The traytor A tragedie, vvritten by Iames Shirley. Acted by her Majesties Servants.

THE TRAYTOR.

Actus primus. Enter Pisano and Petruchio. Pisano.

DIdst bid him come?

Pet.

I did.

Pis. Goe backe agen, And tell him, I am gone abroad▪ Pet. Hee's here Enter Cosm. Already Sir. Pis.

Oh Cosmo!

Cos. Deare Pisano, That I could let thee neerer, into me, My heart counts this embrace a distance, yet, Let us incorporate. Pis. I was woing Cosmo, My man, to tell thee, I was gone abroad, Before thou cam'st. Cos. How's this? your words and lookes Are strange, and teach me to inferre I am Not welcome, that on riper Counsell, you Doe wish my absence. Pis. What for telling truth? Hee thus should ha but made thee fit to see Thy friend, thou com'st with expectation To heare me talke sence, dost not? Cos.

Yes.

Pis. La now! And to discourse as I was wont, of State, Our friendship, or of women, no such matter. Cos. This is more wild then usuall, your language I not so cleere as it was wont, it carries Not the same even thread although some words May knit, the sence is scatterd. Pis. Right, right Cosmo, The reason is, I ha straggled, And lost my se▪fe I know not where, in what Part of the world, and would not this be showne As well in him, to ha prepar'd thee now? Cos.

What humour's this Pisano, I am yet to understand?

Pis. Tounder stand? why Cosmo, Had I not chang'd my Dialect and Method, What neede this tedious Apology? Thats it, I would have had thee knowne before, Thou canst not understand me, yet thou hast A name in Florence, for a ripe young man, Of nimble apprehension, of a wise And spreading observation, of whom Already our old men doe prophesie Good, and great things, worthy thy faire dimensions. Cos. This is an argument above the rest, Pisano is not well; for being temperate, He was not wont to flatter, and abuse His friend. Pis. Beside, there is another reason, Thou shouldst discover me at heart, through all These mist, thou art in love too, and who cānot, That feeles himselfe the heate, but shrewdly guesse At every symptome of that Wanton Feaver, Oh Cosmo! Cos. What misfortune can approach Your happy love in fairest Amidea, You have beene long contracted, and have past The tedious hope, Himen, doth only waite An oportunity to light his torch, Which will burne gloriousat your nuptiall: Let jealous, lovers feare and feele what tis To languish, talke away their blood, and strength▪ Question their unkinde starres, you have game Before you sir. Pis. Before mee where? why dost Thou mock me Cosmo? shee's not heere: Cos. It is No pilgrimage to travell to her lippe. Pis.

Tis not for you.

Cos. How sir for mee? y'ave no Suspition, I can be guilty of▪ A treason, to our friendship, be so just, If malice have been busie, with my fame, To let me know—— Pi. You hastily interpret, Thy pardon I have onely errd, but not With the least scruple of thy faith, and honor To mee, thou hast a noble Soule, and lou'st mee Rather too well, I would thou wert my enemy, That wee had been borne in distant climes, and never Tooke cement from our Simpathies in nature. Would wee had never seene, or knowne each other, This may seeme strange, from him, that loves thee Cosmo, More pretious then his life. Cos. Love mee, and, wish This seperation? Pis. I will give thee proofe; So well I love thee, nothing in the world Thy soule doth hartily affect, but I Doe love it too, does it not trouble thy Beleefe? I weare not my owne heart about me, But thine exchangd, thy eyes let in my objects, Thou hear'st for me, talk'st, kissest, and enjoyst All my felicities. Cos.

What meanes this language?

Pis. But whats all this to thee? go to Oriana, And bath thy lips in Rosy dew of kisses, Renew thy eye that lookes as Saturne hung Upon the lid, take in some golden beame, Shee'le dart a thousand at one glance, and if At thy returne, thou findst I have a being In this vaine world, Ile tell thee more. Exit. Cos.

But sir, you must not part so.

Pet. Not with my good will, I have no great ambition to be mad. Cos. Petruchio, let mee conjure thee, tell What weight hangs on thy Masters heart? why does he Appeare so full of trouble? Pet.

D'ee not guesse?

Cos.

Point at the cause, I cannot.

Pet.

Why he loves—

Cos.

The beauteous Amidea, I know that.

Pet. Some such thing was, but you are his friend, my Lord, His soule is now devoted to Oriana, And he will dye for her, if this Ague hold him. Cos.

Ha.

Pet. Your doublet pinch you Sir? I cannot tel; But nere a woman in the world should make Me hang my selfe, it may be for his honour, Hee'le choose another death, hee is about one; For 'tis not possible without some cure, He should live long, he has forgot to sleepe, And for his dyet, h'as not eate this se'night As much as would choake a Sparrow, a Flie is An Epicure to him: Good sir, doe you counsell him. So, so, it workes; Exit Cos. This was my Lord Lorenzoes plot, and I Ha'beene his Engine in the worke, to batter His love to Amidea, by praysing Oriana to him, he is here, my Lord. Enter Lorenzo attended. Lor.

Petruchio, where's your Lord? how moves the worke?

Pet. To your owne wish my Lord, he has throwne off The thought of Amidea, and is mad For Cosmo's Mistris, whom by your instructions I have commended so— Lor.

My witty villaine!

Pet. Cosmo is with him, to whom cunningly I ha discover'd his disease, and I Beseech you interrupt 'em not. Lor. This may Have Tragicall effects Petruchio: For Cosmo, we shall prune his fortune thus, Oriana's wealth would swell him in the S •… ate, He growes too fast already, be still ours. Pet. My Lord, you bought my life, when you procur'd My pardon from the Duke. Exit Lor. Enter Pisa. and Cosmo. Pis. O friend, thou canst not be so mercifull, To give away such happinesse, my Love Is for some sinne I have committed, thus Transplanted, I look'd rather thou shouldst kill me, Then give away this comfort, tis a charity Will make thee poore, and 'twere a great deale better That I should languish still, and dye. Cos. While I have art to helpe thee? Oriana And I were but in treaty, howsoever, I were not worthy to be calld his friend, Whom I preferd not to a Mistris, if You can finde dispensation, to quit With Amidea, your first love, be confident Oriana may be wonne, and it were necessary You did prepare the Mother, be not modest— Pis. Each sillable is a blessing, harke Petruchio. Cos. There is an Engine leveld at my fate, And I must arme, Pis.

Away.

Exit Pet. Cos. This for thy comfort, Although some complements ha past betweene Me and Oriana, I am not warme Yet in the Mothers fancy, whose power may Assist you much, but loose no time, lets follow. Pis.

Thou miracle of friendship!

Exeunt. Enter Duke Frederico, Florio, and Alonso. Du.

Letters to us? from whom?

Al.

Castruchio.

Du.

The exile? whence?

Al. Sienna my good Lord, It came inclos'd within my Letter, which Imposd my care and duty, in the swift Delivery. Fr.

The Duke is pale oth suddaine.

Du. A Palsey does possesse me, ha? Lorenzo? Our Cosen, the enemy of our life and State, My bosome Kinsman? not too loud, the Traytor May heare, and by escape prevent our justice. Flo.

What Traytor?

Du. Signior Alonso, come you hither, What correspondency maintaine you with this Castruchio? Al. None my Lord, but I am happy In his election, to bring the first Voice to your fafety. Du. Most ingratefull man! Turne Rebell? I have worne him in my blood. Al.

Tis time to purge the humour.

Du. I will doot. Our guard, were he more precious, had he shar'd Our soule, as he but borrowes of our flesh▪ This action makes him nothing, had I beene In heaven, I could have lent him my eternitie, He turne conspirator? oh the fate of Princes! But stay, this paper speakes of no particular, He does not mention what designe what plot▪ Al.

More providence is necessarie,

Du. Right, right, good Alonso, thar't an honst man And lov'st us well, whats to be done? Al. Tis best To make his person sure, by this you may Discouer soonest who are of his faction Du. And at our leasure study of his punishment, Which must exceed death, every cōmon trespasse Is so rewarded, first apply all tortures To inforce confession, who are his confederates,. And how they meant to murder us, then some rare Invention to execute the Traytor, So as hee may bee halfe a yeare a dying, Will make us fam'd for justice. Enter Lorenzo Depazzi. Al. Hee is heere, Shal's apprehend him? Lo. Happy morning to My gratious Soveraigne. Du. Good morrow Cooze. Can Treason couch it selfe within that frame? We ha letters for you. Lo. Letters, these dread sir Have no direction to mee, your highnes Is onely nam'd. Du. They will concerne your reading, Alonso now observe and watch him Florio, Depazzi come you hither, does Lorenzo Looke like a Traitor? Dep.

How sir? a Traitor?

Du.

I sir.

Dep. I sir, by my honour not I sir, I defie Him that speakes it; I am in a fine pickle Lor.

I ha read—

Du. No blush? not tremble? read agen The substance is, that you maintaine A vigilant eye over Lorenzo, who Hath threatned with your death, his countries liberty And other things, touching reducing of A common wealth. Du.

I like not that.

Dep. All's out: A pox upon him for a Traitor, hee Has hedg'd meee in but Ile confesse— Du. What answere Make you to this Lorenzo? Lor. This o'th suddaine, Sir I must owe the title of a Traitor To your high favours; Envy first conspir'd, And malice now accuses, but what story, Mentioned his name, that had his Princes bosome, Without the peoples hate, 'tis sinne enough In some men to be great, the throng of stars The rout, and common people of the skie, Move still another way then the Sun does, That guilds the creature, take your honors back, And if you can, that purple of my veines, Which flowes in yours, and you shall leave mee in A state I sh'anot feare the great ones envy, Nor common peoples rage, and yet perhaps You may be credulous against mee. Du.

Ha!

All.

The Duke is coole.

Du. Alonzo looke you prove. Lorenzo what you say. All. I say my Lord? I have discovered all my knowledge sir: Dep.

stand too't—

Lo. With licence of your highnesse, what Can you imagine I should gaine by Treason? Admit I should bee impious, as to kill you, I am your neerest kinsman, and should forfeit Both name and future title to the State, By such a hasty, bloody disposition, The rabble hate mee now, how shall I then Expect a safety? is it reformation, Of Floence they accuse mee of? suggesting I disaffect a Monarchy, which how Vaine and ridiculous would appeare in mee, Your wisedome judge, in you I liue and flowrish, What in your death can I expect, to equall The riches I enjoy under your warm'th? Should I for the ayre, and talke of a new goverment, A Common wealth, loose all my certainties? And you above 'em all, whose favours have Falne like the Dew upon mee? have I a soule To thinke the guilt of such a murder easie, Were there no other torments? or can I Expect the people will reward your murderer With any thing but death, a parricide? Al.

So so the Duke's already in his circle.

Lor. But I am tame, as if I had no sence Nor other argument to vindicate My Loyalty, thus poysoned by a paper, In my eternall fame, and by a slave? Call to my brow, some one that dare accuse mee, Let him have honor, great as mine, to forfeit, Or since your grace hath taken me so neere, Your owne hight, that may seale may not expect Such a proportion'd adversary, yet let him Have name within his Country, and allow him A Soule, sgainst which, I may ingage my more, Then equall honor, then Ile praise your justice But let him not be one condemnd already, A desperate exile—is it possible A Treason hatcht in Florence, gainst the Duke Should have no eyes at home to penetrate, The growing danger but at Sienna, one Mu t with a perspectiue discouer all? Aske this good Councellor, or these gentlemen Whose faiths are tryed, whose cares are always waking About your person, how have I appear'd To them, that thus I should be rendred hatefull, To you and my good Countrie, they are vertuous And dare not blemish a white faith, accuse My sound heart of dishonor? sir you must Pardon my bold defence, my vertue bleeds By your much easinesse, and I am compelld To breake all modest limits, and to waken Your memory (if it be not to late To say you have one,) with the story of My faire deservings, who sir overthrw With his designes your late ambitious brother Hippolito, who like a Meteor threatned A blacke and fatall omen? Du.

Twas Lorenzo.

Lo. Be yet as just, and say whose art directed A countermine to check the pregnant hopes Of Saluiati, who for his Cardinals Cappe, In Rome was potent, and heere popular? Du.

None but Lorenzo.

Dep.

Admirable Traitor?

Lor. Whose service was commended when the exiles One of whose tribe accuseth mee had raisd Commotions in our Florence when the hindga Of State did faint under the burthen▪ and The people sweat with their owne feares, to thinke The Souldier should inhabit their calme dwellings, Who then rose up your safety, and crushd all Their plots to ayer? Du.

Our deere Cozen Lorenzo.

Lor. When he that should reward, fogets the men That purchas'd his security, tis vertue To beast a merrit with my services I ha not staru'd your treasurie, the grand Captaine Gonzales accounted to King Ferdinand, Three hundred thousand crownes, forspies, what bills Have I brought in for such inteligence? Dep. I doe grow harty All thy actions Stand fresh before us, and confirme, thou art Our best and dearest friend, thus wee assure Our confidence, they love us not that feed One jealous thought of our deare Cooze Lorenzo New welcome to us all, for you Alonzo Give o're your paper kites, learne wit, tis time. Where shall wee meet to night? Lo.

Pardon mee sir I am a dangerous man.

Du. No more a that I'le credit my soule with thee, shall wee revell This night with Amidea? Dep. The Duke courts him, Well go thy waies, for one of the most excellent Impudent Traytors— Du. Yet a murmuring Of a Traitor? wee shall sooner suspect him, That thinkes Lorenzo guilty. Dep. I my Lord, Dare boldly sweare, his honor is as free— From any treason, as my selfe, I did prophisie this issue. Duk. 'Tis an age Till night, I long to fold her in my ar mes, Prepare Sciarrha, but be very wise In the discovery, hee is all touchwood. Lor. I know he is her brother, leave the managing Of things to mee. Tu. Still when we expect, Our blisse, time creepes, but when the happier things Call to enjoy, each sawcy houre hath wings. Exeunt.

ACTVS SECVNDVS. Enter Sciarrha and Lorenzo. Sciarrha. MY Sister, though hee be the Duke, he dares not, Patience, patience, if there be such a vertue, I want it Heaven, yet keep't a little longer, It were a sinne to have it, such an injury Deserves a wrath next to your owne, my Sister? It has throwne wild-fire in my braine Lorenzo, A thousand furies revell in my skull, Has he not sinnes enough in's Court to damne him. But my Roofe must be guilty of new Iusts, And none but Amidea? these the honours His presence brings our house? Lo.

Temper your rage.

Sci. Are all the Brothels rifled? no queint peece Left him in Florence, that will meete his hot And valiant luxury, that we are come To supply his blood out of our families? Diseases gnaw his title off. Lo.

My Lord—

Sci. He is no Prince of mine, he forfeited His greatnesse, that blacke minute he first gave Consent to my dishonour. Lo.

Then I'me sorry.

Sci. Why should you be sorry sir? You say it is my Sister he would strumpet, Mine, Amidea? tis a wound you feele not, But it strikes through, and through the poore Sciarrah, I doe not thinke, but all the ashes of My Ancestours doe swell in their darke urnes At this report, of Amidea's shame: It is their cause as well as mine, and should Heaven suffer the Dukes sinne to passe unpunishd, Their dust must of necessity conspire, To make an earthquake in the Temple. Lo. Sir, You said you would heare me out. Sci. Why is there more Behind? Lo. And greater Master, your high blood Till I conclude Sciarrha, I accuse not Your noble anger, which I have observ'd, Is not on every cheape and giddy motion Inflam'd, but Sir, be thrifty in your passion, This is a petty trespasse. Sci. Has mischiefe any name Beyond this? will it kill me with the sound? Lo. My Lord, though the dishonouring your Sister, Be such a fact, the blood of any other But Alexander could no lesse then expiate, Yet this sinne stretches farther, and involves With hers, your greater staine did you e're promise him? Yet why doe I make any question? It were another crime, to thinke Sciarrah Could entertaine a thought, so farre beneath His birth, you stoope to such a horrid basenesse, Then all the vertue of mankind would sicken, And soone take leave of earth. Sci.

You torture me.

Lo. What then could the Duke finde, to give him any Encouragement you would be guilty of An act, so fatall unto honour, what When you were least your selfe? (as we are all Fraile compositions) did appeare so wicked In you, he should conceave a hope, and flatter Himselfe with possibility, to corrupt Your Soule to a deed so monstrous? Sci.

To what?

Lo. Though all the •… eeming glories of His Dukedome, Nay Florence State off •… rd it 〈◊〉 a •… ribe▪ And tempted the betraying of your name To infamy, yet to imagine, you Would turne officious pander to his lust, And interpose the mercenary bewde To Court your Sister to his sinfull coupling▪ Tis horrid, affrights nature, I grow stiffe With the imagination. Sci.

Hah!

Lo.

Yet this was his command I should impose▪

Sci. Lorenzo, I doe want breath, my voice is ravisht from me, I am not what I was, or if I be, Sciarrha thou hast talkt too, all this while Looke heedfully about me, and thou maist Discover through some cranny of my flesh, A fire within, my soule is but one flame, Extended to all parts of this fraile building, I shall to ashes, I begin to shrinke▪ Is not already my complexion alte •… 'd, Does not my face looke parchd, and my skin gather Into a heape? my breath is hot enough To thaw the Alpes. Lo. Your fancy would Transport you. Sci. Tis my rage, but let it coole, And then wee'le talke o'something, something sir, Shall be to purpose. Lo. Now the flame is mounted, My Lord I have given proofe, although he be My Duke, and Kinsman, I abhorte his vices, How e're the world without examination, Shoote their malicious noise, and staine my actions: Tis policy in Princes, to create A Favorite, who must beare all the guilt Of things ill mannag'd in the State, if any Designe be happy, tis the Princes owne. Heaven knowes, how I have counsell'd this young man, By vertue to prevent his fate, and governe With modesty: O the religious dayes Of Common-wealths! We have out-liv'd that blessing. Sci. But I have thought a cure for this great State Impostume. Lo.

What?

Sci. To lance it, is't, not ripe? Lets draw cuts, whether your hand or mine Shall doe an act for Florence liberty, And send this Tyrant to another world. Lo.

How, I draw cuts?

Sci. Coy it not thus Lorenzo, But answere, by thy name and birth, you are His Kinsman; we all kuow it, that you dwell In's bosome, great in favour, as in blood, We know that too, and let me tell you more: We know you but disguise your heart, and wish Florence would change her title. Lo.

How is this?

Sci. We know you have firme correspondence with The banisht men, whose desperate fortunes waite Your call to tumult, in our streetes, all this, Not to feed your ambition with a Dukedome, By the remove of Alexander, but To serve your Countrey, and create their peace, Who groane under the Tyranny of a proud, Lascivious Monarch, is't not true Lorenz •… ? My phrase is blunt my Lord. Lo. My Genius And thine are friends, I see they have convers't And I Applaude the wisedome of my Stars, That made mee for his friendship, who preserves The same religious fire, I will confesse, When Alexander left his pietie To Florence, I plac'd him beneath my Countrie, As we should all, but we have lost our soules' Or changd our active spirits, for a dull And lazie sufferance, let this secret bee •… n argument, how much I dare repose Vpon Sciarrahs honor, vertue witnesse, I chuse no other destinie, command Lorenzo'es fate, dissolve me with your breath, Ile either ive, in your exchange of faith A patriot, or dy my Countries martir. Sci. Thou hast a fire beyound Prometheus To quicken earth, thy flame is but a prophsie Of that high paramide, the world shall build To thy immortall name: it was the glorie Of Romans to preferre their Empires safety To their owne lives, they were but men like us, And of the same ingredients, our soules Create of no inferiour substance; ha? Lo. Heaven knows I've no particular designe To leape unto a throne, I will disclaime The priviledge of blood, let mee advance Our liberty, restore the ancient Lawes Of the republicke, rescue from the jawes Of lust your mothers, wives, your daughters, sisters, Sci.

Sisters.

Lo.

From horrid Rape las Amidea:

Sci. I am resolvd, by all thats blest, hee dyes Returne my willingnesse to be his pander, My sisters readinesse to meete his Dalliance, His promises haue bought our shame, hee dyes, The roofe hee would dishonor with his 〈◊〉 Shall be his toombe, bid him bee confident, Conduct him good Lorenzo, ile dispose My house for this great scene of death. Lo.

Be constant.

Exit. Enter Florio, and his Sister Amidea. Flo.

Now brother, what newes brings the great Lorenzo?

Sci. Let me have truce vexation for some minutes, What newes? preferments, honours, offices; Sister, you must to Court. Am.

Who, I to Court?

Sci. Or else the Court will come to you, the Duke Hath sent already for us Amidea: O that I knew what happy Starres did governe At thy Nativity: It were no sinne To adore their influence. Am.

What meanes my brother?

Flo.

Hee's transported.

Am.

I shall suspect your health.

Sci. I easily could forget I am Sciarrha, And fall in love my selfe, is she not faire, Exceeding beautifull, and tempting Florio? Looke on her well, me-thinkes I could turne Poet, And make her a more excellent peece then heaven. Let not fond men hereafter comm •… nd what They most admire, by fetching from the Starres Or flowers their glory of similitude; But from thy selfe the r •… le •… o know all beauty, And he that shall 〈◊〉 at so much boldnesse, To say his Mistris eyes, or 〈◊〉 , or •… reath, Are halfe so bright, so clea •… , so 〈◊〉 as thine, Hath told the 〈◊〉 enough of miracle. These are the Dukes o •… e Raptures, Amidea, His owne Poeticke flames, an argument He loues my Sister. Ami.

Love me?

Sci. Infinitly, I am in earnest, he employ'd Lorenzo, No meaner person in this 〈◊〉 , You must to Court, O •… happinesse! Ami.

For what?

Sci, What doe great Ladies doe at Court I pray? Enjoy the pleasures of the world, dance, kisse The Amorous Lords, and change Court breath, sing loose Beleefe of other, heauen, tell wanton dreames, Rehearse your sprightly bed-scenes, and boast, which Hath most Idolaters, accuse all faces, That trust to the simplicity of nature, Talke witty blasphemy, Discourse their gawdy wardrobes, plot new pride, Jeast upon Courtiers legs, laugh at the wagging Of their owne feathers, and a thousand more Delights, which private Ladies never thinke of: But above all, and wherein thou shalt make All other beauties envy thee, the Duke, The Duke himselfe shall call thee his, and single From the faire troope, thy person forth, to exchange Embraces with, lay siege to these soft lips, And not remoue, till he hath suck'd thy heart, Which soone dissolv'd with thy sweete breath, shall be Made part of his, at the same instant, he Conveying a new soule into thy breast, With a creating kisse. Ami. You make me wonder, Pray speake that I may understand. Sci. Why will you Appeare so ignorant? I speake the dialect Of Florence to you, come, I finde your cunning; The newes does please, the rolling of your eye Betrayes you, and I see a guilty blush Through this white veyle upon your cheeke, you wo'd Have it confirm'd, you shall, the Duke himselfe Shall sweare he loves you. Am.

Love me? why?

Sci. To Court, And aske him; be not you too peevish now, And hinder all our fortun •… ; I ha promis'd him To move you for his arme-full, as I am Sciarrha, and your brother, more I ha sent Word to him by Lorenz •… , that you should Meete his high flame, in plaine Italian Love him, and— Ami.

What for heaven, be the Dukes whoore?

Sci.

No, no, his Mistris, command him, make us.

Ami.

Give up my Virgin-honour to his lust?

Sci.

You may give it a better name, but doo't.

Ami.

I doe mistake you brother, doe I not?

Sci.

No, no, my meaning is so br •… ad, you cannot.

Ami. I would I did then, is't not possible That this should be a dreame? where did you drop Your vertue Sir? Flori •… , why move you not? Why are you slow to tell this man? for sure Tis not Sciarrah, he hath talk'd so ill, And so much, that we may have cause to feare, The ayre about's infected. Flo. Are not you My brother? Sci. Be not you a foole, to move These empty questions, but joyne to make her Supple, and pliant for the Duke, I hope We are not the first ha bin advanc'd by a wagtai •… e: No matter for the talke of musty people, Looke up to the reward, thou art young, and skill'd In these Court temptings, naturally soft, And moving, I am rough hewne, assist, wo't, With some queint charme, to win her to this game? Flo.

My Sister?

Sci.

I, I.

Ami. Come not neere him Florio, Tis not Sciarrha, sure my brothers Nurse Playd the impostor, and with some base issue Cheated our house. Sci. Gipsy, use better language, Or Ile forget your sexe. Flo. Offer to touch her With any rudenesse, and by all that's vertuous▪— Sci.

Why how now boy?

Flo. I doe not feare your sword, This with my youth, and innocence, is more Defence then all thy armory, what Divell Has crept into thy soule? Sci.

Youle not helpe?

Flo.

Ile never kill thee.

Sc. Tis very well, Have you consider'd better o •… the motion? Am.

Yes.

Sci.

And whats your resolve

Am. To have my name Stand in the Ivorie register of Virgi •… s, When I am dead, before 〈◊〉 f •… tious thought Should lurke within 〈◊〉 to betray my fame, To sucha blot, my hands shall mutinie, And boldly with a poniard teach my heart To weepe out a rep •… tance. Sci, Let mee kill thee My excellent chast •… ster, Flori •… Thou hast my soule, I did but trie your vertues, 'Tis truth, the Duke does love thee, vitiously, Let him, let him, he comes to be our guest, This night he meanes to revell at our house, The Tarquine shall be entertained; he shall, Serv.

My Lord, Pisano is come.

Sci. I had forgot his promise, Looke up Sister And shine with thy owne smiles, Pisano's come, Pisano thy contracted, honor'd freind, A gentleman so rich in hopes, wee shall Enter a Ser •… ant. Bee happy in's alliance▪ Enter Pisano, Cosmo, Freder. Welcome all, But you above the rest, my brother shortly, Sister and Florio entertaine your noble Freinds, some few minutes, I am absent, wee Must not forget prepare for the Dukes comming, Ile soone returne Exit. Am. You are not cheerfull sir. How ist my Lord? you were not wont to looke So sad when you came hith •… r. Pis.

I am not well Amidea.

Am,

Oh my 〈◊〉 !

Pis, Bee you Comforted Lady let all gr •… ifes repaire To this, their proper Center. Flo.

Sir how fare you?

Pis.

Alterd of late a little.

Fred. Vertuous Lady, I cannot chuse but pittie her, and accuse Pisano's levitie. Pis. Wo'd hee were come backe, I might ha finishd ere he went, and not Delay'd his businesse much, two or three words, And I had dispatch'd. Am. How sir? your language is Another then you vse to speake, you looke not With the same brow upon mee. Cos. Las sweet Lady, But who shall accuse mee? Pis. Wee shall expect to long, Lady I am come To render all my interest in your love, And to demand my selfe agen, live happier, In other choice Faire Amidea, tis Some shame to say my hearts revolted. Am.

Ha.

Pis. Heeres witnesse, all is cancel'd betwixt us, Nay and you weepe— Farewell. Am.

Hees gone.

Flo.

I am amazd.

Pis.

Now leade mee to my blessing.

Exit. Flo. Shall a long suite and speeding in his love With the worlds notice, and a generall fame Of contract too, just in the instant when A marriage is expected, bee broke off With infamy to our house. Am. Brother, if ever You lov'd poore Amidea, let not this Arive Sciarrhas eare thers danger in His knowledge of it, this may be a triall Of my affection Flo. A tryall; no It shewd too like a truth Am. My teares intreate Your silence Flo. You have Power to command it, dry your eyes then, Hee's return'd. Enter Sciarrha. Sci. How now, Weeping? where is Pisano, and his friends? Flo.

Their gon sir.

Sci

Ha!

Am. Guesse by my eyes, you may Somthing of sorrow hath befalne, no sooner You were beparted, cut some strange distemper Iuvaded him, wee might discerne a change In's countenance, and though wee prayd him to Repose with us, hee would straight back agen, So with Frederico, And signior Cosmo, he returnd. Flo.

The alteration was strange and suddaine.

Sci. Las noble gentleman—but come cleere up Your face agen, wee hope it wonot last, Looke bright agen I say, I ha given order— Enter Gentleman. Genu.

My Lord the Dukes already come.

Sci. Remoue, Good Amidea, and reserve thy person To Crowne his entertainement, be not seene yet. Exit Am. Enter Duke Lorenzo, Alonzo, attendants. Du.

Sciarrah, we are come to be your guest.

Sci.

Your highnes doth an honor to our house.

Du.

But wher's thy Sister, she must bid us welcome

Sci.

She is your graces handmaid,

Du. For this night, Let the whole world conspire to our delight. Lorenzo— Whisper. Lor.

Sir bee confident—and perish.

Enter Morosa, and Oriana in the garden. Mor. You shu'd not rashly give away your heart, Nor must you without me dispose your selfe, Pray give accesse to none—yet if Pisano Enquire, direct him to the garden, Cosmo Is young, and promising, but while Lorenzo Lives must expect no sun-shine. Enter Pisano, Cosmo, Servant. Pis. Theres for thy paynes, They are now at opportunity Cos. My Lord, Doe you prepare the Mother, and let m •… •… lose With Oriana. Pis.

What service can reward thee?

Cos. Take occasion To leave us private, this houre be Propitious, winne but the Matron to you. Pis.

She is prepard already

Cos. Loose no time Take the other walke. Exit Pis. & Mor. Ori.

My deare Cosmo:

Cos.

My best Oriana.

Ori.

You have bin too much absent I must chide you

Cos. You cannot sweet, I would I knew which way. To make thee angry, yes, that I might see How well it would become thee, I doe feare Thou art some Angell, and that sinne would bee An argument, to mee, that thou wert mortall I must suspect thy too much goodnesse else, And leave thee for the fellowship of Saints, I am to wicked. Ori.

You will make mee angry.

Cos.

But you will love mee still, I feare.

Ori. D'ee feare it? I'st a misfortune? Cos.

What?

Ori.

My love

Cos. Your anger, And yet the tother often times may carrie An evill with it, wee may love to well And thats a fault Ori.

Not where the objects good.

Cos.

Oyes: Alwayes beware of the extreames.

Ori. What meane you? I affect none but my Cosmo, Nor him with too much flame. Cos. If you should Lady, 'twere Not nobly done. Ori.

To love another?

Cos. Yes, If there be cause, that may be call'd a vertue: For what have I to ingrosse the affection Of any Lady, if she can discerne A greater merit in some other man: Wisedome forbid, but she command her smiles, To warme and cherish him. Ori.

So we should be inconstant.

Cos. Why not, if our reason be Convincd, that's no such fault as the world goes: Let us examine all the creatures, reade The booke of Nature through, and we shall finde Nothing doth still the same, the stars do wander And have their divers influence, the Elements Shuffle into innumerable changes, Our constitutions varie, Hearbs, and Trees Admit their Frosts and Summer: and why then Should our desires, that are so nimble, and More subtill then the spirits in our blood, Be such stayd things within us, and not share Their naturall liberty, shall we admit a change In smaller of things, and not allow it in What most of all concernes us? Ori.

What?

Cos.

Our Loves?

Ori. Have you a suspition I am changd, and thus Would schoole me for it, or shall I imagine That you are alterd. Cos. Yes, I am, and therefore Proclaime thy freedome, I doe love thee lesse, To shew I love thee more. Ori.

What riddle's this.

Cos. I will explaine, upon maturity Of Councell Oriana, I haue found I am not worthy of thee, therefore come To make thee satisfacton for my sinne Of loving thee, by pointing out a way, And person, will become thy affection better. Ori.

You have a pretie humour.

Cos. What dost thinke Of brave Pisano, shall his merit pleade Succession in thy chast thoughts? Ori.

I doe know him.

Cos. Thou canst not chuse, and I could study none Worthy thy love but him. Ori.

Tis very likely you would resigne then.

Cos. I to honor thee, His service will deserve thee at the best, And richest value. Ori.

Why it shall bee so.

Cos. Nay but be serious, and declare me happy That I may say, I have made thee just amends. I will thank thee. Ori.

Why sir I doe love him.

Cos. Oh when did Cupid aime that golden shaft •… But dost thou love him perfectly with a Desire, when sacred rites of marriage Are past, to meet him in thy bed, and call him Thy husband? Ori. Why sir, did you ever thinke I was so taken with your worth, and person, I could not love another Lord as well? By your favour, there be many as proper men, And as deserving, you may save your plea, And be assurd I need no lesson to Direct my fancie, I did love Pisano, Before, but for your sake, I meane to place him, A great deale neerer, sure he does but jeast. You did love mee. Cos.

Now by my heart. I love thee.

Cos. This act shall crowne our storie Oriana, Thou dost not know how much thou honorest me, For hees not in the common▪ list of freinds, And he does love thee past imagination Next his religion, he has plac'd the thought Of Oriana, hee sleepes nothing else. And I shall wake him into Heauen, to say Thou hast consented to be his. Ori. Pray tell me: But truely I beseech you, doe you wish Pisano mine indeede? are you jealous, And name him to accuse me? Cos. Not by goodnes, But if there be a charme beyond thy innocence, By that I would conjure thee Oriana, Love him and make three happy, it shall be My blisse to call you his, let me but o wne A servant in your memory. Ori. Unkinde, And cruell Cosmo, dost thou thinke it possible, I can love any but thy selfe? thou wilt Undoe my heart for ever. Enter Pisano and Morossa. Mor. You shall be Ever most welcome, if I be her Mother, Shee must declare obedience, Oriana— Cos. Goe cheerefully, thy Mother calls, to him Whose Orator I have beene, alas poore Lady, I halfe repent me since she is so constant: But a friends life weighes downe all other love; Beside, I thus secure my fate, Lorenzo Threatens my spring, he is my enemy. Ori.

Youle not compell affection?

Pis. No, but Court it With honour, and religion, thus invite it, Mor. I shall forget the nature of a Parent, Unlesse you shew more softnesse, and regard To what is urg'd, what promise could you make To Cosmo without me? or if you had— Cos. Here Cosmo' doth give up all •… tle to it, I have no part in Oriana now▪ Ori. I've heard too much, doe with me what you please I am all passive, nothing of my selfe, But an obedience to unhappinesse. Exit. Cos.

Follow her Pisano.

Pis.

Th'art all friendship.

Cos. Trace their warme steps, Virgins resolves are weake. Leave not her eyes, untill you see day breake. Exeunt.

ACTVS TERTIVS. Enter Depazzi and Rogero. Depazzi.

ROgero?

Ro.

My Lord.

Dep.

Make fast the Chamber-doore, stiffle the keyhole and the crannies, I must discourse of secret matters, dost thou smell nothing Rogero? ha?

Ro.

Smell? not any thing my Lord to offend my nostrill.

Dep. Come hither, what do the people talke abroad of me? Answer me justly, and to the point what doe they say? Ro.

Faith my Lord, they say that you are—

Dep.

They lie, I am not, they are a lousie impudent multitude, a many-headed, and many horned generation, to say that I am—

Ro.

A noble gentleman, a just and discreete Lord, and one that deserv'd to have his honours without money.

Dep.

Oh is that it? I thought the rable would have sayd, I had beene a Traytor, I am halfe mad certainly ere since I consented to Lorenzo, tis a very hard condition, that a man must loose his head to recompence the procuring of his honours: what if I discover him to the Duke, ten to one, if Lorenzo come but to speake, his grace wonot ha the grace to beleeve me and then I runne the hazard to be throwne out of all atother side: tis safest to be a Traytor, hum, who is that you whisperd to?

Ro.

I whisper?

Dep.

Marry did you sirra.

Ro.

Not I good faith my Lord.

Dep.

Sirra, sirra, sirra, I smell a Rat behinde the hangings? Here's no body, ha? are there no Trunkes to convey secret voices?

Ro.

Your Lordship has a paire on.

Dep.

I doe not like that face i'th arras, a my conscience hee points at me, a pox upon this treason, I have no stomack too't, I do see my selfe upon a Scaffold, making a pittiful speech already, I shall ha my head cut off, seaven yeares agoe I layd my head upon a wager I remember, and lost it; let me see, it shall be so, tis good policie to be arm'd, Rogero, imagine I were a Traytor.

Ro.

How sir?

Dep.

I but say imagine, we may put the case, and that I were apprehended for a Traytor.

Ro.

Heaven defend.

Dep. Heaven has somthing else to doe, then to defend Traytors: I say, Imagine I were brought to the barre. Ro.

Good my Lord, you brought to the barre?

Dep. I will beate you, if you wonot imagine at my bidding: I say, suppose I now were at the barre to answere for my life. Ro.

Well sir.

Dep.

Well sir, that's as it happens, you must imagine I will answere the best I can for my selfe, conceive I prithee, that these chaires were Iudges most grave and venerable beards and faces at my arraignement, and that thy selfe wert in the name of the Duke and state to accuse me what couldst thou say to me?

Ro.

I accuse your good honour? for what I beseech you?

Dep.

For high Treason you blockehead.

Ro.

I must be acquainted with some particulars first.

Dep.

Masse thou saiest right: why imagine, d'ee heare? you must but imagine, that some greatman had a conspiracy against the Dukes person, and that I being an honest Lord, and one of this great mans friends, had beene drawne in, for that's the plaine truth on't, twas against my will, but that's all one: Well, thou understandst mee, shew thy wit Rogero, scratch thy nimble pericranium, and thunder out my accusation ex tempore: Here I stand Signior Depazzi, ready to answer the inditement.

Ro.

Good my Lord it will not become me, being your humble servant.

Dep.

Humble Coxcombe, is't not for my good? I say, accuse me, bring it home, jerke me soundly to the quicke Rogero, tickle me as thou lovst thy Lord; I doe defie thee, spare me not, and the divell take thee if thou bee'st not malicious,

Ro.

Why then have at you, first Signior Depazzi, thou art indicted of high Treason, hold up thy hand, guiltie, or not guilty?

Dep.

Very good.

Ro.

Nay, very bad sir, answer I say, guiltie or not guiltie?

Dep.

Not guiltie.

Ro.

Tis your best course to say so, well imagine Irise up the Duke's most learned in the Lawes, and his nimble tongu'd Orator, have at your Signior.

Dep.

Come, come on sir, here I stand.

Ro.

I will prove thou liest in thy throate, if thou deniest thy Treason, and so I addresse my selfe to the most vnderstanding seates of Justice •… most wise, most honourable, and most incorrupt Judges, sleepe not I beseech you, my place •… ath call'd me to plead in the behalfe of my Prince and Countrie against this notable, this pernicious, and impudent Traitor, who hath plotted and contrived such high, hainous, and horrible treasons as no Age nor Historie hath ever mention'd the like. Here hee stands, whose birth I will not touch, because its altogether unknowne who begot him: He was brought up among the smal wares in the Cittie, became rich by sinister and indirect practises, married a Merchants wife at adventures, and was soone after advanc'd to be a Head-officer.

Dep.

Why you rascall.

Ro.

Peace sirra, peace, nay your Lordships shall finde him very audacious: This fellow not content to have his branches spread within the Cittie, I speake it to his face, let him denie it, was afterward by the corruption of his confederate, and the meere grace of his highnesse raised to honour, received infinite favours from his Prince of blessed memorie, yet like a wretch, a villaine, a viper, a Rat of Nilus, he hath practised Treasons against the sacred person of the Duke, for which he deserveth not onely to die, but also to suffer tortures, whips, racks, strapadoes, wheeles, and all the fiery brazen bulls that can bee invented, as I shall make it appeare to this honourable and illustrious Court.

Dep.

This rogues transported.

Ro.

With all my heart I obey your Lordships—thus then I passe from these circumstances, and proceed to the principall villanies that wee have to lay to his charge. Imprimis thou Signior Depazzi didst offer to a groome a 100 crownes to poyson his highnes hunting saddle.

Dep.

Did I?

Ro.

Do not interrupt mee varlet I will proove it, his hunting saddle, and woe shall be unto thy breech therefore, and finding this serpentive treason broken in the shell, doe but lend your reverend eares to his next designes I will cut em off presently. This irreligious nay Atheistical Traitor, did with his owne hands poyson the Dukes prayer booke, oh impiety! and had his highnes as in former times, hee accustomed but pray'd once in a month, which by speciall grace hee omitted, how fatall had it beene to Florence? but as by justice his excellence did then, and by his owne want of devotion, prevent this assasinates purpose, so we hope in his owne discretion, and the councell of his state, hee will take heed how he prayes hereafter while hee lives, to which every true subject will say Amen.

Dep.

May it please your honors—

Ro.

Thou impudent brazen fac'd Traitor, wilt thou deny it? more over, and like your good Lordships, hee hath for this fortnight or three weekes before his apprehension, walk'd up and downe the Court with a case of pistols charg'd wherewith, as he partly confessed, hee intended to send the Duke to heaven with a powder.

Dep.

This rogue will undoe the Divell at inuention, may it please this honorable—

Ro.

These are but sprinklings of his treason.

Dep.

Will you justifie this? did I any of these things you tadpole?

Ro.

Hold your selfe contented my Lord, he that is brought t •… the barre in case of treason, must looke to have more objected then hee can answere, or any man is able to justifie.

Dep.

I confesse and please your good Lordships.

Ro.

Marke, hee will confesse.

Dep.

Thats the the way to be sent of a headles errand▪ indeed I confesse that I never intēded any treasō to his highnes, nor ever sought the princes life, true it is, that I heard of a conpiracie.

Ro.

That that my Lord hath overthrowne him, he saieth hee never sought the princes life, ergo he sought his death, besides he hath heard of treason, now he that heareth and discovereth not is equally guilty in fact: for in offences of this nature there are not accessaries, ergo hee is a principall, and beeing a principal Traitor, hee deserveth condemnation.

Dep.

Shall I not speake?

Ro.

No, traitors must not be sufferd to speake, for when they have leave, they have liberty, and hee that is a Traitor deserveth to bee close Prisoner.

Dep.

All that this fellow hath vtterd, is false and forgd, abhominable lyes.

Ro.

I will speake truth, and I will be heard, and no man else in this place.

Dep.

I never dre'mt of a hunting saddle, nor never had so much as a thought of any prayer booke.

Ro.

You sit heare to do justice, I speak for the Duke and the safety of the common wealth.

Dep.

As for pistols, tis well knowne I could never indure the report one e'm, I defie powder and shot as I doe him that accuseth mee.

Ro.

I defie al the world that wil heare a Traitor speak, for himselfe, tis against the Law which provids that no man shal defend treason, and he that speakes for himselfe being a Traitor, doth defend his treason, thou art a Capitall obstreporous malefactor.

Dep.

Thou art a madman:

Ro.

Go to you have playd the foole too much.

Dep.

Thou continual motion cease, a pox upon thee hold thy tongue.

Ro.

The pox wonot serve your turne.

Dep.

Why then this shall.

Beates him. Ro.

Hold, hold good my Lord, I am sensible, I ha done, imagine I ha done, I but obeyd your Lordship, whose batoone I finde stronger then my imagination, my Lord you will answer this to strickei'th Court thus?

Dep.

I Am as wearie—harke Rogero one knocks, see, see thers to make thee amends see good

Knockes Rogero,

and say nothing pray heaven it be no pursevant.

Enter Petruchio with a Letter. Ro.

Petruchio my Lord, Pisanoes Secretary.

Dep.

But Lorenzoes Engine a very knave,

Pet.

My very good Lord.

Dep.

What's here? it can be no goodnesse:

Reades. My Lord I would not have you goe to bed to night, he wonot let me sleepe now, I dream't as much, something will be done to give Florence liberty: In the depth of night you may cunningly disperse some rumours in the Citty, that the Duke is dead, the people must be distracted, in the common fright be not you wanting in your person to assist their feares, and speake well of Lorenzo, speake well of the divell: my humble service to your Lord, and say he has power to command me in all things. Pet.

My very good Lord.

Dep.

No matter and you were both hang'd, Rogero, shew him the Wine-sellar: let me see, I must report the Dukes death, I cannot abide this word Death, yet he desires mee but to report it, hum, if it be false, why so much the better; th •… re will be the lesse harme in't, if it should prove true, they will beleeve me another time: Well I will drinke my selfe halfe drunke, and be fortified.

Exeunt. Enter Duke, Amidea, Lorenzo, Sciarrha, Florio, &c. Du. Sciarrha, you exceede in entertainment, Banquet our 〈◊〉 too. Lo.

He will feast all Senses.

Sci. Onely a toy my Lord, I cannot cal't, A maske, not worthy of this presence, yet It speakes the freedome of my heart, and gratitude For this great honour. Du.

Amidea must sit neere us.

Sci. Lords your places, 'twonot be Worth halfe this ceremonie, let'em begin. Enter Lust richly apparreld, the pleasures attending. Du.

Whose the presenter?

Sci.

Lust sir, pray observe:

Lust. Now let Lust possesse the throne Of Love, and rule in hearts alone: You sweete tempters to my Sinne, Beauty, smiles, and kisses winne Vpon fraile mortals, let them know There is no happinesse, but you Shoot no arrowes tip'd with leade Each shaft have his golden head: Call no Love, delude menstill, Through the flesh, their spirits kill, Nor spend all your art to take Common pesons, greatnesse make By your potent charmes to bee Subjects unto hell and mee, Inflame but Kings with loose desire, Yee soone set all the world on fire. Enter a young man in rich habit and Crownd. Du.

Whats hee?

Sci. A wild young man that followes lust, He has too much blood it seemes. Du.

Why lookes hee backe?

Sci. There is a thing cald death that followes him With a large traine of furies, but the Syrens Of lust make him secure, and now the hagge Embraces him, and circles him with pleasures, The harpyes meane to dance too, hang his conscience It whines too much. Lo.

This is too plaine.

Sci. Hee does not tremble yet, By an by sir you shall see all his tormentors Joyne with 'em, ther's the sport on't. Lo. Mee thinks they Should have beene first forth' antimaske. 〈◊〉 . Oh no! In hell they doe not stand upon the methode As wee at Court, the gr •… und maske and the glorie Begin the revells, Sister you doe ill To keepe the Duke in talke, he cannot see The divell for you, and the whipps: does not That deaths head looke most tēptingly? the wormes Have kist the lips off. The furies joyne in the dance, and in the end carries the young man away. How does your highnesse like this dance? Du. My eyes so feasted here, I did not marke it, But I presume 'twas hansome. Sci. Oh the Lethargy Of Princes! we ha kept you Sir from bed: More lights. Du. Good night to all, to you the best: Sciarrha binde us ever by performance. Sci.

We are all yours.

Du. And Florence thine, once more— Brightest of Ladies. Lo.

You are firme.

Sci.

Suspect not.

Exeunt all, but Amidea and Florio. Flo. I doe not like my brothers Morall Maske, The Duke himselfe was personated, I Wonder it did not startle him. Am. I hope Sciarrha does not meane so ill as that Did promise, he's return'd: his lookes are full. Enter Sciarrha. Of threatning. Sci. Amidea, goe not to bed, And yet no matter, I can doo't alone: Take both your rest, and in your prayers commend The Duke to Heaven, tis charity; has made His will already, and bequeathd his body To you Sister, pitty his soule for't, tis now Within few minutes of departing. Am.

How?

Sci. Why this way I must helpe him in his groanes To bring his flesh a bed. Am.

You wonot kill him?

Sci.

I am not of your minde.

Am.

I know you cannot.

Sci. You are not studied so perfect in His destiny I hope; I will endeavour— Am.

To kill your Prince?

Flo.

What here?

Sci.

No, in his Chamber.

Am. Shall it be read in Stories of our Florenoe, Sciarrha first did staine his family With such a Treason? Flo.

Was he not invited?

Sci.

Yes, by his lust.

Flo. And in your crowned tables, And Hospitality will you murder him? Sci. Yes, and the reason wherefore he was murderd, Shall justifie the deed to all posterity, He came to wrong my Sister. Flo. Wanton heate, Let youthfull blood excuse him. Sci.

So it must.

Flo. Mistake me not, oh thinke but who he is, The Duke, that word must needs awake your piety. Am. How will good men in this remembrance Abhorre your cruelty, that send to hell One with the weight of all his sinnes upon him. Sci. It is too late to coole with argument My incensed blood, will you goe dally with him, And let him bord your pinace: I hagon So farre in promise, if you claspe not with him, It will be dangerous if he out-live This night. Am.

I ha thought on't, send him to my bed.

Sc.

Ha?

Am. Doe not question what I purpose, heaven Witnesse to my chast thoughts. Sci.

Wot thou trust him?

Am. I will doe much sir, to preserve his life, And your innocence: be not you suspectfull▪ At the worst, you can but respite your revenge. Sci. Dost thou not feare unhappy Luenesse chance, Or wretched Philomels dishonour? Am. No: Give me his life, and send your wanton to me; Ile to my Chamber, feare me not Sciarrha, Have not one thought so bad, I sha' not prosper; Virgins n heaven will suffer with me. Exit Am. & Flo. Flo.

Trust her?

Sci. Tis but deferring of my justice, Shee wonot kill him sure: draw on her soule The guilt shee hates in mine, if shee doe yeeld To the hot encounter: ha? twill be just, That both their hearts weepe blood▪ to purge their lust. Exit. Enter Florio and Amidea. Flo.

My Ponyard?

Ami. I've no blacke intent To stain't with any blood. Flo. Take it, I know, thou art my vertuous Sister, It were wickednesse to doubt thy purpose Or the event. Ami.

Now leave me.

Flo.

Thou hast a guard of Angels.

Ami.

They are comming.

Enter Sciarrlia & Duke. Sci.

Looke, there she is sir, you know how to undresse her.

Du.

Dearest Sciarrha.

Sci. To your recreation, here Ile obscure my selfe, Florio? tis well. Withdrawes behind the hangings. Du.

Lady you know me?

Am.

Yes my Prince.

Du. I was so, Till I saw thee, but I gave up that title, A conquest to thy beauty, which among Her other wonders hath created me A subject and servant, and I shall Be happier to be receiv'd yours by One of those names then Duke of Tuscany. Am. Oh take your selfe agen, use your greatnes To make the hearts of Florence bow to you, And pay their duties thus. Du. Rise Amidea, And since you have given my power backe, it will Become me to command. Am.

And me to obey.

Du. I see thy noble brother hath bin faithfull To my desires, he has prepar'd thee with A storie of my love, which thou rewardst With too much humblenesse: thou hast a quarrell, And a just one with thy Stars, that did not make thee A Princesse Amidea, yet th'art greater, Aud borne to justifie unto these times A Queene of Love, Venus was but thy figure, And all her graces prophesies of thine, To make our last age best; I could dwell ever Here, and imagine I am in a Temple, To offer on this Altar of thy lip, Kisses her often. Myriads of flaming kisses with a cloude Of sighes breathd from my heart, Which by the oblation would increase his stocke, To make my pay eternall. Am.

What meane you?

Du. That question is propounded timely, hadst Not interrupted me, I should ha lost My selfe upon thy lips, and quite forgot There is a blisse beyond it, which I came for: Let others satisfie themselves to reade The wonders in thy face, make proud their eye, By seeing thine, turne statues at thy voice, And thinke they never fixe enough to heare thee. A man halfe dead with famine, would wish here To feed on smiles, of which the least hath power 〈◊〉〈◊〉 an Anchorite from his prayers, tempt Saints 〈◊〉 their bodies on, thou dost with •… ase 〈◊〉 aptivate Kings with every beame, and maist Lead them like prisoners round about the world, •… roud of such golden chaines; this were enough, Had not my Fate provided more, to make me Beleeve my selfe immortall in thy touches, Come to thy bed, transforme me there to happinesse; Ile laugh at all the fables of the gods, And teach our Poets after I know thee, To write the true Elizium. Am. Good my Lord, I understand you not, and yet I feare You doe not meane well, if you have brought with you A sinfull purpose which I may suspect. Du. Why Lady, what doe yon imagine I Came hither for? Am.

I know not.

Du. How? is't come to that? Your brother gave you more. Desirous of the sport, and brought me hither Ripe for your dalliance, did you not expect me? Am.

Yes.

Du.

And to what other purpose?

Am.

To tell you that you are not vertuous.

Du.

I'm of your minde.

Am. But I am not so wicked To bee of yours: oh thinke but who you are, Your title speakes you neerest heaven, and points You out a glorious raigne among the Angels, Doe not depose your selfe of one, and bee Of the other disin'herited. Du. I would Your brother heard you, prethee doe not wast This tedious divinity, I am Resolvd to grapple with you. Am.

Keepe off.

Shewes the Ponyard. Du. Ha? Turnd Amazon. Am. Prince, come not to neere mee. For by my honor, since you haue lost your owne, Although I bow in dutie to your person, I hate your black thoughts, tempt not my just hand With violent approach, I dare, and will Doe that will greeve you, if you have a soule. Du.

Thou dar'st not kill mee.

Am.

True, but I dare die.

Du.

Bee thy owne murderer?

Am.

Rather then you should be my ravisher.

Du. Thou can'st not be so mercilesse, uslesse sin To be unchast, I am thy Prince, I prethee Throw by that cruell weapon, let our warre De soft embraces, shooting amorous smiles, Kill and restore each other with a kisse, I know thou canst not bee unkinde so long, Then I command thee. Am I must not obey To be your strumpet, though my hand be unskilfull, I shall soone finde my heart. Du.

Ile not beleeve—

Am. Let this deserve your faith, I dare be just, Shee wounds her arme. This crimson river issuing from my arme. Du.

Hold.

Am. Never, it shall flow, and if this channell Yeeld not enough, Ile stricke another veine, And after that another, and not pittie The murmuring streame, till through a prodigal wound I have draind the fountaine: this doth weepe for you, And shall extoll my death, if it may teach You to correct your blood. Du. There's so much gone From mee Icoole apace; this action Hath shot an ague through me; Amidea, Pitty thy selfe. Am. Not, till you sweare repentance; I doe not faint yet, tis somewhat about, But I can finde a neerer way, this does it. Du. Containe, I am sorry, sorry from my soule, Trust me, I doe bleed inward, Amidea Can answere all thy drops: oh pardon mee, Thou faintst already, dost not? I am fearefull, The Phoenix with her wings, when shee is dying Can fanne her ashes into another life: But when they breath more sweete then all the spice That helps the others funerall, returnes To heaven, the world must be eternall looser: Looke to thy wound. Am.

May I beleeve you sir?

Du. I dare not thinke awry, agen I aske Forgivenesse, in thy innocence I see My owne deformitie. Enter Sciarrha, hastily embraceth Amidea, Enter Florio. Sci. Now a thousand blessings Reward thy goodnesse; thou deservst a statue, A tall one which should reach above the clouds. Justle the moone, that people a farre off Beholding it, may be invited hither In hope to climbe to heaven by't, but apply Betimes unto thy wound; Florio assist her. Ex. Am. & Flo. And now my Lord— Du. Sciarrah Ile begin to bee thy Lord, I brought intentions of dishonor to thee, And thy faire sister, but I am reconcil'd To vertue, and will studie how to satisfie For you and Floreuce. Sci. You will be more precious, Then had you never fallen, I am all joy in your conversion. Sci. Lorenzo? I think he has not said his prayers yet, But— Du.

What?

Sci.

I cannot tel, may be, he does not use it.

Du.

How?

Sci. My Lord, you now are lovely, Twere better you'd forget him, hee's not right At heart I feare. Du.

Feare nothing.

Sci. To be plaine, You cherrish your disease in him, and are Not safe while hee is neare you. Du.

Doe not envie him.

Sci. Then I must tell you sir he is a Traitor, Within my knowledge hath conspird your death. Du.

With whom?

Sci. With mee, I should ha kild you sir This night, and every mineut hee expects To heare you numberd with the dead, I can Demonstrate this, your pardon, but in truth, The injuries you meant us were severe, And he with as much violence did urge em To your destruction, but your pietie Hath charm'd my purpose, and I looke uppon you With new obedience. Enter Florio. Du.

Possible.

Sci. Wee wonot shift the scene till you beleeve it, Florio, intreate my Lord Lorenzo hither, Step but but behinde the arras, and your eare Shall tell you who's the greatest Traitor living, Observe but when I tell him, you are slaine, How heele rejoice, and call mee Florence great Preserver, blesse my arme that in your blood, Hath given our groning state a libertie: Then trust Sciarrha, but obserue, I heere e'm Enter Lorenzo. Lo.

Whom talkd he too?

Sci.

Tis done—

Lo.

What good Sciarrha?

Sci.

The Duke is dead.

Lo. Wee are not left so miserable, Heaven is more kinde to Florence. Sci. With this hand I made a passage for his soule. Lo. Defend Omnipotence, what murder'd? and by noble Sciarrha? how my eare abuses me! Sci.

Did not wee plot it too?

Lo. How wee? collect, I feare you are not well: pray tell mee why You talke thus? wher's the Duke? he hath a guard, An armie of heaven about him; who in Florence, Dares be so blacke a divell to attempt His death. Sci. This is fine eunning, why that diuell is Lorenzo, if hee dars deny it, wee are in private, You need appeare no stranger to that's done By your direction. Lo. I in the practice? Then let me creepe into the earth, and rise A monster to affright man-kinde, Sciarrha, I must abhorre thee for it, oh my Prince! My dearest kinsman, may thy hand rot off, Treason, treason. Sci. Then my sword shall fetch As they draw, the Duke interposes. another witnesse in thy heart Du.

Hold.

Lo. Tush, let him come, My royall Lord, nay, let him kill mee now, Ive so much joy and peace about mee, twere A sinne to wish my life beyond this minute. Du.

Put up I say.

Sci. My Lord, we are both cozend: That very smile's a Traitor. Du. Come, be calme: You are too passionate Sciarrha, and Mistooke Lorenzo. Lo. But I hold him noble: I see hee made this triall of my faith, And I forgive him. Du.

Yee shall be friends, you shall I say.

Enter Cosmo and Alonzo. Cos.

The Duke—

Alon.

Where's the Duke?

Cos. My Lord, we are blest to see you safe, report Hath frighted all the Cittie with your death: People forsake their beds, and seeking how To be inform'd, increase the wretched tumult. Alon. There's nothing but confusion: all men tremble As if some generall fire invaded Florence. Sci.

Have comfort sir.

Du.

Whats to be done?

Lo. Depazzi has remembred, My Lord there is no safety for the State, Unlesse you personally appease 'em. Du.

How?

Lo.

I hope theile teare him, would he were dead any way.

Alon.

He hath counselld well.

Cos.

Your presence onely hath the power to charme 'em.

Du. I feare their rage: where is our Guard? Alonzo, haste afore, proclaime our pardon, And that we live to give the offenders mercy. Why are we borne to greatnesse, mockt with State, When every tumult staggers our proud fate? Sci.

Our quarrell is deferd Sir.

Exeunt.

ACTVS QVARTVS. Enter Lorenzo. MY plots thrive not, my Engines all deceive me; And in the very point of their discharge Recoile with danger to my selfe: are there No faithfull villaines left in nature? all Turn'd honest? man nor spirit aide Lorenzo, Who hath not patience to expect his fate: But must compell it? how Sciarrha plaid The dog-boltwo'me, and had not J provided Jn wisedome for him, that distresse had ruin'd me, His frozen Sister Amidea too Hath halfe converted him; but J must set New wheeles in motion, to make him yet More hatefull, and then cut him from his stalke, Ripe for my vengeance: Jle not trust the rabble Confusion on the giddy multitude, That but two minutes ere the Duke came at'em, Bellow'd out libertie, shooke the Cittie with Their throates, no sooner saw him but they melted With the hot apprehension of a gallowes: And when a pardon was proclaimd, (a fine State-snaffle for such Mules) they turnd their cry To acclamations, and deaf'd Heaven to beg His long and prosperous reigne, a suddaine rot Consume this base heard, and the divell want, Any Cattle for his owne teeth, these are for him. Enter a Servant. Ser.

Sciarrha, my Lord desires to speake with you.

Lo. Sciarrha, come neere—you understand, admit him. Exit. Ser. Welcome my noble Lord, Enter Sciarrha. You were not wont to visite me. Sci.

Nor meane ever to doot agen.

Lo. You bring frownes, J can be sullon too: what is your pleasure? Sci▪

You have abus'd me.

Lo.

You have injur'd me.

Sci.

Jn what?

Lo.

Betraid me basely to the Duke.

Sci.

You deny'd then, you were a Traitor.

Lo. Yes, J was no foole to runne my neck •… upon The Axe, and give you such a cause of triumph, Were it agen in question— Sci. Y'are a villaine sir. And I must have it certified under your owne hand To shew the Duke. Lo. You shall be humbled to Confesse the contrary, nay subscribe That I am honest, and desire my pardon; Looke, I have a sword, and arme, and vigour Dare fight with thee, didst ride upon a whirle-winde, Provoke me on a rocke, in waves, in fire? And kill thee without scruple, such a strength Is innocence. Sci. Innocence? dost not feare a thunder-bolt? I shall be charitable to the world, and I Cut thee in peeces; and yet then I feare Thou wo't come together againe: the divell does Acknowledge thee on earth the greater mischiefe, And has a feare when thou art dead, he sha'not Be safe in hell: thou wot conspire with some Of his blacke fiends, and get his kingdome from him: Didst not thou raile vpon the Duke? Lo.

I grant it.

Sci.

Call him a Tyrant?

Lo. More I doe confesse, I did exasperate you, to kill or murder him; Give it what name you please, with joy I brought him Under the colour of your guest, to be The common sacrifice: all this I remember; But is heavens stocke of mercy spent already, That sinnes though great and horrid, may not be Forgiven, to the heart that groanes with penitence? Are the eternall fountaines quite seal'd up? I was a Villaine, Traitor, Murderer, In my consenting to his death, but hope Those staines are now washt off. Sci.

Hast thou repented?

Lo.

Trust me, I have.

Sci.

The divell is tum'd religious, augment not thy dānation.

Lo. As he was A lustfull Duke, a Tyrant, I had lost him In his returne to piety: he commanded My prayers, and fresh obedience to waite on him; Hee's now my Prince agen. Sci.

This is but cunning to save your life.

Enter divers gentlemen arm'd. Lo.

My life? within there, ha? welcome.

My gracious Lord.

2 Wilt please your honour Command my service? 3

Or me?

Or any?

Our swords and lives are yours.

Sci. Perhaps your Lordship hath some businesse With these Gentlemen, Ile take some other time. Lo. By no meanes good Sciarrha: You visite seldome, those are dayly with me, Men that expect imployment, that weare swords, And carry spirits, both to be engag'd, If I but name a cause: Gentlemen, •… raw. Sci.

My providence has betrayd me.

Lo. Now Sciarrha, you that with single valour dare come home To affront me thus; know; but too late, thy heart Is at the mercy of my breath: these swords Can fetch it when I please, and to prevent Your boast of this great daring: I beseech As you doe love and honour your Lorenzo, No hand advance a weapon, sheath agen, And leave us; I owe service to your loves; But must not so dishonour you. All gentl.

We obey.

Exeunt Gentlemen. Sci.

They're gone: this is some noblenesse.

Lo. You see I doe not feare your sword; alone I have Too much advantage, yet you may imagine How easily I could correct this rashnesse: But in my feare to offend gracious Heaven With a new crime, having so late obtain'd My peace, I give you freedome. Sci.

Doe I dreame?

Lo. Pray chide me still, I will be patient To heare my shame. Sci. Is this to be beleev'd? Doth not Lorenzo counter feit this vertue? Hee does? it is impossible he should repent. Lo. Why tell me Sciarrha, and let us argue a while In cooler blood; did not you once resolve To kill the Duke too? Sci.

I confesse—

Lo. To give him death with your owne hand? Methinkes it should be the same parricide In you, if not a greater; yet you chang Your purpose, why did you not goe through And murder him? Sci.

He was converted.

Lo. Good, that taught you mercy, & perhaps repētance For your intent. Sci.

It did.

Lo. Why should not sir The same conversion of the Duke possesse My heart, with as much pietie to him And sorrow for my selfe? if I should say You are but cunning, is this shape of honesty, And still suspect your soule to be a Traitor? Might you not blame my want of charitie? Sci. He saies but right, we are Both men, fraile things▪ •… is not impossible. Lo. I am reconcild to heaven already, and the Duke, if you Be still unsatisfied, I am readie sin. Sci. The circumstance considerd, I incline To thinke this may be honest. Lo. Come Sciarrha, We are both hastie: pardon my rash language In the beginning, I will studie service Shall make you love me: I ha bin too wicked, Too full of passion, inexorable: My nature is corrected, at this minute: I'me friends with all the world, but in your love Shall number many blessing. Sci.

I am converted.

Enter Petruchio. Lo.

Whats the newes?

Pet. My Lord Depazzi prayes some conference In the next chamber we arrivd by chance Together at your gate: I doe not like his talke sir. Lo. Hang him propertie, let him Expect, thou art come i'the opportunitie: I could have wisht, be wise and second mee. Sci. He waits upon Pisano, Whose health I may enquire, I ha not seene him Since he departed sick, a fit occasion. Lo. Married to Oriana: thou mistak'st, Tis Amidea, Lord Sciarrha's sister. Pet. That contract's broken, and the old Lady Morrossa is violent to have the marriage Finished with her daughter. Lo. Sciarrha, I'st true Pisano marries Oriana The rich Morassa's daughter. Sci.

Ha?

Lo. Wee did expect to here your sister should Have beene his bride: has he forsaken Amidea? Sci.

Do not you serve Pisano?

Pet.

Yes my Lord.

Sci. And dare you talke hee's to be married To Oriana? Pet. If they live till to morrow: Ther's great provision to my knowledge and— Sci.

Take that, & learne to speake a truth hereafter.

Lo. That blow shall cost his life, It is not possible hee dares affront You thus; the world takes notice of a contract, Hee's much to blame if he should wrong so sweet A Lady as Amidea, now by Hymen. Tis not so honorable hee neede not scorne, Such an alliance. Pet. I am not to give Account for my Lords actions, let him answere And justifie his honor: but my Lord Since J am provoked, J must declare he has Call'd back his vowes to Amidea, given Her freedome, and does meane to use his owne, And this he dares publish. Lo.

What, disclaim'd a Lady of her birth and glorious merit?

Sci.

Th'art a villaine,

Lo My Lord he is not worth your anger, hee Declares but what his master hath committed, Tis none of his fault. Pet. It becomes my dutie To take correction my Lord, from you, I am a servant, a poore gentleman. Sci.

Shall I suspect the circumstance at his departure?

Lo.

It is strange you knew not this before.

Sci.

I must examine if he dares—

Lo.

Be patient.

Sci. Teach fooles and children patience, The dogs eate up Sciarrha; let me live The prodigie of sorrow, die a death That may draw teares from Scithians, if Pisano Leade o •… re his threshold, any soone wonne dame To be my sisters shame: I am calme now; One false, heaven why should thy altars save? Tis just that Hymen light him to his grave. Exit Lo. A thousand furies swell his rage, although Pisano bleed, this is the safest killing; Wisemen secure their fates and execute Invisibly, like that most subtle flame That burnes the heart, yet leaves no path or touch Vpon the skinne to follow or suspect it: Farewell dull passionate foole, how this doth feede me? Kill and be lost thy selfe; or if 〈◊〉 sword Conclude thy life both waies I am reveng'd. Petruchio, thou didst hit my instructions rarely, And I applaude thee': now send in Depazzi, and visit me anon. Pet.

I shall my Lord.

Exit. Lo. Some Polititian That is not wise, but by a president, Would thinke me weake for using such an instrument, As this Depazzi; but I know by proofe, Such men whom feare and honour make our creatures, Doe prove safe Engines, fooles will still obey, When cunning knaves our confidence betray. Enter Depazzy and Rogero. Dep.

My Lord, I would speake a word or two in private.

Lo.

You may.

Dep.

Is no body within hearing? all cleere behind the arras?

Lo.

Make no doubt sir.

Dep.

My Lord the truth is, I am very fearefull: is your Lordship sure there are no eves droppers.

Lo.

What needs this circumstance? I pray come to the point.

Dep.

Tis not unknowne to your Lordship, that you have bin my very good Lord, neither am I ignorant, that I am your humble servant, you advanc'd men, brought me into the number of the nobles, and I brought you a reasonable number of crownes: I am not the first wise Cittizen that hath bin converted into a foolish Courtier, but my Lord, I beseech you pardon mee: it will out.

Lo.

Whats the matter?

Dep.

I am ready to burst.

Lo.

With what?

Dep.

Treason, treason, now'ts out, and I feele my bodie the lighter fort alreadie: the last plot did not take you see, and I would humbly intreate your Lordship to excuse mee, and get some body else hereafter to be your Traitor in my stead.

Lo.

How sir?

Dep.

If you did but know the tendernesse of my constitution, or feele the pangs and conv •… sions that I suffer, you would pittie mee: I fall awaie you see, I cannot sleepe for dreaming of an axe, I have caus'd, my hangings of Holefernes to be taken downe in my dining roome, because I dare not looke upon a head that is cut off in it, something of my complexion: my wisedome tels mee I am a foole to be so fearefull, but my conscience tels me I am a greater foole if I ha not wit enough in my pare to keepe my head on my shoulders, I beseech your Lordship take mee into your consideration, I am but a mortall, though I bee a Lord, every man hath not the like gift of impudence, I have a weake stomacke▪ and treason is phisicke to mee, and although I do not vomit up your secrets they may out some other waie.

Lo.

You wonot betraie mee.

Dep.

But alasse in such a case I may soone bewray my selfe, and then your Lordship may soone be smelt out: to prevent therefore some mischeefe that may happen, I desire to leave off while I am well, end that your Lordship may know I meane plainely: I ha brought you all your letters, I durst not trust any other place with 'em for feare of state rats, I have unript my bo some to you, and there they are to a title—now I may safely sweare I have no hand with your Lordship.

Lo.

This is very strange.

Dep.

Mistake not my good Lord, J am still your creature, but I have a great minde to bee honest a little while, among the weaker sort of nobilitie: yet thus much perswade your selfe, I will ne'er wrong your Lordship in a sillable, should you tell me of athousand treasons, and stratagems, J will never reveale any, J scorne that, but your Lordship must pardon mee, J will be a Traitor no longer, that's certaine, J will be honest, and the rather because nobody shall hit mee in the teeth after J am dead, and say looke were Depazzi carries his head very high, and my Lord the more to induce your Lordship to dismisse mee—Rogero.

Ro.

My Lord.

Dep.

Giue me the gold, I have brought 1500 crownes more.

Lo.

Wherefore?

Dep.

That J may have my Lordships good will, to leave my office before it be taken from mee, and preferd to a worse, tis halfe the price J paid for't, J loue peace and a litttle honestie, J know your honor will finde an able man for it, and it is fit J should pay for my quietus.

Lo.

And what doe you resolve?

Dep.

To returne to the dunghill from whence J came, for though J was borne in the Citie, J have some land in the countrie durtie acres, and Mansion house, where J will be the miracle of a courtier, and keepe good hospitalitie, love my neighbours, and their wives, and consequently get their children, bee admird amongst the Justices, sleepe vpon every bench, keepe a Chaplaine in my owne house to be my Idolator, and furnish me with jests; and when I have nothing else to doe, I will thinke of the court, and how much I have bin oblig'd to your Lordship: my Lord I may doe you service with a leading voice in the countrie, the kennell will cry a my side if it come to election, you or your friend shall carrie it, against the Common wealth.

Lo.

Well sir, since you have express'd your selfe so freely, I will not councell you against your disposition to stay at court, you may goe when, and whither you please; and though at parting J have nothing worth your acceptation, I will bestow these Crownes upon your servant.

Dep.

Thou shalt give 'em mee agen.

Ro.

Indeed my Lord J love a little honestie, tis his Lordships bountie, it will bee a stocke to set mee up, for my selfe at Court, when your Lordship is retir'd into the Countrie, I humbly thanke your Lordship: and take my leave of yours.

Exit. Enter a servant Ser.

The Duke my Lord.

Exit servant. Dep.

How the Duke?

Du.

Signior Depazzi.

Lo. He has bin earnest with mee, and please your highnesse To be his humble suitor, he may have Freedome to leave the Court. Du.

Hee shall be banisht

Dep.

How?

Lo.

What time will your grace allow to provide?

Du.

Two howers.

Dep. I had rather loose my head at home, and save charges Of travaile, I beseech your grace. Du.

Well tis granted, let him not trouble us.

Lo.

Enjoy the countrie, and returne when the Duke sends for you.

Dep.

I hūbly thanke his highnes, and wilpray for your increase of grace.

Exit. Du.

Lorenzo, are wee private?

Lo.

Yes my Lord.

Du.

I am very melancholie.

Lo.

J know the cause, tis Amidea.

Du.

Right.

Lo.

I doe not wish her dead.

Du.

It were a sinne.

Lo. Not in heaven sir, yet There be Ladies, that would thinke it a promotion. Du. It were pittie she should leave The world, till she hath taught by her example The neerest way Lo.

I am very confident shee's yet honest.

Du.

Yet Lorenzo?

Lo. I sir, but I'me not of opinion it is Impossible to know a change. Du.

Take heed.

Lo. I must confesse shee has beene very valiant, In making you remove your seige, and shewd Prettie dexteritie at the ponyard, See her selfe bleed: but this a mortall Virgin Might doe, and not be adord for't: other weomen Have gone as farre, or else false Legends have Beene thrust upon the easie world: some say There have bin creatures that have killd themselves, To save their sullen chastities; but I Have no strong faith that way, yet you were startled To see her strike her arme, and grew compassionate. Du. I was not Marble, we breake Adamant With blood, and could I be a man, and not Be moov'd to see that hastie eb be of li •… e For my sake? Lo. I have read some aged Stories: What thinke you of Lucrece? shee is rememberd. Du.

Chastities great example.

Lo. How the world Was cozend in her? shee knew of Tarquin first, And then suspecting she should never meete Agen the active Gentleman, having Determin'd of his death, with well dissembled Sorrow did stab her selfe, in hope to meete The gamester in Elizium, Amidea, You will allow beneath this Roman Dame. Du. Lorenzo had the burning ravisher, Made this attempt on Amidea, shee Would have compelld his penitence, to quench His fire with holy teares. I had a body Refin'd to aire, or I was borne up by A thousand wings: methought I could have flowne And kiss'd the cheeke of Cynthia, thence with ease Have leapt to Uenus Starre, but I was wounded, And the gay feathers, in whose pride I had My confidence, serv'd now but with their waight To hasten me to earth. Lo. Ascend agen, And fixe in your lov'd orbe, he brings this comfort That can assure it, if you have not lost A heart to entertaine with love and pleasure The beauteous Amidea. Du.

Ha?

Lo.

You shall enjoy her.

Du. Enjoy faire Amidea? doe not tempt, Or rather mocke my frailtie with such a promise. Lo. Shake off your melancholie slumber, I Have heere decreed you shall possesse her: she Be sent submissive to your armes, and you Be gracious to accept what she made coy of. Du.

Is this in nature?

Lo. Thus: Sciarrhas life And fortunes are alreadie growing forfeit These braines have plotted so: your mercy shall Purchase what you can wish, for, in his Sister And hee acknowledge rifling of her honour, A faire and cheape redemption. Du. Doe this, And Ile repent the folly of my penitence, And take thee to my soule, a neerer pledge Then blood or nature gave mee: I'me renewd, I feele my naturall warmth returne, when, where, Is this to be expected? I grow old, While our embraces are deferd. Lo. J goe, to hasten your delight, prepare your blood For amorous game: Sciarrhas fate is cast Firmer then destinie. Du.

Thou art my Prophet, Jle raise thee up an Altar.

Lo.

Trust these braines.

Du.

Thou mak'st my spirit caper in my veines.

Exit. Cosmo and two Gentlemen above▪ 1 Gen.

This way they passe.

Cos.

J would not see 'em.

2 Gen.

Why?

1 Gen.

What melanchollie o'the suddaine? it is now past cure.

Cos. J know it is, and therefore doe not Desire to witnesse their solemnitie, should Oriana See me to day. 2

What then?

Cos. The object J Feare would be too prodigious. 2

We dispute not those nice formalities.

Enter Alonzo, Piero, Pisano, Oriana, Morossa, 1

She has spied you already.

Cos.

I am sorry for't.

Oriana faints. Mor.

How is't my childe?

Pis. My dearest Oriana, Shee faints, what griefe is so unmannerly To interrupt thee now Oriana? Mor.

Daughter!

Pis. Will Heaven divorce vs ere the Priest have made Our Marriage perfect? we in vaine hereafter Shall heare him teach, that our Religion binds To have the Churches ceremonie, she returnes. Oria. Why were you so unkinde to call me from A pleasing slumber? Death has a fine dwelling. Pie. This shewes her heart's not yet consenting, tis Her Mothers fierce command. Ori.

Something spake to me from that window.

Pis.

There is nothing.

Ori.

Nothing now.

Pis.

Set forward.

Alon. I doe not like this interruption: tis Ominous. Enter Amidea. Am. Not for my sake, but for your owne, go backe, Or take some other way, this leads to death My brother. Pis.

What of him?

Am. Transported with The furie of revenge for my dishonour, As he conceives; for tis against my will: Hath vowd to kill you in your Nuptiall glory. Alas I feare his haste, now good my Lord, Have mercy on your selfe, I doe not begge Your pittie upon me, I know too well You cannot love me now, nor would I rob This Virgin of your faith, since you have pleas'd To throw me from your love: I doe not aske One smile, nor one poore kisse, enrich this maide Created for those blessings: but agen, I would beseech you, cherish your owne life, Though I be lost forever. Alon. It is worth Your care my Lord, if there be any danger. Pis. Alas her griefe hath made her wilde poore Ladie: J should not love Oriana to goe backe, Set forward, Amidea, you may live To be a happier Bride: Sciarrha is not So irreligious to prophane these rites. Am. Will you not then beleeve me? pray perswade him, You are his friends. Lady, it will concerne You most of all indeede: feare youle weepe To see him dead as well as J. Pis. No more, Goe forward. Am. J have done, pray be not angry, That still J wish you well, may heaven divert All harmes that threaten you, full blessings crowne Your Marriage: J hope there is no sinne in this; Jndeed J cannot choose but pray for you, This might have beene my wedding-day. Ori. Good Heaven J would it were, my heart can tell, J take No joy in being his bride, none in your praiers, You shall have my consent to have him still: J will resigne my place, and waite on you, Jf you will marrie him. Am. Pray doe not mocke me, But if you doe, J can forgive you too. Ori. Deare Amidea, doe not thinke J mocke Your sorrow; by these teares that are not worne By every Virgin on her wedding day; J am compelld to give away my selfe: Your hearts were promisd, but he ne're had mine: Am not J wretched too? Am. Alas poore Maide, We two keepe sorrow alive then, but J prithee When thou art married, love him, prithee love him; For he esteemes thee well, and once a day Give him a kisse for me, but doe not tell him, Twas my desire, perhaps 'twill fetch a sigh From him, and I had rather breake my heart, But one word more, and heaven be with you all, Since you have led the way, I hope my Lord That I am free to marrie too. Pis.

Thou art.

Am. Let me beseech you then, to be so kinde After your owne solemnities are done, To grace my wedding, I shall bee married shortly. Pis

To whom?

Am. To one whom you haue all heard talke of, Your fathers knew him well: one, who will never Give cause I should suspect him to forsake mee, A constant lover, one whose lips though cold Distill chast kisses, though our bridall bed Be not adorn'd with roses, twill bee greene, We shall have Virgin Laurell Cipresse, Ewe, To make us garlands, though no Pi •… e do burne, Our nuptiall shall have torches, and our chamber Shall be cut out of marble, where weele sleepe Free from all care for ever: death my Lord I hope shall be my husband, now farewell▪ Although no kisse, accept my parting teare, And give me leave to weare my willow here. Exit. Enter Sciarrha, Lorenzo, aloofe with a guard. Al.

Sciarrha! then I prophesie—

Sci.

Pisano, wheres Pisano?

Pis. Here, Sciarrha. I should have answerd with lesse el •… mor. Sci. But I would not lose my voice, I must be heard, And does concerne you, I professe no Augu •… ie, I have not quarterd out the heavens▪ to take The flight of birds, nor by inspection Of entrailes made a divination. But I must tell you, tis not safe to marrie. Pis.

Why?

Sci. Twill be fatall, Hymen is gone abroad, And Venus, Lady of your nativitoe, Is found by wise Astrologers this day I'th house of death. Pis.

This must not fright me sir, set forward.

Sci. One cold word you are a villaine, I doe not flatter. Pis. I am patient: This day I consecrate to love, not anger; Weele meet some other time. Sci. Deride my furie? Then to thy heart I send my owne revenge Stabs him with a ponyard. And Amideas. Pis.

I am murderd.

Mor.

Help, murder gentlemen, oh my unhappines!

Enter Lorenzo with a gaurd. Pis.

Bloody Sciarrha.

Lo.

Hold.

Sci. Come all at once, Yet let me tell you, my revenge is perfect, And I would spare your blood, if you despise My charitie— Lo. No man attempt his death, Ile give yea reasons, this attempt deserves An exemplarie justice. Sci. I am above Your politicke reach, and glory in the wound That punish'd our dishonor: is he dead? I would not be so miserable, not to ha sped him For the Empire. Enter Cosmo. Cos.

Oh my friend, poore Oriana.

Lo. Disarme him: Returne and comfort one another, some Exeunt all but Lorenzo, Sciar. & guard. Remoue Pisanos bodie, while I make it My care Sciarrha scape not. Sci.

None of all give mee a scrach?

You have forc'd him with descretion.

Sci.

Now what must I expect?

Lo.

You are my prisoner.

Sci.

J am so.

Lo.

And be confident to finde that favour.

Sci.

Favor.

Lo. Be at distance, more My Lord, J am sorrie for your great misfortune And if you can but studie how I may Assist you, you shall soone descerne my love My readinesse to serve you. Sci.

Ha, this honest?

Lo. I would deserue your faith, A freind but in affliction justifie His heart and honor, I durst run some hazard, Might I secure your fate, name something to me That may declare my friendship. Sci. Be still safe, And teach the world repentance, for mistaking thee I pittie not my selfe, but envy thy Heroick honors. Lo. I will impose no more Restraint, then your owne house, you'r honorable: You have many severe enemies, the Duke Look'd gratiously upon Pisano, but—. Sci. You shanot loose the smallest beame of favor, To buy a man so desperate, I never Thought death the monster, that weake men have fanci'd, As foile to make us more in love with life, The Divels picture may affright poore foules Into their bodies palenesse, but the substance Too resolute: man's a shadow, and cold sweat Dare not approach his forehead, I am arm'd To die, and give example of that fortitude Shall shame the Lawes severitie: my sister May now give backe Pisano his false vowes, To line his coffin, one teare shed on mee's Enough, the justice I ha done, shall make My memorie belov'd. Lo. I ha thought a way. To recover you, if you incline too't, Dare you consent? Sci. To any thing that's noble, Although I never fear'd to suffer; I Am not so foolish to despise a life. Lo. There is no difficultie attends it, listen▪ The time will not permit much circumstance: The Duke you know did love your sister. Sci.

Vitiously.

Lo. Her Vertue did but coole him for the present, As sprinklings on a flame, hee's now more passionate▪ To enjoy her. Sci.

Ha?

Lo. If shee consent to meete His soft embrace, with his first kisse, he seales Your pardon, then the act upon Pisano Appeares a true revenge, when none dares question it: Beside addition of state and fortune, To you and Amidea, waigh your danger, And what a trifle shee gives up, to save Your life, that never can be valued, Lesse recompenc'd; the Duke may be so taken With her returne to his delight, who knowes But he may marrie her, and discharge his Dutchesse With a quaint sallet, you doe apprehend mee. Sci. And repent more, I had one good thought of thee, Then I had kild a thousand: save my life And prostitute my sister, though I have No weapon, I will looke thee dead, or breath A dampe shall stifle thee, that I could vomit Consuming flames, or stones like Aetna, make The earth with motion of my feet shrinke lower, And take thee in alive, oh that my voice Could call a Serpent from corrupted Nile, To make thee part of her accursed bowels, Is this noble freindship? readinesse To save my life? let malice reade all stories Famous for crueltie, awake dead Tyrants, Or be instructed by their ghosts with tortures, Such as will make a damned furie weepe Onely to see inflicted, I would beare'em, And wearie my tormentors, ere consent In thought to thy temptation. Lo. I ha done, And praise your heathen resolution Of death, goe practice immortalitie, And tell us when you can get leave to visit This world agen, what fine things you enjoy In hell, for thither these rash passions drive thee, And ere thy body hath three daies inhabited, A melancholly chamber in the earth, Hung round about with skuls and dead mens bones, Ere Amidea have told all her teares Upon thy Marble, or the Epitaph Belie thy soule, by saying it is fled To Heaven: this Sister shall be ravish'd, Mauger thy dust and Heraldry. Sci▪ Ha, ravish'd? When I am d •… ad, was't not so? oh my soule, I feele it weepe within me, aud the teares Soften my flesh: Lorenzo, I repent my furie. Lo.

I advis'd you the best way my wisedome could direct.

Sci. I thanke you for't, You have awak'd my reason, I am asham'd I was no sooner sensible: does the Duke Affect my Sister still say you? Lo.

Most passionately.

Sci. She shall obey him then, upon my life: Thats it, my life; I know she loves me dearely. I shall have much adoe to winne her too't, But she shall come, Ile send her. Lo.

Performe this?

Sci. I wonot onely send her, but prepar'd Not to be disobedient to his Highnesse: He shall command her any thing. Lo. Doe this, And be for ever happie, when these have Onely for forme but waited on you home: This disingages'em. Sci. My humblest service To the Duke I pray, and tell him, Amidea This night shall be at his dispose, by this. Lo.

I'me confident, farewell; attend Sciarrha.

Sci. Pittie the Sea-man, that to avoide a shelfe, Must strike upon a rocke to save himselfe. Exeunt.

ACTVS QVINTVS. Enter Sciarrha and Amidea. Sci. THe doores are fast, Enough is wept alreadie for Pisano: Theres something else that must be thought on, and Of greater consequence: I am yet unsafe, That for thy sake am guiltie of his blood. Am. Though all my stocke of teares were spent alreadie Upon Pisanoes losse, and that my braine Were banquerout of moisture, and deni'd To lend my griefe one drop more for his Funerall; Yet the remembrance that you have made A forfeit of your deare life Is able to create a weeping spring Within my barren head: oh my lost brother, Thou hast a cruell destinie, my eies In pittie of thy fate desire to drowne thee. The Law will onely seeke thee upon land, Hid in my teares, thou shalt prevent the stroake Kills both our name and thee. Sci. I know thou lov'st me Poore Girle. I shall desire to cherrish life Jf thou lament me thus: so rich a comfort Will tempt me, wish I might delay my journie To Heaven. Am.

Good Heaven that we might goe together.

Sci.

That must not be.

Am.

Then let me goe before.

Sci.

How?

Am. Make my suite unto the Prince, my blood May be your ransome; let me die, Sciarrha My life is fruitlesse unto all the world, The Duke in justice will not denie this: And though I weepe in telling thee, I shall Smile on the Scaffold. Sci. How my Honour blushes To heare thee Amidea? in this love Thou woundst me more, then thou desir'st to save: Suffer for me? why thou art innocent: I have provok'd the punishment, and dare Obey it manly; if thou couldst redeeme me With any thing but death, I thinke I should Consent to live, but I'de not have thee venture All at one chance. Am. Nothing can be too precious To save a brother, such a loving brother As you have beene. Sci. Death's a devouring gamester, And sweepes up all: what thinkst thou of an eye? Couldst thou spare one, and thinke the blemish r •… cōpenc'd, To see me safe with tother; or a hand, This white hand, that hath so often With admiration trembled on the Lu •… e, Till we have prayd thee leave the strings awhile, A •… d laid our eares close to thy Ivorie fingers, Suspecting all the Harmonie proceeded From their owne motion, without the neede Of any dull or passive instrument. No Amidea, shalt not beare one scarre To buy my life: the sickle shall not touch A flower that growes so faire upon his stalke: Thy tother hand will misse a white companion, And wither on thy arme; what then can I Expect from thee to save me? I would live And owe my life to thee, so 'twere not bought Too deere. Am. Doe you beleeve I should not finde The way to Heaven: were both mine eyes thy ransome, I shall clime up those high and rugged 〈◊〉 Without a hand. Sci. One way there is▪ if thou Doest love wit •… that tendernesse. Am. Pronounce it, And let no danger that attends, incline you To make a pause. Sci.

The Duke thou knowst did love thee.

Am.

Hi?

Sci. Nay doe not start alreadie, nor mistake me; I doe not as before, make tria •… l of thee, Whether thou canst, laying aside thy honour, Meete his lascivious armes but by this vertue I must beseech thee to for goe it all, And turne a sinfull woman. Am.

Blesse me!

Sci. I know the kingdomes of the world containe not Riches enough to tempt thee to a fall That will so much undoe thee: but I am Thy brother, dying brother; if thou lov'st Him therefore, that for thee hath done so much; Died his pale hands in blood to revenge thee, And in that murder wounded his owne soule Almost to death, consent to loose thy innocence▪ I know it makes thee grieve, but I shall live To love thee better for it: wee 〈◊〉 repent Together for ou •… sinnes, and pray and weepe Till Heaven hath pardon'd all. Am.

Oh never, never.

Sci. Doe but repeat thy words, to save my life, And t •… at will teach com •… assion: my 〈◊〉 , Our shame, the staine of all our familie, Which wi •… l succeede in my ignoble death▪ Thou washest off. Am.

But staine my selfe for ever.

Sci. Where? in thy •… ace, who shall behold one blemish, Or one •… ot more in thy whole frame, thy beautie Will be the very same, thy speech, thy person Weare no deformitie. Am. Oh doe not speake So like a rebell to all modestie, To all Religion, if these arguments Spring from your jealousie that I am falne, After a proofe you did so late applaude. Sci. I had not killd Pis •… no then: I am now More spotted then the Marble, then my head Did owe no forfeiture to Law: It does ake now, then I but tried thy vertue. Now my condition calls for mercy to thee, Though to thy selfe thou appeare cruell for't: Come we may live both if you please. Am. I must never Buy my poore breath at such a rate, who has Made you afraide to die: I pittie you, And wish my selfe in any noble cause Your Leader, when our soules shall leave this dwelling, The glory of one faire, and vertuous action Is above all the scutcheons on our •… ombe, Or silken bann •… rs over us. Sci. So valiant, J will not interpose another sillable To entreate your pittie say your prayers, and then Thar't ripe to be translated from the earth, To make a Cherubine. Am.

What meanes my brother?

Sci.

To kil you.

Am.

Doe not fright me good Sciarrha.

Sci.

And I allow three minutes for your devotion.

Am.

Will you murder mee?

Sci.

D'ee tremble?

Am. Not at the terror of your sword, But at the horror will affright thy soule, For this blacke deed: J see Pisanos blood Is texted in thy forehead, and thy hands Retaine too many, too many crimson spots already Make not thy selfe, by •… urthering of thy •… ister All a red letter, Sci.

You shall be the martir.

Am. Yetstay, is there no remedie but death, And from your hand? then keepe your word, & let me Use one short prayer. Sci.

J shall relent▪

Am. Forgive me heaven, and, witn •… sse J have •… till K •… eels. My Virgin thoughts, tis not to •… ave my life, But his eternall one. Sciarrha give me leave to vaile my face, Rises. J dare not looke uppon you and pronounce, J am too much a sister, live, hereafter I know you will condemne my frailty for it. I will obey the Duke. Sci.

Darst thou consent.

Wounds her. Am. Oh let me see the wound She unvails. Tis well, if any other hand had done it: Some Angell tell my brother now, I did But seeme consenting. Sci.

Ha b •… t seeme?

Am.

You may beleeve my last breath.

Sci.

Why didst say so?

Am. To gaine some time, in hope you might call in Your bloody purpose, and prevent the guilt Of being my murderer; but Heaven forgive thee. Sci. Agen, agen, forgive me Amidea, And pray for me, live but a little longer, To heare me speake, my passion hath betraid Thee to this wound, for which I know not whether I should rejoyce, or weepe, since thou art vertuous: The Duke, whose soule is blacke agen, expects thee To be his whoore: good Death be not so hastie. The Agent for his lust, Lorenzo, has My Oath to send thee to his bed: for otherwise In my deniall, hell; and they decree When I am dead, to ravish thee: marke that, To ravish thee: and I confesse in teares, As full of sorrow, as thy soule of innocence, In my religious care to haue thee spotlesse, I did resolve, when I had found thee ripe, And nearest Heaven, with all thy best desires To send thee to thy peace: thy faind consent Hath brought thy happinesse more earelie to thee, And sav'd some guilt, forgive me altogether. Am. With the same heart I beg Heaven for my selfe, Farewell. Sci.

Thou shalt not die yet Amidea Sister.

Florio knockes. I cannot come: But one word more: oh which way went thy soule? Or is it gone so farre it cannot heare me? Florio breakes ope the doore. Flo. Looke, here's our Sister! so, so, chafe her: She may returne; there is some motion. Flo.

Sister?

Sci. Speake aloud Florio, if her spirit be not Departed, I will seale this passage up: I feele her breath agen, heres Florio Would faine take his leave; so, so, she comes. Flo.

Amidea, how came this wound?

Am. I drew the weapon to it: Heaven knowes my brother lov'd me: now I hope The Duke wo'not persue me with new flames. Sciarrha, tell the rest, love one another The time you live together: Ile pray for you In Heaven, farewell, kisse me when I am dead; You else will stay my journie. She dyes. Sci. Didst not heare An Angell call her? Florio, I have much To tell thee, take her up; stay I will talke A little more with her, she is not dead, Let her alone; nay then shee's gone indeede. But hereabouts her soule must hover still: Lets speake to that, faire Spirit. Flo.

You talke idly.

Sci. Doe you talke wisely then? an excellent patterne As she now stands for her owne Alablaster: Or may she not be kept from putrifaction, And be the very figure on her Tombe: Cannot thy teares and mine preserve her Florio? If we want brine, a thousand Virgins shall Weepe every day upon her, and themselves In Winter, leaning round about her Monument, Being moist creatures, stiffen with the cold, And freeze into so many white supporters. But we loose time, I charge thee by thy lo To this pale Relique, be instructed by me, Not to thy danger; some revenge must be, And I am lost alreadie; if thou fall, Who shall survive to give us Funerall? Exeunt. Enter Lorenzo and Petruchio. Lo.

Petruchio?

Pe.

My Lord.

Lo.

Th'art now my servant.

Pe.

I ever was in heart your humblest vass •… ll.

Lo. Th'art faithfull, I must cherish thy desert, I shortly shall reward it, very shortly; Next morning must salute me Duke; the Sunne And I must rise together. Pe. I shall pray Your glory may out-shine him in your Florence, Apd when he sets, we may enjoy your Sun-beame. Lo.

Tis hansome flattery, and becomes a Courtier▪

Pe.

J flatter not my Lord.

Lo. Then th'art a foole: No Musicke to a Great man chimes so sweetly: And men must thrive, come hither, how many Hast thou killd? Pe.

But one my Lord.

Lo.

But one?

Pe. And J must owe My life to your Lordship, I had beene hang'd else. Lo. But one? waite at the doore, he is Not fit to kill a Duke, whose hand is guiltie But of a single murder; or at least Not fit alone to act it: J ha beene Practis'd already, and though no man see't, Nor scarse the eye of Heaven, yet every day I kill a Prince, appeare thou Tragicke witnesse. Hee discovers the Dukes Picture, a Ponyard sticking in it. Which though it bleed not, I may boast a Murder: Here first the Duke was painted to the life: But with this Pencill to the death: I love My braine for the invention, and thus Confirm'd, dare trust my resolution. I did suspect his youth, and beautie might Winne some compassion when J came to kill him: Or the remembrance that he is my Kinsman, Might thrill my blood: or something in his Title, Might give my hand repulse, and startle Nature: But thus J have arm'd my selfe against all pittie, That when J come to strike, my Ponyard may Through all his charmes as confidently wound him, As thus J stab his Picture, and stare on it. Me thinkes the Duke should feele me now: is not His soule acquainted; can he lesse then tremble When J lift up my arme to wound his counterfeit? Witches can persecute the lives of whom They hate, when they torment their sencelesse figures, And sticke the waxen modell full of pinnes. Can any stroke of mine carrie lesse spell To wound his heart, sent with as great a malice? He smiles, he smiles upon me: J will digge Thy wanton eyes out, and supply the darke And hollow Cells with two pitch burning Tapers: Then place thee Porter in some Charnell house To light the Coffins in. Enter Petruchio. Pet.

My Lord.

Lor.

The Duke's not come alreadie.

Pet.

Signior Florio desires to speake with you.

Lor. This must retire agen into my Closet: admit him. Enter Florio. Welcome, how does Sciarrha? Flo. He commends His service to your Lordship, and hath sent— Lor.

His Sister?

Flo. Much adoe he had to effect it: He hopes his Grace will quickly signe his pardon. Lor.

It shall be done.

Flo.

I have a suite my Lord.

Lor.

To me?

Flo. My Sister would intreate your Honour She may be admitted privately▪ and that I may have priviledge to prepare her chamber: She does retaine some modestie, and wo'd not▪ Trust every servant with her shame: their eies Are apt to instruct their tongues. Lor.

I wonot see her my selfe, command what you desire.

Flo.

Y'are gracious.

Lor. Ile give directions instantly: poore Ladie, This is the Dukes hot blood, but Heaven convert him, Follow me good Florio. Flo.

I attend my Lord.

Lor.

Things shall be carried honourably.

Flo.

We are all bound to you.

Exeunt. Recorders. Amidea discoverd in a Bed, prepar'd by two Gentlewomen. 1

This is a sad imploiment.

The last wee're shall doe my Ladie.

Enter Florio. Flo. So, now you may returne, it will become Your modest duties, not to enquire the reason Of this strange service, nor to publish what Y'ave bin commanded; let mee looke upon Ex. gentlewomen. My sister now, still she retaines her beautie, Death has beene kinde to leave her all this sweetnesse. Thus in a morning have I oft saluted My sister in her chamber, sate upon Her bed, and talkt of many harmelesse passages, But now tis night, and a long night with her, Ineere shall see these Curtaines drawne agen Untill wee meet in heaven. The Duke already. Enter Duke and Lorenzo. Du.

May I beleeve?

Lo.

Trust me my Lord 〈◊〉 .

Du. Call mee no more thy Lord, but thy companion I will not weare that honor in my title, Shall not be thine. Whoe's that? Lo.

Her brother Florio.

Du.

She is a bed.

Lor. The readier for your pastime. She meanes no make a night on't. Flo. This shall declare thee to posteritie The best of Sisters—what of that? and is not A brothers life more precious then a trifle? I prithee doe not sigh: how many Ladies Would be ambitious of thy place to night? And thanke his Highnesse? yes, and Virgins too. Du.

He pleades for me.

Lo.

He will deserve some office 'bout your person.

Du.

With what words shall I expresse my joy?

Lo. I leave you sir to action, Florio Is soone dismist. Exit. Flo.

Hee's come: good-night—

Du.

Florio?

Flo.

Your Slave.

Du.

My friend! thou shal •… be neere our bosome.

Flo.

Pleasures crowne your expectation.

Exit. Du. All perfect, till this minute, I could never Boast I was happie: all this world has not A blessing to exchange, this world? tis Heaven; And thus I take possession of my Saint: Asleepe already? 'twere great pitty to Disturbe her dreame, yet if her soule be not Tir'd with the bodies weight, it must convey Into her slumbers I waite here, and thus Seale my devotion—what winter dwels Kisses. Upon this lip? twa's no warme kisse, Ile try Agen—the snow is not so cold, I have Drunke ice, and feele a numbnesse spred through My blood at once—ha? let me examine A little better; Amidea, she is dead, shee is dead! What horror doth inuade me? helpe Lorenzo; Murder, where is Lorenzo? Enter Lorenzo and Petruchio. Lo.

Heere my Lord.

Du. Some Traitor hid within the chamber, see My Amidea's dead. Lo. Dead? tis impossible, Y •… , sh'as a wound upon her breast. Du. I prethee kill mee: They wound him. Ha wilt thou murder mee, Lorenzo, villaine? Oh spare me to consider, I would live A little longer: Treason. Lo. A little longer say •… ee It was my duty to obey you sir. Pet.

Lets make him sure my Lord.

Lo. What would you say? no cares but ours Can reach his voice, but be not tedious. Du. Oh spare mee, I may live and pardon thee: Thy Prince begs mercy from thee, that did never Deny thee any thing; pittie my poore so •… le, I have not prayed. Lo. I could have wish'd you better Prepard, but let your soule e'entake his chance. Wounds him agen. Du. No teare prevaile? oh whither must wander Thus Caesar fell by Brutus. I shall tell Newes to the world I goe to, will not bee Beleevd, Lorenzo kild me. Lo. Will it not? Ile presently put in security. Du. I am comming Amidea, I am comming For thee inhumane murderer, expect My blood shall flie to heaven, and there inflam'd, Hang a prodigious meteor all thy life. And when by some as bloody hand as thine Thy soule is ebbing forth, it shall descend In flaming drops upon thee: oh I faint! Thou flattering world farewell: let Princes gather My dust into a glasse, and learne to spend Their hower of state, that's all they have; for when Thats out, times never turnes the glasse agen. Dies. Lo. So lay him beside his mistresse, hide their faces, The Duke dismist the traine came with him. Pe.

He did my Lord.

Lo. Run to Sciarrha, pray him come, and speake wo'mee, Secure his passage to this Chamber, haste, Exit Pet. Hee's dead; Ile trust him now, and his ghost too; Fools start at shadowes, I'me in love with night And her complexion. Enter Petr. Pe.

My Lord, hee's come without your summons.

Lo.

Already? leave us.

Enter Sciarrha, and Florio. Welcome, let embraces Chaine us together, noble Florio welcome: But I must honor thy great soule. Sci.

Wheres the Duke?

Lo.

They are a bed together.

Sci.

Ha?

Lo. Hee's not stirring yet: Thou kildst thy sister, didst not? Sci.

I preserv'd her.

Lo.

So it was bravely done.

Sci.

But wheres the wanton Duke?

Lo.

A sleepe I tell you.

Sci.

And hee shall sleepe eternally.

Lor.

You cannot wake him, looke you.

Sci.

Is he dead?

Lo. And in his death we two begin our life Of gr •… tnesse, and of Empire, nay hee's dead. Sci.

That labour's sav'd.

Lo. Now I pronounce Sciarrha, Thy pardon, and to recompence thy losse, The share of Florence, Ile but weare the title, The power weele devide. Sci. I like this well: You told a tale once of a common wealth And libertie. Lo. It was to gaine a faction With discontented persons, a fine tricke To make a buzze of reformation. My ends are compas'd: hang the ribble rabble. Sci. Shall wee sweat for the people? loose our breath To get their fame? Lo. Ile have it given out The Duke did kill thy sister. Sci.

Excellent.

Lo. Havingfirst ravish'd her, he cannot bee Too hatefull; it will dull the examination Of his owne death, or if that come to question— Sci. What if I say, I kild him in revenge Of Amidea? they will pittie mee. Beside, 'twil be in your power to pardon Mee altogether. Lo.

Most descreetely thought on.

Sci.

The Divell wonot leave us o'the suddaine.

Lo. Rare wit: How hastily hee climbs the the precipice, From whence one Fillup topples him to ruine: Wee two shall live like brothers. Sci. stay wee two—now I consider better, I have no minde to live at all—& you shanot, Ile give you proofe, if you but make a noise, You gallop to the Divell. Lo.

I'me betraid.

Sci. To death inevitable, brother be you Spectator onely. Lo.

This is somewhat noble.

Sci. Thanke mee not Lorenzo, Ile not engage His innocence to blood, thy hands are white, Preserve e'm Florio, and unlesse my arm •… Grow feeble, doe not interpose thy sword I charǵe thee. Lo.

None to assist mee? helpe Petruchio, helpe.

They fight, Enter Petruchio, who offering to runne at Sciarrha, is intercepted by Florio, Petruchio, runs in crying helpe, Florio makes fast the doore. Lo. Reach thy jawes wider villaine, cry out murder, Treason, any thing; hold—oh. Lo. fals. Sci

Will you not fall Colosus?

Flo.

Are not you hurt?

Sci. I know not. Ha? yes he has prick'd me somewhere But Ile make sure of him; now must I follow: Ile fight with him i'th tother world—thy hand, Florio. Farewell. Dies. Flo. Hees dead too: tis in vaine for me to fly Within Breake open the dores▪ Flo.

You shanot neede.

Enter Petruchio, Cos •… o, Allonso, Frederico, with guard. Al.

Disarme him.

Cos.

Lorenzo, and Sciarrha slaine?

Al.

Where is the Duke?

Pet.

Looke heere my Lords.

Al.

What Traitor?

Fre.

See Amidea murderd too.

Cos.

I tremble, heere is a heape of Tragedies.

Al.

Wee must have an account from Florio.

Flo.

He can informe you best that brought you hither.

Al.

Lay hands upon Petruchio, disarme him.

Cos.

What blood is that upon his sword? tis fresh.

Pet.

I'me caught.

Cos.

To tortures with him.

Pet. Spare your furie▪ know Twas the best blood in Florence, I must quit Young Florio; Lorenzo, and my selfe, Are onely guilty of the princes death. Al.

Inhumane traitors?

Co.

But who kild Amidea?

Flo. The Dukes lust: There was no other way to save her honor, My brother has revengd it heere, but fate, Denyde him triumph. Al. I never heard Such killing stories, but tis meet, wee first Settle the state, Cos •… o you are the next Of blood to challenge Florence. Cos. Pray deferre That till the morning, drag that murderer To prison: Florio, you must not expect Your liberty, til all things be exam'nd. Lorenzo, now I am above thy malice, And will make satisfaction to Oriana. Tis a sad night my Lords, by these you see There is no stay in proud mortality. Exeunt.

FINIS.