cousin, yes,Enjoy her; from my hand accept your bride;[Hejoins their hands.And may they live at enmity with comfortWho grieve at such an equal pledge of troths! —You are the prince's wife now.Kath. By your gift, sir.I miss yetWar. Thus I take seizure of mine own.Kath.Afather's blessing. Let me find it;-humblyUpon my knees I seek it.Hunt. I'am Huntley,Old Alexander Gordon, a plain subject,Nor more nor less; and, lady, if you wish forA blessing, you must bend your knees to Heaven;For Heaven did give me you. Alas, alas,What would you have me say? May all the happinessMy prayers ever sued to fall upon you414 PERKIN WARBECK [ACT II..Preserve you in your virtues! --Prithee, Dalyell,Come with me; for I feel thy griefs as fullAs mine; let's steal away, and cry together.Dal. My hopes are in their ruins.K. Ja.[Exeunt Earl of HUNTLEY and Lord DALYELL,Good, kind HuntleyIs overjoyed: a fit solemnityShall perfect these delights. -Crawford, attendOur order for the preparation.[Exeunt all but FRION, HERON, SKELTON,JOHN A-WATER, and ASTLEY.Fri. Now, worthy gentlemen, have I not followedMy undertakings with success? Here's entranceInto a certainty above a hope.Her. Hopes are but hopes; I was ever confident,when I traded but in remnants, that my stars had reservedme to the title of a viscount at least: honour is honour,though cut out of any stuffs.¹Skel. My brother Heron hath right wisely deliveredhis opinion; for he that threads his needle with thesharp eyes of industry shall in time go through- stitchwith the new suit of preferment.Ast. Spoken to the purpose, my fine-witted brotherSkelton; for as no indenture but has its counterpane, nonoverint but his condition or defeasance; so no right butmay have claim, no claim but may have possession, anyact of parliament to the contrary notwithstanding.Fri. You are all read in mysteries of state,And quick of apprehension, deep in judgment,Active in resolution; and ' tis pitySuch counsel should lie buried in obscurity.But why, in such a time and cause of triumph,Stands the judicious Mayor of Cork so silent?Believe it, sir, as English Richard prospers,You must not miss employment of high nature.1 Heron, or Herne, as Bacon calls him, was a mercer; Skeltonwas a tailor; and Astley a scrivener: they were all men of broken fortunes. Gifford .SCENE III . ] PERKIN WARBECK 415 ."J. a- Wat. If men may be credited in their mortality,which I dare not peremptorily aver but they may or notbe, presumptions by this marriage are then, in sooth,of fruitful expectation. Or else I must not justify othermen's belief, more than other should rely on mine.Fri. Pith of experience! those that have borne officeWeigh every word before it can drop from them.But, noble counsellors, since now the presentRequires in point of honour, -pray, mistake not, -Some service to our lord, 'tis fit the ScotsShould not engross all glory to themselvesAt this so grand and eminent solemnity.Skel. The Scots! the motion is defied: I had rather,for my part, without trial of my country, suffer persecutionunder the pressing- iron of reproach; or let my skin bepunched full of eyelet-holes with the bodkin of derision.Ast. I will sooner lose both my ears on the pillory offorgery.Her. Let me first live a bankrupt, and die in the lousyHole¹ of hunger, without compounding for sixpence inthe pound.J. a- Wat. If men fail not in their expectations, theremay be spirits also that digest no rude affronts, MasterSecretary Frion, or I am cozened; which is possible, Igrant.Fri. Resolved like men of knowledge: at this feast,then,In honour of the bride, the Scots, I know,Will in some show, some masque, or some device,Prefer their duties: now it were uncomelyThat we be found less forward for our princeThan they are for their lady; and by how muchWe outshine them in persons of account,By so much more will our endeavours meet withA livelier applause. Great emperors1 That part of the Counter prison in which the poorer prisoners were confined ,416 PERKIN WARBECK [ACT II..Have for their recreations undertookSuch kind of pastimes: as for the conceit,Refer it to my study; the performanceYou all shall share a thanks in: 'twill be grateful.Her. The motion is allowed: I have stole to a dancingschool when I was a prentice.Ast. There have been Irish hubbubs, when I havemade one too.Skel. For fashioning of shapes and cutting a crosscaper, turn me off to my trade again.J. a- Wat. Surely there is, if I be not deceived, a kindofgravity in merriment; as there is, or perhaps ought tobe, respect of persons in the quality of carriage, which isas it is construed, either so or so,Fri. Still you come home to me; upon occasionI find you relish courtship with discretion;And such are fit for statesmen of your merits.Pray ye wait the prince, and in his ear acquaint himWith this design; I'll follow and directO, the toilye.[Exeunt all but FRION .Of humouring this abject scum of mankind,Muddy-brained peasants! princes feel a miseryBeyond impartial sufferance, whose extremesMust yield to such abettors:-yet¹ our tideRuns smoothly, without adverse winds: run on!Flow to a full sea! time alone debatesQuarrels forewritten in the book of fates.1 i.e. As yet.[Exit.ACT THE THIRD.SCENE I. Westminster. The Palace.Enter King HENRY, with his gorget on, his sword, plumeoffeathers, and truncheon, followed by URSWICK.HEN. How runs the time of day?Urs. Past ten, my lord.K. Hen. A bloody hour will it prove tosome,Whose disobedience, like the sons o' theearth,Throws a defiance ' gainst the face of heaven.Oxford, with Essex and stout De la Pole,Have quieted the Londoners, I hope,And set them safe from fear.Urs. They are all silent.K. Hen. From their own battlements they may beholdSaint George's-fields o'erspread with armèd men;Amongst whom our own royal standard threatensConfusion to opposers: we must learnTo practise war again in time of peace,Or lay our crown before our subjects' feet;Ha, Urswick, must we not?Urs. The powers who seatedKing Henry on his lawful throne will everRise up in his defence.K. Hen. Rage shall not frightThe bosom of our confidence: in KentFord. EE418PERKINWARBECK[ACT III..Our Cornish rebels, cozened of their hopes,Met brave resistance by that country's earl,George Abergeny, Cobham, Poynings, Guilford,And other loyal hearts; now, if BlackheathMust be reserved the fatal tomb to swallowSuch stiff-necked abjects as with weary marchesHave travelled from theirhomes, their wives, and children,To pay, instead of subsidies, their lives,We may continue sovereign. Yet, Urswick,We'll not abate one penny what in parliamentHath freely been contributed; we must not;Money gives soul to action. Our competitor,The Flemish counterfeit, with James of Scotland,Will prove what courage need and want can nourish,Without the food of fit supplies:-but, Urswick,I have a charm in secret that shall looseThe witchcraft wherewith young King James is bound,And free it at my pleasure without bloodshed.Urs. Your majesty's a wise king, sent from heaven,Protector of the just.K. Hen. Let dinner cheerfullyBe served in; this day of the week is ours,Our day of providence; for SaturdayYet never failed in all my undertakingsTo yield me rest at night. [Aflourish. ]-What meansthis warning?Good fate, speak peace to Henry!Enter Lord DAWBENEY, Earl of OXFORD, and Attendants.Daw. Live the king,Triumphant in the ruin of his enemies!Oxf. The head of strong rebellion is cut off,The body hewed in pieces.K. Hen. Dawbeney, Oxford,Minions to noblest fortunes, how yet standsThe comfort of your wishes?Daw.Briefly thus:SCENE 1. ] ´PERKIN WARBECK 419 .The Cornish under Audley, disappointedOfflattered expectation, from the KentishYour majesty's right-trusty liegemen—flew,Feathered by rage and heartened by presumption,To take the field even at your palace- gates,And face you in your chamber-royal: arroganceImproved their ignorance; for they, supposing,Misled by rumour, that the day of battleShould fall on Monday, rather braved your forcesThan doubted any onset; yet this morning,When in the dawning I, by your direction,Strove to get Deptford- strand bridge, there I foundSuch a resistance as might show what strengthCould make here arrows hailed in showers upon usAfull yard long at least; but we prevailed.My Lord of Oxford, with his fellow peersEnvironing the hill, fell fiercely on themOn the one side, I on the other, till, great sir, -Pardon the oversight, -eager of doingSome memorable act, I was engagedAlmost a prisoner, but was freed as soonAs sensible of danger: now the fightBegan in heat, which quenched in the blood ofTwo thousand rebels, and as many moreReserved to try your mercy, have returnedA victory with safety.K. Hen. Have we lostIn the totalAn equal number with them?Oxf.Scarcely four hundred. Audley, Flammock, Joseph,The ringleaders of this commotion,Railèd¹ in ropes, fit ornaments for traitors,Wait your determinations.1 As the R is very indistinct, I should have been inclined, perhaps, to make " Haled " out of it, had I not found the expressionin Bacon; "they were brought to London all railed in ropes, like a team of horses in a cart." -Gifford.420 PERKIN WARBECK. [ACT III .K. Hen. We must payOur thanks where they are only due: O, lords,Here is no victory, nor shall our peopleConceive that we can triumph in their falls.Alas, poor souls! let such as are escapedSteal to the country back without pursuit:There's not a drop of blood spilt but hath drawnAs much of mine; their swords could have wroughtwondersOn their king's part, who faintly were unsheathedAgainst their prince, but wounded their own breasts.Lords, we are debtors to your care; our paymentShall be both sure and fitting your deserts .Daw. Sir, will you please to see those rebels , headsOf this wild monster-multitude?K. Hen. Dear friend,My faithful Dawbeney, no; on them our justiceMust frown in terror; I will not vouchsafeAn eye of pity to them. Let false AudleyBe drawn upon an hurdle from the NewgateTo Tower-hill in his own coat of armsPainted on paper, with the arms reversed,Defaced and torn; there let him lose his head.¹The lawyer and the blacksmith shall be hanged,Quartered; their quarters into Cornwall sentExamples to the rest, whom we are pleasedTo pardon and dismiss from further quest. ~~-My Lord of Oxford, see it done.Oxf.K. Hen. Urswick!Urs.K. Hen.I shall , sir.My lord?To Dinham, our high- treasurer,Say, we command commissions be new grantedFor the collection of our subsidies1 " The Lord Audley was led from Newgate to Tower-hill, in apaper coat painted with his own arms, the arms reversed, the coat torn, and at Tower-hill beheaded . " -Bacon.SCENE II. ] PERKIN WARBECK. 421Through all the west, and that speedily.—Lords, we acknowledge our engagements dueFor your most constant services.Daw. Your soldiersHave manfully and faithfully acquitted.Their several duties.K. Hen. For it we will throwA largess free amongst them, which shall heartenAnd cherish-up their loyalties. More yetRemains of like employment; not a manCan be dismissed, till enemies abroad,More dangerous than these at home, have feltThe puissance of our arms. O, happy kingsWhose thrones are raised in their subjects' hearts![Exeunt.SCENE II . -Edinburgh. The Palace.Enter Earl of HUNTLEY and Lord DALyell.Hunt. Now, sir, a modest word with you, sad gentleman:Is not this fine, I trow, to see the gambols,To hear the jigs, observe the frisks, be enchantedWith the rare discord of bells, pipes, and tabors,Hotch- potch of Scotch and Irish twingle-twangles,Like to so many quiristers of BedlamTrolling a catch! The feasts, the manly stomachs,The healths in usquebaugh and bonny- clabber, 1The ale in dishes never fetched from China;The hundred- thousand knacks not to be spoken of, —And all this for King Oberon and Queen Mab, —Should put a soul into ye.How youthful I am grownLook ye, good man,but, by your leave,This new queen-bride must henceforth be no more1 A common name for curds-and-whey, or sour buttermilk; afavourite drink both with the Scotch and Irish.422 PERKIN WARBECK. [ACT III.My daughter; no, by'r lady, ' tis unfit:And yet you see how I do bear this change,Methinks courageously: then shake off careIn such a time of jollity.Dal. Alas, sir,How can you cast a mist upon your griefs?Which, howsoe'er you shadow, but presentTo any judging eye the perfect substance,Of which mine are but counterfeits.Hunt. Foh, Dalyell!Thou interrupt'st the part I bear in music.To this rare bridal-feast; let us be merry,Whilst flattering calms secure us against storms:Tempests, when they begin to roar, put outThe light of peace, and cloud the sun's bright eyeIn darkness of despair; yet we are safe.Dal. I wish you could as easily forgetThe justice of your sorrows as my hopesCan yield to destiny.Hunt. Pish! then I seeThou dost not know the flexible conditionOf my apt nature: I can laugh, laugh heartily,When the gout cramps my joints; let but the stoneStop in my bladder, I am straight a- singing;The quartan-fever, shrinking every limb,Sets me a-capering straight; do but betray me,And bind me a friend ever: what! I trustThe losing of a daughter, though I dotedOn every hair that grew to trim her head,Admits not any pain like one of these.Come, thou'rt deceived in me: give me a blow,A sound blow on the face, I'll thank thee for't;I love my wrongs: still thou'rt deceived in me.Dal. Deceived! O, noble Huntley, my few yearsHave learnt experience of too ripe an ageTo forfeit fit credulity: forgiveMy rudeness, I am bold.SCENE II. ] 423 PERKIN WARBECK.Hunt. Forgive me firstA madness of ambition; by exampleTeach me humility, for patience scornsLectures, which schoolmen use to read to boysUncapable of injuries: though old,I could grow tough in fury, and disclaimAllegiance to my king; could fall at oddsWith all my fellow- peers that durst not standDefendants ' gainst the rape done on mine honour:But kings are earthly gods, there is no meddlingWith their anointed bodies; for their actions.They only are accountable to heaven.Yet in the puzzle of my troubled brainOne antidote's reserved against the poisonOf my distractions; ' tis in thee t' apply it.Dal. Name it; O, name it quickly, sir!Hunt.For my most foolish slighting thy deserts;I have culled out this time to beg it: prithee,Be gentle; had I been so, thou hadst ownedA happy bride, but now a castaway,And never child of mine more.Dal.It is not fault in her.Hunt.A pardon VSay not so, sir;靠The world would prateHow she was handsome; young I know she was,Tender, and sweet in her obedience;But lost now what a bankrupt am I madeOf a full stock of blessings! Must I hopeA mercy from thy heart?Dal.Afriendship to posterity.Hunt.A love, a service,Good angelsReward thy charity! I have no moreBut prayers left me now.IfDal.you will be in consort,I'll lend you mirth, sir,养IN424 PERKIN WARBECK. [ACT III.Hunt. Thank you truly:I must; yes, yes, I must; -here's yet some ease,A partner in afflictiom: look not angry.Dal. Good, noble sir! [Flourish.Hunt. O, hark! we may be quiet,The King and all the others come; a meetingOf gaudy sights: this day's the last of revels;To-morrow sounds of war; then new exchange;Fiddles must turn to swords.-Unhappy marriage!Aflourish. Enter King JAMES, PERKIN WARBECK leading Lady KATHERINE, Earl of CRAWFORD and hisCountess; JANE DOUGLAS, and other Ladies. Earlof HUNTLEY and Lord DALYELLfall in among them.K. Ja. Cousin of York, you and your princely brideHave liberally enjoyed such soft delightsAs a new-married couple could forethink;Nor has our bounty shortened expectation:But after all those pleasures of repose,Of amorous safety, we must rouse the easeOf dalliance with achievements of more gloryThan sloth and sleep can furnish: yet, for farewell,Gladly we entertain a truce with time,To grace the joint endeavours of our servants.War. My royal cousin, in your princely favourThe extent of bounty hath been so unlimited ,As only an acknowledgment in wordsWould breed suspicion in our state and quality.When we shall, in the fulness of our fate, —Whose minister, necessity, will perfect, --Sit on our own throne; then our arms, laid openTo gratitude, in sacred memoryOfthese large benefits, shall twine them close,Even to our thoughts and heart, without distinction.Then James and Richard, being in effectOne person, shall unite and rule one people,Divisible in titles only.1SCENE II . ] PERKIN WARBECK. 425K. Ja.Seat ye.-Craw. All are entering.Are the presenters ready?Hunt. Dainty sport toward, Dalyell! sit; come, sit,Sit and be quiet; here are kingly bug's- words! ¹Enter at one door Four Scotch Antics, accordingly habited;at another, WARBECK's followers, disguised as FourWild Irish in trowses, long- haired, and accordinglyhabited. Music. A dance by the Masquers.K. Ja. To all a general thanks!War.Take your own shapes again; you shall receiveParticular acknowledgment.K. Ja.In the next room[ Exeunt the Masquers.EnoughOf merriments. -Crawford, how far's our armyUpon the march?Craw. At Hedon-hall, great king;Twelve thousand, well- prepared.K. Ja.Crawford, to-nightPost thither. We in person, with the prince,By four o'clock to-morrow after dinnerWill be wi' ye; speed away!Craw.K. Ja. Our business grows to head now: where's yoursecretary,That he attends ye not to serve?I fly, my lord.[Exit.War.Your herald.K. Ja.With Marchmont,Good: the proclamation's ready;By that it will appear how the English standAffected to your title. -Huntley, comfortYour daughter in her husband's absence; fightWith prayers at home for us, who for your honoursMust toil in fight abroad.1 Alarming words; " bug " means a hobgoblin.2 Tight-fitting drawers.1!1426PERKINWARBECK.[ACT III.Hunt. Prayers are the weaponsTo rest, young beauties! —Which men so near their graves as I do use;I've little else to do.K. Ja.We must be early stirring; quickly part:A kingdom's rescue craves both speed and art.-Cousins, good-night.War.[Aflourish.Rest to our cousin-king.Kath. Your blessing, sir.Hunt. Fair blessings on your highness! sure, you need' em.[ Exeunt all but WARBECK, Lady KATHERINE,and JANE.War. Jane, set the lights down, and from us returnTo those in the next room this little purse;Say we'll deserve their loves.Jane. It shall be done, sir. [Exit.War. Now, dearest, ere sweet sleep shall seal thoseeyes,Love's precious tapers, give me leave to useA parting ceremony; for to- morrowIt would be sacrilege t' intrude uponThe temple of thy peace: swift as the morningMust I break from the down of thy embraces,To put on steel, and trace the paths which leadThrough various hazards to a careful throne.Kath. My lord, I'd fain go wi' ye; there's small fortuneIn staying here behind.OfWar. The churlish browwar, fair dearest, is a sight of horrorFor ladies' entertainment: if thou hear'stAtruth of my sad ending by the handOf some unnatural subject, thou withalShalt hear how I died worthy of my right,By falling like a king; and in the close,Which my last breath shall sound, thy name, thou fairest,Shall sing a requiem to my soul, unwillingSCENE II. ] PERKIN WARBECK. 427 1Only ofgreater glory, ' cause dividedFrom such a Heaven on earth as life with thee.But these are chimes for funerals: my businessAttends on fortune of a sprightlier triumph;For love and majesty are reconciled,And vow to crown thee empress of the west.Kath. You have a noble language, sir; your rightIn me is without question , and howeverEvents of time may shorten my desertsIn others' pity, yet it shall not staggerOr constancy or duty in a wife.You must be king of me; and my poor heartIs all I can call mine.War. But we will live,Live, beauteous virtue, by the lively testOf our own blood, to let the counterfeitBe known the world's contempt.Kath.That word; it carries fate in't.Pray, do not useThe first suitI ever made, I trust your love will grant.War. Without denial, dearest.Kath.That hereafter,If you return with safety, no adventureMay sever us in tasting any fortune:I ne'er can stay behind again.War. You're ladyOf your desires, and shall command your will;Yet 'tis too hard to promise.Kath. What our destiniesHave ruled-out in their books we must not search,But kneel to .War. Then to fear when hope is fruitless,Were to be desperately miserable;Which poverty our greatness dares not dream of,And much more scorns to stoop to: some few minutesRemain yet; let's be thrifty in our hopes. [Exeunt.428 PERKIN WARBECK. [ACT III.SCENE III. -The Palace at Westminster.Enter King HENRY, HIALAS, and URSWICK.K. Hen. Your name is Pedro Hialas, ¹ a Spaniard?Hial. Sir, a Castilian born.K. Hen. King Ferdinand,With wise Queen Isabel his royal consort,Write ye a man of worthy trust and candour.Princes are dear to heaven who meet with subjectsSincere in their employments; such I findYour commendation, sir. Let me deliverHow joyful I repute the amityWith your most fortunate master, who almostComes near a miracle in his successAgainst the Moors, who had devoured his country,Entire now to his sceptre. We, for our part,Will imitate his providence, in hopeOf partage in the use on't: we reputeThe privacy of his advisem*nt to usBy you, intended an ambassadorTo Scotland, for a peace between our kingdoms,A policy of love, which well becomesHis wisdom and our care.Hial.K. Hen.Your majestyElseDoth understand him rightly.Your knowledge can instruct me; wherein, sir,To fall on ceremony would seem useless,Which shall not need; for I will be as studiousOf your concealment in our conferenceAs any council shall advise.1 66 Amongst these troubles came into England from Spain Peter Hialas, some call him Elias (surely he was the forerunner of the good hap that we enjoy at this day; for his ambassage set the truce between England and Scotland; the truce drew on the peace; the peace the marriage; and the marriage the union of the kingdoms);a man of great wisdom, and, as those times were, not unlearned. '-Bacon.SCENE III . ] PERKIN WARBECK. 429Hial. Then, sir,My chief request is, that on notice givenAt my dispatch in Scotland, you will sendSome learned man of power and experienceTo join entreaty with me.K. Hen. I shall do it,Being that way well provided by a servantWhich may attend ye ever.Hial. If King James,By any indirection , should perceiveMy coming near your court, I doubt the issueOf my employment.K. Hen. Be not your own herald:Good daysI learn sometimes without a teacher.Hial.Guard all your princely thoughts!K. Hen. Urswick, no furtherThan the next open gallery attend him.-A hearty love go with you!Hial. Your vowed beadsman.1[ Exeunt URSWICK and HIALAS.K. Hen. King Ferdinand is not so much a fox,But that a cunning huntsman may in timeFall on the scent: in honourable actionsSafe imitation best deserves a praise.Re-enter URSWICK.What, the Castilian's passed away?Urs.He is,And undiscovered; the two hundred marksYour majesty conveyed, he gently pursedWith a right modest gravity.K. Hen. What was'tHe muttered in the earnest of his wisdom?He spoke not to be heard; ' twas about—¹ Servant; literally one bound to pray for his benefactor.430 PERKINWARBECK. [ACT III.Urs.Warbeck:How if King Henry were but sure of subjects,Such a wild runagate might soon be caged,No great ado withstanding.K. Hen. Nay, nay; somethingAbout my son Prince Arthur's match.Urs.Right, right, sir:He hummed it out, how that King FerdinandSwore that the marriage ' twixt the Lady KatherineHis daughter and the Prince of Wales your sonShould never be consummated as longAs any Earl of Warwick lived in England,Except by new creation.K. Hen.I remember'Twas so, indeed: the king his master swore it?Urs. Directly, as he said.K. Hen.An Earl of Warwick!-Provide a messenger for letters instantlyTo Bishop Fox. Our news from Scotland creeps;It comes so slow, we must have airy spirits;Our time requires dispatch.-[ Aside] The Earl of Warwick!Let him be son to Clarence, younger brotherTo Edward! Edward's daughter is , I think,Mother to our Prince Arthur. -Get a messenger.[Exeunt.SCENE IV. -Before the Castle ofNorham.Enter King JAMES, PERKIN WARBECK, Earl of CRAWFORD, Lord DALYELL, HERON, ASTLEY, JOHN AWATER, SKELTON, and Soldiers.K. Ja. We trifle time against these castle-walls;The English prelate will not yield: once moreGive him a summons.[Aparley is sounded.SCENE IV. ] PERKIN WARBECK. 431Enter on the walls the Bishop of DURHAM, armed, a trunWar.cheon in his hand, with Soldiers.See, the jolly clerkBishop, yetAppears, trimmed like a ruffian!K. Ja.Set ope the ports, and to your lawful sovereign,Richard of York, surrender up this castle,And he will take thee to his grace; else TweedShall overflow his banks with English blood,And wash the sand that cements those hard stonesFrom their foundation.Dur. Warlike King of Scotland,Vouchsafe a few words from a man enforcedTo lay his book aside, and clap on armsUnsuitable to my age or my profession.Courageous prince, consider on what groundsYou rend the face of peace, and break a leagueWith a confederate king that courts your amity ,For whom too? for a vagabond, a straggler,Not noted in the world by birth or name,An obscure peasant, by the rage of hellLoosed from his chains to set great kings at strife.What nobleman, what common man of note,What ordinary subject hath come in,Since first you footed on our territories,To only feign a welcome? Children laugh atYour proclamations, and the wiser pitySo great a potentate's abuse by one.Who juggles merely with the fawns and youthOf an instructed compliment: such spoils,Such slaughters as the rapine of your soldiersAlready have committed, is enoughTo show your zeal in a conceited justice.Yet, great king, wake not yet my master's vengeanceBut shake that viper off which gnaws your entrails.I and my fellow- subjects are resolved,432 PERKIN WARBECK. [ACT III.fIf you persist, to stand your utmost fury,Till our last blood drop from us.War.O, sir, lendNo ear to this traducer of my honour!—What shall I call thee, thou gray-bearded scandal,That kick'st against the sovereignty to whichThou ow'st allegiance?—Treason is bold-facedAnd eloquent in mischief: sacred king,Be deaf to his known malice.Dur. Rather yieldUnto those holy motions which inspireThe sacred heart of an anointed body.It is the surest policy in princes To govern well their own than seek encroachmentUpon another's right.Craw.Deep in his meditations.Dal.War.To Heaven, his better genius!The king is serious,Lift them upCan you studyWell, bishop,Construe meWhile such a devil raves? O, sir!K. Ja.You'll not be drawn to mercy?Dur.In like case by a subject of your own:My resolution's fixed: King James, be counselled,Agreater fate waits on thee.K. Ja.[ Exeunt Bishop of DURHAM and Soldiersfrom the walls.Forage throughThe country; spare no prey of life or goods.War. O, sir, then give me leave to yield to nature;I am most miserable: had I beenBorn what this clergyman would by defameBaffle belief with, I had never soughtThe truth of mine inheritance with rapesOf women or of infants murdered, virginsSCENE IV. ] PERKIN WARBECK 433 .Deflowered, old men butchered, dwellings fired,My land depopulated, and my peopleAfflicted with a kingdom's devastation:Show more remorse, great king, or I shall neverEndure to see such havoc with dry eyes;Spare, spare, my dear, dear England!K. Ja.Ridiculously careful of an interestYou fool your pietyAnother man possesseth. Where's your faction?Shrewdly the bishop guessed of your adherents,When not a petty burgess of some town,No, not a villager hath yet appearedIn your assistance: that should make ye whine,And not your country's sufferance, as you term it.Dal. The king is angry.Crew.Effeminately dolent.War.And the passionate dukeThe experienceIn former trials, sir, both of mine ownOr other princes cast out of their thrones,Have so acquainted me how miseryIs destitute of friends or of relief,That I can easily submit to tasteLowest reproof without contempt or words.K. Ja. An humble- minded man!Enter FRION.Speaks Master Secretary Frion?Fri.Now, what intelligenceHenryOf England hath in open field o'erthrownThe armies who opposed him in the rightOf this young prince.K. Ja.More, if you have it?Fri.His subsidies, you mean: --Howard, Earl of Surrey,Backed by twelve earls and barons of the north,Ford. FFPERKIN WARBECK. [ACT III.1434An hundred knights and gentlemen of name,And twenty thousand soldiers , is at handTo raise your siege. Brooke, with a goodly navy,Is admiral at sea; and Dawbeney followsWith an unbroken army for a second.War. 'Tis false! they come to side with us.K. Ja.We shall not find them stones and walls to copeYet, Duke of York, for such thou sayst thou art,I'll try thy fortune to the height: to Surrey,By Marchmont, I will send a brave defianceFor single combat; once a king will ventureHis person to an earl, with conditionOf spilling lesser blood: Surrey is bold,And James resolved.War. O, rather, gracious sir,Create me to this glory, since my causeDoth interest this fair quarrel; valued least,I am his equal.K. Ja.I will be the man.-March softly off: where victory can reapRetreatwith.-Aharvest crowned with triumph, toil is cheap. [ Exeunt.ACT THE FOURTH.SCENE I.-The English Camp near Ayton, on the Borders.Enter Earl of SURREY, Bishop of DURHAM, Soldiers, withdrums and colours.UR. Are all our braving enemies shrunkback,Hid in the fogs of their distemperedclimate,Not daring to behold our colours waveIn spite of this infected air? Can theyLook on the strength of Cundrestine defaced?The glory of Hedon-hall devasted? thatOf Edington cast dows? the pile of FuldenO'erthrown? and this the strongest of their forts,Old Ayton- castle, ¹ yielded and demolished?abroad? The Scots are bold,Hardy in battle; but it seems the causeThey undertake, considered, appearsUnjointed in the frame on't.And yet not peepDur.Noble Surrey,Our royal master's wisdom is at all timesHis fortune's harbinger; for when he drawsHis sword to threaten war, his providenceSettles on peace, the crowning of an empire.[A trumpet within.1 At that time considered one of the strongest places between Berwick and Edinburgh.436PERKINWARBECK.[ACT IV.Sur. Rank all in order: ' tis a herald's sound;Some message from King James: keep a fixed station .Enter MARCHMONT and another in Heralds' coats.March. From Scotland's awful majesty we comeUnto the English general.Sur.Say on.To me?March. Thus, then; the waste and prodigalEffusion of so much guiltless bloodAs in two potent armies of necessityMust glut the earth's dry womb, his sweet compassionHath studied to prevent; for which to thee,Great Earl of Surrey, in a single fightHe offers his own royal person; fairlyProposing these conditions only, thatIf victory conclude our master's right,The earl shall deliver for his ransomThe town of Berwick to him, with the fishgarths;If Surrey shall prevail, the king will payA thousand pounds down present for his freedom,And silence further arms: so speaks King James.Sur. So speaks King James! so like a king he speaks.Heralds, the English general returnsA sensible devotion from his heart,His very soul, to this unfellowed grace:For let the king know, gentle heralds, truly,How his descent from his great throne, to honourAstranger subject with so high a titleAs his compeer in arms, hath conquered moreThan any sword could do; for which-my loyaltyRespected- I will serve his virtues everIn all humility: but Berwick, say,Is none of mine to part with; in affairsOf princes subjects cannot traffic rightsInherent to the crown. My life is mine,SCENE I.] PERKIN WARBECK. 437That I dare freely hazard; and--with pardonTo some unbribed vainglory-if his majestyShall taste a change of fate, his libertyShall meet no articles. If I fall, fallingSo bravely, I refer me to his pleasureWithout condition; and for this dear favour,Say, if not countermanded, I will ceaseHostility, unless provoked.March.We shall relate unpartially.Dur.This answerWith favour,Pray have a little patience.--[ Aside to SURREY] Sir, youfindBy these gay flourishes how wearied travailInclines a willing rest; here's but a prologue,However confidently uttered, meantFor some ensuing acts of peace: considerThe time of year, unseasonableness of weather,Charge, barrenness of profit; and occasionI will back,Presents itself for honourable treaty,Which we may make good use of.As sent from you, in point of noble gratitudeUnto King James, with these his heralds: youShall shortly hear from me, my lord , for orderOf breathing or proceeding; and King Henry,Doubt not, will thank the service.Sur. [Aside to DURHAM]Lord Bishop, I refer it.To your wisdom ,Dur. [ Aside to SURREY] Be it so, then.Sur. Heralds, accept this chain and these few crowns.March. Our duty, noble general.Dur.In partOf retribution for such princely love,My lord the general is pleased to showThe king your master his sincerest zeal,By further treaty, by no common man:I will myself return with you.438.PERKINWARBECK.[ACTIV.Sur. Y' obligeMy faithfullest affections t'ye, Lord Bishop.March. All happiness attend your lordship![Exit with Herald.Sur. Come, friendsAnd fellow- soldiers; we, I doubt, shall meetNo enemies but woods and hills to fight with;Then ' twere as good to feed and sleep at home:We may be free from danger, not secure. [Exeunt.SCENE II.-The Scottish Camp.Enter PERKIN WARBECK and FRION.War. Frion, O, Frion, all my hopes of gloryAre at a stand! the Scottish king grows dull,Frosty, and wayward, since this Spanish agentHath mixed discourses with him; they are private,I am not called to council now:-confusionOn all his crafty shrugs! I feel the fabricOf my designs are tottering.Fri.Stir with too many engines.War.Henry's policiesLet his mines,Shaped in the bowels of the earth, blow upWorks raised for my defence, yet can they neverToss into air the freedom of my birth,Or disavow my blood Plantagenet's:I am my father's son still . But, O, Frion,When I bring into count with my disastersMy wife's compartnership, my Kate's, my life's,Then, then my frailty feels an earthquake. MischiefDamn Henry's plots! I will be England's king,Or let my aunt of Burgundy reportMy fall in the attempt deserved our ancestors!1SCENE II. ] PERKIN WARBECK. 439Fri. You grow too wild in passion: if you willAppear a prince indeed, confine your willTo moderation.War. What a saucy rudenessPrompts this distrust! If? If I will appear!Appear a prince! death throttle such deceitsEven in their birth of utterance! cursèd cozenageOf trust! Ye make me mad: ' twere best, it seems,That I should turn impostor to myself,Be mine own counterfeit, belie the truthOf my dear mother's womb, the sacred bedOf a prince murdered and a living baffled!Fri. Nay, if you have no ears to hear, I haveNo breath to spend in vain.War. Sir, sir, take heed!Gold and the promise of promotion rarelyFail in temptation.Fri.War.Why to me this?Nothing.Speak what you will; we are not sunk so lowBut your advice may piece again the heartWhich many cares have broken: you were wontIn all extremities to talk of comfort;Have ye none left now? I'll not interrupt ye.Good, bear with my distractions! If King JamesDeny us dwelling here, next whither must I?I prithee, be not angry.Fri. Sir, I told yeOf letters come from Ireland; how the CornishStomach their last defeat, and humbly sueThat with such forces as you could partakeYou would in person land in Cornwall, whereThousands will entertain your title gladly.War. Let me embrace thee, hug thee; thou'st revivedMy comforts; if my cousin -king will fail,Qur cause will never.440 PERKIN WARBECK. [ACT IV.Enter JOHN A-WATER, HERON, ASTLEY, and SKELTON.Welcome, my tried friends!You keep your brains awake in our defence.-Frion, advise with them of these affairs,In which be wondrous secret; I will listenWhat else concerns us here: be quick and wary. [Exit.Ast. Ah, sweet young prince! -Secretary, my fellowcounsellors and I have consulted, and jump all in oneopinion directly; an if these Scotch garboils do not fadgeto our minds, we will pell-mell run amongst the Cornishchoughs presently and in a trice.Skel. 'Tis but going to sea and leaping ashore, cut tenor twelve thousand unnecessary throats, fire seven oreight towns, take half a dozen cities, get into the marketplace, crown him Richard the Fourth, and the business isfinished.J. a- Wat. I grant ye, quoth I, so far forth as men maydo, no more than men may do; for it is good to consider when consideration may be to the purpose, otherwise-still you shall pardon me -little said is soonamended.Fri. Then you conclude the Cornish action surest?Her. We do so, and doubt not but to thrive abundantly.Ho, my masters, had we known of the commotion whenwe set sail out of Ireland, the land had been ours ere thistime.Skel. Pish, pish! ' tis but forbearing being an earl or aduke a month or two longer. I say, and say it again, ifthe work go not on apace, let me never see new fashionmore. I warrant ye, I warrant ye; we will have it so,and so it shall be.Ast. This is but a cold phlegmatic country, not stirringenough for men of spirit. Give me the heart of Englandfor my money!Skel. A man may batten there in a week only, withhot loaves and butter, and a lusty cup of muscadine and1 Tumults,SCENE III. ] PERKIN WARBECK. 441sugar at breakfast, though he make never a meal all themonth after.Ja- Wat. Surely, when I bore office I found by experience that to be much troublesome was to be much wiseand busy I have observed how filching and bragginghas been the best service in these last wars; and therefore conclude peremptorily on the design in England.If things and things may fall out, as who can tell what orhow-but the end will show it.Fri. Resolved like men of judgment! Here to lingerMore time is but to lose it: cheer the princeAnd haste him on to this; on this dependsFame in success, or glory in our ends. [ Exeunt.SCENE III.-Another part ofthe same.Enter King JAMES, the Bishop of DURHAM, and HIALAS.Hial. France, Spain, and Germany combine a leagueOf amity with England: nothing wantsFor settling peace through Christendom, ' but loveBetween the British monarchs, James and Henry.Dur. The English merchants, sir, have been receivedWith general procession into Antwerp;The emperor confirms the combination.Hial. The king of Spain resolves a marriageFor Katherine his daughter with Prince Arthur.Dur. France courts this early contract.Hial.A quietness in England?—Dur.What can hinderBut your suffrageTo such a silly creature, mighty sir,As is but in effect an apparition,A shadow, a mere trifle?Hial. To this unionThe good of both the church and commonwealthtInvite ye.442 PERKIN WARBECK [ACT IV..Dur. To this unity, a mysteryOfprovidence points out a greater blessingFor both these nations than our human reasonCan search into. King Henry hath a daughter,The Princess Margaret; I need not urgeWhat honour, what felicity can followOn such affinity ' twixt two Christian kingsInleagued by ties of blood; but sure I am,Ifyou, sir, ratify the peace proposed,I dare both motion and effect this marriageFor weal of both the kingdoms.K. Ja.Dar'st thou, lord bishop?Dur. Put it to trial, royal James, by sendingSome noble personage to the English courtBy way of embassy.Hial. Part of the business .Well; what HeavenShall suit my mediation.K. Ja.Hath pointed out to be, must be: you twoAre ministers, I hope, of blessèd fate.But herein only I will stand acquitted,No blood of innocents shall buy my peace:For Warbeck, as you nick him, came to me,Commended by the states of Christendom,A prince, though in distress; his fair demeanour,Lovely behaviour, unappalled spirit,Spoke him not base in blood, however clouded.The brute beasts have both rocks and caves to fly to ,And men the altars of the church; to usHe came for refuge: kings come near in natureUnto the gods in being touched with pity.Yet, noble friends, his mixture with our blood,Even with our own, shall no way interruptA general peace; only I will dismiss him.From my protection, throughout my dominions,In safety; but not ever to return.Hial. You are a just king,SCENE III . ] PERKIN WARBECK. 443Dur. Wise, and herein happy.K. Ja. Nor will we dally in affairs of weight:Huntley, lord bishop, shall with you to EnglandAmbassador from us: we will throw downOur weapons; peace on all sides! Now repairUnto our council; we will soon be with you.Hial. Delay shall question no dispatch; Heaven crownit. [ Exeunt Bishop of DURHAM and HIALAS.K. Ja. A league with Ferdinand! a marriageWith English Margaret! a free releaseFrom restitution for the late affronts!Cessation from hostility! and allFor Warbeck, not delivered, but dismissed!We could not wish it better. -Dalyell!Enter Lord Dalyell.Dal.K. Ja. Are Huntley and his daughter sent for?Dal.And come, my lord.K. Ja.We want his company.Dal.Here sir.Sent forSay to the English prince,He is at hand, sir.Enter PERKIN WARBECK, Lady KATHERINE, JANE, FRION,HERON, SKELTON, JOHN A-WATER, and ASTLEY.K. Ja. Cousin, our bounty, favours, gentleness,Our benefits, the hazard of our person,Our people's lives, our land, hath evidencedHow much we have engaged on your behalf:How trivial and how dangerous our hopesAppear, how fruitless our attempts in war,How windy, rather smoky, your assuranceOf party shows, we might in vain repeat:But now obedience to the mother church,A father's care upon his country's weal,The dignity of state, direct our wisdom444 PERKIN WARBECK [ACT IV. .To seal an oath of peace through Christendom;To which we're sworn already: it is youMust only seek new fortunes in the world,And find an harbour elsewhere. As I promisedOn your arrival, you have met no usageDeserves repentance in your being here;But yet I must live master of mine own:However, what is necessary for youAt your departure, I am well contentYou be accommodated with, providedDelay prove not my enemy.War. It shall notMost glorious prince. The fame of my designs.Soars higher than report of ease and slothCan aim at: I acknowledge all your favoursBoundless and singular; am only wretchedIn words as well as means to thank the graceThat flowed so liberally. Two empires firmlyYou're lord of, -Scotland and Duke Richard's heart:My claim to mine inheritance shall soonerFail than my life to serve you, best of kings;And, witness Edward's blood in me! I amMore loth to part with such a great exampleOf virtue than all other mere respects.But, sir, my last suit is , you will not forceFrom me what you have given, -this chaste lady,Resolved on all extremes.Kath. I am your wife;No human power can or shall divorceMy faith from duty.War.The earth is bankrupt of.K. Ja.Such another treasureI gave her, cousin,And must avow the gift; will add withalA furniture becoming her high birthAnd unsuspected constancy; provideFor your attendance: we will part good friends.[Exit with Lord DALYELLSCENE III. ] PERKIN WARBECK, 445War. The Tudor hath been cunning in his plots:His Fox of Durham would not fail at last.But what? our cause and courage are our own:Be men, my friends , and let our cousin-kingSee how we follow fate as willinglyAs malice follows us.For the west parts of England?All.Ye're all resolvedCornwall, Cornwall!CheerfullyFri. The inhabitants expect you daily.War.Draw all our ships out of the harbour, friends;Our time of stay doth seem too long, we mustPrevent intelligence; about it suddenly.All. A prince, a prince, a prince![Exeunt HERON, SKELTON, ASTLEY, and JOHNA-WATER.War. Dearest, admit not into thy pure thoughtsThe least of scruples, which may charge their softnessWith burden of distrust. Should I prove wantingTo noblest courage now, here were the trial:But I am perfect, sweet; I fear no change,More than thy being partner in my sufferance.Kath. My fortunes, sir, have armed me to encounterWhat chance soe'er they meet with. -Jane, ' tis fitThou stay behind, for whither wilt thou wander?Jane. Never till death will I forsake my mistress,Nor then in wishing to die with ye gladly.Kath. Alas, good soul!Fri. Sir, to your aunt of BurgundyI will relate your present undertakings:From her expect on all occasions welcome.You cannot find me idle in your services.War. Go, Frion, go: wise men know how to sootheAdversity, not serve it: thou hast waitedToo long on expectation; never yetWas any nation read of so besottedIn reason as t'adore the setting sun.446 PERKIN WARBECK.[ACT IV.Fly to the archduke's court; say to the duch*ess,Her nephew, with fair Katherine his wife,Are on their expectation to beginThe raising of an empire: if they fail,Yet the report will never. Farewell, Frion![Exit FRION.This man, Kate, has been true, though now of lateI fear too much familiar with the Fox.Re-enter Lord DALYELL with the Earl of HUNTLEY.Hunt. I come to take my leave: you need notdoubtMy interest in this sometime child of mine;She's all yours now, good sir. -O, poor lost creature,Heaven guard thee with much patience! if thou canstForget thy title to old Huntley's family,As much of peace will settle in thy mindAs thou canst wish to taste but in thy grave.Accept my tears yet, prithee; they are tokensOf charity as true as of affection.Kath. This is the cruell'st farewell!Hunt. Love, young gentleman,This model of my griefs; she calls you husband;Then be not jealous of a parting kiss, -It is a father's, not a lover's offering;Take it, my last [ Kisses her].-I am too much a child.Exchange of passion is to little use,So I should grow too foolish: goodness guide thee![Exit.Kath. Most miserable daughter!-Have you aughtTo add, sir, to our sorrows?Dal. I resolve,Fair lady, with your leave, to wait on all Your fortunes in my person, if your lordVouchsafe me entertainment.War. We will be bosom-friends, most nobleDalyell;SCENE IV. ] PERKIN WARBECK. 447For I accept this tender of your loveBeyond ability of thanks to speak it.-Clear thy drowned eyes, my fairest: time and industryWill show us better days, or end the worst. [Exeunt.SCENE IV. -The Palace at Westminster.Enter Earl of OXFORD and Lord DAWBENEY.Oxf. No news from Scotland yet, my lord?Daw.Not anyBut what King Henry knows himself: I thoughtOur armies should have marched that way; his mind,It seems, is altered .Oxf. Victory attendsWise princes, Oxford ,His standard everywhere.Daw.Fight not alone with forces. Providence.Directs and tutors strength; else elephantsAnd barbèd horses might as well prevailAs the most subtle stratagems of war.Oxf. The Scottish king showed more than commonbraveryIn proffer of a combat hand to hand.With Surrey.Daw. And but showed it: northern bloodsAre gallant being fired; but the cold climate,Without good store of fuel, quickly freezethThe glowing flames.Oxf. Surrey, upon my life,May he forfeit 1Would not have shrunk an hair's- breadth.Daw.The honour of an English name and nature,Who would not have embraced it with a greedinessAs violent as hunger runs to food!'Twas an addition any worthy spirit448 PERKINWARBECK.[ACT- IV.Would covet, next to immortality,Above all joys of life: we all missed sharesIn that great opportunity.Enter King HENRY, in close conversation with URSWICK.Oxf.See, he comes smiling.Daw.The king!O, the game runs smoothOn his side, then, believe it: cards well shuffledAnd dealt with cunning bring some gamester thrift,But others must rise losers.K. Hen.Urs. Most prosperously.K. Hen.The train takes?I knew it should not miss.He fondly angles who will hurl his baitInto the water ' cause the fish at firstPlays round about the line and dares not bite.—Lords, we may reign your king yet: Dawbeney, Oxford,Urswick, must Perkin wear the crown?Daw.Oxf. A vagabond!Urs.K. Hen.Aglow-worm!His practised politician, wear a brainA slave!Now, if Frion,Of proof, King Perkin will in progress rideThrough all his large dominions; let us meet him,And tender homage: ha, sirs! liegemen oughtTo pay their fealty.Daw. Would the rascal were,With all his rabble, within twenty milesOf London!K. Hen. Farther off is near enoughTo lodge him in his home: I'll wager odds,Surrey and all his men are either idleOr hasting back; they have not work, I doubt,To keep them busy.Daw.'Tis a strange conceit, sir.SCENE IV. ] PERKIN WARBECK. 449K. Hen. Such voluntary favours as our peopleIn duty aid us with, we never scatteredOn cobweb parasites , or lavished outIn riot or a needless hospitality:No undeserving favourite doth boastHis issues from our treasury; our chargeFlows through all Europe, proving us but stewardOf every contribution which providesAgainst the creeping canker of disturbance.Is it not rare, then, in this toil of stateWherein we are embarked, with breach of sleep ,Cares, and the noise of trouble, that our mercyReturns nor thanks nor comfort? Still the WestMurmur and threaten innovation,Whisper our government tyrannical ,Deny us what is ours, nay, spurn their lives ,Of which they are but owners by our gift:It must not be.Oxf.K. Hen.To whom?Mess.It must not, should not.Enter Messenger with a packet.So then-"This packet to your sacred majesty.K. Hen. Sirrah, attend without. [ Exit Messenger.Oxf. News from the North, upon my life.Daw.Divines aforehand of events; with himAttempts and executions are one act.Wise HenryK. Hen. Urswick, thine ear: Frion is caught; themanOf cunning is outreached; we must be safe.Should reverend Morton, our archbishop, moveTo a translation higher yet, I tell theeMy Durham owns a brain deserves that see;He's nimble in his industry, and mountingThou hear'st me?Ford.G G450PERKINWARBECK.[ACT IV.Urs. And conceive your highness fitly.K. Hen. Dawbeney and Oxford, since our army standsEntire, it were a weakness to admitThe rust of laziness to eat amongst them:Set forward toward Salisbury; the plainsAre most commodious for their exercise.Ourself will take a muster of them there;And or disband them with reward, or elseDispose as best concerns us.Daw.Sir, all is peace at Salisbury.K. Hen.Salisbury!Dear friend,The charge must be our own; we would a littlePartake the pleasure with our subjects' ease.-Shall I entreat your loves?Oxf.Command our lives.K. Hen. Ye're men know how to do, not to forethink.My bishop is a jewel tried and perfect;A jewel, lords. The post who brought these lettersMust speed another to the Mayor of Exeter;Urswick, dismiss him not.Urs.K. Hen. Perkin a king? a king!Urs.He waits your pleasure.My gracious lord, --K. Hen. Thoughts busied in the sphere of royaltyFix not on creeping worms without their stings,Mere excrements of earth. The use of timeIs thriving safety, and a wise preventionOf ills expected. We're resolved for Salisbury.[Exeunt.SCENE V.-The Coast of Cornwall.Ageneral shout within. Enter PERKIN WARBECK, Lord'DALYELL, Lady KATHERINE, and JANE.War. After so many storms as wind and seasSCENE V. ] PERKIN WARBECK. 451Have threatened to our weather-beaten ships,At last, sweet fairest, we are safe arrivedOn our dear mother earth, ingrateful onlyTo heaven and us in yielding sustenanceTo sly usurpers of our throne and right.These general acclamations are an omenOf happy process to their welcome lord:They flock in troops, and from all parts with wingsOfduty fly to lay their hearts before us.-Unequalled pattern of a matchless wife,Howfares my dearest yet?Kath.Confirmed in health,By which I may the better undergoThe roughest face of change; but I shall learnPatience to hope, since silence courts affliction ,For comforts, to this truly noble gentleman, -Rare unexampled pattern of a friend!-And my beloved Jane, the willing followerOf all misfortunes.Dal. Lady, I returnBut barren crops of early protestations,Frost-bitten in the spring of fruitless hopes.Jane. I wait but as the shadow to the body;For madam, without you let me be nothing.War. None talk of sadness; we are on the wayWhich leads to victory: keep cowards thoughtsWith desperate sullenness! The lion faints notLocked in a grate, but loose disdains all forceWhich bars his prey, -and we are lion- hearted, -Or else no king of beasts. [Another general shout within. ]---Hark, how they shout,Triumphant in our cause! bold confidenceMarches on bravely, cannot quake at danger.Enter SKELTON.Skel. Save King Richard the Fourth! save thee, kingof hearts! The Cornish blades are men of mettle; haveT452PERKINWARBECK WARBE.[ACT IV.proclaimed, through Bodmin and the whole county, mysweet prince Monarch of England: four thousand tallyeomen, with bow and sword, already vow to live anddie at the foot of King Richard.Enter ASTLEY,Ast. The mayor, our fellow- counsellor, is servant foran emperor. Exeter is appointed for the rendezvous,and nothing wants to victory but courage and resolution.Sigillatum et datum decimo Septembris, anno regni regisprimo, et cætera; confirmatum est. All's co*ck- sure,War. To Exeter! to Exeter, march on!Commend us to our people: we in personWill lend them double spirits; tell them so.Skel. and Ast. King Richard, King Richard![Exeunt SKELTON and ASTLEY.War. A thousand blessings guard our lawful arms!A thousand horrors pierce our enemies' souls!Pale fear unedge their weapons' sharpest points!And when they draw their arrows to the head,Numbness shall strike their sinews! Such advantageHath Majesty in its pursuit of justice,That on the proppers-up of Truth's old throneIt both enlightens counsel and gives heartTo execution; whiles the throats of traitorsLie bare before our mercy. O, divinityOf royal birth! how it strikes dumb the tonguesWhose prodigality of breath is bribedBy trains to greatness! Princes are but menDistinguished in the fineness of their frailty,Yet not so gross in beauty of the mind;For there's a fire more sacred purifiesThe dross of mixture. Herein stand the odds,Subjects are men on earth, kings men and gods.[Exeunt,ACT THE FIFTH.SCENE I.-St. Michael's Mount, Cornwall.Enter Lady KATHERINE and JANE in riding-suits, withone Servant.ADY KATH. It is decreed; and wemust yield to fate,Whose angryjustice, though it threatenruin,Contempt, and poverty, is all but trialOfa weakwoman's constancy in suffering.Here, in a stranger's and an enemy's land,Forsaken and unfurnished of all hopesBut such as wait on misery, I range,To meet affliction wheresoe'er I tread.My train and pomp of servants is reducedTo one kind gentlewoman and this groom.-Sweet Jane, now whither must we?Jane.Dear lady, and turn home.Kath.To your ships,Home! I have none.Fly thou to Scotland; thou hast friends will weepFor joy to bid thee welcome; but, O, Jane,My Jane my friends are desperate of comfort,As I must be of them: the common charity,Good people's alms and prayers of the gentle,Is the revenue must support my state.As for my native country, since it onceSaw me a princess in the height of greatness1454 PERKIN WARBECK. [ACT V.1My birth allowed me, here I make a vowScotland shall never see me being fall'nOr lessened in my fortunes. Never, Jane,Never to Scotland more will I return.Could I be England's queen, -a glory, Jane,I never fawned on, —yet the king who gave meHath sent me with my husband from his presence,Delivered us suspected to his nation,Rendered us spectacles to time and pity;And is it fit I should return to suchAs only listen after our descentFrom happiness enjoyed to miseryExpected, though uncertain? Never, never!Alas, why dost thou weep? and that poor creatureWipe his wet cheeks too? let me feel aloneExtremities, who know to give them harbour;Nor thou nor he has cause: you may live safely.Jane. There is no safety whiles your dangers, madam,Are every way apparent.Serv. Pardon, lady,I cannot choose but show my honest heart;You were ever my good lady.Kath. O, dear souls,Your shares in grief are too - too much!Dal.Enter Lord DALYELL.I bring,Fair princess, news of further sadness yetThan your sweet youth hath been acquainted with.Kath. Not more, my lord, than I can welcome: speakit;The worst, the worst I look for.Dal.At Exeter were by the citizensAll the CornishRepulsed, encountered by the Earl of DevonshireAnd other worthy gentlemen of the country.Your husband marched to Taunton, and was thereSCENE I.] PERKIN WARBECK. 4551Affronted by King Henry's chamberlain;The king himself in person with his armyAdvancing nearer, to renew the fightOn all occasions: but the night beforeThe battles were to join, your husband privately,Accompanied with some few horse, departedFrom out the camp, and posted none knows whither.Kath. Fled without battle given?Dal. Fled, but followedBy Dawbeney; all his parties left to tasteKing Henry's mercy, --for to that they yielded, ---Victorious without bloodshed.Kath. O, my sorrows!If both our lives had proved the sacrificeTo Henry's tyranny, we had fall'n like princes,And robbed him of the glory of his pride.Dal. Impute it not to faintness or to weaknessOf noble courage, lady, but to foresight;For by some secret friend he had intelligenceOf being bought and sold by his base followers.Worse yet remains untold.Kath. No, no, it cannot.Dal. I fear you are betrayed: the Earl of OxfordRuns hot in your pursuit.2Kath. He shall not need;We'll run as hot in resolution gladlyTo make the earl our jailor.Jane.They come, they come!Dal.Madam, madam,Enter Earl of OXFORD with his Followers.Keep back! or he who daresRudely to violate the law of honour1 Confronted.2 There were also sent with all speed some horse to St. Michael's Mount in Cornwall, where the Lady Katherine Gordon was left by her husband , whom in all fortunes she entirely loved,adding the virtues of a wife to the virtues of her sex. "-Bacon.1456[ACT V.PERKINWARBECK.!Most noble sir, forbear.-Runs on my sword.Kath.What reason draws you hither, gentlemen?Whom seek ye?Oxf. All stand off! -With favour, lady,From Henry, England's king, I would presentUnto the beauteous princess, Katherine Gordon,The tender of a gracious entertainment.Kath. We are that princess, whom your master-kingPursues with reaching arms to draw intoHis power: let him use his tyranny,We shall not be his subject.Oxf. My commissionExtends no further, excellentest lady,Than to a service; ' tis King Henry's pleasureThat you, and all that have relation t'ye,Be guarded as becomes your birth and greatness;For, rest assured, sweet princess, that not aughtOf what you do call yours shall find disturbance,Or any welcome other than what suitsYour high condition.Kath. By what title, sir,Your servant, lady,May I acknowledge you?Oxf.Descended from the line of Oxford's earls,Inherits what his ancestors before himWere owners of.Kath. Your king is herein royal,That by a peer so ancient in desertAs well as blood commands us to his presence.Oxf. Invites ye, princess, not commands.Kath. Pray useYour own phrase as you list: to your protectionBoth I and mine submit.Oxf. There's in your numberA nobleman whom fame hath bravely spoken.To him the king my master bade me saySCENE II.] Y PERKIN WARBECK.457 .How willingly he courts his friendship; farFrom an enforcement, more than what in termsOf courtesy so great a prince may hope for.Dal. My name is Dalyell.Oxf. 'Tis a name hath wonBoth thanks and wonder from report, my lord:The court of England emulates your merit,And covets to embrace you.Dal.The princess in her fortunes.Oxf.Great lady, to set forward?Kath.1I must wait onWill you please,Being drivenBy fate, it were in vain to strive with Heaven [Exeunt. .SCENE II. -Salisbury.Enter King HENRY, Earl of SURREY, URSWICK, and aguard of Soldiers.K. Hen. The counterfeit, King Perkin, is escaped:-Escaped so let him; he is hedged too fast.Within the circuit of our English paleTo steal out of our ports, or leap the wallsWhich guard our land; the seas are rough and widerThan his weak arms can tug with. Surrey, henceforthYour king may reign in quiet; turmoils past,Like some unquiet dream, have rather busiedOur fancy than affrighted rest of state.But, Surrey, why, in articling a peaceWith James of Scotland, was not restitutionOf losses which our subjects did sustainBy the Scotch inroads questioned?Sur. Both demandedAnd urged, my lord; to which the king replied,In modest merriment, but smiling earnest,1458PERKINWARBECK.[ACTV.How that our master Henry was much ablerTo bear the detriments than he repay them.K. Hen. The young man, I believe, spake honest truth;He studies to be wise betimes. -Has, Urswick,Sir Rice ap Thomas, and Lord Brook our steward,Returned the Western gentlemen full thanksFrom us for their tried loyalties?Urs. They have;Which, as if health and life had reigned amongst ' em,With open hearts they joyfully received.K. Hen. Young Buckingham is a fair-natured prince,Lovely in hopes, and worthy of his father;Attended by an hundred knights and squiresOf special name he tendered humble service,Which we must ne'er forget: and Devonshire's wounds,Though slight, shall find sound cure in our respect.Enter Lord DAWBENEY with a Guard, leading in PERKINWARBECK, HERON, JOHN A-Water, Astley, andSKELTON, chained.Daw. Life to the king, and safety fix his throne!I here present you, royal sir, a shadowOf majesty, but in effect a substanceOf pity; a young man, in nothing grownTo ripeness but the ambition of your mercy, —Perkin, the Christian world's strange wonder.K. Hen. Dawbeney,We observe no wonder: I behold, ' tis true,An ornament of nature, fine and polished,A handsome youth indeed, but not admire him.How came he to thy hands?Daw. From sanctuaryAt Bewley, near Southampton; registered ,With these few followers, for persons privileged.K. Hen. I must not thank you, sir; you were to blameT' infringe the liberty of houses sacred:Dare we be irreligious?SCENE II . ] PERKIN WARBECK. T 459་Daw. Gracious lord,They voluntarily resigned themselvesWithout compulsion.K. Hen."So? 'twas very well;'Twas very, very well. -Turn now thine eyes,Young man, upon thyself and thy past actions;What revels in combustion through our kingdomA frenzy of aspiring youth hath danced ,Till, wanting breath, thy feet of pride have sliptTo break thy neck!War. But not my heart; my heartWill mount till every drop of blood be frozenBy death's perpetual winter: if the sunOf majesty be darkened, let the sunOf life be hid from me in an eclipseLasting and universal. Sir, rememberThere was a shooting- in of light when Richmond,Not aiming at a crown, retired, and gladly,For comfort to the Duke of Bretaine's court.Richard, who swayed the sceptre, was reputedAtyrant then; yet then a dawning glimmeredTo some few wandering remnants, promising dayWhen first they ventured on a frightful shore' At Milford Haven;-Daw. Whither speeds his boldness?Check his rude tongue, great sir.K. Hen. O, let him range:The player's on the stage still, ' tis his part;He does but act. -What followed?War. Bosworth Field;Where, at an instant, to the world's amazement,A morn to Richmond, and a night to Richard,Appeared at once: the tale is soon applied;Fate, which crowned these attempts when least assured,Might have befriended others like resolved.K. Hen. A pretty gallant! Thus your aunt of Burgundy,460 PERKINWARBECK.[ACT V.Your duch*ess-aunt, informed her nephew; so,The lesson prompted and well conned, was mouldedInto familiar dialogue, oft rehearsed,Till, learnt by heart, ' tis now received for truth.War. Truth, in her pure simplicity, wants artTo put a feigned blush on: scorn wears onlySuch fashion as commends to gazers' eyesSad ulcerated novelty, far beneathThe sphere of majesty: in such a courtWisdom and gravity are proper robes,By which the sovereign is best distinguishedFrom zanies to his greatness.K. Hen. Sirrah, shiftYour antic pageantry, and now appearIn your own nature, or you'll taste the dangerOf fooling out of season.War. I expectNo less than what severity calls justice,And politicians safety; let such begAs feed on alms: but if there can be mercyIn a protested enemy, then mayitDescend to these poor creatures, whose engagements,To the bettering of their fortunes, have incurredA loss of all; to them if any charityFlow from some noble orator, in deathI owe the fee of thankfulness.K. Hen. So brave!What a bold knave is this!--Which of these rebelsHas been the Mayor of Cork?Daw. This wise formality.-[They kneel.Canst thou hopeKneel to the king, ye rascals!K. Hen.A pardon, where thy guilt is so apparent?J. a-Wat. Under your good favours, as men are men,they may err; for I confess, respectively, in taking greatparts, the one side prevailing, the other side must godown herein the point is clear, if the proverb hold, thatSCENE II. ] PERKIN WARBECK. 461hanging goes by destiny, that it is to little purpose tosay, this thing or that shall be thus or thus; for, as theFates will have it, so it must be; and who can help it?Daw. O, blockhead! thou a privy- counsellor?Beg life, and cry aloud, " Heaven save King Henry! "J. a- Wat. Every man knows what is best, as it happens; for my own part, I believe it is true, if I be notdeceived, that kings must be kings and subjects subjects;but which is which, you shall pardon me for that: whetherwe speak or hold our peace, all are mortal; no manknows his end.K. Hen. We trifle time with follies.Her. John a- W. Ast. Skel. Mercy, mercy!K. Hen. Urswick, command the dukeling and thesefellowsTo Digby, the lieutenant of the Tower:With safety let them be conveyed to London.It is our pleasure no uncivil outrage,Taunts or abuse be suffered to their persons;[ They rise.They shall meet fairer law than they deserve.Time may restore their wits, whom vain ambitionHath many years distracted.War. Noble thoughtsMeet freedom in captivity: the Tower, —Our childhood's dreadful nursery!K. Hen. No more!Urs. Come, come, you shall have leisure to bethink ye.[Exit URSWICK with PERKIN WARBECK andhis Followers, guarded.K. Hen. Was ever so much impudence in forgery?The custom, sure, of being styled a kingHath fastened in his thought that he is such;But we shall teach the lad another language:'Tis good we have him fast.Daw.Will purge this saucy humour.K. Hen.The hangman's physicVery likely;462 PERKIN WARBECK. LACT V.Yet we could temper mercy with extremity,Being not too far provoked.Enter Earl of OXFORD, Lady KATHERINE in her richestattire, Lord DALYELL, JANE, and Attendants.Oxf. Great sir, be pleased,With your accustomed grace to entertainThe Princess Katherine Gordon.K. Hen. Oxford, hereinWe must beshrew thy knowledge of our nature.A lady of her birth and virtues could notHave found us so unfurnished of good mannersAs not, on notice given, to have met herHalf way in point of love. -Excuse, fair cousin,The oversight: O, fie! you may not kneel;'Tis most unfitting: first, vouchsafe this welcome,A welcome to your own; for you shall find usBut guardian to your fortune and your honours.Kath. My fortunes and mine honours are weakchampions,As both are now befriended, sir: however,Both bow before your clemency.K. Hen. Our armsShall circle them from malice. -A sweet lady!Beauty incomparable! —here lives majestyAt league with love,Kath. O, sir, I have a husband.K. Hen. We'll prove your father, husband, friend, andservant,Prove what you wish to grant us. -Lords, be carefulA patent presently be drawn for issuingAthousand pounds from our exchequer yearlyDuring our cousin's life. —Our queen shall beYour chief companion, our own court your home,Our subjects all your servants.Kath. But my husband?K. Hen. By all descriptions, you are noble Dalyell,SCENE III. ] PERKIN WARBECK. 463Whose generous truth hath famed a rare observance.We thank ye; ' tis a goodness gives additionTo every title boasted from your ancestry,In all most worthy.Dal. Worthier than your praises,Right princely sir, I need not glory in.K. Hen. Embrace him, lords.--Whoever calls youmistressIs lifted in our charge. —A goodlier beautyMine eyes yet ne'er encountered.Kath.Of fate! what rests to hope for?K. Hen.Cruel miseryForward, lords,To London.--Fair, ere long I shall present yeWith a glad object, peace, and Huntley's blessing.[Exeunt.SCENE III. -London: The Tower- hill.Enter Constable and Officers, PERKIN WARBECK, URSWICK, and LAMBERT SIMNEL as a Falconer, followedbythe rabble.Const. Make room there! keep off, I require ye; andnone come within twelve foot of his majesty's new stocks ,upon pain of displeasure. -Bring forward the malefactors.Friend, you must to this gear, no remedy. —Open thehole, and in with his legs, just in the middle hole; there,that hole. [ WARBECK is put in the stocks. ] —Keep off, orI'll commit you all: shall not a man in authority beobeyed! So, so, there; ' tis as it should be: put on thepadlock, and give me the key. -Off, I say, keep off!Urs. Yet, Warbeck, clear thy conscience: thou hasttastedKing Henry's mercy liberally; the lawHas forfeited thy life; an equal jury464 PERKIN WARBECK. [ACT V.Have doomed thee to the gallows; twice most wickedly,Most desperately, hast thou escaped the Tower,Inveigling to thy party with thy witchcraftYoung Edward Earl of Warwick, son to Clarence,Whose head must pay the price of that attempt;Poor gentleman, unhappy in his fate,And ruined by thy cunning! so a mongrelMay pluck the true stag down. Yet, yet, confessThy parentage; for yet the king has mercy.1 Sim. You would be Dick the Fourth; very likely!Your pedigree is published; ¹ you are knownFor Osbeck's son of Tournay, a loose runagate,A landloper; your father was a Jew,Turned Christian merely to repair his miseries:Where's now your kingship?War.Intolerable cruelty! I laugh atBaited to my death?The Duke of Richmond's practice on my fortunes:Possession of a crown ne'er wanted heralds.Sim. You will not know who I am?Urs.Your predecessor in a dangerous uproar;But, on submission, not alone receivedLambert Simnel,To grace, but by the king vouchsafed his service.Simn. I would be Earl of Warwick, toiled and ruffledAgainst my master, leaped to catch the moon,Vaunted my name Plantagenet, as you do;An earl, forsooth! whenas in truth I was,•1 " Thus therefore it came to pass. There was a townsman of Tournay . whose name was John Osbeck, a converted Jew,married to Katherine de Faro, whose business drew him to live fora time with his wife at London, in King Edward the IVth's days.During which time he had a son by her; and being known in court, the king did him the honour as to be godfather to his child, and named him Peter. But afterwards proving a dainty andeffeminate youth, he was commonly called by the diminutive of his name, Peter-kin or Perkin. "-Bacon.2 He (Perkin) had been from his childhood such a wanderer,or, as the king called it , such a landloper, as it was extreme hard to hunt out his nest. "-Bacon.SCENE III. ]PERKIN WARBECK 465 .As you are, a mere rascal: yet his majesty,Aprince composed of sweetness,-Heaven protect him!-Forgave me all my villainies, reprievedThe sentence of a shameful end, admittedMy surety of obedience to his service,And I am now his falconer; live plenteously,Eat from the king's purse, and enjoy the sweetnessOf liberty and favour; sleep securely:And is not this, now, better than to buffetThe hangman's clutches, or to brave the cordageOf a tough halter which will break your neck?So, then, the gallant totters! -prithee, Perkin,Let my example lead thee; be no longerA counterfeit; confess, and hope for pardon.War. For pardon! hold, my heart-strings, whiles conOf injuries, in scorn, may bid defiance [temptTo this base man's foul language! -Thou poor vermin,How dar'st thou creep so near me? thou an earl!Why, thou enjoy'st as much of happinessAs all the swing of slight ambition flew at.A dunghill was thy cradle. So a puddle,By virtue of the sunbeams, breathes a vapourT'infect the purer air, which drops again.Into the muddy womb that first exhaled it.Bread and a slavish ease, with some assuranceFrom the base beadle's whip, crowned all thy hopes:But, sirrah, ran there in thy veins one dropOf such a royal blood as flows in mine,Thou wouldst not change condition, to be secondIn England's state, without the crown itself.Coarse creatures are incapable of excellence:But let the world, as all to whom I amThis day a spectacle, to time deliver,And by tradition fix posterityWithout another chronicle than truth,How constantly my resolution sufferedA martyrdom of majesty.Ford. H H466PERKINWARBECK[ACT V..Simn. He's pastRecovery; a Bedlam cannot cure him.Urs. Away, inform the king of his behaviour.Simn. Perkin, beware the rope! the hangman's coming.Urs. If yet thou hast no pity of thy body,Pity thy soul![Exit.Enter Lady Katherine, Jane, Lord DALYELL, andJane.Oxf.Earl of Oxford.Dear lady!Whither will ye,Forbear me, sir,Without respect of shame?Kath.And trouble not the current of my duty.——(), my loved lord! can any scorn be yoursIn which I have no interest -Some kind handLend me assistance, that I may partakeThe infliction of this penance. - My life's dearest,Forgive me; I have stayed too long from tenderingAttendance on reproach; yet bid me welcome.War. Great miracle of constancy! my miseriesWere never bankrupt of their confidenceIn worst afflictions, till this; now I feel them.Report and thy deserts, thou best of creatures,Might to eternity have stood a patternFor every virtuous wife without this conquest.Thou hast outdone belief; yet may their ruinIn after-marriages be never pitied,To whom thy story shall appear a fable!Why wouldst thou prove so much unkind to greatnessTo glorify thy vows by such a servitude?I cannot weep; but trust me, dear, my heartIs liberal of passion. -Harry Richmond,A woman's faith hath robbed thy fame of triumphOxf. Sirrah, leave- off your juggling, and tie upThe devil that ranges in your tongue.SCENE III. ] PERKIN WARBECK. 467Urs.Thus witches,Possessed, even to their deaths deluded, sayThey have been wolves and dogs, and sailed in egg- shellsOver the sea, and rid on fiery dragons,Passed in the air more than a thousand miles,All in a night -the enemy of mankind.Is powerful, but false, and falsehood confident.Oxf. Remember, lady, who you are; come fromThat impudent impostor.Kath. You abuse us:For when the holy churchman joined our hands,Our vows were real then; the ceremonyWas not in apparition, but in act.—Be what these people term thee, I am certainThou art my husband, no divorce in HeavenHas been sued- out between us; ' tis injusticeFor any earthly power to divide us:Or we will live or let us die together.There is a cruel mercy.War. Spite of tyrannyWe reign in our affections, blessed woman!Read in my destiny the wreck of honour;Point out, in my contempt of death, to memorySome miserable happiness; since herein,Even when I fell, I stood enthroned a monarchOfone chaste wife's troth pure and uncorrupted.Fair angel of perfection, immortalityShall raise thy name up to an adoration,Court every rich opinion of true merit,And saint it in the calendar of Virtue,When I am turned into the self- same dustOf which I was first formed.Oxf.The lord ambassador,Huntley, your father, madam, should he look onYour strange subjection in a gaze so public,Would blush on your behalf, and wish his countryUnleft for entertainment to such sorrow.468 PERKIN WARBECK.[ACT V.Kath. Why art thou angry, Oxford? I must beMore peremptory in my duty. -Sir,Impute it not unto immodestyThat I presume to press you to a legacyBefore we part for ever.War. Let it be, then,My heart, the rich remains of all my fortunes.Kath. Confirm it with a kiss, pray.War.I wish to breathe my last! upon thy lips,Those equal twins of comeliness, I sealThe testament of honourable vows:Whoever be that man that shall unkissO, with that[Kisses her.This sacred print next, may he prove more thriftyIn this world's just applause, not more desertful!Kath. By this sweet pledge of both our souls, I swearTo die a faithful widow to thy bed;Not to be forced or won: O, never, never!Enter Earls of SURREY, HUNTLEY, and CRAWFORD, andLord DAWBENEY.Daw. Free the condemned person; quickly free him!What has he yet confessed?Urs.[PERKIN WARBECK is taken out ofthe stocks.Nothing to purpose;But still he will be king.Sur. Prepare your journeyTo a new kingdom, then, unhappy madman,;Wilfully foolish! --See, my lord ambassador,Your lady daughter will not leave the counterfeitIn this disgrace of fate.Hunt. I never pointedThy marriage, girl; but yet, being married,Enjoy thy duty to a husband freely.The griefs are mine. I glory in thy constancy;And must not say I wished that I had missedSome partage in these trials of a patience.Kath. You will forgive me, noble sir?SCENE III. ] PERKIN WARBECK.. 469Hunt.In every duty of a wife and daughterYes, yes;I dare not disavow thee. To your husband, —For such you are, sir, -I impart a farewellOf manly pity; what your life has passed through,The dangers of your end will make apparent;And I can add, for comfort to your sufferance,No cordial, but the wonder of your frailty,Which keeps so firm a station. We are parted.War. We are. A crown of peace renew thy age,Most honourable Huntley! -Worthy Crawford!We may embrace; I never thought thee injury.Craw. Nor was I ever guilty of neglectWhich might procure such thought. I take my leave, sir.War. To you, Lord Dalyell, -what? accept a sigh,'Tis hearty and in earnest.Dal.My silence is my farewell.Kath.Jane.I want utterance;O, O!Sweet madam,. What do you mean?-Mylord, your hand. [ To DALYELL.Dal. Dear lady,Be pleased that I may wait ye to your lodging.¹[Exeunt Lord DALYELL and JANE, supportingLady KATHERINE.¹ Gifford quotes the following passage concerning her subsequent history from Sir R. Gordon: " Shoe wes brought from St.Michael's Mount in Cornuall, ane delyvered to King Henrie the Seaventh, who intertayned her honorablie, and for her better mantenance, according to her birth and vertue, did a signe vnto hergood lands and rents for all the dayes of her lyff. After the death of her husband Richard, shoe mareid Sir Mathie Cradock (a man of great power at that tyme in Clamorganshyre in Wales) , of the which mariage is descended this William Earle of Pembroke, by his grandmother, and had some lands by inheritance from the Cradockes. Lady Katheren Gordon died in Wales, and was buriedin a chappell at one of the Earle of Pembrok his dwelling- places in that c*ntrey. The Englesh histories doe much commend her for her beauty, comliness, and chastetie. " And Bacon ends her story thus: " The name of the White Rose, which had been given to her husband's false tile, was continued in common speech to her true beauty."470 PERKIN WARBECK. [ACT V.Enter Sheriff and Officers with Skelton, Astley, HERON,and JOHN A-WATER, with halters about their necks.Oxf. Look ye; behold your followers, appointedTo wait on ye in death!War. Why, peers of England,We'll lead ' em on courageously: I readA triumph over tyranny uponTheir several foreheads. -Faint not in the momentOf victory! our ends, and Warwick's head,Innocent Warwick's head, -for we are prologueBut to his tragedy, -conclude the wonderOf Henry's fears; and then the glorious raceOffourteen kings, Plantagenets, determinesIn this last issue male; Heaven be obeyed!Impoverish time of its amazement, friends,And we will prove as trusty in our paymentsAs prodigal to nature in our debts.Death? pish! ' tis but a sound; a name of air;A minute's storm, or not so much to tumbleFrom bed to bed, be massacred aliveBy some physicians, for a month or two,In hope of freedom from a fever's torments,Might stagger manhood; here the pain is pastEre sensibly ' tis felt. Be men of spirit!Spurn coward passion! so illustrious mentionShall blaze our names, and style us kings o'er Death.Daw. Away, impostor beyond precedent![Exeunt Sheriff and Officers with the Prisoners.No chronicle records his fellow.Hunt. I haveNot thoughts left: ' tis sufficient in such casesJust laws ought to proceed.Enter King HENRY, the Bishop of DURHAM, andK. Hen.HIALAS.We are resolved.SCENE III. ] PERKIN WARBECK. 471Your business, noble lords , shall find successSuch as your king impórtunes.Hunt. You are gracious.K. Hen. Perkin, we are informed, is armed to die;In that we'll honour him. Our lords shall followTo see the execution; and from henceWe gather this fit use, ¹—that public states ,As our particular bodies, taste most goodIn health when purgèd of corrupted blood. [Exeunt.EPILOGUEHERE has appeared, though in a several fashion,The threats of majesty, the strength of passion,Hopes of an empire, change offortunes; allWhat can to theatres of greatness fall ,Proving their weak foundations. Who will please,Amongst such several sights, to censure theseNo births abortive, nor a bastard brood, —Shame to a parentage or fosterhood, —May warrant by their loves all just excuses,And often find a welcome to the Muses.1 The poet seems to apply this word in the puritanical sense (then sufficiently familiar) of doctrinal or practical deduction. - Gifford.PRINTED BY J. S. VIRTUE AND CO. , LIMITED, CITY ROAD, LONDON .

66 The excellent MERMAID SERIES. " -London Spectator.THE MERMAID SERIES." " I lie and dream of your full MERMAID wine.Master Francis Beaumont to Ben Jonson.Now Publishing,In Half- Crown monthly vcls. , post 8vo, each volume containing 500 pages and anetched frontispiece, bound in cloth with cut or uncut edges,AN UNEXPURGATED EDITION OFTHE BEST PLAYSOFTHE OLD DRAMATISTS,UNDER THE GENERAL EDITORSHIP OF HAVELOCK ELLIS.IN the MERMAID SERIES are being issued the best plays of the Elizabethan and laterdramatists-plays which, with Shakespeare's works, constitute the chief contribution of the English Spirit to the literature of the world. The Editors who have given theirassistance to the undertaking include men of literary eminence, who have distinguished themselves in this field, as well as younger writers of ability.Each volume contains on an average five complete plays, prefaced by an Introductory Notice of the Author. Great care is taken to ensure, by consultation among the Editors,that the Plays selected are in every case the best and most representative-and not themost conventional, or those which have lived on a merely accidental and traditionalreputation. Afeature will be made of plays by little known writers, which although oftenso admirable are now almost inaccessible. In every instance the utmost pains is takento secure the best text, the spelling is modernised, and brief but adequate notes aresupplied. In no case do the Plays undergo any process of expurgation. It is believed that, although they may sometimes run counter to what is called modern taste, the freeand splendid energy of Elizabethan art, with its extreme realism and its extreme idealism-embodying, as it does, the best traditions of the English Drama-will not suffer from.the frankest representation.1“ The admirably selected and edited Mermaid Series of the Old Dramatists. ”-Truth.VOLUMES ALREADY PUBLISHED.?EACH CONTAINING 500 PAGES AND UPWARDS, With Steel engraved Portraits OR OTHER FRONTISPIECES.With a View of Old London showing the Bankside and its Theatres.THE BEST PLAYS OF JOHN FORD. Edited by HAVELOCK ELLIS.With a Portrait ofWilliam Wycherley, from the Picture by Sir Peter Lely.THE COMPLETE PLAYS OF WILLIAM WYCHERLEY.Edited, with an Introduction and Notes, by W. C. WARD.With a Portrait ofNathaniel Field, from the Picture at Dulwich College.NERO AND OTHER PLAYS. Edited, with Introductory Essays andNotes, by H. P. Horne, Arthur Symons, A. W. VERITY, and H. ELLIS,With a View ofthe Old Globe Theatre.THE BEST PLAYS OF WEBSTER AND TOURNEUR. Withan Introduction and Notes by JOHN ADDINGTON SYMONDS.With a Portrait ofJames Shirley, from the Picture in the Bodleian Gallery.THE BEST PLAYS OF JAMES SHIRLEY. With an Introduction by EDMUND Gosse.With a View of the Old Fortune Theatre.THE BEST PLAYS OF THOMAS DEKKER. With Introductory Essay and Notes by ERNEST RHYS.With a Portrait ofCongreve, from the Picture by Sir Godfrey Kneller.THE COMPLETE PLAYS OF WILLIAM CONGREVE.Edited and annotated by ALEX. C. EWALD.In Two Vois. , with Portraits ofBeaumont and Fletcher.THE BEST PLAYS OF BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER.With an introduction and Notes by J. ST. LOE STRACHEY.With a Portrait ofMiddleton.THE BEST PLAYS OF THOMAS MIDDLETON. With anIntroduction by ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE.With afull-length Portrait ofAlleyn, the Actor, from the Picture at Dulwich College,THE BEST PLAYS OF CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE. Edited,with Critical Memoir and Notes, by HAVELOCK ELLIS, and containing a General Introduction to the Series by J. ADDINGTON Symonds.With a Portrait ofMassinger,THE BEST PLAYS OF PHILIP MASSINGER. With a Criticaland Biographical Essay and Notes by ARTHUR SYMONS.To befollowed byTHE BEST PLAYS OF THOMAS HEYWOOD, 2 vols. , Edited by J. ADDINGTON SYMONDS and A. W. VERITY-of THOMAS OTWAY,Edited by the Hon. RODEN NOEL-of BEN JONSON, 3 Vols. , Edited by BRINSLEY NICHOLSON and C. H. HERFORD-SHADWELL, Edited byGEORGE SAINTSBURY-VANBRUGH, Edited by W. C. WARD.ALSO ARDEN OF FEVERSHAM, and other Plays attributed to Shake- speare, Edited by ARTHUR SYMONS; and THE BEST PLAYS OF CHAPMAN, MARSTÓN, ROWLEY, and FIELD, DRYDEN, APHRA BEHN, &c.VIZETELLY & CO. , 16, HENRIETTA ST. , COVENT GARDEN, LONDON,AND ALL BOOKSELLERS.

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John Ford (with Havelock Ellis introduction) (2024)

From The Art and Popular Culture Encyclopedia

Introduction by Havelock Ellis

THE BANKSIDE AND ITS THEATRES.

See also