THE QUEENE OF ARRAGON.
A Tragi-Comedie.
LONDON Printed by Tho. Cotes, for William Cooke, and are to be sold at his shop at Furnivals Inne gate in Holburne. 1640.
The Actors Names.
- THe Queene of Arragon.
- Decastro Generall of the Forces of Arragon in love with the Queene.
- Ossuna Friend to Decastro.
- Florentio Generall of the Forces of Castile enamor'd on the Queene.
- Velasco a great Commander under Florentio.
- Ascanio, the King of Castile disguisd.
- Lerma a Noble man Privie to his disguise.
- Oniate a sober Courtier.
- Sanmartino, a halfe witted Lord.
- Browfilldora, Dwarfe to Sanmartino.
- Floriana, wife to Sanmartino.
- Cleantha, a wittie Court Lady.
- Captaine.
- Servants.
- Severall Souldiers.
The Prologue at Court.
HAd not obedience ov'r rul'd the Authors feare
And Iudgement too, this humble peece had nere
Approacht so high a Majestie, not writ
By the exact and subtile rules of wit;
Ambitious for the splendor of this night
But fashion'd up in hast for his owne delight.
This, by my Lord, with as much zeale as ere
Warm'd the most loyall heart, is offered here
To make this night your pleasure, although we
Who are the Actors, feare twill rather be
Your patience: and if any mirth; we may
sadly suspect, twill rise quite the wrong way.
But you have mercy sir, and from your eye
Bright Madam, never yet did lightning flye,
But vitall beames of favour such as give
A growth to all, who can deserve to live.
Why should the Authour tremble then, or we
Distresse our hopes, and such tormentors be,
Of our owne thoughts, since in those happie times
We live, when mercie's greater than the crimes
The Prologue at the Fryers.
ERe we begin▪ that no man may repent
Two shillings and his time; the Author sent
The Prologue, with the errors of his Play,
That who will, may take his money and away.
First for the Plot, it's no way intricate
By crosse deceits in love, nor so high in state,
That we might have given out in our Play-bill,
This day's the Prince writ by Nick Machivill.
The Language too is easie, such as fell
Unstudyed from his pen, not like a spell
Bigge with misterious words, such as inchant
The halfe witted, and confound the ignorant.
Then what must needes afflict the Amorist,
No Virgin here in breeches, casts a mist
Before her Lovers eyes; No Ladies tell
How their blood boyles▪ how high their veines doe swell.
But what is worse, no bawdy mirth is here;
(The wit of bottle Ale, and double Beere)
To make the wife of Citizen protest,
And Country Iustice sweare, twas a good Iest.
Now sirs you have the errors of his wit:
Like or dislike, at your owne perills be't.
THE QVEENE OF ARRAGON.
Actus Primus.
Scena Prima.
Enter Sanmartino and Cleantha.
Clean.
MY Lord, lets change the subject: Love is worne
So thred-bare out of fashion, and my faith
So little leanes to vowes.
San.
The rage of time,
Or sicknesse, first must ruine that bright Fabrique,
Nature tooke pride to build.
Clean.
I thanke my youth then
For th' tender of your service: Tis the last
Good turne it did me, But by this my feares
Instruct me, when the old bald man cal'd Time
Comes stealing on me, and shall steale away
What you call beauty: my neglected face
Must be inforc't to goe in quest for a new
Knight Errant.
San.
Slander not my constant faith,
Nor doubt the care fate hath to stoppe the Motion
Of envious Time, might it indanger so
Supreame a beautie.
Clean.
Sure my Lord fate hath
More serious businesse, or Divines make bold
T' instruct us in a scisme. But grant I could
Induce my selfe, (which I despaire I shall)
To heare and talke that emptie nothing Love
Ist now in season, when an Armie lyes
Before our Citie gates, and every houre
A battery expected? Deere my Lord
[Page]Let's seale our testament, and prepare for heaven:
And as I am inform'd by them, who seeme
To know some part oth' way, Loves not the neerest
Path that leades thither.
San.
Madam! he is but
A Coward Lover, whom or death or hell
Can fright from's Mistris. And for danger now
Threatning the Citie; How can I so arme
My selfe, as by your favour, proofe against
All stratagems of warre.
Cleant.
Your Lordship then
Shall walke as safe, as if a Lapland witch
(You will not envie me the honour of
The metaphor) preserv'd you shot-free. But
Who is your Confessor? Yet spare his name
His function will forgive the glory of it.
Sure he's ill read in Cases to allow
A married Lord the freedome of this Courtship.
San.
Can you thinke Madam that I trust my sinnes
(But vertues are those loves I pay your beauty)
Toth' councell of a Cassock? Who hath art
To judge of my confession; must have had
At least a Privie Chamberer to his Father.
We of the Court commit not as the vulgar,
Dull ignorant sinnes. Then that I'm married Madam
Is rather safety to our Love.
Clean.
My heart!
How sicke am I oth' sudden? Good my Lord
Call your dwarfe hither.
San.
Garaganta! Boy.
Enter Browfilldora.
Clean.
Preethee, thy pedegree.
San.
Madam! What meane you?
Clean.
O any thing, but to divert from Love.
Another word of Courtship, and I swound.
Garag.
My Ancestors were Giants Madam. Giants
Pure Spanish, who disdain'd to mingle with
The blood of Goth or Moore. Their mighty actions
In a small letter Nature Printed on
Your little Servant.
Clean.
How so very little?
Gar.
By the decay of Time, and being forc't
From fertile pastures to the barren hills
Of Biskay. Even in trees you may observe
[Page]The wonder, which transplanted to a soile
Lesse happie, lose in groath. Is not the once
Huge body of the Roman Empire, now
A very Pigmie?
Cleant.
But why change you not
That so Gigantick name of Brumfilldora.
Gar.
Spight of malignant Nature, Ile preserve
The memory of my forefathers: They shall live
In me contracted.
San.
Madam! lets returne
To th' love we last discourst on.
Clean.
This my Lord
Is much more serious. What course thing is that?
Enter Oniate and Floriana.
Flor.
I owe you sir, for th' pleasure of this walke.
Oniate.
Madam it was to me the highest honour.
Exit. Oniate.
Clean.
Welcome ó welcome to redeeme me. What
Can the best wit of woman fancie, we
Have beene discoursing of?
Floria.
Sure not of love?
Clean.
Of that most ridiculous hobby horse Love;
That foole that fooles the world. That Spaniell Love
That fawnes the more tis kickt.
San.
Will you betray me?
Clean.
Thy Lord hath so protested Floriana;
Vowed such an Altar to my beutie, swoare
So many oathes, and such prophane oathes too;
To be religious in performing all
That's impious toward heaven, and to a Ladie
Most ruinous.
Floria.
Good Cleantha: all your detraction
Winnes no beleefe on my suspition.
Cleant.
Be credulous and be abused. Floriana!
There's no vice so great as to thinke him vertuous:
Goe mount your milke-white steede fit Lanceloi
Your little squire attends you there. In suburbs
Inchanted Castles are where Ladies waite
To be deliver'd by your mighty hand,
Goe and protest there.
San.
I thanke your favour Madam.
Exit. Sanmar.
Clea.
It is not so much worth sir, come weele follow.
Flor.
But stay Cleantha. Prethee what begot
That squeamish looke, that scornefull wry oth' mouth
When Oniate parted?
Clean.
[Page]Why? Thou hadst
So strange a fellow in thy Companie
His Garbe was so uncourtly, I grew sicke.
Flor.
He is a Gentleman: and adde to that
Makes good the Title.
Clean.
Haply he may so
And haply he's enamor'd on thy beautie.
Flo.
On mine Cleantha?
Clean.
Yes deere Floriana.
Yet neither danger to thy chastitie,
Nor blemish to thy fame. Custome approves it.
But I owe little to my memory,
If ere I saw him 'mong the greater Ladies:
Sure he's some suburbe Courtier.
Flori.
He's Noble:
And hath a soule. A thing is questiond much
In most of the gay youths, whom you converse with.
Clean.
But how disorderly his haire did hang?
Flor.
Yet 'twas his owne.
Clean▪
How ill turn'd up his beard?
And for his cloathes.
Florian.
Though not fresh every morning,
Yet in the fashion.
Clean.
Yes ith' soberfashion:
Which Courtiers weare who hope to be imploy'd
And aime at businesse. But he's not gentile:
Not discomposed enough to Courta Ladie.
Flor.
His thoughts are much more serious.
Clean.
Guard me Fortune▪
I would not have the Court take notice that
I walked one houre with that state Aphorisme,
Each Autumne to renew my youth. Let us
Discourse with Lords whose heads and legges move more
Than doe their tongues, and to as good a sense.
Who snatching from my hand a Glove, can sigh
And print a kisse, and then returne it backe.
Who on my buske, even with a pin can write
The Anagrame of my Name: Present it humbly
Fall backe and smile.
Flor.
Cleantha! I perceive
There is small hope of thy conversion;
Thou art resolv'd to live in this heresie.
Clean.
Yes: since tis the Religion of our Sex.
Sweete Floriana, I will not yet suffer
[Page]For unregarded truth Court persecution.
Enter Ossuna and Oniate with divers Souldiers.
But what are they appeare there?
Flor.
Wee'le away.
Exeunt Floria. and Cleantha.
Ossuna.
This is the place for enterview. You who'ar
Deputed for this service from the Lord
Florentio, use such caution as befits
Your charge. How ere your Generalls persons safe:
The Lord Decastro having past his word.
Oniate.
Yet tis my wonder, that Florentio
A Souldier so exact, practis'd in all
The mysteries of warre and peace, should trust
Himself where th' enemies faith must best secure him
Ossun.
The great Decastro sir, whom our late King
Deputed regent at his death, and whom
The Kingdome judgeth fit to marry with
His onely heire the present Queene (though she
Disdaine his love and our desires) hath proved
To time and fortune, that he feares no danger
But what may wound his honour. How can then
Florentio (though he now set downe before
Our Citie with so vast an Army) choose
A place for enterview, by Art and Nature
So fortified; as where Decastro's faith
Makes it impregnable?
Oniate.
Distrust my Lord,
Is the best Counceler to great designes:
Our confidence betrayes us. But betweene
These two are other seeds of Jealousie:
Such as would almost force Religion breake
Her tying vowes, authorize perjurie,
And make the scrupulous Casuist say, that faith
Is the fooles vertue. They both love the Queene,
Decastro building on his high deserts,
And vote of Arragon: Florentio on
The favour he gain'd from her Majestie
When here he lived imploy'd by his great Master
King of Castile.
Ossuna.
Such politicke respects
May warrant the bad statesman to darke actions.
But both these Generalls by a Noble warre,
Resolve to try their fate.
Oniate.
But here my Lord
[Page]Enter Sanmartino.
Is a full period to all serious thought.This Lord is so impertinent, yet still
Vpon the whisper.
Ossuna.
He's a mischiefe Sir,
No Court is safe from.
Oniate.
What fine trickes he showes
Each morning on his gennet, but to gaine
A female Vision from some halfe-open'd window,
And if a Lady smile by accident
Or but in scorne of him; yet he kinde soule
Interprets it as Prophesie to some
Neere favour to ensue at night.
Ossuna.
I wonder
What makes him thought a Wit.
Oniate.
A copper wit,
Which fooles let passe for currant. So false coine
Such very Alchimie, that who vents him
For ought but parcell asse, may be in danger:
Looke on him, and in little there see drawne
The picture of the youth is so admired,
Of the spruce Sirs: whom Ladies and their women
Call the fine Gentlemen.
Ossuna.
What are those papers,
With such a sober brow, he lookes upon?
Oniate.
Nor platforme, nor intelligence, but a Prologue;
He comes to whisper to one of the Maids
Ith' Privie chamber after supper.
Ossuna.
I praise the courage of his folly yet,
Whom feare cannot make wiser.
San,
My good Lord!
Brave Oniate! Saw you not the Generall?
Onia.
He's upon entrance here. And how my Lord?
I saw your Lordship turning over papers,
Whats the discovery?
San.
It may import
Decastro's knowledge. Never better language
Or neater wit. A paper of such verses
Writ by th' exactest hand.
Ossuna.
In time of businesse
As serious as our safety, to intrude
The dreames of madmen?
San.
My Judicious Lord!
[Page]It with the favour of your Lordship may
Concerne the Generall. Such high rapture,
In admiration of the Queene, whom he
Pretends to Love. How will her Majestie
Smile on his sute, when in the heate of businesse
He not neglects this amorous way to woe her?
Enter Decastro.
Decast.
No man presume t'advance a foot. My Lord
Ossuna I desire your eare.
San.
My Lord
I have a peece here of such elegant wit.
Decast.
Your pardon good my Lord; we le finde an houre
Lesse serious to advise upon your papers,
And then at large we'le whisper.
San.
As you please
My Lord youle pardon the errour of my dutie.
Exit Sanmar.
Ossun.
The Queene my Lord gave free accesse to what
I spoke oth' publicke, but when I began
To mention love.
Decast.
How did she frowne? Or with
What murdering seorne, heard she Decastro named?
Love! of thy laberinth of Art, what path
Left I untroden? Humbly I have labor'd
To win her favour: and when that prevail'd not;
The Kingdome, in my quarrell, vowed to emptie
The veines of their great body.
Ossuna.
Sir her heart
Is mightier than misfortune. Though her youth
Soft as some consecrated virgin waxe,
Seeme easie for impression: Yet her vertue
Hard as a rocke of Diamond, breakes all
The battery of the waves.
Decastro.
Unkind and cruell!
Ossu.
She charg'd me tell you that a faith lesse Moore
Who had gain'd honour onely by the ruine
Of what we hold religious, sooner she
Would welcome to her bed; than who t' his Queene
And Love had beene a Rebell.
Decast.
How? A rebell?
The peoples suffrage, which inaugurats Princes,
Hath warranted my actions.
Ossun.
But she answeres
The suttle Arts of faction, not free vote
Commanded her restraint.
Decast.
[Page]May even those starres
Whose influence made me great, turne their aspects
To blood and ruine; if ambition rais'd
The appetite of Love. Her beauty hath
A power more Soveraigne, than th' Easterne slave
Acknowledg'd ever in his Idoll King.
To that I bowed a subject. But when I
Discover'd that her fancie fixt upon
Florentio (Generall now of th' enemies Armie)
I let the people use their severe way:
And they restrain'd her.
Ossuna.
But my Lord their guilt
Is made your crime. Yet all this new affliction
Disturbs her not to anger, but disdaine.
Decast.
She hath a glorious spirit. Yet the world
The envious world it selfe must justifie;
That howsoever Fortune yeelded up
The Scepter to my power; I did but kisse it
And offer'd it againe into her hand.
Enter Florentio, Velasco, and others.
Oniate.
My Lord, the Generall of Castile, Florentio.
Decast.
He's safely welcome. Now let each man keepe
At a due distance. I have here attended
Your Lordships presence.
Floren.
O my Lord! ar' we
Whom Love obleigeth to the same alleigance,
Brought hither on these termes?
Decast.
Th' are termes of honour.
And I yet never knew to frame excuse,
Where that begot the quarrell.
Floren.
Yet me thinkes
We might have found another way to it.
We might have sought out danger, where the proud
Insulting Moore, profaines our holy places.
The noise of Warre had beene no trouble then,
But now too much 'twill fright the gentle eare
Of her we both are vowed to serve.
Decastro.
That Love
Which armes us both, beares witnesse, that I had
Much rather have encounterd lightning; than
Create the least distraction to her peace.
But since the vote of Arragon decrees
That my long Service hath the justest claime
To challenge her regard; Thus I must stand
[Page]Arm'd to make good the title.
This vaine language
Scarce moves my pitty. What desert can rise
So high to merit her? Were each short moment
Oth' longest lived Commander lengthen'd to
An age, and that exposed to dangers mighty
As Cowards framethem; can you thinke his service
Might challenge her regard? Like th' heavenly bounty
She may distribute favour: But 'tis sinne
To say our merits may pretend a title.
Decastro.
You talke Sir like a Courtier.
Floren.
But my Lord
You'le find a souldier in this Arme: which strengthen'd
By such a cause, may levell mountaines high
As those the Giants (emblems of your thoughts)
Piled up to have scaled heaven.
Decasto.
That must be
Decided by the sword. And if my Lord
Our enterview hath no more sober end,
Than a dispute so froward; Let us make
The trumpet drowne the noise.
Floren.
You shall not want
That Musique. But before we yeelded up
Our reason unto fury; I desired
We might expostulate the ground of this
So fatall warre: and bring you to that low
Obedience Nature placed you in.
Decast.
My eare
Attends you.
Floren.
Where is then that humble zeale
You owe a Mistresse; if you can throw off
That duty which you owe her as your Queene?
What justice (that faire rule of humane actions)
Can you pretend for taking Armes?
Decastro.
Pray forward.
Floren.
Ile not denie (for from an enemie
Ile not detract) during her nonage, when
The publicke choyce, and her great fathers will,
Enthron'd you in the government; you manag'd
Affaires with prudence equall to the fame
You gain'd▪ And when your sword did fight her quarrell,
Twas crownd with victory.
Decast.
I thanke your memory.
Floren.
But hence ambition and ingratitude
[Page]Drew onely venome. For by these great Actions▪
You labor'd not t' advance her state or honour;
But subtly wrought upon the peoples love:
A love begot by errour, following still
Apparencie not truth.
Decast.
You conster fairely.
Floren.
The sunne is not more visible, when not
One cloud wrinckles the brow of heaven. For
On that false strength you had ith' multitude,
You swel'd to insolence: dared court your Queene:
Boasting your merit; like some wanton Tyrant
Ith' vanitie of a new conquest. And
When you perceiv'd her judgement did instruct her
To frowne on the attempt; profainely 'gainst
All Lawes of Love and Majestie, you made
The people in your quarrell seize upon
The Sacred person of the fairest Queene,
Story ere boasted.
Decast.
Have you done my Lord?
Floren.
Not yet. This injurie provok'd my master
To raise these mighty Forces for her rescue:
And named me Generall, whose ayme is not
A vaine ambition, but t' advance her service
Ere we begin to punish, take this Offer:
Restore the Queene to liberty, with each
Due circumstance that such a Majestie
May challenge, freely to make choyce of whom
She shall advance to th' honour of her bed.
If your deserts beare that high rate you mention;
Why should you doubt your fortune? On these termes
The King, King of Castile may be induced
To pardon th' errour of your ruine.
Decast.
Thus
In short my answere. How unlimited
So ere my power hath beene, my reason and
My love hath circumscrib'd it. True, the Queene
Stands now restrain'd: But tis by the decree
Of the whole Kingdome, least her errour should
Perswade her to some man lesse worthy.
Floren.
How?
Decast.
Lesse worthy than my selfe. For so they judge
The proudest subject to a Forraigne Prince.
But when you mention love, where are your blushes?
What can you answere for the practising
[Page]The Queenes affection, when Embassador
You lay here from Castile; pretending onely
Affaires importing both the Kingdomes? Nor
Can you my Lord be taxt by your discretion,
That by the humblest Arts of Love, you labour
To win so bright a beauty, and a Queene
So potent. Your affection lookes not here,
Without an eye upon your profit.
Floren.
Witnesse Love.
Decast.
No protestation. If you will withdraw
Your Forces from our Kingdome, and permit
Us to our Lawes and Government; That peace
Which hath continued many ages Sacred,
Stands firme betweene us. But if not.
Floren.
To Arme.
Decast.
Pray stay my Lord. Doth not your Lordship see
Th' advantage I have in the place: with how
Much ease I may secure my fortune from
The greatest danger of your Forces?
Flo.
Ha!
Twas inconsiderate in me. But I trusted
To th' honour of your word, which youle not violate.
Decast.
Goe safely off my Lord. And now be dumbe;
All talke of peace: Wee'l parley in the drumme.
Exeunt severall wayes, the Drumme beating.
Actus Secundi.
Scena Prima.
Enter Sanmartino, Captaine, Souldier, and Garaganta.
Captain.
COme on you Atlasses of Arragon:
You by whose powers the Castilian cloud
Was forc't to vanish. We have ferk'd Florentio,
In the right Arme: made the enamor'd Donn
Retire to dolefull Tent.
Sanmar.
We sallyed bravely.
Cap.
Thou didst ith' sally fight like lightning Conde,
Let th' ayre play with thy plume, most puisant Peere.
No Conde Sanmartino now; but Conde
S. George, that Cappadocian man at Armes,
Thou hast done wonders, wonders big with story,
[Page]Fit to be sung in loftie Epick straine:
For writing which the Poet shall behold,
That which creates a Conde, gold. Gold which
Shall make him wanton with some suburbe Muse,
And Hypocrene flow with Canary billow.
Th'art high in feate of Arme.
San.
Captaine I thinke
I did my part.
Captain.
Base is the wight that thinkes,
Let Condes small in spirit drinke harsh sherry,
Then quarrel with promooting knights, and fine for't
Thou art in mettall mighty, tough as steele
As Bilboe or Toledo steele. Fight on.
Let Acres sincke, and bancke of money melt,
Forsake thy Ladies lappe, and sleepe with us
Upon the bed of honour, the chill earth.
Tis that will make thee held a potent Peere,
Mong men oth' Pike, of buffe, and bandeliere.
San.
Thou speakest brave language Captaine,
Captain.
Ile maintaine
Tis Arragonian, Conde.
Garagan.
Captaine Cedar,
Though in thy language lofty, give a shrub
Leave to salute thee. Sure we two are neere
In blood and great attempt. Don Hercules
VVas as I read in Chaldeon Chronicle,
Our common Ancestor. Don Hercules
Who rifled Nimph on top of Apennine.
Captain.
Small Imp avant.
Garagan.
Stout sturdie Oke, that growes
So high in field of Mars, ô let no tempest
Shake thee from hence. And now I have with labour
Attain'd thy language, Ile thy truchman be,
Interpret for thee to those smaller soules,
Who wonder when they understand not. Soules!
Whom Courtiers gaudie outside captives,
And plume of Coronell.
Captain.
I must expire.
Not talke to fish. Seest thou that man of match
Though small in stature, mighty he's in soule,
And rich in gifts of mind, though poore in robes:
Reward like Phillips heire his daring arme,
Which fetcht thee off from danger. Once againe
Most doughty Don adieu.
Garagan.
[Page]Great Don Saltpeeter,
I am the servant of thy famed caliver.
San.
These are strong lines. Now friend! Art thou oth' garison?
Soul.
If't please your Lordship.
San.
It doth not please me,
It is indifferent. I care not what thou art.
Art thou extreamely poore?
Soul.
Ift please your Lordship.
San.
No not that neither. Why should I maligne
So far thy fortune, as to wish thee poore?
Twere safer for my purse, if thou wert rich:
Then all reward were base.
Soul.
Ift please your Lordship.
San.
O no more Prologue. Prethee the first Scene,
To th' businesse man.
Soul.
Then I must tell your Lordship.
I scorne that wealth makes you thus wanton, and
That wit which fooles you. Did the royall favour
Shine but on you, without enlarging warmth
To any other, I in this torne outside
Should laugh at you, if insolent.
San.
This is saucie.
Soul.
I tell thee petulant Lord, Ile cut thy throate
Unlesse thou learne more honour.
San.
What shall I doe?
Enter Floriana, and Cleantha.
But see Cleantha. Not to be made Grande,
VVould I she should discover me in parley
VVith such course cloathes. There fellow take that gold,
And let me see thy face no more. Away.
Throwes backe the money.
Soul.
There tis agen. I will not owe one houre
Of mirth to such a bounty. I can starve
At easier rate, than live beholding to
The boast of any giver. Lord! I scorne
Thee and that gold which first created thee.
Exit. Sould.
Flor.
That Souldier seem'd to carry anger in
His looke my Lord.
San.
What should his anger move me?
Clean.
O no my Lord: The world speaks wonders of
Your mighty puissance.
Flor.
Tis my joy y'are safe.
But why adventured you into this quarrell?
Cleant.
The Queene will hardly thanke your valour: since
[Page]They of Castile profest themselves her Souldiers.
San.
The Queene must pardon courage: Men who are
Of daring Spirit, so they may but fight
Examine not the cause.
Flori.
She doth expect us.
Clean.
I will attend her here. For here she gives
Decastro audience. I must not loose
This Lord yet, it so neere concernes my mirth.
San.
Madam! I wonder with what confidence
You after such an injury, dare indanger
Discourse with me.
Cleant.
I injure you my Lord?
Whose favour I have courted with more Zeale
Than well my Sexe can warrant? Triumph not
Too much upon my weakenesse; cause you have
Got victory ore my heart, take not delight
To make my griefe your sport.
San.
Be witty still,
And keepe me for a Trophie of your pride,
I hope to see that beauty at an ebbe;
Where will be then your over-flow of servants?
You'le then repent your pride.
Clean.
O never, never.
If you'le particularize your vowes to me;
You who toth'title of the Courtly Lord,
Have added that of valiant. And beshrew me,
She's no good huswife of her fame, that wants
A daring servant.
Sanmar.
This perhaps may worke.
Cleant.
If she live single; he preserves her name
And scarce admits a whisper, that the Jealous
May conster points at her. And if she marry;
He awes the husband, if by chance or weaknesse,
She have offended.
San.
This cannot be fiction.
Clean.
Then if she use but civill complement
To a Courtier Batchelor; He streight be speakes
The Licence, and the Favours, and calls in
Some wit into his Councell for the Posie,
While I feele no tentation to such folly
But with a married Lord.
San.
How gentle Madam?
Clea.
Our walkes are priviledg'd, our whispers safe,
No feare of laying contracts to my charge,
[Page]Nor much of scandall. And if there be cause,
Who is so fond a Ghamster of his life,
As meerely out of spleene to stake it? But
My Lord I now suspect you conster'd ill
That language I used to your Lady, when
I told her of your love. But I presume
You were not so dull sighted as in that
Not to discerne the best disguise for love.
San.
What a suspicious asse was I? How captious?
I nere mistrusted my owne wit before.
Mischiefe how dull was I?
Clean.
Pray turne your face
Away. Now know when worth and valour are
Led on by love to win my favour. But
The Queene.
Enter Queene Decastro, Ossuna, Floriana, &c.
San.
Divine Cleantha! Noblest Lady!
Decast.
Ossuna let me begge thy care. Though we
Bravely repulst the enemie: They seeme
To threaten a new assault.
Ossuna.
Command your servant.
Decast.
Beare then a vigilant eye, and by your scouts
Learne if they any new attempt prepare.
Exit. Ossuna.
May't please your Majestie, command these many
Eares from your presence.
Queen.
Good my Lord! you who
Have power to guide your Queene, may make our presence
Or full or emptie as you please.
Decast.
Then with
Your licence Madam they may all with draw.
Queen.
Not with our licence. If your usurped greatnesse
Will banish all attendance from our person;
I must remaine alone. But not a man
Stirre hence with our good liking.
Decast.
If your will
(Averse from sober councell) would submit
To safe advice.
Queen.
You have instructed it
To more obedience, than I guesse my birth
Did ere intend. But pray my Lord teach me
To know my fault and I will finde amendment
If not, repentance for it.
Decast.
Then great Madam
[Page]I must acquaint you that the supreame Law
Of Princes, is the peoples safety: Which
You have infring'd, and drawne thereby into
The inward parts of this great state a most
Contagious Feaver.
Queene.
Pray no Metaphor.
Decast.
You have invited warre to interrupt
With its rude noise, the musique of our peace,
A forraigne enemie gathers the fruite,
The sweate and labour of your subjects planted.
In the coole shadow of the Vine we pruin'd
He wantonly lyes downe, and roughly bids
The owner presse the grape: that with the juyce
His blood may swell up to lascivious heates.
Queene.
My Lord I answere not th' effects of war,
But I must pay Castile all thankefull service,
For his faire charitie.
Decast.
Doe you then Madam
Reckon on mischiefe as a charitie?
Queene.
Yes, such a mischiefe as is mercifull,
And I a Queene opprest. But how dares he
Whose duty ought with reverence obey,
And not dispute the councells of his Princesse,
Question my actions? Whence my Lord springs this
Ill tutor'd priviledge?
Decast.
From the zeale I owe
The honour of our Nation: Over which
Kings rule but at the Courtesie of Time.
Queen.
You are too bold: And I must tell your pride
It swells to insolence. For were your nature
Not hoodwink'd by your interest, you would praise
The vertue of his courage, who tooke Armes
To an injured Ladies rescue.
Decast.
Twas ambition,
Greedy to make advantage of that breach
Betweene you and your people, arm'd Castile;
Unpittyed else you might have wept away
The houres of your restraint.
Queen.
Poore erring man!
Could thy Arts raise a tempest blacker yet
Such as would fright thy selfe. It could not for
One moment cloud the splendor of my soule.
Misfortune may benight the wicked, she
Who knowes no guilt can sinke beneath no feare:
Decast.
[Page]Your Majestie mistakes the humble aime
Of my addresse. I come not to disturbe
Th' harmonious calme your soule enjoyes: May pleasure
Live there enthron'd, till you your selfe shall wooe
Death to enlarge it. May felicities
Great as th' Idaeas of Philosophie
Waite still on your delight. May fate conspire
To make you rich and envied.
Queen.
Pray my Lord
Explaine the riddle. By the cadence of
Your language, I could guesse you have intents
Farre gentler than your actions.
Decast.
If your eare
Great Madam, would convey into your heart
The story of my love. My love, a flame.
Queen.
Leave off this history of love, and flame▪
And honestly confesse your feares my Lord,
Least Castile should correct you.
Decast.
Correct me?
No Madam, I have forc't them t' a retreate.
And given my fine young Generall cause to wish
He had not left his amorous attempts
On Ladies, to assault our Citie.
Queen.
But he is not wounded?
Decast.
Not to death perhaps,
But certainely w' have open'd him a veine,
Will cure the Feaver of his blood.
Queene.
O stay!
Decast.
Torment! And doth she weepe? I might have falne
Downe from some murdering precipice to dust,
And mist the mercie of one teare: though it
Would have redeem'd me backe to life agen.
Accurst be that felicitie that must
Depend on womans passion.
Queene.
Florentio!
If in my quarrell thou too suddenly
Art lost ith' shades of death; ô let me finde
The holy vault where thy pale earth must lye,
There I will grow and wither.
Decast.
This is strange!
My heart swells much too bigge to be kept in.
Queen.
But if that Providence which rules the world
Hath to preserve the stocke of vertue, kept
Thee yet alive.
Decast.
[Page]And what, if yet alive?
Pray recollect your reason and consider
My long and faithfull service to your crowne:
The fame of my progenitors, and that
Devotion the whole Kingdome beares me. How
Hath nature punisht me, that bringing all
The strength of argument to force your judgement,
I cannot move your love?
Queen.
My Lord you plead
With so much arrogance, and tell a story
So gallant for your selfe, as if I were
Exposed a prize toth' cunningst Orator.
Decast.
No Madam, humbler far than the tand slave
kneeles.
Tyed to the Oare, I heere throw downe my selfe
And all my victories. Dispose of me
To death, for what hath life, merits esteeme?
What tye, Alas, can I have to the World?
Since you disdaine my love.
Floria.
Will you permit
The Generall kneele so long?
Queen.
Feare not Floriana,
My Lord knowes how to rise, though I should strive
To hinder it.
Decast.
Here statue-like Ile fix
For ever, till your pity (for your love
I must despaire) enforce a life within me.
Alarum and Enter Ossuna.
Ossuna.
O my Lord!
To arme, to arme. The enemie encouraged
By a strange leader, wheel'd about the towne,
And desperately surpris'd the carelesse guard.
One gate's already theirs.
Decast.
Have I your licence.
Queen.
To augment your owne command, and keepe me still
An humble captive.
Decast.
Madam! your disdaine
Distracts me more, than all th' assaults of fortune.
Exeunt all but the Queene, Floriana, and Cleantha.
Queen.
My fate! O whether dost thou leade me? Why
Is my youth destin'd to the stormes of warre?
What is my crime, you heavenly powers! that it
Must challenge blood for expiation!
Clean.
Madam!
Queen.
Fortune! O cruell! For which side soe're
[Page]Is lost, I suffer: either in my people,
Or slaughter of my friends. No victory
Can now come welcome, the best chance of warre
Makes me how ere a mourner.
Cleant.
Madam, you
Have lost your vertue, which so often vowed
A cleere aspect, what cloud soever darken'd
Your present glory.
Queen.
I had thoughts Cleantha:
But they are vanisht: what shall we invent
To take off feare and trouble from this houre▪
Poore Floriana. Thou art trembling now
With thought of wounds and death to which the courage
Of thy feirce husband like a headstrong jade,
May runne away with him. But cleere thy sorrowes.
If he fall in this quarrell, thou shalt have
Thy choise 'mong the Castilian Lords. And give
My judgement faith, there be brave men emong them.
Flor.
Madam, I have vowed my life to a Cloyster
Should I survive my Lord.
Queen.
And thou art fearefull
Thou shalt be forc't to make thy promise good.
Alasse poore soule! Inclosure and course dyet,
Much Disciple and early prayer, will ill
Agree with thy complection. There's Cleantha!
She hath a heart so wean'd from vanitie,
To her a Nunnery would be a Pallace.
Clean.
Yes, if your Majestie were Abbesse. Madam,
But Cloyster up the fine young Lords withus,
And ring us up each midnight to a Masque
In steed of Mattins; And I stand prepar'd
To be profest without probation.
Drum beats.
Flor.
Harke! What noyse is that?
Queen.
Tis that of death and mischiefe.
My griefes! but Ile discemble them. Yet why,
Cleantha being the sole beautious Idoll
Of all the superstitious youth at Court;
Remainst thou yet unmarried?
Cleant.
Madam I
Have many servants but not one so valiant
As dares attempt to marry me.
Queen.
There's not a wit but under some feign'd name
Implores thy beauty, sleepe cannot close up
Thy eyes, but the sad world benighted is,
[Page]Or else their sonnets are Apocriphall.
And when thou wakest the Larke salutes the day,
Breaking from the bright East of thy faire eyes.
And if mongthy admirers there be some
Poore drossie braine who cannot rime thy praise,
He wooes in sorry Prose.
Enter Servant.
Ser.
Halfe of the Citie
Already is possest by th' enemie,
Our souldiers flye from the Assailants, who
With moderation use their victory.
So far from drawing blood, th' abstaine from spoyle.
Queene.
My comforts now grow charitable, This
Is the first dawning of some happier fortune.
Flor.
Where did you leave my Lord?
Ser.
Retiring hither.
Queen.
And your good nature will in time Cleantha
Beleeve all flattery for truth.
Clean.
In time
I shall not. But forth' present Madam give
Leave to my youth to thinke I may be prays'd,
And merit it. Hereafter when I shall
Owe Art my beauty, I shall grow perhaps
Suspicious there's small faith in Poetrie.
Que.
Canst thou thinke of hereafter? Poore Cleanthal
Hereafter is that time th'art bound to pray
Against. Hereafter is that enemie
That without mercie will destroy thy face,
And what's a Lady then?
Clean.
A wretched thing.
A very wretched thing. So fcorn'd ánd poore
Twill scarce deserve mans pittie. And Ime sure
No Almes can ere releeve it.
Queen.
Floriana,
You yeeld too much to feare. Misfortune brings
Sorrow enough: Tis envie to our selves,
T'augment it by prediction.
Enter Sanmartino.
Cleant.
See your Lord.
San.
Fly Madam fly. The Armie of Castile
Conducted by an unknowne leader, masters
The Towne. Decastro yeelding up his fate
To the prevailing enemie is fled.
Cleant.
And shall the Queene flye from her friends my Lord?
Sanmar.
[Page]You have reason Madam. I begin to finde
Which way the Gale of favour now will blow,
I will addresse to the most fortunate.
Exit. Sanmar.
Queene.
Some Musique there, my thoughts grow full of trouble,
Ile recollect them.
Clean.
May it please you Madam
To heare a song presented me this morning.
Queen.
Play any thing.
During the Song, Enter Ascanio, Lerma, Sanmartino, &c.
Ascanio.
Cease the uncivill murmur of the drum:
Nothing sound now but gentle, such as may not
Disturbe her quiet eare. Are you sure Lerma
Th' obedient Souldier hath put up his sword?
Lerma.
The Citizen and souldier gratulate
Each other, as divided friends new meeting.
Nor is there execution done but in pursute
Of th' enemie without the walls.
Asca.
Tis very well. My Lord is that your Queene?
San.
It is the Queene sir.
Asca.
Temper'd like the Orbs:
Which while we mortalls weary life in battell,
Move with perpetuall harmonie. No feare
Ecclipseth the bright lustre of her cheeke.
While we who infants were swath'd up in steele,
And in our cradle luld a sleepe by th' Cannon,
Grow pale at danger.
San.
Ile acquaint her sir
That you attend here.
Ascanio.
Not for a diamond
Bigge as our Apennine. She's heavenly faire.
And had not Nature plac't her in a throne;
Her beauty yet beares so much Majestie,
It would have forc't the World to throw it selfe,
A captive at her feete. But see, she moves!
I feele a flame within me, which doth burne
Too neere my heart: And tis the first that ever
Did scorch me there.
San.
Madam here's that brave Souldier
Which reinforc't the Armie of Castile.
His name as yet unknowne.
Ascanio.
And must be so.
Nor did I merit name before this houre,
In which I serve your Majestie, enjoy
[Page]The fortune of my sword your liberty.
And since your Rebell subjects have denyed
Obedience, here receive it, from us strangers.
Queen.
I know nor sir to whom I owe the debt,
But finde how much I stand obleig'd.
Ascanio.
You owe it
To your owne vertue Madam, and that care
Heaven had to keepe part of it selfe on earth
Unruin'd. When I saw the Souldier flye,
Sent hither from Castile to force your rescue,
Their Generall hurt almost to death. I urg'd
Them with the memory of their former deedes,
Deeds famed in War. And so far had my voyce
(Speaking your name) power to confirme their spirits
That they return'd with a brave fury, and
Yeeld you up now your owne humbled Arragon.
Queen.
My ignorance doth still perplex me more.
And to owe thankes yet not to know to whom,
Nor how to expresse a gratitude, will cloud
The glory of your victory, and make
Me miserable however.
Ascanio.
I must pennance
My blood with absence, for it boyles too high. aside
When we have order'd your affaires, my name
Shall take an honour from your knowledge Madam.
Queen.
You have corrected me. Sir we'le expect
The houre your selfe shall name, when we may serve.
Ascanio.
Ime conquer'd in my victory. But Iletry
A new assault: And overcome, or dye.
Exeunt.
Actus Tertius.
Scena Prima.
Enter Velasco and Oniate.
Oniate.
MY Lord it shewes a happie Discipline
Where the obedient souldier yeelds respect
To such severe commands. Now when victory
Gives licence to disorder.
Velasco.
Sir our Generall
The Lord Florentio, is a glorious Master
In th' art of war. And though time makes him not
Wise at th' expence of weakenesse or diseases; yet
I have beheld him by the easie motion
But of his eye, represse sedition,
When it contem'd the frowne of Majestie
For never he, who by his Princes smile
Stood great at Court, attain'd such love and awe
With that fierce viper the repining people.
Onia.
Our Kingdome owes its safety to that power.
For how dejected looked our Majestrate
When conquest gave admittance to the Soludier▪
But how their feares for sooke them, when they saw
You entrie with such silcence?
Velasco.
Sir, c [...]astile
Aim'd not at spoile or ruine in this warre,
But to redresse that insolence, your Queene
Did suffer under, in Decostros pride.
Oniate.
And yet Auxiliaries oft turne their swords
To ruine, whom they come to rescue.
Velasco.
The Barbarous keepe no faith in vowes. But we
We of Castile, though flattering advantage
Perswade to perjurie, have still observ'd
Friendship inviolate: No Nation suffering
To which we give our oath.
Oniate.
You speake my Lord
Your glories Nobly. And it is our joy
Your Generalls wound but frighted us.
Velasco.
The Surgeons
Affirme there is no danger, and have licenced
His visit to the Queene.
Oniate.
Tis thought how-ere
His Love had not obey'd such a restraint,
[Page]Though death had threatned him. But in his health
Consists the common safety, since those Forces
Decastro in the morning did expect,
Ere you the Towne assaulted, are discover'd
To which he fled expel'd the Citie.
Velasco.
Sir,
We shall contemne and with ease break that Armie,
Whose Generall we have vanquisht: having wonne▪
The Citie and your Queene into our power.
Enter Sanmartino.
San.
Save you my Lord! Sir your most obedient!
And how likes your good Lordship the great Acts
Of the strange Cavaliere? was not his conduct
Most happie for you, in the late assault?
Velasco.
He happily supplyed the Office of
Our Generall▪ Howere your Citie had
Beene ours. For though our Spanish Forces may
At first seeme beaten, and we to retreate
A while, to animate a giddie enemie.
Yet we recover by our Art and patience
What fortune gives away. This unknowne leader
(I know not how to stile him) prest among
Our Souldiers, as they were returning back
After a small repulse: Encouraged them,
(Though it was much superfluous) and got honour,
Perhaps not so deservingly: But 'twas well.
Oniate.
Your Souldier speakes his glory even with wonder.
Velasco.
The ignorant are prone to it. But sir
I thinke in our whole armie there fought none,
But who had equall spirit. Fortune may
Bestow successe according to her dotage.
I answere not for that.
San.
This is pure Castile.
But what is his birth, Country, qualitie,
And whether is he bound?
Velasco.
I seldome trouble
My language with vaine questions. Some report
(It not imports who are the Authors) that
His Country's Sicily; his name Ascanio,
(Or else some sound like that) that he's a Lord:
(But what's an Island Lord?) and that he came
Into our continent to learne men and manners.
And well he might: for the All-seeing sunne
Beholds no Nation fiercer in attempt,
[Page]More stay'd in councell.
Oniate.
He's of a brave presence,
I never saw more Majestie in youth
Nor never such bold courage in a face
So fashion'd to delight.
San.
The Queene commends him
Almost with wonder.
Velosco.
Did the Queene regard
A man unknowne?
Oniate.
His mirits spoke his worth,
And well might challenge a particular eye.
San.
But his, as if in that dumbe Oratory,
He hoped to talke all th' history of love,
Still sixt upon her.
Velasco.
Your most humble servant.
Exit. Velasco.
Oniate.
This is abrupt.
San.
What most pollitique flea
Is got into his Donships eare?
Oniate.
Now must
The Junto sit till midnight, till they racke
Some strange designe from this intelligence.
Enter Cleantha and offers to goe out.
San.
Nay on my honour Madam!
Clean.
Good my Lord!
San.
Benight us not so soone. The short liv'd day
That gives the Russian in the winter hope
Of heate yet failes him; not so suddenly
Forsakes the firmament. Stay fairest Madam▪
That we may looke on you and live.
Clean.
My Lord
I feare you two were serious.
San.
Never I
Upon my Conscience Madam.
Oniate.
No Ile sweare:
Nor none of the whole forme of you at Court,
Unlesse the stratagem be for a Mistresse,
A fashion, or some cheating match at Tennice.
Clean.
But happily that Gentleman had businesse,
His face betrayes my judgement, if he be
Not much in project.
San.
You mistake him Madam.
Though he talke positive, and bustle 'mong
The Sober Lords, pretend to Embassies
And state designes all day; He's one of us
[Page]At night: Hee'le play, hee'le drink, you guesse the rest,
Hee'le quarrell too, then underhand compound.
Why for a need hee'le jeere and speake profane,
Court and then laugh at her he courted. Madam
Forgive him his pretence to gravitie;
And he's an absolute Cavalier.
Clean.
My Lord
He owes you for this faire certificate:
Yet I feare your character's beyond his merit.
Oniate.
Madam dissemble not so great a vertue.
Nor to obey the tyrannie of custome,
Become the Courts faire hypocrite. I know
This vanitie for fashionsake you weare,
And all those gayeties you seeme t' admire
Are but your laughter.
Clean.
Sir your charitie
Abuseth you extreamely.
Oniate.
Come you cannot
Disguise that wisedome, which doth glory in
The beautious mansion it inhabits. Madam
This soule of mine, how course so ere tis cloath'd,
Tooke th' honor to admire you, soone as first
You shin'd at Court. Nor had a timorous silence
So long denied me to professe my service,
But that I fear'd I might be lost ith' crowde
Of your admirers.
Clean.
Nor can I perceive
Any strong hope now to the contrary.
Oniate.
Nor I. But give me licencet' undeceive
The world, that so mistakes you. This young Lord
Flatters his folly that indeed you are
Sicke of that humor, you but counterfeite.
Beleeves y'are fraile and easie; since if not,
His courtship were without designe.
Cleant.
My Lord
What meanes the Gentleman? He hopes to talke me
Into a vertue I neere practis'd yet,
And much suspect I never shall.
San.
Pray Madam
Pardon his ignorance: tis want of breeding.
Onia.
Pardon your mirth faire Madam, and brush off
This honor'd dust, that soyles your company;
This thing whom Nature carelessely obtruded
Upon the world to teach, that pride and folly
[Page]Makes titular greatnesse th' envie but of fooles,
The wise mans pitty.
Sanmar.
Sir your words are rude.
Oniate.
Sure no, my Lord: Perhaps in times of yore
They might be conster'd so, when superstition
Worship'd each Lord an idoll. Now we finde
By sad experience, that you are meere men,
If vice debauch you not to beasts.
San.
The place
Is privileg'd sir.
Oniat.
I know it is, and therefore speake thus boldly,
If you grow hot, you have your grots my Lord,
And in your Villa you may domineere
Ore th' humble Countrie Gentleman, who stands
A loofe and bare.
Clean.
My Lord leave off the combat
Yea're hard matcht. And see the Lord Florentio.
Enter Florentio and Velasco.
The Queene attends his comming. Sir voule finde
A more convenient schoole to reade this lecture.
Oniate.
But none so beatifull to heare me.
Exeunt severall wayes Sanmartino, Cleantha, and Oniate.
Floren.
And are you sure my Lord, he durst presume
To looke up at her?
Velasco.
Yes, and she commends
His person and his spirit.
Floren.
Twas too much
T' observe his person. Sure his spirit's great,
And well may challenge the Queenes memorie:
I have not seene him yet.
Velasco.
Nor I my Lord.
Flor.
He had a fortune gentler far than mine.
In envie of that service which I vowed
To Arragon; heaven used a strangers arme
In this great action: I was judged a thing
Unfit for use.
Velasco.
Your glory was the greater,
Your courage even opposing 'gainst your fate
In the attempt.
Floren.
But yet mistaking man
Esteemes the happie onely valiant.
And if the Queene (Velasco) should smile on
His merits, and forget that love I have
[Page]With such religion payd her. But these doubts
Are impious: and I sinne, if I but listen
To their disloyall whispers. And behold,
Enter the Queene, Floriana, Cleanitha, &c.
She opens like a rocke of Diamond;
To th' curious search of th' almost banckrout merchant,
So doth the Pilot finde his starre, when stormes
Have even sunck his barke. Divinest Madam!
Queen.
Welcome my Lord! But pardon me my joyes
If I must interrupt you with a sigh.
I cannot looke upon Florentios arme,
But I must grieve it bled for me.
Flo.
O spare
The treasure of those teares! Some captive King,
Whom fortune hath lockt up in iron, wants
One such to buy his freedome. Madam all
Those streames of blood which flow to warme my earth
Least it congeale to death, cannot compare
For value with the least drop shed for you:
By such a quarrell made inestimable.
Queene.
The warre I see hath onely beene the field
To exercise your fancie. Your discourse
Shewes that the Court was kept beneath your tent;
Yet cannot I my Lord be jealous but
Tis mingled with some love.
Floren.
Tis a pure love,
Unmixt as is the soule. The world perhaps
May judge a kingdome hath enamor'd me,
And that your titles dresse you forth, to raise
My appetite up higher. Pardon love,
If it grow envious even of your fortune;
And that I me foc't to wish, you had beene daughter
Of some poore mountaine cottager, without
All dowre but your owne beauty. Then I might
Have shewed a flame untainted with ambition:
And courted you. But now the circumstance
Of greatnesse seemes to challenge more than I
Have power to give: and working up my love,
I serve my fortune.
Queene.
You have not my Lord
Found me uneasie to your vowes. And when
The troubled streame of my tempestuous state
Shall meete a perfect calme: you then shall know
How worthy I esteeme your vertue.
Flor.
[Page]Speake but those words agen, and seate me in
An Orbe above corruption! O confirme
Your thoughts but with a promise.
Queen.
How, a promise?
I shall repent my favour if I heare
A syllable that sounds like that. Upon
My marriage day I have vowed to bring my selfe
A free oblation to the holy Altar.
Not like a fearefull debtor, tender love
To save my bond. My Lord I must not heare
One whisper of a promise.
Floren.
I'me silent.
And use me as your Vassall, for a title
More glorious I shall never covet. But
Queen.
No jealousie my Lord.
Enter Lerma.
Lerma.
Your Majestie
Is great in mercie: And I hope á stranger
Shall meete it, if his speech be an offence.
Queen.
Your pleasure sir.
kneeles.
Lerma.
The Lord Ascanio charg'd
Me fall yet lower if the earth would licence.
For to so high a Majestie, obedience
Cannot bend downe enough. Then he commanded,
I in his name, should begge the honour for him,
Before he take his journey from your Country,
To kisse your hand.
Queen.
Pray sir lets know the houre,
But let it not be sudden. Yeares should sweat
In preparation for his entertainment,
And Poets racke invention till it reach
Such praises as would reach the victories
Of th' old Heroes.
Lerma.
Madam, if his arme
Did actions worthy memory; it receiv'd
An influence from your quarrell: In the which
Adwarfe might triumph ore an Armie: But
He humbly craves, his audience may not be
With croude and noise as to Embassadors;
But with that silence which befits his businesse:
For tis of moment.
Queen.
Sir, we will obey
His own desires, though ours could wish his welcome
With a full ceremonie. I attend him.
Exit. Lerma.
Floren.
[Page]Madam this stranger.
Queen.
Pray my Lord let Love
Not interrupt your businesse. I beleeve
The Armie which Decastro so expected
Being now arriv'd, your souldier tired, the Citie
Ill setled in her faith, much councell will
Be needfull. When your leisure shall permit,
Our joy shall be to see you.
Floren.
I'm all obedience.
Exeunt Queene and Florentio, at severall doores.
Manent Sanmartino, and Cleantha.
San.
And when sweete Madam will you crowne our joyes?
Lets not like riotous gamsters throw away
The treasure of our time. Appoint the houre,
The houre which must weare garlands of delight,
By which wee'le make it th' envie of the age.
Clean.
My Lord what meane you?
San.
What all fine Lords meane,
Who have plenty, youth, and title.
Clean.
But my fame?
San.
Tis the fooles bugbeare.
Clean.
Then my conscience▪
San.
A scarecrow for old wives, whom wrinckles make
Religious.
Clean.
What will the Court say?
San.
Why nothing.
In mercie to themselves, all other Ladies
Will keepe your councell.
Clean.
But will you not boast it?
San.
Ile be degraded first.
Clean.
Well I'm resolv'd.
San.
But when sweete Madam? Name
The moment.
Clean.
Never. For now I weigh things better,
The antidote 'gainst feare is innocence.
San.
Will you delude my hopes then? Pitty Madam
A heart that withers, if denyed this favour.
Clean.
In pitty I may be induced to much;
And since you urge compassion, I will meete.
San.
Where excellent Madam?
Clean.
Ith' Sycamor walke.
San.
The minute, ô the minute?
Clean.
An houre hence.
San.
Felicitie! fit for thy envie Love!
[Page]You will not faile now Madam?
Clean.
To be such
As you shall count that houre your happiest.
Exeunt.
Enter Browfilldora, and Oniate.
Oniate.
This is a challenge! Prethee my small friend
May not a man take th' height of thy Lords spirit,
Looking on thee?
Browfill.
Pray sir leave off your mirth
And write my Lord your answere.
Oniate.
Little sir,
I never learnt that pretty qualitie;
I cannot write. Onely by word of mouth.
Garagan.
Your place sir?
Oniate.
The market place.
Garag.
Tis fantasticke: and my Lord will take it ill.
Your weapons sir.
Oniate.
Two English Mastives, which
Are yet but whelpes, and not transported hither:
So that the time will be I know not when.
Garag.
Your sport is dangerous. If my Lord forgive you;
I must resent th' affront as to my selfe,
And will expect a most severe account.
Onia.
Thou lesse thought angrier thing than waspe, farewell.
Exeunt.
Enter Queene and Ascanio.
Queen.
I am inform'd my Lord that you have businesse,
And tis of moment:
Ascanio.
Great as that of Natures
In her most mighty worke, Creation.
For to preserve from dissolution, equalls
The gift of our first Being. Not to hold
Your Majestie in riddles, tis to begge
Your pardon for a Souldier doom'd to dye;
Inevitably doom'd: Unlesse your mercie
Steppe betweene him and death.
Queen.
My Lord we use
T' examine well the fact, for which he is
To suffer, ere we pardon. There be crimes
Of that blacke qualitie, which often makes
Mercie seeme cruell.
Ascanio.
That's the feare which frights
Me to this palenesse: sure his crime is great
But fondly I presuming on the service
My fortune lately did you, gave my vow
Ne're to forsake your eare with earnest prayers,
[Page]Till you had granted.
Queen.
Would you had not vowed.
For by the practise of my enemies,
My fame is 'mong the people yet unsetled,
And my capacitie for government,
Held much too feeble. Should I then by this
Provoke them to disdaine me, I might runne
Apparent hazard even of ruine, now
Warre so distracts our Kingdome. But my Lord
Your merits are too ponderous in the scale,
And all respects weigh light, you have his pardon.
Asca.
Your hand on that. The Doune on the Swans bosome,
kisses and holds it.
Not white and soft as this: Here's such a dew
As drops from bounteous heaven in the morning,
To make the shadowie banke pregnant with violets.
Queen.
My Lord!
Ascanio.
I kist it, and the Phenix seem'd
(The last of the whole race) to yeeld a perfume
More sweete than all his dying Ancestors
Breathed from their funerall piles. O shrink not back!
My life is so concomitant with love,
That if you frowne on either both expire;
And I must part for ever hence.
Queen.
How strange appeares this extasie? My Lord I feare
Your braine feeles some disturbance: If I cause it,
I will remove the object.
Ascan.
Pardon Madam
The errour of my fancie (which oft seemes
To see things absent) if my tongue did utter
What misbecame your eare. And doe not forfeite
Your servant to perpetuall misery
For want of a short patience.
Queene.
No my Lord;
I have the memory of your great deedes
Ingrav'd so deepe; no errour can have power
To raze them from a due respect▪ You beg'd
To have a pardon. speake th' offenders name.
Ascan.
Th' offenders name, is Love. His crime, high treason▪
A plot how to surprize and wound your heart;
To this conspirator I have given harbour,
And vow'd to begge your mercy for him.
Queen.
How?
Asca.
And if you breake your grant, I will hereafter
Scorne all your Sex, since the most excellent
[Page]Is cruell, and inconstant.
Queen.
Pray my Lord
Goe recollect your reason, which your passion
Hath too much scatter'd. Make me not have cause
To hate, whom I would ever strive to honour.
Ascanio.
Madam you haply scorne the vulgar earth
Of which I stand compacted: And because
I cannot adde a splendor to my name
Reflective from a royall pedegree;
You interdict my Language. But be pleas'd
To know, the ashes of my ancestors
If intermingled in the Tombe with Kings
Could hardly be distinguisht. The Starres shoote
An equall influence on the open cottage,
Where the poore sheepheards childe is rudely nurst,
And on the cradle where the Prince is rockt
With care and whisper.
Queen.
And what hence inferre you?
Ascanio.
That no distinction is 'tweene man and man,
But as his vertues adde to him a glory,
Or vices cloud him.
Queen.
But yet heaven hath made
Subordination, and degrees of men,
And even religion doth authorize us
To rule; and tells the subject tis a crime
And shall meete death, if he disdaine obedience.
Ascan.
Kinde heaven made us all equall, till rude strength
Or wicked pollice usurp'd a power,
And for Religion, that exhorts t' obey
Onely for its owne ease.
Queen.
I must not heare,
Such insolence 'gainst Majestie: And yet
This lesse offends than love.
Ascanio.
If reason bends
You not to mercie; let my passion plead,
And not meete death from her, in whose faire quarrell
I could each moment bring a life to th' hazard.
Philosophie, hath taught me that content
Lives under the course thatch of Labourers
With much more quiet, then where the sam'd hand
Of Artists, to the life have richly drawne
Upon the roofes the fictions of the Gods.
How happie then might I lengthen my life,
With some faire Country Girle, so ignorant
[Page]She knew not her owne beauties: Rather than
Indanger death and scorne in your deniall,
And in your grant nothing but pompe and envie.
Quee.
My Lord be wise, and study that best content.
This bold presumptuous love, hath cancell'd all
The bonds I owed your valour: henceforth hope
Not for that usuall favour I shew strangers,
Since you have thus abused it: would I might
With safety have appear'd more gratefull.
Exit.
Asca.
She's gone, as life from the delinquent when
Justice sheathes up her sword. I faine would have
Conceal'd lov's treason, but desire t' obtaine her
Put me to th' torture, till each Nerve did cracke,
And I confest, then dy'd upon the racke.
Exeunt.
Actus Quartus.
Scena Prima.
Enter Cleantha and Floriana.
Floria.
THy pride is such a flatterer of thy beautie,
That no man sighes by accident, but thou
Dost pitty as enamor'd.
Clean.
Floriana!
Not so kind natured surely. I have put
The sighes of Courtiers in a scale, and finde
Some three score thousand may weigh downe a fether.
I' have tryed their teares, which though of briny taste,
Can onely season th' hearts of fooles, not women.
Their vowes are like their duells, ever grounded,
Upon the idlest quarrell.
Floria.
This, experiences
Perhaps instructs you to. But yet your pride
I feare is over easie to beleeve.
Tis meerely to flye idlenesse, that my Lord
Hath troubled you with courtship. If the Queene
Would make a statesman, she might cure a Lover.
Want of imployment made him dreame on beauty,
And yours came first t' his fancie.
Clean.
Floria.
And you begin
Perhaps to feare it?
Clean.
True, perhaps I doe.
For though we care not for the Lover, yet
We love the passion. Though we scorne the offering
We grieve to see it throwne away, and envie
If consecrated to another. Woman
Hath no revenge 'gainst th' injurie of custome,
Which gives man superioritie, but thus
To foole him to subjection.
Floria.
Yet Cleantha!
I could have wisht your charitie had spared
This triumph o're my Lord.
Clean.
You see I take
The next way to redeeme him. This the houre,
And this the place. Here he resolves to raise
A trophe in my ruine. And behold
Enter Sanmartino, winding up his watch.
The just man of his promise. Not a minute
He failes; when sinne's the payment.
Floria.
Ile indanger
His vertue to a blush: And happily
Convert an Infidell.
Clean.
This is my province,
Nor shall you envie me the honour of
A worke of meritorious. Let him walke
A while, and sinne with his owne fancie: Then
Ile undertake him: and if there be neede,
Be you prepared to assist me.
Floria.
Thou dost build
Such Forts on the opinion of thy wit.
Exeunt Floriana and Clean.
San.
Tis a full houre, and halfe a minute over.
And yet she not appeares? How we severe
Strickt Creditors in love, stand on the minute?
But yet the paiment never comes unwelcome,
Untill the gold, through age grow soule and rustie,
We stand not on a graine or two too light.
Enter Dwarfe.
Now your discovery?
Dwarfe.
My Lord I have
Made search in every Ally, every Arbour,
Not left a bush, wherein my littlenesse
[Page]Could creepe without due scrutinie. And yet
No whispering of taffetie: No dazeling
Of your bright Mistresse forc't me to a wincke.
I saw no mortall beautie.
San.
Sure shee'le not
Be so unworthy to delude me now?
Dwarfe.
But I had a more prosperous fate in love,
My Lord I met my mistresse.
San.
You, a mistresse?
Dwarfe.
A Mistresse to whose beauty I have payd
My vowes, most fervent vowes, ere since I was
Of stature fit to be an Amorist.
San.
One of the Maides of honor to Queene Mab?
Dwar.
Your Lordship guesses neere. For she is one
Oth' Chamberers to her Fayrie Majestie;
A Ladie of most subtle wit: who while
She puts a handkerchiefe or gorget on
Her little highnesse, holds intelligence
Abroad, and orders payment for the Spies.
She raiseth factions, and unites the angry.
She's much upon designe.
San.
Where found you her?
Dwarf.
Walking alone under the shadow of
A Tulip, and inveying 'gainst Court Arts,
'Cause one of Oberons Groomes had got from her
The Monopoly of transporting gnats,
A project she long aym'd at.
San.
No more fooling.
I am growne angry with my patience.
Boy, sing those verses, were presented me
This morning.
Dwarf.
I will creepe behind a bush,
And then for voyce, vie with the Nightingale:
If seene I am so bashfull.
Sanmar.
Take your way.
Song Without. As the Song ends Enter Cleantha veil'd.
She breakes forth like the Morning in a Cloud.
Tis for the safety of my eyes, you veile
The glory of your beauties, which else might
Dazle, not catch the sight. But I discerne
A faire Cleantha through this gloominesse.
Appeare, and speake bright Madam. Why such silence?
O famish not my eare, which greedily
[Page]Longs to devoure the Musique of your Language:
Is it to teach me that delight must be
Intomb'd in secrecie? Or else to shew
How mad a spend thrift I'm to talke away
The treasure of this houre. Come faire unveile.
Clean.
O give me leave, yet to retaine my blushes.
San.
Deceite of timorous modesty! Traitors
To love your blushes are. Your feares are envious
Of your delights. Lets vanish hence and neere
To th' vulgar eye againe appeare: Till we
Growne old in pleasure be transform'd t' a Vine
Or Ivie, so for ever to entwine.
Clean.
Then I unveile.
San.
O flye into my armes,
As a rich odor to the ravisht sence▪
Perfume me with thy kisses.
Clean.
Stay my Lord:
Actions of moment (as I take this is)
Must be maturely thought on. I have cal'd
My reason to account.
San.
Your reason Madam?
Clean.
Yes my good Lord. That onely doth distinguish
A woman from bruite beasts; or what's more sensuall,
A vaine loose man. What sinne scandalls my carriage
To give encouragement to this presumption?
What priviledg'd this attempt?
San.
That tempting beauty.
Clean.
It is a traytor then to my pure thoughts:
And to preserve your eye, would it were wrinckled;
I could much easier suffer the reproach
Of age, than your bold courtship. If a Lady
Be young and sportive, use curiositie
And perhaps Art, to helpe where nature seem'd
Imperfect in her worke, will you, from the
False argument of your owne loose blood, conclude
Her guilty? Or if she select a friend;
Whose innocence gives warrant to her faith,
Will you infer their whispers have no ayme
But that of Brothels? Cause you finde your selfe
Nought but loose flesh, will you turne Heretick,
And thence deny the soule?
San.
This language Madam
Sounds nothing to the purpose of our meeting.
Clean.
More to the benefit. But in your patent,
[Page]'Mong all the priviledges of a Conde
Where finde you lust inserted? Without which
Till age hath made you wise or impotent,
You thinke your honour is defective. 'Cause
Your cloathes are hansome, and mine too; must we
Deforme our minds? Is it sufficient motive
To sinne, if opportunitie and youth
Perswade us? Such as you, are those foule plagues
Infect the ayre which breathes our fame, and make
The cautious sirs oth' Country shunne us.
San.
Madam?
Clean.
When we admit you to our bedchamber,
Powder, or haply bath before you. What
Of honor's here more than a groome may boast,
Our maides are tired with? Yet this with a smile
Is whisper'd to your friend, and you inferre
How easie a more neere approach will be.
My Lord learne vertue, and your wit may then
Not serve you to so fond a purpose. If
That courage you are fam'd for be no slander,
Goe to the warres. Twill be a farre lesse maime
To lose an eye there than your honour here.
If peace enamour you, and the Court, live honest;
And hope the heire who shall succeed you, may
Be yours. Revenge destroyes more chast it ie,
Than all the temptings of such Lords as you.
San.
You shall not talke me Madam from that pleasure
This houre doth promise me.
Clean.
You'le not commit
A rape my Lord?
San.
That is a question as
Yet unresolv'd. For force is my last refuge.
Clean.
Thinke on the danger; for the sinne I see
Little distracts your conscience.
San.
I propose
Felicitie, which none can merit, who
Refuse so poore a venter. Here I vow
No prayer or Art shall free you. If you will
Hazard a life devoted to your service,
Ile dye your Martyr.
Clean.
Come my Lord, Ile free you
From all such hazard.
San.
There spoke harmonie.
Clean.
Ile not be cruell. You shall have kisses, such
[Page]As will melt your soule into your lippes. And what
Is sweetest, no repentance shall be th' issue
Enter Floriana and Oniate.
Of your delight. Looke here my Lord. She's yours.
San.
No halter now? Not tree convenient? O!
A steeple would be precious for my purpose!
But Oniate's there. Ile fight with him;
Be kill'd, and be redeem'd. Sir you receiv'd
A challenge from me! but return'd no answere.
Oniate.
My Lord I had other businesse: you'le excuse me.
San.
What satisfaction doe men give, when challeng'd?
Oniate.
According to their spirit. If they be
Regardlesse of their fame, then they submit.
If not, they fight.
San.
What Sir, will you then doe?
Oniate.
Let me consider. Neither.
San.
Come you shall fight.
Oniate.
My Lord I will not.
San.
Then you shall subscribe
Your selfe a coward.
Oniate.
Not for the whole world:
Such an apparent lye would be a sinne
Too heavie to my conscience. I subscribe
My selfe a coward? If I should; no souldier
Would thinke but that my hand were counterfeited.
San.
Then you must fight.
Oniate.
My Lord on no condition. Hope not for it.
San.
Then you shall sweare, never to speake my name
But with respect.
Oniate.
Hereafter, if you can
Deserve it. For the present, I must crave
Your pardon with much mirth to laugh at you.
San.
Sir I shall meete you.
Oniate.
It shall contradict
All my endeavours then.
San.
I goe sir. But.
Exit. Sanmar and Floria.
Clean.
For mercie sake goe with thy Lord. Repentance
May turne to desperation.
Floria.
Ile preserve him.
Clean.
Have you no businesse sir, imports you more
Than t'hold discourse with me? Troth I shall pitty
You want imployment.
Oniate.
Madam, what can be
More serious?
Clean.
[Page]Nothing more: If your designe
Be to convert me; for I know you hold
All Ladies in a Schisme, who are young and proud.
Oniate.
Your pardon Madam. I beleeve in cunning,
Court Ladies choose some pettie veniall errors,
To set perfection off. For should you not
Usurpe a hansome pride, your fame would lye
Like unwal'd Cities, open to the prey
Of each invading youth. Did you not shew
A scorne, you would deserve it.
Clean.
Sir take heed.
Hope not to win my favour, by extolling
What in our better thoughts our selves condemne.
Iam so wearied out with vowes and oathes,
With impious praises and most tedious flattery:
That nothing but plaine speaking truth, can gaine
On my affection.
Oniate.
Madam! your affection?
Clean.
Pray sir doe not comment upon the word;
It doth portend no danger to you.
Oniate.
And if it did, where's the beatitude?
For though I grant you vertues great as beauty
Can entertaine; and foolish I resolv'd
To captivate my stocke of life t' a woman:
Yet would I not adventure on you, if
You did not vow to performe Articles.
Clean.
Suppose the businesse come to Articles.
Oniate.
Ith' first then you should covenant love, not squinting
On every finer youth, or greater Lord;
But looking streight on me.
Cleant.
To the second sir.
Oniate.
No dotage on the Court, so far that my
Estate must rue it: and no vanitie
Be started up, but my fond Lady must
Be melancholly, and take physick, till
She get into it.
Clean.
Why! You envie then
Us our owne trouble. Keepe us from the expence
And leave us to our discontent for pennance.
Oniat.
No. I would have the minde serene: Without
All passion, though a masque should be presented;
And you ith' Country. I must have you wise,
To know your beauty mortall: which you must
Preserve to warme my eye: not ayde by Arts,
[Page]To keepe the Courtiers wit in exercise.
From his so practis'd flattery, your care
Must turne with a brave scorne; and when his eye
Doth offer parley, seeme so ignorant
As not to understand the language.
Clean.
Sir
You haply will debarre us our she friends too?
Oniate.
As secret enemies who'se first betray you.
Clean.
Youle not allow us, wearied of our husbands,
To send them on discovery of new worlds?
Or if we take a toy our selves to travell,
Perhaps to Barbary, or Tartary,
Or the remotest parts?
Oniate.
To Bedlam sooner.
Clean.
Or if our Sexe should warrant it by custome,
To play at Tennice, or runne at the Ring,
Or any other Martiall exercize;
I feare me scrupulous sir, you will condemne it
As dangerous to my honour?
Oniate.
Sure I should.
Clean.
I then perceive small hope of our agreement.
Oniate.
But I a confidence. For I discerne
How much you loath these follies, you pretend.
Clean.
Good sir no more of this so kind mistake,
Youle finde some other Ladie more deserves it.
And I aspire not to the honour.
Oniate.
Ile try yet farther.
Exeunt Oniate Cleantha.
Enter Lerma and Velasco.
Lerma.
My Lord you offer nobly.
Velasco.
Tis a steppe
Beneath Florentio's greatnesse, whether you
His birth consider, or his place. Sir the Queene
By natures seated and her high deserts,
Where onely mighty soules (such as the Generalls)
May offer to aspire.
Lerma.
My Lord your laps
To this proud language is so injurious, that
I must be forc't to purge the humor. That
The Lord Florentio offers by a duell
To shew no man can have fairer pretence
To serve the Queene; must be allowed. But that
You dare cast disregard upon this Lord
Although a stranger, urgeth me to' intreate
Y'ould draw your sword:
Velasco.
[Page]It hath seene light, and made
Way through an Armie, when fond victory
Smil'd on our enemies. It hath done wonders,
When the thicke troopes of Moores invaded us,
It feares no opposition.
Lerma.
Shew th' effect of 't.
Velasco
Not in a cause so triviall. Each small breath
Disturbs the quiet of poore shallow waters:
But winds must arme themselves, ere the large sea
Is seene to tremble. Pray your pardon sir:
I must not throw away my courage on
A cause so triviall.
Lerma.
As you pelase my Lord;
But to omit all circumstance, you bring
A challenge to my Lord Ascanio:
The reason of the Lord Florentio's anger,
A rivallship in Love.
Velasco.
You speake it right.
Lerma.
Ile bring you backe his resolution,
Before you have attended many minutes.
Velasco.
Sir 'twill be descent, for my nature knowes
Not how to waite. And if no delayes
Be used, 'twill shew a fierce valour in him,
And happily prevent discovery.
For you may easily conjecture, that
A Generalls absence soone will wake the eye
Of the suspicious Souldier.
Lerma.
Is my Lord
In readinesse.
Velasco.
He walkes not far from hence
Lerma.
You shall have use then but of a short patience.
Exit.
Velasco.
It will be gratefull to us sir: My Lord.
Enter Florentio.
Floren.
And will Ascanio meete?
Velasco.
Immediately.
Floren.
I had no other way. Yet this is rough,
And Justice whispers tis unsafe to treade it.
If to love her be sinfull, what am I?
How dare I call his passion to the barre,
And nourish it my selfe? Why may not he
Who hath as bold a fortune, entertaine
As bold a love; and in the fate of warre
Having outgone by service, why not then
Present it to the selfe-same Altar? But
[Page] We cannot harbour both in the same Port;
Or he or I am shipwrack'd: for the storme
Is rais'd, and to appease it, death must be
The sacrifice.
Enter Lerma.
Velasco.
My Lord here is the second.
This stranger dares not meete with your great spirit.
Floren.
Suspect him not my Lord. He hath a courage
Above the sense of feare. Well sir your answere?
Lerma.
My Lord Ascanio could have wisht his life
Might have beene destind to a happier purpose.
And charged me tell your Lordship that he had
Much rather have beene lost with common dust,
In the cheape Churchyard, than endanger'd fame
In this great duell.
Floren.
Sir explaine his reasons.
Lerma.
He calls to his sad thoughts, the mischefes which
This Kingdom needes must fall into when you
Shall perish by his sword; certainely
You cannot scape it, thus provoking death.
Then to what ruine may the Queene, whose safety
You both have labour'd, be engaged? He could
With patience almost suffer on his name,
The infamie of coward, rather than
Hazard the quiet of her estate. But you.
Floren.
Let me consider; Tis an idle rage
That heates me to this quarrell, Let her fate
Remaine unshaken, though she choose my foe
Into her love and bosome. If she live
Above the feare of ruine; I am mighty,
Mighty enough, though by my griefes growne feeble
And weakned too, diseases fright the healthy.
I will referre my cause and life to her,
And ne're dispute it by the sword.
Velasco.
My Lord!
Floren.
Velasco, I am safe enough against
The taint of Coward. Spaine beares witnesse that
I dare, as farre as honour dares give warrant.
But in this cause.
Velasco.
My Lord you'le lose the glory
Of all your former Actions; and become
The mirth of Courtiers, empty things who braule
Not fight, if you returne after a challenge
Without performance.
Floren.
Tis a serious truth.
Velas.
[Page]Moreover this young Gentleman hath hope
To talke you from your resolution:
The Lord Ascanio will too much exult,
If this way too he can orecome you.
Floren.
It must not be sir, tell my Lord I waite
His leisure.
Lerma.
And your Lordship shall not have
Reason to thinke it long. Prepare your selfe
His onely prayer is now; that when he comes
There may be no discourse to take up time,
He hath desire the businesse may be all:
What he can say, hath beene by me delivered.
Exit.
Floren.
We will obey him. Tyrant Love! Why is
Thy crueltie so wanton to delight
In murder? Like that impious Roman Prince,
Thou joyest to smother, whom thou lov'st, in Roses,
And stifle them with the choysest perfumes. But
This is no place for reason; She may hold
Dispute in sober schooles, where studie raises
The soule to knowledge. Here's the Theater
For the bruite part of man to fight his last,
I must redeeme the Laurell, fortune crown'd
His Temples with, or perish in th' attempt.
My fate decrees it.
Enter Ascanio, and Lerma.
Lerma.
Here's my Lord Ascanio.
Floren.
Why doth he turne his face away as if
He durst not looke on danger: Doe his feares
Now triumph ore his courage.
Lerma.
Put it to the tryall.
They fight.
Floren.
He's more than Mortall sure. He strikes like lightning
Himselfe not passive. But Ile try agen,
And disinchant the Sorcerer. I there
I reacht him home. You bleed, open your doublet
The wound perhaps is dangerous.
Ascanio.
But a scratch.
Floren.
Sure I have heard that voyce, and seene that face,
Velasco tis the King.
Ascanio.
My Lord what meane you?
Floren.
Some Planet strike me dead, and fixe this arme
A monument to tell posterity
The treason of my errour: Mighty sir,
Shew mercy to your Creature, that my death
(Which hastily steales on me) may not be
[Page]Too foule for after story.
Ascanio.
Rise Florentio,
This act cannot endure the name of Treason.
Floren.
Some Surgeons quicke to search the wound! O sir
How doe you feele your selfe? speake life, or I
Shall sinke downe to my Center.
Ascanio.
Not a man
Stirre hence, thy sword was loyall as thy thoughts,
And scarce hath peirc't the skin. O my Florentio.
Floren.
My Lord and King! But why did you engage
Your sacred person into danger? Twas not well;
How many thousand lives depend on yours?
Ascanio.
Envie oth' greatnesse I possest, without
The merit, and desire to know those perills
We wantonly our subjects cast upon
On every weake exception; wrought my youth
Into this action. Nor can I repent
Th' experience of this waire?
Floren.
But oh great sir,
Why did your Majestie suffer this duell?
Twas cruell and unkinde. How easily
This hand might have committed sactiledge?
The very thought whereof, like some pale vision
Congeales my blood.
Ascanio.
Search not that wound to deepe.
Florentio! I shall blush, blust like some Ladie
Surpriz'd in sin, if you too farre examine.
Floren.
Conceale it not great sir, though in the speaking
Poyson steale through my eare. Be confident,
Unvaile your thoughts.
Ascanio.
You needes must hate me then:
And will have Justice to throw off that duty
You owe me as a subject. Let it be
Unspoken still; though smothering it be death
Good heaven desend. What is an Armie of us
Exposed to certaine slaughter, if compared
To th' shortest moment that should serve your quiet?
And shall I live and see my Soveraigne weare
A sorrow, on his brow?
Ascanio.
Florentio! thou
Art glorious in thy vertue. So was I
Till looking on the Queene I grew oth' sudden
Darker then midnight?
Floren.
O my cruell fate!
Ascanio.
[Page]I grew a theefe, a most ungratefull theefe
In my designes, and labour'd to have stole
The Jewell of thy life from thee. A Jewell,
My selfe so freely had bestowed upon
The merits of thy youth.
Floren.
My soule foresaw this.
Ascanio.
How justly had I perisht by thy sword.
How happie for my safety. Then had I
Beene lost in my disguise; or dyed, my crime
Unknowne unto the world. Now if I live
I must wade through a sea of injuries,
T'attaine an unsafe haven.
Enter the Queene.
Floren.
Cheere your selfe
Dread sir: Though as I give the Legacie
I breath my last; yet will I shew a heart
Thankefull to your great favours. Madam, here
Behold the Soveraigne of Castile.
Queen.
You have
Beene cruell in your kindnesse Sir, to keepe
So long your sacred person hid from us.
Floren.
He is your Lover Madam, and deserves
The title. Whether you observe his youth,
So beautious, Nature dotes upon her worke:
Or weigh his greatnesse powerfull to defend you,
Should fate and all mankinde conspire your ruine;
And adde to that, he merits you, his sword
Having restored you freedome: when poore I
Was judg'd like some old instrument of warre
Unfit for service. All my interest
I here resigne to th' Author of my fate;
My Love I cannot, which must still remaine,
Companion to my life. But Ile take heed
My wound appeare not, though it inward bleed.
Exit.
Ascan.
I waite here Madam, and attend your sentence
For 'tis my doome.
Queen.
Sir I am that sad wretch,
Stands trembling at the barre. I know your merit,
And know a gratitude, great as ere was owing,
By an injured soule releev'd. I duely weigh
That double tye which doth obleige me yours.
First when you sent your souldiers to my rescue;
Then by exposing your most sacred person
To th' dangers of a warre.
Ascanio.
[Page]A triviall nothng.
Queen.
What honour can come equall to my state
As by so high a match? And gainst your person
The envious cannot finde a quarrell.
Asca.
Madam
All this is circumstance, the politicke
Busie their fancie with. I bring a love,
An humble love, which is of value to
Enoble the parcht labourer, and force
An Emperesse listen to his vowes. Consider
In me nothing of fortune, onely looke
On that, to which Love new created me.
If once receiv'd your servant; what's Castile
In the comparison? For Princes are
Too bold, if they bring wealth and victory,
To enter competition with those treasures
A Lover aimes at in his Mistresse favour.
May I not hope your smile?
Queen.
You must command it.
Asca.
Then give me leave to whisper to my hopes
What strange felicities I shall enjoy.
Queen.
But sir, consider how you gave away
To your Florentio, all that claime, you might
Have to me, as so great a neighbouring Prince.
Ascan.
It was a gift my ignorance made, which I
Was cozen'd in. For had my eye beene honor'd
With sight of such a beauty; safer he
Might have petition'd for my Scepter: And
The grant had not so soone begot repentance.
Queen.
But promises of Princes must not be
By after Arts evaded? Who dares punish
The breach of oath in subjects; and yet slight
The faith he hath made them?
Ascan.
But my Florentio,
Hath given me backe his intrest.
Queen.
That gift
Was like a vow extorted, which Religion
Cancels, as forc't from Conscience.
Asca.
But your selfe
Are free, and never by an oath made his.
Queen.
My resolution, grounded on his service,
Ties more than formall contracts.
Asca.
Ile not urge
You father, but by these, which never yet
[Page]Found passage through my eyes not he, nor all
Mankinde contracted to one heart, can harbour
A love that equalls that I burne with, Madam
Thinke on't: and let your thoughts finde out that path
Which leades to mercie.
Exit. Ascanio.
Queen.
How I am dazled,
Plac't on a precipice by tyrant Love?
The King is Noble, and his merits claime
A retribution great as I can make.
He loves me; and yeelds onely to Florentio,
In the priority of service. My sad soule!
Enter Florentio, lookes on the Queene, sighes and goes in againe.
Betweene these two I might stand distracted!
But Vertue guide me: Nor can I ere stray
While that directs, and honour beates the way.
Exeunt.
Actus Quintus.
Scena Prima.
Enter Decastro and his Armie.
Decast.
MY fortune yet forsakes me not. There's something
Whispers my soule, that though a storme did cloud
My morning, I shall set the envie of
My yet prevailing enemie. Had you
My fellow souldiers not beene three houres march
From ayding us, when the Castilian Armie
Made the assault: we had given their fate a checke,
And taught them how unsafe it is to Court
Dangers abroad. I must intreate your courage
To suffer for some moments, a short time
Will bring us the Queenes answere. If she yeeld
(As reason may perswade her) we shall spare
Much losse of blood, if not your valour will
Have liberty to shew it selfe. Yet still
Remember that the Cities forc't t' obey
A stranger; in their votes they fight for us.
Did no man see the Lord Ossuna since
Our fight ith' morning?
Capt.
He appear'd not since
[Page]We left the Citie to the enemie.
Which hath bred jealosie, my Lord, that he
Chang'd with the present fortune.
Decast.
Doubt him not.
He hath a heart devoted to the greatnesse
And safety of his Country. Well he may
Be lost ith' number of the slaine. But fate
Cannot enforce him stoope beneath the vow
Of rescuing Arragon from forraigne Armes.
Enter two common Souldiers, haling Ossuna in as an Hermit.
What insolence is this? Unhand the man,
Me thinkes his hahit should beget respect.
Sould.
My Lord we guesse he is some spie, he came
Sculking from th' enemies campe. Pray guard
Your person, mischiefe often lurkes in shapes
As holly.
Decast.
I allow your care and thanke it,
Leave him to me; and for a while retire.
Exeunt.
Ossuna.
Your Lordship knowes me not?
Decast.
Ossuna, welcome!
Blest bethy better Angell who preserv'd thee!
How happie to the fortune of this warre
Art thou restor'd? I should have fought unarm'd,
Had I not had the fare t' embrace thee thus.
How was my friend preserv'd?
Ossuna.
By vertue of
This sacred habit. In the mist of warre
Disguis'd I thus escaped, though close pursued
By some of the Queenes faction. To this weed
I owe my safety.
Decast.
Quickly throw it off,
And reinvest thy body in that steele,
With which thou still hast triumpht. O my Lord▪
How oft have we all bath'd in blood and sweat,
Though clouds of dust found out the way to force
Backe victory to our side; when fortune seem'd
To doate onth' enemie. We two have growne
Like Caedars up together, and made all
Seeme shrubs to us, no man sleeping secure
But in our shadowes.
Ossuna.
Yes; we have beene happie.
Decast.
Thou speak'st so hollow, as there were a doubt
We might not be so still.
Ossuna.
But there's is no faith
[Page]In humane fate. An Emperour did serve
As footestoole to the Conqueror: and are we
Better assured of destinie?
Decast.
What strange
Unworthy faintnesse weakens his great soule,
Who heretofore, neere understood the language
Danger speakes in? Hath one defeate lost you
That mighty courage, which hath fixt upon
Your name a glorious memory? Reassume
Your selfe my Lord: Let no degenerate feare
Benight the luster of your former acts.
Ossuna.
I call your selfe and Arragon to witnesse,
My life hath yet beene such, ye reverend shades
Of my great Ancestors, neede not looke pale
Or blush, to know my story. To your selfe,
To whose brave youth I tyed my youth a servant;
I ever have perform'd all Offices
Due to so brave a friendship.
Decast.
Tis confest.
Ossuna.
And here I vow, setting aside those feares
Distract me as a Christian; I could smile,
Smile like some wanton Mistresse, upon death
What ever shape it weares.
Decast.
My Lord this warre.
Is warranted by Casuists for lawfull▪
But they (you'l say) flatter the present state,
And make divinitie serve humane ends.
But in it selfe its just. A warre your judgement
Gave approbation to; and urg'd me first
To undertake. Therefore make good your owne,
And throw off this unusefull habit
Ossuna.
Never.
Decastro.
What sayd my friend?
Ossuna.
By all things sacred, never.
In this I will grow old, and with the weight
Of yeares bend to the earth▪ In this Ile breath
A happier ayre, then you in all your soft
And varied silkes.
Decast.
Some coward devill sure
Possesseth him.
Ossuna.
My Lord I am instructed
T' a patience far above your injuries.
Nor shall your scorne or anger triumph o're
My resolution. I'm fixt here, unmoov'd
[Page]As is the center.
Decast.
I was much to blame.
This may be a brave vertue. Pray my Lord
Give me your reasons, why you tread this path
So little beaten by the feete of Courtiers.
I would not have the world mistake your ayme,
And conster it to feare or melancholy?
Ossuna.
That cannot shake me. He who by the Card
Oth' worlds opinion steeres his course, shall harbor
In no safe port. But to your care my Lord
I give this free account. Seven winters past
When I set saile from Scicily, a storme
Ore tooke the ship, so powerfull that the Pilot
Gave up the Sterne to th' ordering of the waves,
His Art and hand growne uselesse; Those kind starres
The Sailors use t' invoke, were lost ith' tempest
And nothing but a night not to be seene
Was seene by us. When every one began
T' advance himselfe toward death as men condemn'd
To th' Axe, when hope of pardon is shut out.
I spight oth' envious cloud look'd up to heaven
And darted my faith thither: vowing to
Forsake the flattered pompe and businesse of
The faithlesse world, if I with safety might
Attaine the Land.
Decast.
Was not I there my Lord?
Ossuna.
You were.
Decast.
And made no I the selfe same vow?
Ossuna.
Heaven hath recorded that we both did vow it.
Oth' sudden night forsooke us, and the loud
Unruly winds fled to their unknowne dwellings;
When a soft breath gan whisper to our sailes
A calme was to ensue.
Decast.
My memory
Afflicts me much. But these are feeble vowes
Made onely by our feares: We ought to have
Our reason undismaid, when ere a promise
Can force performance.
Ossuna.
I dispute it not.
Soone as I reacht the shore I courted on
Those vanities which had my youth enamour'd,
Yet still with some remorse. Honors betrayd me
Into a glorious trouble, and I grew
Proud of my burden. But if heaven had beene
[Page]Severe to my delayes, in this diseas'd
Surfet of pompe, my soule might have beene call'd
T' her last account: And O my Lord where then
Had breach of vow beene safe.
Decast.
These are sad thoughts.
Ossuna.
But necessarie. When the mornings losse
Made me search out a shape for flight: this habit
It selfe presented; and againe redeem'd me,
And know I am resolv'd, neere to forsake it
Till in the vault, my earth and it together
Shall weare away to dust.
Decast.
My Lord you have
Good title to your vertue. Pray retire
Into my tent. This suddaine change, if knowne,
May much amaze the Souldier, and endanger
The glory of th' attempt. I shall intreate
Your prayer, since you denie your arme.
Ossuna.
My Lord may heaven direct you.
Exit. Ossuna.
Decast.
What have I obtain'd
By all this sweate of businesse? Like the winde,
Prosperous ambition onely swell'd my saile
To give me courage to incounter with
A tempest. Early cares and midnight frights,
Faint hopes and causelesse feares, successively
Like billowes have mooved in me. What a foole
Is humane wisedome; what a begger wealth;
How scorn'd a nothing that proud state we doate on?
Time laughes us out of greatnesse, and shuts up
Our wide designes in a darke narrow roome:
Whence when the valiant Monarch shall creepe forth
He will like some poore coward, hide his eyes
And hope to scoulke away. But these are thoughts,
And now 'tis time for Action.
Enter Souldier to Decastro.
Soul.
If your Lordship
Will please for some few moments to retire
Into your tent, her Majestie in person
Will give you parly here.
Decast.
In person sir?
The favour beares some omen! she who in
The tempest of misfortune still did spread
Her saile at large; why doth she strike them now,
The winde so prosperous? This is a descent
Beneath her greatnesse.
Souldier.
[Page]I reach not, my Lord,
The misteries of Princes, but this message
She charg'd me to returne.
Decast.
The Acts of Princes
Are govern'd often by as fraile a Passion,
As those are of the vulgar, the same rage
That stirres two footmen to a fray, creates
Warre betweene Kingdomes; but the zealous subject
Gazing a farre, on th' actions of the proud,
Finds towres and Lyons in an emptie cloud;
But Ile obey her leisure. Watch you here
Till you discover her advanc'd this way.
Exit. Decast.
Enter Ascanio, Florentio.
Floren.
Sir you created me; and rais'd me up
Toth' state of Duke, when I was common dust.
And had not fortune given me interest
Ith' favour of the Queene, I had continued
In the worst fate of man, ingratitude.
Now I can boast I have restored you backe
A love rich as the bounty you showred on me.
'Tis all the stocke of my poore life.
Ascanio.
Sad fate!
That I must wound thee to the heart, to cure
My Leprosie with thy blood. Florentio search
Ith' stocke of women there's some other beauty,
Floren.
O no! no other.
Ascanio.
Ile endow her with
The wealth of all Castile.
Floren.
Poore emptie nothing!
Ascan.
If Soveraignetie be th' Idoll of thy soule,
I will devide my Kingdome: thou shalt raigne
As independant as my selfe.
Floren.
Great sir,
Continue but your favour, and my starres
Cannot afford a greatnesse equalls it.
The treasures of th' ambitious, are the scorne
Of those who seriously contemplate life:
My fortunes high enough. And now my thoughts
Grow temperate; not for th' Empire of the East,
(Which yet retaines the treasures, man enjoy'd
Ere he grew blacke with sinne) would I have wanted
This blest occasion to expresse the zeale
I owe my Prince. Here with as free a soule
I give her to your Armes as ere you threw
[Page]A smile upon my service.
Ascanio.
Thankes deere friend!
(That word must speake our loves) by this great gift
Thou hast redeem'd me from the tortue, and
Possest me of the fairest.
Floren.
O!
Ascanio.
The fairest, Nature ere made for wonder.
Floren.
She is faire.
Ascanio.
Injoying her thy King shall live, who else
Were desperate beyond cure. He shall be envied.
And every yeare as age threatens decay,
He shall regaine new life from her. Florentio
Beleev't there's miracle in such a beauty.
Floren.
Surely there is.
Enter Queene Sanmar. Oniate, Cleantha, Floriana.
And see sh' appeares. How like some heavenly vision
That kills with too much glorie.
Ascanio.
Stand still, and wonder with me.
Queene.
Cleantha! O the prodigie! And how
Wilt thou endure his serious face? Canst thou
Whom nothing tempted but wit parcell guilt
And the last fashion, suffer Oniate?
Clean.
Madam! I undertake him for a pennance:
Perhaps he was enjoyned me.
Queene.
It was love
You went to shrift with then. And yet how that
Young wanton idlenesse, should counsell you
To this conversion still is more my riddle.
Clean.
The Court is full of wonders Madam: and
Tis hansome to doe things extravagant.
Queen.
But how in th'heate of warre, your thoughts should be
So apt for loves impression.
Clean.
Love will dance
As nimbly to the Trumpet, Fife, or, Drum,
As to those many Violins which play
So loud at Court. Moreover it concern'd
My safety. I so streightly was beseig'd
And by so strong a Caesar.
Queen.
O my Lord
I am inform'd with how fierce a spirit
You doe assault our Ladies.
Sanmar.
Pray your mercie,
And if your Majestie will please to banish
The Art of making love quite from the Court;
[Page]Ile not be out of fashion.
Queen.
For your sake
I will contrive it so: And good my Lord
Will you begin th' example; you will see
How soone the fine young Lords will follow you.
Your pardon sir, had I but seene your highnesse,
I had not lost so much of language from
A most expressive gratitude.
Ascanio.
Madam you pay a triviall debt with too great intrest
For how contem'd a slightnesse was my life
Untill imploy'd to serve you?
Florentio.
She glanced this way,
And Loves Artillery playd from her eye.
Unhappie banchrout what a Kingdome have
I forfeited? So often in a caime
Some vessell rich in fraught and proud in saile,
Doth spring a sudden leake, and sinckes for ever.
Ascanio.
But Madam is there hope your heart can yeeld
To an exchange in love? My title's good,
Florentio having given up his claime.
Enter Decostro, &c.
Queen.
But sir th' estate is still my owne nor have
I neede to sell it. But Decastro's here,
And if your Majestie will daigne your presence
Unto the parley'twill advance the honour
And purpose of our meeting.
Ascanio.
I'me your servant.
Queen.
My Lord you see how neere the safetie of
Our subjects toucheth us: We can stoope thus
Beneath our Majestie, and enter parley
Even with a Rebell.
Decast.
Madam, 'tis in vaine
To hold dispute gainst what you will condemne.
And it were insolence to boast my power,
Or speake my right, now when the hearts of all men
Confirme the justice of my taking Armes.
Cast but your eye on this vast body, which
The Kingdome doth unite in my defence,
And see how ruinous is your errour, that
Must leane to forraigne succors!
Queen.
Tis a refuge
Your practice forc't me to.
Decast.
But would your highnesse
Had lent a gentler [...] the safe counsell
[Page]Of him who had no crime but too much love.
Ascanio.
My Lord, that word fell rudely from your tongue,
And I may say, unmannerly; Tis duty
You owe the Queene.
Decast.
Right sir, an humble duty,
Ambitious to expose my life to dangers,
Greater than any other soule dares fancie.
Ascanio.
Pray stay Florention: this is now my cause,
And I (proud man) will tell you, your great heart
Doth want expansion to receive a love
Worthy her scorne.
Decast.
And I will answere you
(Proud Monarch of Castile) what mold
Soever Nature casts me in, my mind
Is vaster than your empire. And I can
Love equally with him whose name did Conquer
Kingdomes as large as yours.
Ascanio.
Your Majestie
Must licence here my rage, to teach his folly
(Presumptuous folly) a submisse repentance.
Decast.
Sir here I stand prepar'd.
A shout within.
Queen.
What noise is that.
Oniate.
The Cities all in Mutinie: and vow
To perish in the Lord Decastro's cause.
Th'are ready now to lay rude hands upon
The Garrisons of Castile. Your Majestie
Should hinder mischiefe; if you suddenly
Returne, and by your presence stop their furie.
Decast.
Pray Oniate take this signet: tell
The Magistrats, her Majestie and I
Are now accorded, with a due regard
To th' publique safetie. Take some of my armie
To give authoritie to what you say.
Assure them all is well.
Exit. Oniate.
Ascanio.
What meanes this wonder?
Floren.
This speakes him Noble, even to our envie.
Queen.
My Lord in this you have oblig'd us: Pray
Informe us of your thoughts, that we may studdie
To make this parley happie.
Decast.
Mighty Lady,
I finde my love hath not beene drest so smooth
To tempt your liking; and I must confesse
My passion (like the spleene of witches) hath
Begot whirlewinds and thunder. Would I might
[Page]Have found a softer way t' have wrought my ends.
For by your beauty (the most sacred oath
A Lover can sweare by) that was the marke
The sole faire marke I aim'd at. For if pride
Had overswayd my love, I could have stood
Oth' levell with that Prince, so much your people
Were vowed to my devotion▪
Queen.
On my Lord,
You fairely speake your vertues.
Decast.
And but view
The vastnesse, and good order of my Campe;
Your best townes sworne to runne my fortune, and
Youle say 'twas love did begge this enterview.
Ascanio.
My Lord your language cannot fright us from
The Queenes defence.
Decast.
Great sir, she needes it not.
Downe on your knees my fellow Souldiers, and
With me bow to your Soveraigne: sweare with me
Never to lift your Arme 'gainst her command.
Thus as your subject. As your Lover thus,
Thus to the earth I fall, and with my lippes
Seale my obedience.
kisseth the ground.
Queene.
Pray rise up my Lord,
Would I could merit thus much favour; but.
Decast.
Pardon I interupt you. But you cannot
Finde love to answere mine; nor will I force it
Be happie in your choise, and wheresoere
You sixe, shine ever glorious. From this houre
Ile never more distube you.
Queen.
Now beshrew me,
Me thinkes I feele compassion. Good my Lord
Write in that blancke all your demands, and by
The honour of a Princesse, Ile deny
Nothing you shall insert.
He lookes on it and returnes it.
Decast.
There tis agen:
The paper innocent as when you gave it.
Queen.
My Lord you have writ nothing.
Decast.
And tis nothing
Now I have mist your selfe, I can demand,
Fortune contract thy treasure from all Nations,
And guild it ore with honour and with beautie;
Yet hast thou not the power to force one wish;
Now I have lost this Lady.
Ascanio.
A great spirit.
Decast.
[Page]One humble prayer I have which must not be
Denied. And tis your Majestie will give
Me leave neere more to see you.
Queen.
O my Lord.
Decast.
My vowes irrevocable. I shall secure
Your Kingdome best by absence, and my eye
Will never brooke so rich a treasure made
The purchase of another. To a Cave
Some undiscover'd Cave, to which no path
Doth leade the wandring Lover, I have vowed
The remnant of my dayes.
Enter Ossuna.
Floren.
A strange conversion,
And 'twill behoove my fate to follow him.
Decast.
My Lord Ossuna here, and I have sworne
Our lives to solitude, which weele observe
Religiously; And since I cannot prove
Possessor Ile be Couqueror in Love.
Ascanio.
Pray stay my Lord. Behold Florentio there
He hath out donne you. He for love of me,
Hath done what you for love of heaven. All
The interest he had in that bright Queene
He hath resign'd to me.
Decast.
He hath payd you for
Your favours.
Floren.
Tis confest; what's mine is yours.
Ascanio.
Thankes my Florentio. For with her my youth
May be still happie, and my age disdaine
To know a weakenesse. From her eyes I may
Draw still new vitall heate, and finde what fooles
Have studied for, th' Elixar. In her Armes
I may be safe 'gainst all invasion from
Abroad, or civill dangers nurst at home.
Quest.
Your highnesse pardon. I confesse how high
Your merits rise in my esteeme, but must not
To honour your deserts, my selfe become
Unworthy after story, blemisht with
That scorne which still defames our Sex, registerd
A most Inconstant woman, or whats much
More infamous; one who reserves her love
To serve her profit, and exposeth it, to the Merchant that bids fairest.
Ascanio.
Madam spare that breath to cleere
The ayre when poyson'd by contagion.
I know your setled thoughts, and that my power
[Page]Or title weighs not in your love. Plorentio
I will no longer racke you, though the Queene
Beth' onely fire ere warm'd this heart, and I
Despaire ever to love agen; I will
Disdaine to be unjust. I will not be
Orecome in friendship; reassume thy right.
Floren.
Sir you undoe me; In your injurie,
I was lesse wretched, like a banckrout, now
Without all hope of payment I must owe.
Ascanio.
Th' ambition of my service, and disguise
Was to advance your fortune Madam: Nor
Can I attempt you farther though the conquest
Would wreath my Temples with a prouder Laurell,
Than the addition of the world unto
My Scepter. Be safe in your choise and happie.
Queen.
This goodnesse growes even to a Miracle.
In his behalfe sir, I must vow my selfe
A subject, and your servant.
Ascanio.
O command
For I have nothing Madam but obedience.
My Kingdome shall be proud to share with yours
In danger, and Ile glory to be stiled
Your Souldier.
Floren.
I am lost in wonder. Sir
I know not how to entertaine this blessing
I feare my Joyes will be my ruine.
Decast.
Be both happie.
And may time never father that blacke moment
Which shall appeare to you lesse fortunate.
Ascanio.
Joyne then your hands for ever. He doth live
Mighty indeed, w'hath power, and will, to give.
Exeunt.
The Song in the second Act.
NOt the Phoenix in his death
Nor those banckes where violets grow,
And Arabian winds still blow,
Yeeld a perfume like her breath.
But ô! Marriage makes the spell:
And tis poyson if I smell.
The twin beauties of the skies.
(When the halfe suncke saylors hast,
To rend saile and cut their mast)
Shine not welcome as her eyes.
But those beames, then stormes more blacke,
If they point at me I wracke.
Then for feare of such a fire,
Which kills worse than the long night
Which benumbs the Muscovite:
I must from my life retire.
But ô no! for if her eye
Warme me not; I freeze, and dye.
The Song in the fourth Act.
FIne young folly, though you were
That faire beauty I did sweare,
Yet you neere could reach my heart.
For we Courtiers learne at Schoole,
Onely we are sects to foole,
Y'are not worth the serious part.
When I sigh and kisse your hand,
Crosse my Armes and wondring stand:
Holding parley with your eye,
Then delate on my desires,
Sweare the sunne nere shot such fires,
All is but a handsome lye.
When I eye your curle or Lace,
Gentle soule you thinke your face
Streight some murder doth commit,
And your virtue doth begin
To grow scrupilous of my sinne,
When I talke to shew my wit.
Therefore Madam weare no cloud
Nor to checke my love grow proud,
For in sooth I much doe doubt
It is the powder in your haire,
Not your breath perfumes the ayre,
And your Cloathes that sets you out.
Yet though truth has this confest,
And I vow I love in Iest
When I next begin to Court
And protest an amorous flame,
You will sweare I in earnest am:
Bedlam this is pretty sport.
The Epilogue at Court.
VVE have nothing left us but our blushes now
For your much pennance, and though we allow
Our feares no Comfort, since you must appeare
Iudges Corrupt, if not to us severe:
Yet in your Majestie we hope to finde
A mercy; and that our pardon finde.
And how can we despaire you will forgive
Them who would please, when oft offenders live;
And if we have er'd, may not the Curteous say;
T was not their trade, and but the Authors Play.
The Epilogue at the Fryers.
VVHat shall the Author doe? it madnesse were
To entreat a mercy from you who are severe,
Sterne Iudges and a pardon never give,
For onely merit with you makes things live:
He leaves you therefore to your selves and may,
You gently quit or else condemne the Play,
As in an upright Conscience you will thinke fit,
Your sentence is the life and death of wit.
The Author yet hath one safe plea, that though
A Middlesex lury on his play should goe,
They cannot finde the murther wilfull, since
T was Acted by Command, in his owne defence.
FINIS.