The white diuel, or, The tragedy of Paulo Giordano Vrsini, Duke of Brachiano with the life and death of Vittoria Corombona the famous Venetian curtizan. Acted by the Queenes Maiesties Seruants. Written by Iohn Webster.

The white diuel, or, The tragedy of Paulo Giordano Vrsini, Duke of Brachiano with the life and death of Vittoria Corombona the famous Venetian curtizan. Acted by the Queenes Maiesties Seruants. Written by Iohn Webster.

Table of contents

Title page

To the Reader.

THE TRAGEDY OF PAVLO GIORDANO Vrsini Duke of Brachiano, and Vittoria Corombona.

§

[Page]

THE TRAGEDY OF PAVLO GIORDANO Vrsini Duke of Brachiano, and Vittoria Corombona.

Enter Count Lodouico, Antonelli and Gasparo.

LODOVICO.

BAnisht?

ANTO.

It greeu'd me much to heare the sentence.

LODO.

Ha, Ha, ô Democritus thy Gods

That gouerne the whole world! Courtly reward, and punishment. Fortun's a right whore.

If she giue ought, she deales it in smal percels,

That she may take away all at one swope.

This tis to haue great enemies, God quite them:

Your woolfe no longer seemes to be a woolfe

Then when shees hungry.

GAS.

You terme those enemies

Are men of Princely ranke.

LOD.

Oh I pray for them.

The violent thunder is adored by those

Are pasht in peeces by it.

ANTO.

Come my Lord,

You are iustly dom'd, looke but a little backe

Into your former life: you haue in three yeares

Ruin'd the noblest Earldome

GAS.

Your followers

Haue swallowed you like Mummia, and being sicke

With such vnnaturall and horrid Phisicke

Vomit you vp ith kennell

ANTO.

All the damnable degrees

[Page] Of drinkings haue you, you staggerd through one Cittizen.

Is Lord of two faire Manors, cald you master

Only for Cauiare.

GAS.

Those noblemen

Which were inuited to your prodigall feastes,

Wherin the Phaenix scarce could scape your throtes,

Laugh at your misery, as fore-deeminge you:

An idle Meteor which drawne forth the earth

Would bee soone lost ith aire.

ANTO.

Ieast vpon you,

And say you were begotten in an Earthquake,

You haue ruin'd such faire Lordships.

LODO.

Very good,

This Well goes with two buckets, I must tend

The powring out of eather.

GAS.

Worse then these,

You haue acted, certaine Murders here in Rome,

Bloody and full of horror.

LOD.

Las they were flea-bytinges?

Why tooke they not my head then?

GAS.

O my Lord

The law doth somtimes mediate, thinkes it good

Not euer to steepe violent sinnes in blood,

This gentle pennance may both end your crimes,

And in the example better these bad times.

LOD.

So, but I wonder then some great men [...]

This banishment, ther's Paulo Giordano Or [...],

The Duke of Brachiano, now liues in Rome,

And by close pandarisme seekes to prostitute

The honour of Uittoria Corombona,

Vittoria, she that might haue got my pardon

For one kisse to the Duke.

ANTO.

Haue a full man within you,

Wee see that Trees beare no such pleasant fruite

There where they grew first, as where the are new set.

Perfumes the more they are chaf'd the more they render

Their pleasing sents, and so affliction

Expresseth vertue, fully, whether trew,

Or ells adulterate.

LOD.

Leaue your painted comforts,

Ile make Italian cut-works in their guts

If euer I returne.

GASP.

O Sir.

LODO.

I am patient,

I haue seene some ready to be executed

Giue pleasant lookes, and money, and growne familiar

With the knaue hangman, so do I, I thanke them,

[Page] And would account them nobly mercifull

Would they dispatch me quicklie,

ANTO.

Fare you well,

Wee shall find time I doubt not to repeale

Your banishment.

LOD.

I am euer bound to you:

Enter

This is the worlds almes; pray make vse of it,

Senate

Great men sell sheep, thus to be cut in peeces,

When first they haue shorne them bare and sold their sleeces.

Exeunt.

Enter Brachiano, Camillo, Flamineo, Uittoria Corombona.

BRA.

Your best of rest.

VIT.

Vnto my Lord the Duke,

The best of well come, More lights, attend the Duke.

BRA.

Flamineo.

FLA.

My Lord.

BRA.

Quite lost Flamineo.

FLA.

Pursew your noble wishes, I am prompt

As lightning to your seruice, ô my Lord!

The faire Vittoria, my happy sister

Shall giue you present audience, gentlemen

(whisper

Let the caroach go on, and tis his pleasure

You put out all your torches and depart.

BRA.

Are wee so happy.

FLA.

Can't be otherwise?

Obseru'd you not to night my honor'd Lord

Which way so ere you went shee threw her eyes,

I haue dealt already with her chamber-maid

Zanche the More, and she is wondrous proud

To be the agent for so high a spirit.

BRA.

Wee are happie aboue thought, because boue merrit.

FLA.

'boue merrit! wee may now talke freely: 'boue merrit; what ist you doubt, her coynesse, thats but the superficies of lust most women haue; yet why should Ladyes blush to heare that nam'd, which they do not feare to handle? O they are polliticke, They know our desire is increas'd by the difficultie of inioying; where a satiety is a blunt, weary and drowsie passion, if the buttery hatch at Court stood continually open their would be nothing so passionat crouding, nor hot suit after the beuerage,

BRA.

O but her iealous husband.

FLA.

Hang him, a guilder that hath his braynes perisht with [Page] quicke-siluer is not more could in the liuer. The great Barriers moulted not more feathers then he hath shed haires, by the confession of his doctor. An Irish gamster that will play himselfe naked, and then wage all downeward, at [...]ard, is not more venterous. So vn-able to please a woman that like a dutch doublet all his backe is shrunke into his breeches.

Shrowd you within this closet, good my Lord,

Some tricke now must be thought on to deui [...]e

My brother in law from his faire bed-fellow,

BRA.

O should she faile to come,

FLA.

I must not haue your Lordship thus vnwisely amorous,

I my selfe haue loued a lady and peursued her with a great deale of vnder-age protestation, whom some 3. or 4. gallants that haue enioyed would with all their harts haue bin glad to haue bin rid of Tis iust like a summer bird-cage in a garden, the birds that are without, despaire to get in, and the birds that are within despaire and are in a consumption for feare they shall neuer get out: away away my Lord,

Enter Camillo,

See here he comes, this fellow by his apparell

Some men would iudge a pollititian,

But call his wit in question you shall find it

Merely an Asse in's foot cloath,

How now brother what trauailing to bed to your kind wise?

CAM.

I assure you brother no, My voyage lyes

More northerlie, in a farre colder clime,

I do not well remember I protest when I last lay with her.

FLA.

Strange you should loose your Count.

CAM.

Wee neuer lay together but eare morning

Their grew a flaw betweene vs.

FLA.

T'had byn your part

To haue made vp that flaw.

CAM.

Trew, but shee loathes I should be seene in't.

FLA.

Why Sir, what's the matter?

CAM.

The Duke your maister visits me I thanke him,

And I perceaue how like an earnest bowler

Hee very passionatelie leanes that way,

He should haue his boule runne

FLA.

I hope you do not thinke

[Page]CAM.

That noble men boule bootie, Faith his cheeke

Hath a most excellent Bias, it would faine iumpe with my mistris.

FLA.

Will you be an asse.

Despight you Aristotle or a Cocould

Contrary to your Ephemerides

Which shewes you vnder what a smiling planet

You were first swadled,

CAM:

Pew wew, Sir tell not me

Of planets nor of Ephemeridas

A man may be made Cocould in the day time

When the Stars eyes are out.

FLA.

Sir God boy you,

I do commit you to your pittifull pillow

Stuft with horne-shauings.

CAM.

Brother.

FLA.

God refuse me

Might I aduise you now your onlie course

Weare to locke vp your wife.

CAM.

T'weare very good.

FLA.

Bar her the sight of reuels.

CAM.

Excellent.

FLA.

Let her not go to Church, but like a hounde

In Leon atyour heeles.

CAM.

Tweare for her honour

FLA.

And so you should be certayne in one fortnight,

Despight her chastity or innocence

To bee Cocoulded, which yet is in suspence:

This is my counsell and I aske no see for't.

CAM.

Come you know not where my-night cap wringes mee.

FLA.

Weare it ath' old fashion, let your large eares come through, it will be more easy, nay I will be bitter, barre your wife of her entertaynment: women are more willinglie & more gloriouslie chast, when they are least restrayned of their libertie. It seemes you would be a fine Capricious Mathematically iealous Coxcombe, take the height of your owne hornes with a Iacobs staffe afore they are vp. These polliticke inclosures for paltry mutton, makes more rebellion in the flesh then all the prouocatiue electuaries Doctors haue vttered sence last Iubilee.

CAM.

This doth not phisicke me,

FLA:

It seemes you are Iealous, ile shew you the error of it by a familiar example, I haue seene a paire of spectacles fashiond with such perspectiue art, that lay downe but one twelue pence ath'bord twill appeare as if there were twenty, now should you [Page] weare a paire of these spectacles, and see your wife tying her shooe, you would Imagine twenty hands were taking vp of your wiues clothes, and this would put you into a horrible causlesse fury,

CAM.

The fault there Sir is not in the eye-sight

FLA.

True, but they that haue the yellow Iaundeise, thinke all obiects they looke on to bee yellow. Iealousy is worser, her fit's present to a man, like so many bubles in a Bason of water, twenty seuerall crabbed faces, many times makes his owne shadow his cocould-maker. * See she comes, what reason Enter Corom [...]. haue you to be iealous of this creature? what an ignorant asse or flattering knaue might he be counted, that should write sonnets to her eyes, or call her brow the snow of Ida, or Iuorie of Corinth, or compare her haire to the blacke birds bill, when 'tis liker the blacke birds feather. This is all: Be wise, I will make you freinds and you shall go to bed together, marry looke you, it shall not be your seeking, do you stand vpon that by any meanes, walk you a loofe, I would not haue you seene in't, sister my Lord attends you in the banquetting house, your husband is wondrous discontented.

VIT.

I did nothing to displease him, I carued to him at supper-time

FLA.

You need not haue carued him infaith, they say he is a capon already, I must now seemingly fall out with you. Shall a gentleman so well descended as Camillo.—a lousy slaue that within this twenty yeares rode with the blacke guard in the Dukes cariage mongst spits and dripping-pannes.

CAM.

Now he begins to tickle her.

FLA.

An excellent scholler, one that hath a head fild with calues braynes without any sage in them,—come crouching in the hams to you for a nights lodging—that hath an itch in's hams, which like the fier at the glasse house hath not gone out this seauen yeares—is hee not a courtly gentleman,—when he weares white sattin one would take him by his blacke mussel to be no other creature then a maggot, you are a goodly Foile, I confesse, well set out—but couerd with a false stone you conterfaite dyamond.

[Page]CAM.

He will make her know what is in mee.

FLA.

Come, my Lord attends you, thou shalt go to bed to my Lord.

CAM.

Now he comes to't.

FLA.

With a relish as curious as a vintner going to taste new wine, I am opening your case hard.

CAM.

A vertuous brother a my credit.

FLA.

He will giue thee a ringe with a philosophers stonein it.

CAM.

Indeede I am studying Alcumye.

FLA.

Thou shalt lye in a bed stuft with turtles feathers, swoone in perfumed lynnen like the fellow was smothered in roses, so perfect shall be thy happinesse, that as men at Sea thinke land and trees and shippes go that way they go, so both heauen and earth shall seeme to go your voyage. Shal't meete him, tis fixt, with nayles of dyamonds to ineuitable necessitie.

VITTO.

How shals rid him hence?

FLA.

I will put brees in's tayle, set him gadding presentlie, I haue almost wrought her to it, I find her comming, but might I aduise you now for this night I would not lye with her, I would crosse her humor to make her more humble.

CAMIL.

Shall I, shall I?

FLA:

It will shew in you a supremacie of Iudgement.

CAMIL.

Trew, and a mind differing from the tumultuary opinion, for quae negata grat.

FLA.

Right you are the Adamant shall draw her to you, though you keepe distance of:

CAMIL.

A philosophicall reason.

FLA.

Walke by her a'the noble mans fashion, and tell her you will lye with her at the end of the Progresse

CAMIL.

Vittoria, I cannot be induc'd, or as a man would say incited.

VITTO.

To do what Sir?

CAMIL.

To lye with you to night; your silkeworme vseth to fast euery third day, and the next following spinnes the better. Tomorrow at night I am for you.

VITTO.

Youle spinne a faire thread, trust to't.

FLA.

But do you heare I shall haue you steale to her chamber about midnight.

CAMIL.

Do you thinke so, why looke you brother, because [Page] you shall not thinke ile gull you, take the key, locke me into the chamber, and say you shall be sure of me.

FLA.

Introth I will, ile be your iaylor once,

But haue you nere a false dore.

CAM.

A pox on't, as I am a Christian tell mee to morrow how scuruelie shee takes my vnkind parting

FLA.

I will.

CAM.

Didst thou not make the ieast of the silke-worme? good night in faith I will vse this tricke often,

FLA.

Do, do, do.

Exit Camillo.

So now you are safe. Ha ha ha, thou intanglest thy selfe in thine owne worke like a silke-worme

Enter Brachiano.

Come sister, darkenesse hides your blush, women are like curst dogges, ciuilitie keepes them tyed all day time, but they are let loose at midnight, then they do most good or most mischeefe, my Lord, my Lord

BRA.

Giue credit: I could wish time would stand still

And neuer end this enteruew this hower,

Zāche brings out a Carpet Spreads it and layes on it two faire Cushions Enter Cornelia

But all delight doth it selfe soon'st dcuour.

Let me into your bosome happy Ladie,

Powre out in stead of eloquence my vowes,

Loose me not Madam, for if you forcgo me I am lost eternallie.

VIT.

Sir in the way of pittie I wish you hart-hole.

BRA.

You are a sweet Phisition.

VIT.

Sure Sir a loathed crueltie in Ladyes

Is as to Doctors many funeralls: It takes away their credit.

BRA.

Excellent Creature.

Wee call the cruell fayre, what name for you

That are so mercifull?

ZAN.

See now they close.

FLA.

Most happie vnion.

COR.

My feares are falne vpon me, oh my heart!

My sonne the pandar: now I find our house

Sinking to ruine. Earth-quakes leaue behind,

Where they haue tyrannised, iron, or lead, or stone,

But woe to ruine violent lust leaues none

BRA.

What valew is this Iewell

VIT.

Tis the ornament Of a weake fortune.

BRA.

In sooth ile haue it; nay I will but change

[Page] My Iewell for your Iewell.

FLAM.

Excellent,

His Iewell for her Iewell, well put in Duke.

BRAC.

Nay let me see you weare it.

VIT.

Heare sir.

BRAC.

Nay lower, you shall weare my Iewell lower.

FLAM.

That's better she must weare his Iewell lower.

VIT.

To passe away the time I'le tell your grace,

A dreame I had last night.

BRAC.

Most wishedly.

VIT.

A foolish idle dreame,

Me thought I walkt about the mid of night,

Into a Church-yard, where a goodly Eu Tree

Spred her large roote in ground, vnder that Eu,

As I sat sadly leaning on a graue,

Checkered with crosse-sticks, their came stealing in

Your Dutchesse and my husband, one of them

A picax bore, th'other a Rusty spade,

And in rough termes they gan to challenge me,

About this Eu.

BRAC.

That Tree.

VIT.

This harmelesse Eu:

They told me my entent was to root vp

That well-growne Eu, and plant i'th steed of it

A withered blacke-thorne, and for that they vow'd

To bury me aliue: my husband straight

With picax gan to dig, and your fell Dutchesse

With shouell, like a fury, voyded out

The earth & scattered bones, Lord how me thought

I trembled, and yet for all this terror

I could not pray.

FLAM.

No the diuell was in your dreame.

VIT.

When to my rescue there arose me thought

A whirlewind, which let fall a massy arme

From that strong plant,

And both were strucke dead by that sacred Eu

In that base shallow graue that was their due.

FLAM.

Excellent Diuell.

Shee hath taught him in a dreame

To make away his Dutchesse and her husband.

BRAC.

Sweetly shall I enterpret this your dreame,

You are lodged within his armes who shall protect you,

[Page] From all the feauers of a iealous husband,

From the poore enuy of our flegmaticke Dutchesse,

I'le seate you aboue law and aboue scandall,

Giue to your thoughts the inuention of delight

And the fruition, nor shall gouernment

Diuide me from you longer then a care

To keepe you great: you shall to me at once,

Be Dukedome, health, wife, children, friends and all.

COR.

Woe to light hearts they still forerun our fall.

FLAM.

What fury rais'd thee vp? away, away

Exit Zanche.

COR.

What make you heare my Lord this dead of night?

Neuer dropt meldew on a flower here, tell now.

FLAM.

I pray will you go to bed then,

Least you be blasted.

COR.

O that this faire garden,

Had all poysoned hearbes of Thessaly,

At first bene planted, made a nursery

For witch-craft; rather a buriall plot,

For both your Honours.

VIT.

Dearest mother heare me.

COR.

O thou dost make my brow bend to the earth,

Sooner then nature, see the curse of children

In life they keepe vs freqeuently in teares,

And in the cold graue leaues vs in pale feares.

BRAC.

Come, come, I will not heare you.

VIT.

Deere my Lord.

COR.

Where is thy Dutchesse now adulterous Duke?

Thou little dreamd'st this night shee is come to Rome.

FLAM.

How? come to Rome,

VIT.

The Dutchesse,

BRAC.

She had bene better,

COR.

The liues of Princes should like dyals moue,

Whose regular example is so strong,

They make the times by them go right or wrong.

FLAM.

So, haue you done?

COR.

Vnfortunate Camillo.

VIT.

I do protest if any chast deniall,

If any thing but bloud could haue alayed,

His long suite to me.

COR.

I will ioyne with thee,

To the most wofull end ere mother kneel'd,

[Page] If thou dishonour thus thy husbands bed,

Bee thy life short as are the funerall teares

In great mens.

BRAC.

Fye, fye, the womans mad.

COR.

Bee thy act Iudas-like betray in kissing,

Maiest thou be enuied during his short breath,

And pittied like a wretch after this death.

VIT.

O me accurst.

Exit Uictoria

FLAM.

Are you out of your wits, my Lord

Ile fetch her backe againe?

BRAC.

No I'le to bed.

Send Doctor Iulio to me presently,

Vncharitable woman thy rash tongue

Hath rais'd a fearefull and prodigious storme,

Bee thou the cause of all ensuing harme.

Exit Brachiano.

FLAM.

Now, you that stand so much vpon your honour,

Is this a fitting time a night thinke you,

To send a Duke home without ere a man:

I would faine know where lies the masse of wealth

Which you haue whoorded for my maintenance,

That I may beare my beard out of the leuell

Of my Lords Stirop.

COR.

What? because we are poore,

Shall we be vitious?

FLAM.

Pray what meanes haue you

To keepe me from the gallies, or the gallowes?

My father prou'd himselfe a Gentleman,

Sold al's land, and like a fortunate fellow,

Died ere the money was spent. You brought me vp,

At Padua I confesse, where I protest

For want of meanes, the Vniuersity iudge me,

I haue bene faine to heele my Tutors stockings

At least seuen yeares: Conspiring with a beard

Made me a Graduate, then to this Dukes seruice,

I visited the Court, whence I return'd:

More courteous, more letcherous by farre,

But not a suite the richer, and shall I,

Hauing a path so open and so free

To my preferment, still retaine your milke

In my pale forehead, no this face of mine

I'le arme and fortefie with lusty wine,

[Page] Gainst shame and blushing.

COR.

O that I ne're had borne thee,

FLAM.

So would I.

I would the common'st Courtezan in Rome,

Had bene my mother rather then thy selfe.

Nature is very pittfull to whoores

To giue them but few children, yet those children

Plurality of fathers, they are sure

They shall not want. Go, go,

Complaine vnto my great Lord Cardinall,

Yet may be he will iustifie the act.

Lycurgus wondred much men would prouide

Good stalions for their Mares, and yet would suffer

Their faire wiues to be barren,

COR.

Misery of miseries.

Exit Cornelia.

FLAM.

The Dutchesse come to Court, I like not that,

Wee are ingag'd to mischiefe and must on.

As Riuers to finde out the Ocean

Flow with crooke bendings beneath forced bankes,

Or as wee see to aspire some mountaines top,

The way ascends not straight, but Imitates

The suttle fouldings of a Winters snake,

So who knowes policy and her true aspect,

Shall finde her waies winding and indirect.

Exit.

Enter Francisco de Medicis, Cardinall Mountcelso, Marcello, Isabella, young Giouanni, with little Iaques the Moore.

FRAN.

Haue you not seene your husband since you ariued?

ISAB.

Not yet sir.

FRAN.

Surely he is wondrous kind,

If I had a such Doue-house as Camillo's

I would set fire on't, wer't but to destroy

The Pole-cats that haunt to't,—my sweet cossin.

GIO.

Lord vnkle you did promise mee a horse

And armour.

FRAN.

That I did my pretty cossin,

Marcello see it fitted.

MAR.

My Lord the Duke is here.

FRAN.

Sister away you must not yet bee seene.

ISAB.

I do beseech you intreate him mildely,

Let not your rough tongue

[Page] Set vs at louder variance, all my wrongs

Are freely pardoned, and I do not doubt

As men to try the precious Vnicornes horne

Make of the powder a preseruatiue Circle

And in it put a spider, so these armes

Shall charme his poyson, force it to obeying

And keepe him chast from an infected straying

FRAN.

I wish it may. Be gone.

Exit.

Enter Brachiano, and Flamineo.

Void the chamber,

You are welcome, will you sit, I pray my Lord

Bee you my Orator, my hearts too full,

I'le second you anon.

MONT.

E're I beginne

Let me entreat your grace forgo all passion

Which may be raised by my free discourse:

BRAC.

As silent as i'th Church you may proceed.

MONT.

It is a wonder to your noble friends,

That you haue as 'twere entred the world,

With a free Scepter in your able hand,

And haue to th'use of nature well applyed

High gifts of learning, should in your prime-age

Neglect your awfull throne, for the soft downe

Of an insatiate bed. oh my Lord,

The Drunkard after all his lauish cuppes,

Is dry, and then is sober, so at length,

When you awake from this lasciuious dreame,

Repentance then will follow; like the sting

Plac't in the Adders tayle: wretched are Princes

When fortune blasteth but a petty flower

Of their vnweldy crownes; or rauesheth

But one pearle from their Scepter: but alas!

When they to wilfull shipwrake loose good Fame

All Princely titles perish with their name.

BRAC.

You haue said my Lord,

MON.

Inough to giue you tast

How farre I am from flattering your greatnesse?

BRAC.

Now you that are his second, what say you?

Do not like yong hawkes fetch a course about

[Page] Your game flies faire and for you,

FRAN.

Do not feare it:

I'le answere you in your owne hawking phrase,

Some Eagles that should gaze vpon the Sunne

Seldome soare high, but take their lustfull ease,

Since they from dunghill birds their pery can ceaze,

You know Uittoria,

BRA.

Yes.

FRAN.

You shift your shirt there

When you retire from Tennis.

BRAC.

Happely.

FRAN.

Her husband is Lord of a poore fortune

Yet she wears cloth of Tissue,

BRAC.

What of this?

Will you vrge that my good Lord Cardinall

As part of her confession at next Shrift,

And know from whence it sailes.

FRAN.

She is your Strumpet,

BRAC.

Vnciuill sir ther's Hemlocke in thy breath

And that blacke slander, were she a whore of mine

All thy loud Cannons, and thy borrowed Switzers

Thy Gallies, nor thy sworne confederates,

Durst not supplant her.

FRAN.

Let's not talke on thunder,

Thou hast a wife, our sister, would I had giuen

Both her whitehands to death, bound and lockt fast

In her last winding sheere, when I gaue thee

But one.

BRAC.

Thou hadst giuen a soule to God then.

FRAN.

True,

Thy ghostly father with al's absolution,

Shall ne're do so by thee.

BRAC.

Spit thy poyson,

FRAN.

I shall not need, lust carries her sharpe whippe

At her owne girdle, looke to't for our anger

Is making thunder-bolts.

BRAC.

Thunder? in faith,

They are but crackers.

FRAN.

Wee'le end this with the Cannon.

BRAC.

Thou'lt get nought by it but iron in thy wounds,

And gunpowder in thy nostrels.

FRAN.

Better that

Then change perfumes for plaisters,

BRAC.

Pitty on thee,

'Twere good you'ld shew your slaues or men condemn'd

Your new plow'd fore-head defiance, and I'le meete thee,

Even in a thicket of thy ablest men.

MON.

My Lords, you shall not word it any further

Without a milder limit.

FRAN.

Willingly.

[Page]BRAC.

Haue you proclaimed a Triumph that you baite a

Lyon thus.

MON.

My Lord.

BRAC.

I am tame, I am tame sir.

FLAN.

We send, vnto the Duke for conference

Bout leauyes' gainst the Pyrates, my Lord Duke

Is not at home, we come our selfe in person,

Still my Lord Duke is busied, but we feare

When Tyber to each proling passenger

Discouers flockes of wild-duckes, then my Lord

'Bout moulting time, I meane wee shall be certaine

To finde you sure enough and speake with you.

BRAC.

Ha?

FLAN.

A meere tale of a tub, my wordes are idle,

But to expresse the Sonnet by naturall reason,

Enter Giouanni

When Stagges grow melancholike you'le finde the season

MON.

No more my Lord, heare comes a Champion,

Shall end the difference betweene you both,

Your sonne the Prince Giouanni, see my Lords

What hopes you store in him, this is a casket

For both your Crowns, & should be held like deere:

Now is he apt for knowledge, therefore know

It is a more direct and euen way

To traine to vertue those of Princely bloud,

By examples then by precepts: if by examples

Whom should he rather striue to imitate

Then his owne father: be his patterne then,

Leaue him a stocke of vertue that may last,

Should fortune rend his sailes, and split his mast.

BRA.

Your hand boy growing to souldier.

GIO.

Giue me a pike.

FRAN.

What practising your pike so yong, faire cous.

GIO.

Suppose me one of Homers frogges, my Lord,

Tossing my bul-rush thus, pray sir tell mee

Might not a child of good descretion

Be leader to an army:

FRAN.

Yes cousin a yong Prince

Of good descretion might.

GIO.

Say you so,

Indeed I haue heard 'tis fit a Generall

Should not endanger his owne person oft,

So that he make a noyse, when hee's a horsebacke

Like a danske drummer, ô 'tis excellent.

[Page] Hee need not fight, me thinkes his horse as well

Might lead an army for him; if I liue

I'le charge the French foe, in the very front

Of all my troupes, the formost man.

FRA.

What, what,

GIO.

And will not bid my Souldiers vp and follow

But bid them follow me.

BRAC.

Forward Lap-wing.

He flies with the shell on's head.

FRAN.

Pretty cousin,

GIO.

The first yeare vnkle that I go to warre,

All prisoners that I take I will set free

Without their ransome.

FRAN.

Ha, without thier ransome,

How then will you reward your souldiers

That tooke those prisoners for you.

GIO.

Thus my Lord,

I'le marry them to all the wealthy widowes

That fals that yeare.

FRAN.

Why then the next yeare following

You'le haue no men to go with you to warre.

GIO.

Why then I'le presse the women to the war,

And then the men will follow.

MON.

Witty Prince.

FRAN.

See a good habite makes a child a man,

Whereas a bad one makes a man a beast:

Come you and I are friends.

BRAC.

Most wishedly,

Like bones which broke in sunder and well set

Knit the more strongly.

FRAN.

Call Camillo hither

You haue receiued the rumor, how Count Lodowicke

Is turn'd a Pyrate.

BRAC.

Yes.

FRA.

We are now preparing,

Some shippes to fetch him in: behold your Dutchesse,

Exeunt Fr. Mon. Giou.

Wee now will leaue you and expect from you

Nothing but kind intreaty.

BRAC.

You haue charm'd mee.

You are in health we see.

ISA.

And aboue health

To see my Lord well,

BRAC.

So I wonder much,

What amorous whirlewind hurryed you to Rome

ISA.

Deuotion my Lord.

BRAC.

Deuotion?

Is your soule charg'd with any grieuous sinne

ISA.

'Tis burdened with too many, and I thinke

The oftner that we cast our reckonings vp,

Our sleepes will be the sounder.

BRAC.

Take your chamber?

ISA.

Nay my deere Lord I will not haue you angry,

Doth not my absence from you two moneths,

[Page] Merit one kisse?

BRAC.

I do not vse to kisse,

If that will dispossesse your iealousy,

I'le sweare it to you.

ISA.

O my loued Lord,

I do not come to chide; my iealousy,

I am to learne what that Italian meanes,

You are as welcome to these longing armes,

As I to you a Virgine.

BRAC.

O your breath,

Out vpon sweete meates, and continued Physicke.

The plague is in them.

ISA.

You haue oft for these two lippes

Neglected Cassia or the naturall sweetes

Of the Spring-violet, they are not yet much whithered,

My Lord I should be merry, these your frownes

Shew in a Helmet, louely but on me,

In such a peacefull enterueiw me thinkes

They are to too roughly knit.

BRA.

O dissemblance.

Do you bandy factions gainst me? haue you learn't,

The trick of impudent basenes to complaine

Vnto your kindred?

ISA.

Neuer my deere Lord.

BRAC.

Must I be haunted out, or wast your trick

To meete some amorous gallant heere in Rome

That must supply our discontinuance?

ISA.

I pray sir burst my heart, and in my death

Turne to your antient pitty, though not loue.

BRA.

Because your brother is the corpulent Duke,

That is the great Duke, S'death I shall not shortly

Rackit away fiue hundreth Crownes at Tenis,

But it shall rest vpon record: I scorne him

Like a shau'd Pollake, all his reuerent wit

Lies in his wardrope, hee's a discret fellow

When hee's made vp in his roabes of state,

Your brother the great Duke, because h'as gallies,

And now and then ransackes a Turkish flye-boate,

(Now all the hellish furies take his soule,)

First made this match, accursed be the Priest

That sang the wedding Masse, and euen my Issue.

ISA.

O to too far you haue curst.

BRA.

Your hand I'le kisse,

This is the latest ceremony of my loue,

[Page] Hence-forth I'le neuer lye with thee, by this,

This wedding-ring: I'le ne'remore lye with thee.

And this diuorce shall be as truely kept,

As if the Iudge had doom'd it: fare you well,

Our sleeps are seuer'd.

ISA.

Forbid it the sweet vnion

Of all things blessed; why the Saints in heauen

Will knit their browes at that.

BRA.

Let not thy loue,

Make thee an vnbeleeuer, this my vow,

Shall neuer on my soule bee satisfied

With my repentance: let thy brother rage

Beyond a horred tempest or sea-fight,

My vow is fixed.

ISA.

O my winding sheet,

Now shall I need thee shortly, deere my Lord,

Let me heare once more, what I would not heare,

Neuer.

BRA.

Neuer?

ISA.

O my vnkind Lord may your sins find mercy,

As I vpon a woefull widowed bed,

Shall pray for you, if not to turne your eyes,

Vpon your wretched wife, and hopefull sonne,

Yet that in time you'le fix them vpon heauen.

BRAC.

No more, go, go, complaine to the great Duke.

ISA.

No my deere Lord, you shall haue present witnesse,

How I'le worke peace betweene you, I will make

My selfe the author of your cursed vow

I haue some cause to do it, you haue none,

Conceale it I beseech you, for the weale

Of both your Dukedomes, that you wrought the meanes

Of such a separation, let the fault

Remaine with my supposed iealousy,

And thinke with what a pitteous and rent hear,

I shall performe this sad insuing part.

Enter Francisco, Flamineo, Montcello, Marcello, Camillo.

BRAC.

Well, take your course my honourable brother.

FRAN.

Sister, this is not well my Lord, why sister,

She merits not this welcome.

BRAC.

Welcome say?

Shee hath giuen a sharpe welcome.

FRAN.

Are you foolish?

Come dry your teares, is this a modest course.

[Page] To better what is nought, to raile and weepe,

Grow to a reconcilement, or by heauen,

I'le nere more deale betweene you.

ISA.

Sir you shall not,

No though Uittoria vpon that condition

Would become honest.

FRAN.

Was your husband loud.

Since we departed.

ISA.

By my life sir no,

I sweare by that I do not care to loose.

Are all these ruines of my former beauty,

Laid out for a whores triumph?

FRA.

Do you heare

Looke vpon other women, with what patience

They suffer these slight wrongs, with what iustice

They study to requite them, take that course.

ISA.

O that I were a man, or that I had power

To execute my apprehended wishes,

I would whip some with scorpions.

FRAN.

What? turn'd fury?

ISA.

To dig the strumpets eyes out, let her lye

Some twenty monethes a dying, to cut off

Her nose and lippes, pull out her rotten teeth,

Preserue her flesh like Mummia, for trophies

Of my iust anger: Hell to my affliction

Is meere snow-water, by your fauour sir,

Brother draw neere, and my Lord Cardinall,

Sir let me borrow of you but one kisse,

Hence-forth I'le neuer lye with you, by this,

This wedding ring.

FRA.

How? nere more lie with him,

ISA.

And this diuorce shall be as truly kept,

As if in thronged Court, a thousand eares

Had heard it, and a thousand Lawyers hands,

Seal'd to the separation.

BRAC.

Nere lie with me?

ISA.

Let not my former dotage,

Make thee an vnbeleuer, this my vow

Shall neuer on my soule be satisfied

With my repentance, manet alta mente repositum.

FRAN.

Now by my birth you are a foolish, mad,

And iealous woman.

BRA.

You see 'tis not my seeking.

FRAN.

Was this your circle of pure Vnicornes horne,

You said should charme your Lord; now hornes vpon thee,

[Page] For iealousy deserues them, keepe your vow,

And take your chamber.

ISA.

No sir I'le presently to Padua,

I will not stay a minute.

MONT.

O good Madame.

BRAC.

'Twere best to let her haue her humor.

Some halfe daies iourney will bring downe her stomacke,

And then she'le turne in post.

FRAN.

To see her come,

To my Lord Cardinall for a dispensation

Of her rash vow will beget excellent laughter.

ISA.

"Vnkindnesse do thy office, poore heart breake,

"Those are the killing greifes which dare not speake.

Exit.

MAR.

Camill's come my Lord.

Enter Camillo.

FRAN.

Where's the commission?

MAR.

Tis here.

FRAN.

Giue me the Signet.

FLAM.

My Lord do you marke their whispering, I will compound a medicine out of their two heads, stronger then garlick, deadlier then stibium, the Cantarides which are scarce seene to sticke vpon the flesh when they work to the heart, shall not do it with more silence or inuisible cunning.

Enter Doctor.

BRAC.

About the murder.

FLAM.

They are sending him to Naples, but I'le send him to Candy, her's another property to.

BRAC.

O the Doctor,

FLA.

A poore quackesaluing knaue, my Lord, one that should haue bene lasht for's letchery, but that he confest a iudgement, had an execution laid vpon him, and so put the whip to a non-plus.

DOCT.

And was consin'd, my Lord, by an arranter knaue then my selfe, and made pay all the coulourable execution.

FLAM.

He will shoot pils into a mans guts, shall make them haue more ventages then a cornet or a lamprey, hee will poyson a kisse, and was once minded, for his Master-peece, because Ireland breeds no poyson, to haue prepared a deadly vapour in a Spaniards fart that should haue poison'd all Dublin.

BRAC.

O Saint Anthony fire:

DOCT.

Your Secretary is merry my Lord:

FLAM.

O thou cursed antipathy to nature, looke his eyes bloud-shed like a needle a Chirurgeon stitcheth a wound with, let me embrace thee toad, & loue thee ô thou abhominable lothsome gargarisme, that will fetch vp lungs, lights, heart, and liuer [Page] by scruples.

BRAC.

No more, I must employ thee honest Doctor,

You must to Padua and by the way, vse some of your skil for vs.

DOC.

Sir I shall.

BRAC.

But for Camillo?

FLAM.

He dies this night by such a polliticke straine,

Men shall suppose him by's owne engine slaine.

But for your Dutchesse death.

DOCT.

I'le make her sure

BRAC.

Small mischiefes are by greater made secure.

FLAM.

Remember this you slaue, when knaues come to preferment they rise as gallouses are raised i'th low countries, one vpon another shoulders.

Exeunt.

MONT.

Here is an Embleme nephew pray peruse it.

'Twas throwne in at your window,

CAM.

At my window,

Here is a Stag my Lord hath shed his hornes,

And for the losse of them the poore beast weepes

The word Inopem me copia fecit.

MON.

That is.

Plenty of hornes hath made him poore of hornes.

CAM.

What should this meane.

MON.

Ile tell you, 'tis giuen out

You are a Cocould.

CAM.

Is it giuen out so.

I had rather such report as that my Lord.

Should keepe within dores.

FRAN.

Haue you any children.

CAM.

None my Lord.

FRA.

You are the happier

Ile tell you a tale.

CAM.

Pray my Lord.

FRAN.

An old tale.

Vppon a time Phoebus the God of light

Or him wee call the Sunne would neede be married.

The Gods gaue their consent, and Mercury

Was sent to voice it to the generall world.

But what a pitious cry their straight arose

Amongst Smiths, & Felt-makers, Brewers & Cooks.

Reapers and Butter-women, amongst Fishmongers

And thousand other trades, which are annoyed

By his excessiue heate; twas lamentable.

They came to Iupiter all in a sweat

And do forbid the banes; a great fat Cooke

Was made their Speaker, who intreates of Ioue

That Phoebus might bee guelded, for if now

When there was but one, Sunne so many men,

[Page] Weare like to perish by his violent heate.

What should they do if hee were married

And should be get more, and those children

Make fier-workes like their father, so say I,

Only I will apply it to your wife,

Her issue should not prouidence preuent it

Would make both nature, time, and man repent it.

MON.

Looke you cossin.

Go change the aire for shame see if your absence,

Will blast your Cornucopia, Marcello

Is chosen with you ioint commissioner

For the relieuing our Italian coast

From pirats.

MAR.

I am much honord int.

CAM.

But sir

Ere I returne the Stagges hornes may be sprouted,

Greater then these are shed.

MONT.

Do not feare it,

I'le bee your ranger.

CAM.

You must watch i'ch nights,

Then's the most danger.

FRAN.

Farewell good Marcello.

All the best fortunes of a Souldiers wish,

Bring you a ship-board.

CAM.

Were I not best now I am turn'd Souldier,

E're that I leaue my wife, sell all shee hath,

And then take leaue of her.

MONT.

I expect good from you,

Your parting is so merry.

CAM.

Merry my Lord, a'th Captaines humor right

I am resolued to be drunke this night.

Exit.

FRA.

So, 'twas well fitted, now shall we descerne,

How his wisht absence will giue violent way,

To Duke Brachiano's lust,

MONT.

Why that was it;

To what scorn'd purpose else should we make choice

Of him for a sea Captaine, and besides,

Count Lodowicke which was rumor'd for a pirate.

Is now in Padua.

FRAN.

Is't true?

MONT.

Most certaine.

I haue letters from him, which are suppliant

To worke his quicke repeale from banishment,

He meanes to adresse himselfe for pention,

Vnto our sister Dutchesse.

FRAN.

O 'twas well.

We shall not want his absence past sixe daies,

[Page] I faine would haue the Duke Brachiano run

Into notorious scandale, for their's nought

In such curst dotage, to repaire his name,

Onely the deepe sence of some deathlesse shame:

MON.

It may be obiected I am dishonourable,

To play thus with my kinsman, but I answere.

For my reuenge I'de stake a brothers life,

That being wrong'd durst not auenge himselfe.

FRA.

Come to obserue this Strūper.

MON.

Cursse of greatnes,

Sure hee'le not leaue her.

FRAN.

There's small pitty in't

Like mistle-tow on seare Elmes spent by weather,

Let him cleaue to her and both rot together.

Exeunt.

Enter Brachiano with one in the habite of a Coniurer.

BRAC.

Now sir I claime your promise, 'tis dead midnight,

The time prefixt to shew me by your Art,

How the intended murder of Camillo,

And our loathed Dutchesse grow to action.

CON.

You haue won me by your bounty to a deed,

I do not often practise, some there are,

Which by Sophisticke tricks, aspire that name

Which I would gladly loose, of Nigromancer:

As some that vse to iuggle vpon cardes,

Seeming to coniure, when indeed they cheate.

Others that raise vp their confederate spirits,

'Bout wind-mils, and indanger their owne neckes,

For making of a squib, and some their are

Will keepe a curtall to shew iuggling trickes

And giue out 'tis a spirit: besides these

Such a whole reame of Almanacke-makers, figure-flingers.

Fellowes indeed that onely liue by stealth,

Since they do meerely lie about stolne goods,

Thei'd make men thinke the diuell were fast and loose,

With speaking fustian Lattine: pray sit downe,

Put on this night-cap sir, 'tis charm'd, and now

I'le shew you by my strong-commanding Art

The circumstance that breakes your Dutchsse heart.

[Page] A DVMBE SHEVV.

Enter suspiciously, Iulio and Christophero, they draw a ourtains wher Brachian's picture is, they put on spectacles of glasse, which couer their eyes and noses, and then burne perfumnes afore the picture, and wash the lips of the picture, that done, quenching the fire, and putting off their pectacles they depart laughing.

Enter Isabella in her night-gowne as to did-ward, with lights after her, Count Lodouico, Giouanni, Guid-antonio and others waighting on her, shee kneeles downe as to prayers, then drawes the curtaine of the picture, doe's three reuerences to it, and kisses it thrice, shee faints and will not suffer them to come nere it, dies, sorrow exprest in Giouanni and in Count Lodouico, shees conueid out solemnly.

BRAC.

Excellent, then shee's dead,

CON.

She's poysoned,

By the fum'd picture, 'twas her custome nightly,

Before shee went to bed, to go and visite

Your picture, and to feed her eyes and lippes

On the dead shadow, Doctor Iulio

Obseruing this, infects it with an oile

And other poison'd stuffe, which presently

Did suffocate her spirits.

BRAC.

Me thought I saw,

Count Lodowicke there.

CON.

He was, and by my art

I finde hee did most passionately doate

Vpon your Dutchesse, now turne another way,

And view Camillo's farre more polliticke face,

Strike louder musicke from this charmed ground,

To yeeld, as fits the act, a Tragicke sound.

THE SECOND DVMBE SHEVV.

Enter Flamineo, Marcello, Camillo, with foure more as Captaines, they drinke healths and dance, a vauting horse is brought into the roome, Marcello and two more whisper'd out of the roome, while Flamineo and Camillo strip themselues into their shirts, as to vault, complement who shall beginne, as Camillo it about to vault, Flamineo pitcheth him vpon his necke, and with the help of the rest, wriths his necke about, seeme's to see if it be broke, and layes him foulded double as 'twere vnder the herse, makes [...] to call for helpe. [Page] Marcello comes in, laments, sends for the Cardinall and Duke, who comes forth with armed men, wonder at the act, commands the bodie to be carried home, apprehends Flamineo, Marcello, and the rest, and go as 'twere to apprehend Vittoria.

BRAC.

'Twas quaintly done, but yet each circumstance,

I tast not fully.

CON.

O 'twas most apparant,

You saw them enter charged with their deepe helthes

To their boone voyage, and to second that,

Flamineo cals to haue a vaulting horse

Maintaine their sport. The vertuous Marcello,

Is innocently plotted forth the roome,

Whilst your eye saw the rest, and can informe you

The engine of all.

MAR.

It seemes Marcello, and Flamineo

Are both committed.

CON.

Yes, you saw them guarded,

And now they are come with purpose to apprehend

Your Mistresse, faire Uittoria; wee are now

Beneath her roofe: 'twere fit we instantly

Make out by some backe posterne:

BRAC.

Noble friend,

You bind me euer to you, this shall stand

As the firme seale annexed to my hand.

Exit Brac.

It shall inforce a payment.

CON.

Sir I thanke you.

Both flowers and weedes, spring when the Sunne is warme,

And great men do great good, or else great harme.

Exit Con.

Enter Francisco, and Monticelso, their Chancellor and Register.

FRAN.

You haue dealt discreetly to obtaine the presence,

Of all the graue Leiger Embassadours

To heare Vittorias triall.

MON.

'Twas not ill,

For sir you know we haue nought but circumstances

To charge her with, about her husbands death,

Their approbation therefore to the proofes

Of her blacke lust, shall make her infamous

To all our neighbouring Kingdomes, I wonder (pable

If Brachiano will be here.

FRA.

O fye 'twere impudence too pal-

Enter Flamineo and Marcello guarded, and a Lawyer.

LAVV.

What are you in by the weeke, so I will try now [Page] whether thy wit be close prisoner, mee thinke's none should sit vpon thy sister but old whoore-maisters,

FLAM.

Or cocoulds, for your cocould is your most terrible tickler of letchery: whoore-maisters would serue, for none are iudges at tilting, but those that haue bene old Tilters.

LAVV.

My Lord Duke and shee haue bene very priuate:

FLAM.

You are a dull asse, 'tis threatned they haue bene very publicke.

LAVV.

If it can be proued they haue but kist one another.

FLAM.

What then?

LAVV.

My Lord Cardinall will ferit them,

FLAM.

A Cardinall I hope will not catch conyes.

LAVV.

For to sowe kisses (marke what I say) to sowe kisses, is to reape letchery, and I am sure a woman that will endure kissing is halfe won.

FLAM.

True, her vpper part by that rule, if you will win her nether part to, you know what followes.

LAVV.

Harke the Embassadours are lighted,

FLAM.

I do put on this feigned Garbe of mirth,

To gull suspition.

MAR.

O my vnfortunate sister!

I would my daggers point had cleft her heart

When she first saw Brachiano: You 'tis said,

Were made his engine, and his stauking horse

To vndo my sister.

FLAM.

I made a kind of path

To her & mine owne preferment.

MAR.

Your ruine,

FLAM.

Hum! thou art a souldier,

Followest the great Duke, feedest his victories,

As witches do their seruiceable spirits,

Euen with thy prodigall bloud, what hast got?

But like the wealth of Captaines, a poore handfull,

Which in thy palme thou bear'st, as men hold water

Seeking to gripe it fast, the fraile reward

Steales through thy fingers.

MAR.

Sir,

FLAM.

Thou hast scarce maintenance

To keepe thee in fresh shamoyes.

MAR.

Brother.

FLAM.

Heare me,

And thus when we haue euen powred ourselues,

[Page] Into great fights, for their ambition

Or idle spleene, how shall we find reward,

But as we seldome find the mistle-towe

Sacred to physicke: Or the builder Oke,

Without a Mandrake by it, so in our quest of gaine.

Alas the poorest of their forc'd dislikes

At a limbe proffers, but at heart it strikes:

This is lamented doctrine.

MAR.

Come, come.

FLAM.

When age shall turne thee,

White as a blooming hauthorne.

MAR.

I'le interrupt you.

For loue of vertue beare an honest heart,

And stride ouer euery polliticke respect,

Which where they most aduance they most infect.

VVere I your father, as I am your brother,

I should not be ambitious to leaue you

Enter Sauoy.

A better patrimony.

FLA.

I'le think on't, The Lord Embassadors.

Here there is a passage of the Lieger Embassadours ouer the Stage seuerally. Enter French Embassadours.

LAVV.

O my sprightly Frenchman, do you know him, he's an admirable Tilter.

FLAM.

I saw him at last Tilting, he shewed like a peuter candlesticke fashioned like a man in armour, houlding a Tilting staffe in his hand, little bigger then a candle of twelue i'th pound.

LAVV.

O but he's an excellent horseman.

FLAM.

A lame one in his lofty trickes, hee sleepes a horsebacke like a poulter,

Enter English and Spanish

LAVV.

Lo you my Spaniard.

FLAM.

He carries his face in's ruffe, as I haue seene a seruingman carry glasses in a cipres hat-band, monstrous steddy for feare of breaking, He lookes like the claw of a blacke-bird, first salted and then broyled in a candle.

Exeunt.

THE ARAIGNEMENT OF VITTORIA. Enter Francisco, Montcelso, the sixe lieger Embassadours, Brachiano, Uittoria, Isabella, Lawyer, and a guard.

MONT.

Forbeare my Lord, here is no place assing'd you,

This businesse by his holinesse is left

To our examination.

[Page]BRA.

May it thriue with you.

Laies a rich gowne vnder him,

FRAN.

A Chaire there for his Lordship.

BRA.

Forbeare your kindnesse, an vnbidden guest

Should trauaile as dutch-women go to Church:

Beare their stooles with them.

MON.

At your pleasure Sir.

Stand to the table gentlewomen: now Signior

Fall to your plea.

Domine Iudex conuerte oculos in hanc p [...]stem mulierum corruptissimam.

VIT.

Whats he?

FRAN.

A Lawyer, that pleades against you.

VIT.

Pray my Lord, Let him speake his vsuall tongue

Ile make no answere else.

FRAN.

Why you vnderstand lattin.

VIT.

I do Sir, but amongst this auditory

Which come to heare my cause, the halfe or more

May bee ignorant int'.

MON.

Go on Sir:

VIT.

By your fauour,

I will not haue my accusation clouded,

In a strange tongue: All this assembly

Shall heare what you can charge mee with.

FRAN.

Signior.

You need not stand on't much; pray change your language,

MON.

Oh for God sake: gentlewoman, your credit

Shall bee more famous by it.

LAVV.

Well then haue at you.

VIT.

I am at the marke Sir, Ile giue aime to you,

And tell you how neare you shoote.

LAVV.

Most literated Iudges, please your Lordships,

So to conniue your Iudgements to the view

Of this debausht and diuersiuolent woman

Who such a blacke concatenation

Of mischiefe hath effected, that to exterpe

The memory of't, must be the consummation

Ofher and her proiections

VIT.

What's all this

LAVV.

Hould your peace.

Exorbitant sinnes must haue exulceration.

VIT.

Surely my Lords this lawier here hath swallowed

Some Poticaryes bils, or proclamations.

And now the hard and vndegestable wordes,

[Page] Come vp like stones wee vse giue Haukes for phisicke.

Why this is welch to Lattin.

LAVV.

My Lords, the woman

Know's not her tropes nor figures, nor is perfect

In the accademick deriuation

Of Grammaticall elocution.

FRAN.

Sir your paynes

Shall bee well spared, and your deepe eloquence

Bee worthely applauded amongst those

Which vnderstand you.

LAVV.

My good Lord.

FRAN.

Sir,

Put vp your papers in your fustian bag,

Francisco speakes this as in scorne.

Cry mercy Sir, tis buckeram, and accept

My notion of your learn'd verbosity.

LAVV.

I most graduatically thanke your Lordship.

I shall haue vse for them elswhere.

MON.

I shall bee playner with you, and paint out

Your folies in more naturall red and white.

Then that vpon your cheeke.

VIT.

O you mistake.

You raise a blood as noble in this cheeke

As euer was your mothers.

MON.

I must spare you till proofe cry whore to that,

Obserue this creature here my honoured Lords,

A woman of a most prodigious spirit

In her effected.

VIT.

Honorable my Lord,

It doth not sute a reuerend Cardinall

To play the Lawier thus

MON.

Oh your trade instructs your language!

You see my Lords what goodly fruict she seemes,

Yet like those apples trauellers report

To grow where Sodom and Gomora stood.

I will but touch her and you straight shall see

Sheele fall to soote and ashes.

VIT.

Your inuenom'd Poticary should doo't

MON.

I am resolued.

Were there a second Paradice to loose

This Deuell would betray it.

VIT.

O poore charity!

Thou art seldome found in scarlet.

MON.

Who knowes not how, when seuerall night by night

Her gates were choak'd with coaches, and her roomes.

[Page] Out-brau'd the stars with seuerall kind of lights,

When shee did counterfet a Princes Court.

In musicke banquets and most ryotous surfets

This whore, forsooth, was holy.

VIT.

Ha? whore what's that?

MON.

Shall I expound whore to you? sure I shal;

Ile giue their perfect character. They are first,

Sweete meates which rot the eater: In mans nostrill

Poison'd perfumes. They are coosning Alcumy,

Shipwrackes in Calmest weather? What are whores?

Cold Russian winters, that appeare so barren,

As if that nature had forgot the spring.

They are the trew matteriall fier of hell,

Worse then those tributes ith low countries payed,

Exactions vpon meat, drinke, garments sleepe.

I euen on mans perdition, his sin.

They are those brittle euidences of law

Which forfait all a wretched mans estate

For leauing out one sillable. What are whores?

They are those flattering bels haue all one tune:

At weddings, and at funerals, your ritch whores

Are only treasuries by extortion fild,

And empted by curs'd riot. They are worse,

Worse then dead bodies, which are beg'd at gallowes

And wrought vpon by surgeons, to teach man

Wherin hee is imperfect. Whats a whore?

Shees like the guilty conterfetted coine

Which who so eare first stampes it bring in trouble

All that receaue it

VIT.

This carracter scapes me.

MON.

You gentlewoman;

Take from all beasts, and from all mineralls

Their deadly poison.

VIT.

Well what then?

MON.

Ile tell thee

Ile find in thee a Poticaries shop

To sample them all.

FR. EMB.

Shee hath liued ill.

ENG. and EMB.

Trew, but the Cardinals too bitter.

MON.

You know what Whore is next the deuell; Adultry.

Enters the deuell, murder.

FRAN.

Your vnhappy husband

[Page] Is dead.

VIT.

O hee's a happy husband

Now hee owes Nature nothing.

FRAN.

And by a vaulting engine.

MON.

An actiue plot

Hee iumpt into his graue.

FRAN.

what a prodigy wast,

That from some two yardes height a slender man (more,

Should breake his necke?

MON.

Ith' rushes.

FRA.

And what's.

Vpon the instant loose all vse of speach,

All vitall motion, like a man had laine

Wound vp three dayes. Now marke each circumstance.

MON.

And looke vpon this creature was his wife.

Shee comes not like a widow: shee comes arm'd

With scorne and impudence: Is this a mourning habit.

VIT.

Had I forknowne his death as you suggest,

I would haue bespoke my mourning.

MON.

O you are conning.

VIT.

You shame your wit and Iudgement

To call it so; What is my iust defence

By him that is my Iudge cal'd impudence?

Let mee appeale then from this Christian Court

To the vnciuill Tartar.

MON.

See my Lords.

Shee scandals our proceedings.

VIT.

Humbly thus.

Thus low, to the most worthy and respected

Leigier Embassadors, my modesty

And womanhood I tender; but withall

So intangled in a cursed accusation

That my defence of force like Perseus.

Must personate masculine vertue to the point.

Find mee but guilty, seuer head from body:

Weele part good frindes: I scorne to hould my life.

at yours or any mans intreaty, Sir,

ENG. EMB.

Shee hath a braue spirit

MON.

Well, well, such counterfet Iewels

Make trew on's oft suspected.

VIT.

You are deceaued.

For know that all your strickt combined heads,

Which strike against this mine of diamondes,

Shall proue but glassen hammers, they shall breake,

These are but faigned shadowes of my euels.

[Page] Terrify babes, my Lord, with painted deuils,

I am past such needlesse palsy, for your names,

Of Whoore and Murdresse they proceed from you,

As if a man should spit against the wind,

The filth returne's in's face.

MON.

Pray you Mistresse satisfy me one question:

Who lodg'd beneath your roofe that fatall night

Your husband brake his necke?

BRA.

That question

Inforceth me breake silence, I was there.

MONT.

Your businesse?

BRAC.

Why I came to comfort her,

And take some course for setling her estate,

Because I heard her husband was in debt

To you my Lord.

MONT.

He was.

BRAC.

And 'twas strangely fear'd,

That you would cosen her.

MONT.

Who made you ouer-seer?

BRAC.

Why my charity, my charity, which should flow

From euery generous and noble spirit,

To orphans and to widdows.

MONT.

Your lust.

BRA.

Cowardly dogs barke loudest. Sirrah Priest,

Ile talke with you hereafter,—Do you heare?

The sword you frame of such an excellent temper,

I'le sheath in your owne bowels:

There are a number of thy coate resemble

Your common post-boyes.

MONT.

Ha?

BRAC.

Your mercinary post-boyes,

Your letters carry truth, but 'tis your guise

To fill your mouth's with grosse and impudent lies.

SER.

My Lord your gowne.

BRAC.

Thou liest 'twas my stoole.

Bestow't vpon thy maister that will challenge

The rest a'th houshold-stuffe for Brachiano

Was nere so beggarly, to take a stoole

Out of anothers lodging: let him make

Valence for his bed on't, or a demy foote-cloth,

For his most reuerent moile, Monticelso,

Nemo me Impune lacescit.

Exit Brachiano.

MONT.

Your Champions gon.

[Page]VIT.

The wolfe may prey the better.

FRA.

My Lord there's great suspition of the murder,

But no sound proofe who did it: for my part

I do not thinke she hath a soule so blacke

To act a deed so bloudy, if shee haue,

As in cold countries husband-men plant Vines,

And with warme bloud manure them, euen so

One summer she will beare vnsauory fruite,

And ere next spring wither both branch and roote.

The act of bloud let passe, onely descend,

To matter of incontinence.

VIT.

I decerne poison,

Vnder your guilded pils.

MON.

Now the Duke's gone, I wil produce a letter,

Wherein 'twas plotted, her and you should meete,

At an Appoticaries summer-house.

Downe by the riuer Tiber: veiw't my Lords:

Where after wanton bathing and the heat

Of a lasciuious banquet.—I pray read it,

I shame to speak the rest.

VIT.

Grant I was tempted,

Temptation to lust proues not the act,

Cast a est quam nemo rogauit,

You reade his hot loue to me, but you want

My frosty answere.

MON.

Frost i'th dog-daies! strange!

VIT.

Condemne you me for that the Duke did loue mee,

So may you blame so me faire and christall riuer

For that some melancholike distracted man,

Hath drown'd himselfe in't.

MON.

Truly drown'd indeed.

VIT.

Summe vp my faults I pray, and you shall finde,

That beauty and gay clothes, a merry heart,

And a good stomacke to feast, are all,

All the poore crimes that you can charge me with:

Infaith my Lord you might go pistoll flyes,

The sport would be more noble.

MON.

Very good.

VIT.

But take you your course, it seemes you haue beggerd me

And now would faine vndo me, I haue houses, (first

Iewels, and a poore remnant of Crusado's,

Would those would make you charitable.

MON.

If the deuill

Did euer take good shape behold his picture.

[Page]VIT.

You haue one vertue left,

You will not flatter me.

FRA.

Who brought this letter?

VIT.

I am not compel'd to tell you.

MON.

My Lord Duke sent to you a thousand duckets,

The twelfth of August.

VIT.

'Twas to keepe your cosen

From prison, I paid vse for't.

MON.

I rather thinke

'Twas Interest for his lust.

VIT.

Who saies so but your selfe? if you bee my accuser

Pray cease to be my Iudge, come from the Bench,

Giue in your euidence 'gainst me, and let these

Be moderators: my Lord Cardinall,

Were your intelligencing eares as louing

As to my thoughts, had you an honest tongue

I would not care though you proclaim'd them all.

MONT.

Go to, go to.

After your goodly and vaine-glorious banquet,

I'le giue you a choake peare.

VIT.

A'your owne grafting?

MON.

You were borne in Uenice, honourably descended,

From the Vittelli, 'twas my cossins fate,

Ill may I name the hower to marry you,

Hee bought you of your father.

VIT.

Ha?

MON.

Hee spent there in sixe monthes

Twelue thousand Dukets, and to my acquaintance

Receiu'd in dowry with you not one Iulio:

'Twas a hard peny-worth, the ware being so light,

I yet but draw the curtaine now to your picture,

You came from thence a most notorious strumpet,

And so you haue continued.

VIT.

My Lord.

MON.

Nay heare me,

You shall haue time to prate my Lord Brachiano,

Alas I make but repetition,

Of what is ordinary and Ryalto talke,

And ballated, and would bee plaid a'th stage,

But that vice many times findes such loud freinds.

That Preachers are charm'd filent.

You Gentlemen Flamineo and Marcello,

The Court hath nothing now to charge you with,

[Page] Onely you must remaine vpon your suerties,

For your appearance.

FRA.

I stand for Marcello.

FLA.

And my Lord Duke for me.

MON.

For you Vittoria, your publicke fault,

Ioyn'd to'th condition of the present time,

Takes from you all the fruits of noble pitty.

Such a corrupted triall haue you made

Both of your life and beauty, and bene stil'd

No lesse in ominous fate then blasing starres

To Princes heares; your sentence, you are confin'd,

VIT.

Vnto a house of conuertites and your baud.

FLA.

Who I?

MON.

The Moore.

FLA.

O I am a sound man againe.

VIT.

A house of conuertites, what's that?

MON.

A house of penitent whoores.

VIT.

Do the Noblemen in Rome,

Erect it for their wiues, that I am sent

To lodge there?

FRAN.

You must haue patience.

VIT.

I must first haue vengeance.

I faine would know if you haue your saluation

By patent, that you proceed thus.

MON.

Away with her?

Take her hence.

VIT.

A rape, a rape.

MON.

How?

VIT.

Yes you haue rauisht iustice,

Forc't her to do your pleasure.

MON.

fy shee's mad

VIT.

Dye with these pils in your most cursed mawes,

Should bring you: health, or while you sit a'th Bench,

Let your owne spittle choake you.

MON.

She's turn'd fury.

VIT.

That the last day of iudgement may so find you,

And leaue you the same deuill you were before,

Instruct me some good horse-lech to speak Treason,

For since you cannot take my life for deeds,

Take it for wordes, ô womans poore reuenge

Which dwels but in the tongue, I will not weepe,

No I do scorne to call vp one poore teare

To fawne one your iniustice, beare me hence,

Vnto this house of what's your mittigating Title?

MON.

Of conuertites.

VIT.

It shal not be a house of conuertites

[Page] My minde shall make it honester to mee

Then the Popes Pallace, and more peaceable

Then thy soule, though thou art a Cardinall,

Know this, and let it some what raise your spight,

Through darkenesse Diamonds spred their ritchest light.

Enter Brachiano.

Exit Uittoria.

BRA.

Now you and I are friends sir, wee'le shake hands,

In a friends graue, together, a fit place,

Being the embleme of soft peace t'attone our hatred.

FRA.

Sir, what's the matter?

BRA.

I will not chase more bloud from that lou'd checke,

You haue lost too much already, fare-you-well.

FRA.

How strange these words sound? what's the interpretatiō?

FLA.

Good, this is a preface to the discouery of the Dutches death: Hee carries it well: because now I cannot counterfeit a whining passion for the death of my Lady, I will faine a madde humor for the disgrace of my sister, and that will keepe off idle questions, Treasons tongue hath a villanous palsy in't, I will talk to any man, heare no man, and for a time appeare a polliticke mad-man.

Enter Giouanni, Count Lodouico.

FRA.

How now my Noble cossin, what in blacke?

GIO.

Yes Vnckle, I was taught to imitate you

In vertue, and you must imitate mee

In couloures for your garments, my sweete mother

Is,

FRA.

How? Where?

GIO.

Is there, no yonder, indeed sir I'le not tell you,

For I shall make you weepe.

FRA.

Is dead.

GIO.

Do not blame me now,

I did not tell you so.

LOD.

She's dead my Lord.

FRA.

Dead?

MON.

Blessed Lady;

Thou art now aboue thy woes,

Wilt please your Lordships to with-draw a little.

GIO.

What do the dead do, vncle? do they eate,

Heare musicke, goe a hunting, and bee merrie, as wee that liue?

FRAN.

No cose; they sleepe.

GIO.

Lord, Lord, that I were dead,

I haue not slept these sixe nights. When doe they wake?

[Page]FRAN.

When God shall please.

Good God let her sleepe euer.

GIO.

For I haue knowne her wake an hundreth nights,

When all the pillow, where shee laid her head,

Was brine-wet with her teares. I am to complaine to you Sir.

Ile tell you how they haue vsed her now shees dead:

They wrapt her in a cruell fould of lead,

And would not let mee kisse her.

FRAN.

Thou didst loue her.

GIO.

I haue often heard her say shee gaue mee sucke,

And it should seeme by that shee deerely lou'd mee,

Since Princes seldome doe it.

FRAN.

O, all of my poore sister that remaines!

Take him away for Gods sake.

MON.

How now my Lord?

FRAN.

Beleeue mee I am nothing but her graue,

And I shall keepe her blessed memorie,

Longer then thousand Epitaphs.

Enter Flamineo as distracted.

FLA.

Wee indure the strokes like anuiles or hard steele,

Till paine it selfe make vs no paine to feele.

Who shall doe mee right now? Is this the end of seruice? Ide rather go weede garlicke; trauaile through France, and be mine owne ostler; weare sheepe-skin lininges; or shoos that stinke of blacking; bee entred into the list of the fourtie thousand pedlars in Poland.

Enter Sauoy.

Would I had rotted in some Surgeons house at Venice, built vpon the Pox as well as on piles, ere I had seru'd Brachiano.

SAV.

You must haue comfort.

FLA.

Your comfortable wordes are like honie. They rellish well in your mouth that's whole; but in mine that's wounded they go downe as if the sting of the Bee were in them. Oh they haue wrought their purpose cunningly, as if they would not seeme to doe it of malice. In this a Polititian imitates the deuill, as the deuill imitates a Canon. Wheresoeuer he comes to doe mischiefe, he comes with his backside towardes you.

Enter the French.

FRE.

The proofes are euident.

FLA.

Proofe! t'was corruption. O Gold, what a God art thou! and ô man, what a deuill art thou to be tempted by that [Page] cursed Minerall! You diuersiuolent Lawyer; marke him, knaues turne informers, as maggots turne to flies, you may catch gudgions with either. A Cardinall; I would hee would heare mee, theres nothing so holie but mony will corrupt and putrifie it, like vittell vnder the liue. You are happie in England, my Lord; here they sell iustice with those weights they presse men to death with. O horrible salarie!

Enter English Embassador.

ENG.

Fie, fie, Flamineo.

FLA.

Bels nere ring well, till they are at their full pitch, And I hope yon Cardinall shall neuer haue the grace to pray well, till he come to the scaffold.

If they were rackt now to know the confederacie! But your Noblemen are priuiledged from the racke; and well may. For a little thing would pull some of them a peeces afore they came to their arraignement. Religion; oh how it is commeddled with policie. The first bloudshed in the world happened about religion. Would I were a Iew.

MAR.

O, there are too many.

FLA.

You are deceiu'd. There are not Iewes enough;

Priests enough, nor gentlemen enough.

MAR.

How?

FLA.

Ile proue it. For if there were Iewes enough, so many Christians would not turne vsurers; if Preists enough, one should not haue sixe Benefices; and if gentlemen enough, so many earlie mushromes, whose best growth sprang from a dunghill, should not aspire to gentilitie. Farewell. Let others liue by begging. Bee thou one of them; practize the art of Wol [...]or in England to swallow all's giuen thee; and yet let one purgation make thee as hungrie againe as fellowes that worke in saw-pit. Ile go heare the scritch-owle.

Exit.

LOD.

This was Brachiano's Pandar, and 'tis strange

That in such open and apparant guilt

Of his adulterous sister, hee dare vtter

So scandalous a passion. I must wind him.

Enter Flamineo.

FLA.

How dares this banisht Count returne to Rome,

His pardon not yet purchast? I haue heard

The deceast Dutchesse gaue him pension,

And that he came along from Padua

I'th' traine of the yong Prince. There's somewhat in 't.

[Page] Phisitians, that cure poisons, still doe worke

With counterpoisons.

MAR.

Marke this strange incounter.

FLA.

The God of Melancholie turne thy gall to poison,

And let the stigmaticke wrincles in thy face,

Like to the boisterous waues in a rough tide

One still ouertake an other.

LOD.

I doe thanke thee

And I doe wish ingeniously for thy sake

The dog-daies all yeare long.

FLA.

How crokes the rauen?

Is our good Dutchesse dead?

LOD.

Dead

FLA.

O fate!

Misfortune comes like the Crowners businesse,

Huddle vpon huddle.

LOD.

Shalt thou & I ioyne housekeeping?

FLA.

Yes, content.

Let's bee vnsociably sociable.

LOD.

Sit some three daies together, and discourse.

FLA.

Onely with making faces;

Lie in our clothes.

LOD.

With faggots for our pillowes.

FLA.

And bee lowsie.

LOD.

In taffeta lininges; that's gentile melancholie,

Sleepe all day.

FLA.

Yes: and like your melancholike hare

Feed after midnight.

Wee are obserued: see how yon couple greue.

LOD.

What a strange creature is a laughing foole,

As if man were created to no vse

But onely to shew his teeth.

FLA.

Ile tell thee what,

It would doe well in stead of looking glasses

To set ones face each morning by a sawcer

Of a witches congealed bloud.

LOD.

Pretious gue.

Weel neuer part.

FLA.

Neuer: till the beggerie of Courtiers,

The discontent of church-men, want of souldiers,

And all the creatures that hang manacled,

Worse then strappado'd, on the lowest fellie

Of fortunes wheele be taught in our two liues.

Enter Antonelli.

To scorne that world which life of meanes depriues.

AN.

My Lord, I bring good newes. The Pope on's death-bed,

At th' earnest suit of the great Duke of Florence,

[Page] Hath sign'd your pardon, and restor'd vnto you—

LOD.

I thanke you for your news. Look vp againe

Flamineo, see my pardon.

FLAM.

Why do you laugh?

There was no such condition in our couenant.

LOD.

Why?

FLAM.

You shall not seeme a happier man then I,

You know our vow sir, if you will be merry,

Do it i'th like posture, as if some great man

Sate while his enemy were executed:

Though it be very letchery vnto thee,

Doo't with a crabbed Polititians face.

LOD.

Your sister is a damnable whore.

FLAM.

Ha?

LOD.

Looke you; I spake that laughing.

FLAM.

Dost euer thinke to speake againe?

LOD:

Do you heare?

Wil't sel me fourty ounces of her bloud,

To water a mandrake?

FL.

Poore Lord; you did vow

To liue a lowzy creature.

LOD.

Yes;

FLA.

Like one

That had for euer forfaited, the day-light,

By being in debt,

LOD.

Ha, ha?

FLAM.

I do not greatly wonder you do breake:

Your Lordship learn't long since. But Ile tell you,

LOD.

What?

FLA.

And't shall sticke by you.

LOD.

I long for it.

FLAM.

This laughter scuruily becomes your face,

If you will not be melancholy, be angry.

Strikes him.

See now I laugh too.

MAR.

You are to blame, Ile force you hence.

LOD.

Vnhand me:

Exit Mar. & Flam.

That ere I should be forc't to right my selfe,

Vpon a Pandar.

ANT.

My Lord.

LOD.

H'had bene as good met with his fist a thunderbolt.

GAS.

How this shewes!

LOD.

Vds' death, how did my sword misse him?

These rogues that are most weary of their liues,

Still scape the greatest dangers,

A pox vpon him: all his reputation;

Nay all the goodnesse of his family;

[Page] Is not worth halfe this earthquake.

I learnt it of no fencer to shake thus;

Come, I'le forget him, and go drinke some wine.

Exeunt.

Enter Franciso and Monticelso.

MON.

Come, come my Lord, vntie your foulded thoughts,

And let them dangle loose as a brid's haire.

Your sister's poisoned.

FRA.

Farre bee it from my thoughts

To seeke reuenge.

MON.

What, are you turn'd all marble?

FRA.

Shall I defye him, and impose a warre

Most burthensome on my poore subiects neckes,

Which at my will I haue not power to end?

You know; for all the murders, rapes, and thefts,

Committed in the horred lust of warre,

He that vniustly caus'd it first proceed,

Shall finde it in his graue and in his seed.

MON.

That's not the course I'de wish you: pray, obserue me,

We see that vndermining more preuailes

Then doth the Canon, Beare your wrongs conceal'd,

And, patient as the Tortoise, let this Cammell

Stalke o're your back vnbruis'd: sleep with the Lyon,

And let this brood of secure foolish mice

Play with your nosthrils, till the time bee ripe

For th'bloudy audit, and the fatall gripe:

Aime like a cunning fowler, close one eie,

That you the better may your game espy.

FRA.

Free me my innocence; frō treacherous actes:

I know ther's thunder yonder: and I'le stand,

Like a safe vallie, which low bends the knee

To some aspiring mountaine: since I know

Treason, like spiders weauing nets for flies,

By her foule worke is found, and in it dies.

To passe away these thoughts, my honour'd Lord,

It is reported you possesse a booke

Wherein you haue quoted, by intelligence,

The names of all notorious offenders

[Page] Lurking about the Citty,

MON.

Sir I doe

And some there are which call it my blacke booke:

Well may the title hold: for though it teach not

The Art of coniuring, yet in it lurke,

The names of many deuils.

FRAN.

Pray let's see it.

MON.

I'le fetch it to your Lordship.

FRA.

Monticelso,

Exit Monticelso.

I will not trust thee, but in all my plots

I'le rest as iealous as a Towne besieg'd.

Thou canst not reach what I intend to act.

Your flax soone kindles, soone is out againe,

But gold slow heat's, and long will hot remaine.

MON.

'Tis here my Lord.

Enter Mont.

FRA.

First your Intelligencers pray let's see.

Fran. with

MON.

Their number rises strangely,

And some of them

You'd Take for honest men.

Next are Pandars.

These are your Pirats: and these following leaues,

For base rogues that vndo yong Gentlemen,

By taking vp commodities: for pollitick bankroupts:

For fellowes that are bawdes to their owne wiues,

Onely to put off horses and slight iewels,

Clockes, defac't plate, and such commodities,

At birth of their first children.

FRA.

Are there such?

MON.

These are for Impudent baudes,

That go in mens apparell: for vsurers

That share with scriueners for their good reportage:

For Lawyers that will antedate their writtes:

And some Diuines you might find foulded there;

But that I slip them o're for conscience sake.

Here is a generall catalogue of knaues.

A man might study all the prisons o're,

Yet neuer attaine this knowledge.

FRA.

Murderers.

Fould downe the leafe I pray,

Good my Lord let me borrow this strange doctrine.

MON.

Pray vse't my Lord.

[Page]FRAN.

I do assure your Lordship,

You are a worthy member of the State,

And haue done infinite good in your discouery

Of these offendors.

MON.

Some-what Sir.

FRA.

O God!

Better then tribute of wolues paid in England.

'Twill hang their skinnes o'th hedge.

MON.

I must make bold

To leaue your Lord-ship.

FRA.

Deerely sir, I thanke you,

If any aske for me at Court, report

You haue left me in the company of knaues.

Exit Mont.

I gather now by this, some cunning fellow

That's my Lords Officer, one that lately skipt

From a Clerkes deske vp to a Iustice chaire,

Hath made this knauish summons; and intendes,

As th'Irish rebels wont were to sell heads,

So to make prize of these. And thus it happens,

Your poore rogues pay for't, which haue not the meanes

To present bribe in fist: the rest o'th'band

Are raz'd out of the knaues record; or else

My Lord he winkes at them with easy will,

His man growes rich, the knaues are the knaues still.

But to the vse I'le make of it; it shall serue

To point me out a list of murderers,

Agents for any villany. Did I want

Ten leash of Curtisans, it would furnish me;

Nay lawndresse three Armies. That so in little paper

Should lye th'vndoing of so many men!

'Tis not so big as twenty declarations.

See the corrupted vse some make of bookes:

Diuinity, wrested by some factious bloud,

Draws swords, swelsbattels, & orethrowes all good.

To fashion my reuenge more seriously,

Let me remember my dead sisters face:

Call for her picture: no; I'le close mine eyes,

And in a melancholicke thought I'le frame

Enter Isabola's Ghost.

Her figure 'fore me. Now I—ha'te how strong

[Page] Imagination workes! how she can frame

Things which are not! me thinks she stands afore me▪

And by the quicke Idea of my minde,

Were my skill pregnant, I could draw her picture.

Thought, as a subtile Iugler, makes vs deeme

Things, supernaturall, which haue cause

Common as sickenesse. 'Tis my melancholy,

How cam'st thou by thy death?—how idle am I

To question mine owne idlenesse?—did euer

Man dreame awake till now?—remoue this obiect

Out of my braine with't: what haue I to do

With tombes, or death-beds, funerals, or teares,

That haue to meditate vpon reuenge?

So now 'tis ended, like an old wiues story.

States-men thinke often they see stranger sights

Then mad-men, Come, to this waighty businesse.

My Tragedy must haue some idle mirth in't,

Else it will neuer passe. I am in loue,

In loue with Corombona; and my suite

Thus haltes to her in verse.—

I haue done it rarely: ô the fate of Princes!

I am so vs'd to frequent flattery,

he writes

That being alone I now flatter my selfe;

But it will serue, 'tis seal'd; beare this

Enter seruant

To th'house of Conuertites; and watch your leisure

To giue it to the hands of Corombona,

Or to the Matron, when some followers

Of Brachiano may be by. Away

Exit seruant.

He that deales all by strength, his wit is shallow:

When a mans head goes through each limbe will follow.

The engine for my busines, bold Count Lodowicke:

'Tis gold must such an instrument procure,

With empty fist no man doth falcons lure.

Brachiano, I am now fit for thy encounter.

Like the wild Irish I'le nere thinke thee dead,

Till I can play at footeball with thy head.

Flectere sinequeo Superes, Acher [...]nta mouebo.

Exit Mon.

[Page]

Enter the Matron, and Flamineo.

MAT.

Should it be knowne the Duke hath such recourse.

To your imprison'd sister, I were like

T'incur much damage by it.

FLA.

Not a scruple.

The Pope lies on his death-bed, and their heads

Are troubled now with other businesse

Than guarding of a Ladie.

Enter seruant.

SER.

Yonder's Flamineo in conference

With the Matrona. Let mee speake with you.

I would intreat you to deliuer for mee

This letter to the faire Uittoria.

MAT.

I shall Sir.

Enter Brachiano.

SER.

With all care and secrecie,

Hereafter you shall know mee, and receiue

Thankes for this curtesie.

FLA.

How now? what's that?

MAT.

A letter.

FLA.

To my sister: Ile see't deliuered.

BRA.

What's that you read Flamineo?

FLA.

Looke.

BRA.

Ha? To the most vnfortunate his best respected Uittoria.

Who was the messenger?

FLA.

I know not.

BRA.

No! Who sent it?

FLA.

Vd's foot you speake, as if a man

Should know what foule is coffind in a bak't meate

Afore you cut it vp.

BRA.

Ile open't, were't her heart. What's heere subscribed

This iugling is grosse and palpable. (Florence?

I haue found out the conueyance; read it, read, it.

FLA.

Your teares Ile turne to triumphes, bee but mine.

Reades the letter,

Your propis fall'n; I pittie that a vine

Which Princes heretofore haue long'd to gather,

Wanting suppperters, now should fade and wither.

Wine yfaith, my Lord, with lees would serue his turne.

Your sadimprisonement lle soone vncharme,

And with a princelie vncontrolled arme

Lead you to Florence, where my loue and care

Shall hang your wishes in my siluer haire.

A halter on his strange aequiuocation.

Nor for [...]y yeares returne mee the sad willow,

[Page] Who prefer blossomes before fruit that's mellow.

Rotten on my knowledge with lying too long i'th bed-straw.

And all the lines of age this line conuinces:

The Gods neuer wax old, no more doe Princes.

Apox on't teare it, let's haue no more Atheists for Gods sake.

BRA.

Vdsdeath, Ile cut her into Atomies

And let th'irregular North-winde sweepe her vp

And blow her int' his nosthrils. Where's this whore?

FLA.

That? what doe you call her?

BRA.

Oh, I could bee mad,

Preuent the curst disease shee'l bring mee to;

And teare my haire off. Where's this changeable stuffe?

FLA.

Ore head and eares in water, I assure you,

Shee is not for your wearing.

BRA.

In you Pandar?

FLA.

What mee, my Lord, am I your dog?

BRA.

A bloud-hound: doe you braue? doe you stand mee?

FLA.

Stand you? let those that haue diseases run;

I need no plaisters.

BRA.

Would you bee kickt?

FLA.

Would you haue your necke broke?

I tell you Duke, I am not in Russia;

My shinnes must be kept whole.

BRA.

Do you know mee?

FLA.

O my Lord! methodically.

As in this world there are degrees of euils:

So in this world there are degrees of deuils.

You'r a great Duke; I your poore secretarie.

I doe looke now for a Spanish fig, or an Italian sallet daily.

BRA.

Pandar, plie your conuoy, and leaue your prating.

FLA.

All your kindnesse to mee is like that miserable curtesie of Polyphemus to Ulisses, you reserue mee to be deuour'd last, you would dig turues out of my graue to feed your Larkes: that would bee musicke to you. Come, Ile lead you to her.

BRA.

Do you face mee?

FLA.

O Sir I would not go before a Pollitique enemie with my backe towards him, though there were behind mee a whirlepoole.

Enter Vittoria to Brachiano and Flamineo.

BRA.

Can you read Mistresse? looke vpon that letter;

There are no characters nor Hieroglyphicks.

[Page] You need no comment, I am growne your receiuer,

Gods pretious you shall bee a braue great Ladie,

A statelie and aduanced whore.

VIT.

Say Sir.

BRA.

Come, come, let's see your Cabinet, discouer

Your treasurie of loue-letters. Death and furies,

Ile see them all.

VIT.

Sir, vpon my soule,

I haue not any. Whence was this directed?

BRA.

Confusion on your politicke ignorance.

You are reclaimed; are you? Ile giue you the bels

And let you flie to the deuill.

FLA.

Ware hawke, my Lord.

VIT.

Florence! This is some treacherous plot, my Lord,

To mee, he nere was louely I protest,

So much as in my sleepe.

BRA.

Right: they are plots.

Your beautie! ô, ten thousand curses on't.

How long haue I beheld the deuill in christall?

Thou hast lead mee, like an heathen sacrifice,

With musicke, and with fatal! yokes of flowers

To my eternall ruine. Woman to man

Is either a God or a wolfe.

VIT.

My Lord.

BRA.

Away.

Wee'l bee as differing as two Adamants;

The one shall shunne the other. What? do'st weepe?

Procure but ten of thy dissembling trade,

Yee'ld furnish all the Irish funeralls

With howling, past wild Irish.

FLA.

Fie, my Lord.

BRA.

That hand, that cursed hand, which I haue wearied

With doting kisses! O my sweetest Dutchesse

How louelie art thou now! Thy loose thoughtes

Scatter like quicke-siluer, I was bewitch'd;

For all the world speakes ill of thee.

VIT.

No matter.

Ile liue so now Ile make that world recant

And change her speeches. You did name your Dutchesse.

BRA.

Whose death God pardon.

VIT.

Whose death God reuenge

On thee most godlesse Duke.

FLA.

Now for tow whirle windes.

VIT.

What haue I gain'd by thee but infamie?

Thou hast stain'd the spotlesse honour of my house,

And frighted thence noble societie:

[Page] Like those, which sicke' oth' Palsie, and retaine

Ill-senting foxes 'bout them, are still shun'd

By those of choicer nosthrills. What doe you call this house?

Is this your palace? did not the Iudge stile it

A house of penitent whores? who sent mee to it?

Who hath the honour to aduance Uittoria

To this incontinent colledge? is 't not you?

Is 't not your high preferment? Go, go brag

How many Ladies you haue vndone, like mee.

Fare you well Sir; let me heare no more ofy ou.

I had a limbe corrupted to an vlcer,

But I haue cut it off: and now Ile go

Weeping to heauen on crutches. For your giftes,

I will returne them all; and I do wish

That I could make you full Executor

To all my sinnes, ò that I could tosse my selfe

Into a graue as quickly: for all thou art worth

Ile not shed one teare more;—Ile burst first.

She throwes her selfe vpon a bed.

BRA.

I haue drunke Lethe.

Uittoria? My dearest happinesse? Vittoria?

What doe you aile my Loue? why doe you weepe?

VIT.

Yes, I now weepe poniardes, doe you see.

BRA.

Are not those matchlesse eies mine?

VIT.

I had rather.

They were not matches.

BRA.

Is not this lip mine?

VIT.

Yes: thus to bite it off, rather than giu e it thee.

FLA.

Turne to my Lord, good sister.

VIT.

Hence you Pandar.

FLA.

Pandar! Am I the author of your sinne?

VIT.

Yes: Hee's a base theif that a theif lets in.

FLA.

Wee're blowne vp, my Lord,

BRA.

Wilt thou heare mee?

Once to bee iealous of thee is t' expresse

That I will loue thee euerlastingly,

And neuer more bee iealous.

VIT.

O thou foole,

Whose greatnesse hath by much oregrowne thy wit!

What dar'st thou doe, that I not dare to suffer,

Excepting to bee still thy whore? for that;

[Page] In the seas bottome sooner thou shalt make

A bonefire.

FLA.

O, no othes for gods sake.

BRA.

Will you heare mee?

VIT.

Neuer.

FLA.

What a damn'd impostume is a womans will?

Can nothing breake it? fie, fie, my Lord.

Women are caught as you take Tortoises,

Shee must bee turn'd on her backe. Sister, by this hand

I am on your side. Come, come, you haue wrong'd her.

What a strange credulous man were you, my Lord,

To thinke the Duke of Florence could loue her?

Will any Mercer take an others ware

When once 't is tows'd and sullied? And, yet sister,

How scuruily this frowardnesse becomes you?

Yong Leuerets stand not long; and womens anger

Should, like their flight, procure a little sport;

A full crie for a quarter of an hower;

And then bee put to th' dead quat.

BRA.

Shall these eies,

VVhich haue so long time dwelt vpon your face,

Be now put out?

FLA.

No cruell Land-ladie 'ith' world,

VVhich lend's forth grotes to broome-men, & takes vse for thē,

VVould doe't.

Hand her, my Lord, and kisse her: be not like

A ferret to let go your hold with blowing.

BRA.

Let vs renew right handes.

VIT.

Hence.

BRA.

Neuer shall rage, or the forgetfull wine,

Make mee commit like fault.

FLA.

Now you are ith' way out, follow 'thard.

BRA.

Bee thou at peace with mee; let all the world

Threaten the Cannon.

FLA.

Marke his penitence.

Best natures doe commit the grossest faultes,

When they're giu'n ore to iealosie; as best wine

Dying makes strongest vinneger. Ile tell you;

The Sea's more rough and raging than calme riuers,

But nor so sweet nor wholesome. A quiet woman

Is a still water vnder a great bridge.

A man may shoot her safely.

VIT.

O yee dissembling men!

FLA.

Wee suckt that, sister, from womens brestes, in our [Page] first infancie.

VIT.

To ad miserie to miserie.

BRA.

Sweetest.

VIT.

Am I not low enough?

I, I, your good heart gathers like a snow-ball

Now your affection's cold.

FLA.

Vd'foot, it shall melt,

To a hart againe, or all the wine in Rome

Shall run o'th lees for't.

VIT.

Your dog or hawke should be rewarded better

Then I haue bin. Ile speake not one word more.

FLA.

Stop her mouth,

With a sweet kisse, my Lord.

So now the tide's turne'd the vessel's come about

Hee's a sweet armefull. O wee curl'd-haird men

Are still most kind to women. This is well.

BRA.

That you should chide thus!

FLA.

O, sir, your little chimnies

Doe euer cast most smoke. I swet for you.

Couple together with as deepe a silence,

As did the Grecians in their wodden horse.

My Lord supplie your promises with deedes.

You know that painted meat no hunger feedes.

BRA.

Stay ingratefull Rome. (vsage.

FLA.

Rome! it deserues to be cal'd Barbarie, for our villainous

BRA.

Soft; the same proiect which the Duke of Florence,

(Whether in loue or gullerie I know not)

Laid downe for her escape, will I pursue.

FLA.

And no time fitter than this night, my Lord;

The Pope being dead; and all the Cardinals entred

The Conclaue for th' electing a new Pope;

The Cittie in a great confusion;

Wee may attire her in a Pages suit,

Lay her post-horse, take shipping, and amaine

For Padua.

BRA.

Ile instantly steale forth the Prince Giouanni,

And make for Padua. You two with your old Mother

And yong Marcello that attendes on Florence,

If you can worke him to it, follow mee.

I will aduance you all: for you Vittoria,

[Page] Thinke of a Dutchesse title.

FLA.

Lo you sister.

Stay, my Lord; I'le tell you a tale. The crocodile, which liues in the riuer Nilus, hath a worme breds i'th teeth of't, which puts it to extreame anguish: a little bird, no bigger then a wren, is barbor-surgeon to this crocodile; flies into the iawes of't; pickes out the worme; and brings present remedy. The fish, glad of ease but ingratefull to her that did it, that the bird may not talke largely of her abroad for non payment, closeth her chaps intending to swallow her, and so put her to perpetuall silence. But nature loathing such in gratitude, hath arm'd this bird with a quill or pricke on the head, top o'th which wounds the crocodile i'th mouth; forceth her open her bloudy prison; and away flies the pretty tooth-picker from her cruell patient.

BRAC.

Your application is, I haue not rewarded

The seruice you haue done me.

FLAM.

No, my Lord;

You sister are the crocodile: you are blemisht in your fame, My Lord cures it. And though the comparison hold not in euery particle; yet obserue, remember, what good the bird with the pricke i'th head hath done you; and scorne ingratitude.

It may appeare to some ridiculous

Thus to talke knaue and madman; and sometimes

Come in with a dried sentence, stuft with sage.

But this allowes my varying of shapes,

Knaues do grow great by being great mens apes.

Exeunt.

Enter Francisco, Lodouico, Gasper, and sixe Embassadours.

At another dore the Duke of Florence.

FRA.

So, my Lord, I commend your diligence

Guard well the conclaue, and, as the order is,

Let none haue conference with the Cardinals.

LOD.

I shall, my Lord: roome for the Embassadors,

GAS.

They're wondrous braue to day: why do they weare

These seuerall habits?

LOD,

O sir, they'r Knights

Of seuerall Orders.

That Lord i'th blacke cloak with the siluer crosse

Is Knight of Rhodes; the next Knight of S. Michael▪

That of the golden fleece; the French-man there

Knight of the Holy-Ghost; my Lord of Sauoy

[Page] Knight of th'Annuntiation; the Englishman

Is Knight of th'honoured Garter, dedicated

Vnto their Saint, S. George. I could describe to you

Their seuerall institutions, with the lawes

Annexed to their Orders, but that time

Permits not such discouery.

FRAN.

Where's Count Lodowicke?

LOD.

Here my Lord.

FRA.

'Tis o'th point of dinnertime,

Marshall the Cardinals seruice,

LOD.

Sir I shall.

Enter seruants with seuerall dishes couered.

Stand, let me search your dish, who's this for?

SER.

For my Lord Cardinall Monticelso,

LOD.

Whose this?

SER.

For my Lord Cardinall of Burbon.

FRE.

Why doth he search the dishes, to obserue

What meate is drest?

ENG.

No Sir, but to preuent.

Least any letters should be conuei'd in

To bribe or to sollicite the aduancement

Of any Cardinall, when first they enter

'Tis lawfull for the Embassadours of Princes

To enter with them, and to make their suit

For any man their Prince affecteth best;

But after, till a generall election,

No man may speake with them.

LOD.

You that attend on the Lord Cardinals

Open the window, and receiue their viands.

A CAR.

You must returne the seruice; the L. Cardinals

Are busied 'bout electing of the Pope,

They haue giuen o're scrutinie, and are fallen

To admiration.

LOD.

Away, away.

FRAN.

I'le lay a thousand Duckets you here news

A Cardinal on the Tarras

Of a Pope presently, Hearke; sure he's elected,

Behold! my Lord of Arragon appeares,

On the Church battlements.

ARRAGON.

Denuntio vobis gaudium magnum. Reuerendissimus Cardinalis Lorenso de Monticelso electus est in sedem Apostoli [...]am, & elegit sibinomen Paulum quartum.

[Page]OMNES.

Uiuat sanctus Pater Paulus Quartus.

SER.

Vittoria my Lord.

FRAN.

Wel: what of her?

SER.

Is fled the Citty,

FRA.

Ha?

SER.

With Duke Brachiano.

FRA.

Fled? Where's the Prince

SER.

Gone with his father. (Giouanni

FRAN.

Let the Matrona of the Conuertites

Be apprehended: fled ô damnable!

How fortunate are my wishes. Why? 'twas this

I onely laboured. I did send the letter

T'instruct him what to doe. Thy fame, fond Duke,

I first haue poison'd; directed thee the way

To marrie a whore; what can be worse? This followes▪

The hand must act to drowne the passionate tongue,

I scorne to weare a sword and prate of wrong.

Enter Monticelso in state.

MON.

My Lord reportes Vittoria Corombona

Is stol'ne from forth the house of Conuertites

By Brachiano, and they're fled the Cittie.

Now, though this bee the first daie of our state,

Wee cannot better please the diuine power,

Than to sequester from the holie Church

These cursed persons. Make it therefore knowne,

Wee doe denounce excommunication

Against them both: all that are theirs in Rome

Wee likewise banish. Set on.

Exeunt.

FRAN.

Come deare Lodouico.

You haue tane the sacrament to prosecute

Th' intended murder.

LOD.

With all constancie.

But, Sir, I wonder you'l ingage your selfe,

In person, being a great Prince.

FRAN.

Diuert mee not.

Most of his Court are of my faction,

And some are of my councell. Noble freind,

Our danger shall be 'like in this designe,

Giue leaue, part of the glorie may bee mine.

Why did the Duke of Florence with such care

Labour your pardon? say.

LOD.

Italian beggars will resolue you that

[Page] Who, begging of an almes, bid those they beg of

Enter Monticelso.

Doe good for their owne sakes; or't may bee

Hee spreades his bountie with a sowing hand,

Like Kinges, who many times giue out of measure;

Not for desert so much as for their pleasure.

MON.

I know you're cunning. Come, what deuill was that

That you were raising?

LOD.

Deuill, my Lord?

I aske you.

MONT.

How doth the Duke imploy you, that his bonnet

Fell with such complement vnto his knee,

When hee departed from you?

LOD.

Why, my Lord,

Hee told mee of a restie Barbarie horse

Which he would faine haue brought to the carreere,

The 'sault, and the ring galliard. Now, my Lord,

I haue a rare French Rider.

MONT.

Take you heede:

Least the Iade breake your necke. Doe you put mee off

With your wild horse-trickes? Sirra you doe lie.

O, thou'rt a foule blacke cloud, and thou do'st threat

A violent storme.

LOD.

Stormes are 'ith aire, my Lord;

I am too low to storme.

MONT.

Wretched creature!

I know that thou art fashion'd for all ill,

Like dogges, that once get bloud, they'l euer kill.

About some murder? wa'st not?

LOD.

Ile not tell you;

And yet I care not greatly if I doe;

Marry with this preparation. Holie father,

I come not to you as an Intelligencer,

But as a penitent sinner. What I vtter

Is in confession meerely; which you know

Must neuer bee reueal'd.

MONT.

You haue oretane mee.

LOD.

Sir I did loue Brachiano's Dutchesse deerely;

Or rather I pursued her with hot lust,

Though shee nere knew on't. Shee was poyson'd;

Vpon my soule shee was: for which I haue sworne

T'auenge her murder.

MONT.

To the Duke of Florence?

LOD.

To him I haue.

MON.

Miserable Creature!

If thou persist in this, 'tis damnable.

Do'st thou imagine thou canst slide on bloud

[Page] And not be tainted with a shamefull fall?

Or like the blacke, and melancholicke Eugh-tree,

Do'st thinke to roote thy selfe in dead mens graues,

And yet to prosper? Instruction to thee

Comes like sweet shewers to ouer-hardned ground:

They wet, but peirce not deepe. And so I leaue thee

Withall the Furies hanging bout thy necke,

Till by thy penitence thou remoue this euill,

In coniuring from thy breast that cruell Deuill.

LOD.

I'le giue it o're. He saies 'tis damable:

Exit Mon.

Besides I did expect his suffrage,

By reason of Camillo's death.

Enter seruant

FRA.

Do you know that Count?

SER.

Yes, my Lord, & Francisco,

FRA.

Beare him these thousand Ducke [...]s to his lodging;

Tell him the Pope hath sent them. Happily

That will confirme more then all the rest.

SER.

Sir.

LOD.

To me sir?

SER.

His holinesse hath sent you a thousand Crownes,

And will you if you trauaile, to make him (commanded.

Your Patron for intelligence.

LOD.

His creature euer to bee

Why now 'tis come about. He rai'ld vpon me;

And yet these Crownes were told out and laid ready,

Before he knew my voiage. O the Art

The modest forme of greatnesse! that do sit

Like Brides at wedding dinners, with their look's turn'd

From the least wanton iests, their puling stomacke

Sicke of the modesty, when their thoughts are loose.

Euen acting of those hot and lustfull sports

Are to ensue about midnight: such his cunning!

Hee soundes my depth thus with a golden plummet,

I am doubly arm'd now. Now to th'act of bloud,

There's but three furies found in spacious hell;

But in a great mans breast three thousand dwell.

A passage ouer the stage of Brachiano, Flamineo, Marcello, Hortensio, Corombona, Cornelia, Zanche and others.

FLA.

In all the weary minutes of my life,

[Page] Day nere broke vp till now. This mariage.

Confirmes me happy.

HOR.

'Tis a good assurance.

Saw you not yet the Moore that's come to Court?

FLA.

Yes, and confer'd with him i'th Dukes closet,

I haue not seene a goodlier personage,

Nor euer talkt with man better experienc't

In State-affares or rudiments of warre.

Hee hath by report, seru'd the Venetian

In Candy these twice seuen yeares, and bene cheife

In many a bold designe.

HOR.

What are those two,

That beare him company?

FLA.

Two Noblemen of Hungary, that liuing in the Emperours seruice as commanders, eight yeares since, contrary to the expectation of all the Court entred into religion, into the strickt order of Capuchins: but being not well setled in their vndertaking they left their Order and returned to Court: for which being after troubled in conscience, they vowed their seruice against the enemies of Christ; went to Malta; were there knighted; and in their returne backe, at this great solemnity, they are resolued for euer to forsake the world, and settle themselues here in a house of Capuchines in Padua.

HOR.

'Tis strange.

FLA.

One thing makes it so. They haue vowed for euer to weare next their bare bodies those coates of maile they serued in.

HOR.

Hard penance.

Is the Moore a Christian?

FLA.

Hee is.

HOR.

Why proffers hee his seruice to our Duke?

FLV.

Because he vnderstands ther's like to grow

Some warres betweene vs and the Duke of Florence,

In which hee hopes imployment.

Enter Duke Brachiano.

I neuer saw one in a sterne bold looke

Weare more command, nor in a lofty phrase

Expresse more knowing, or more deepe contempt

Of our slight airy Courtiers. Hee talkes

As if hee had trauail'd all the Princes Courts

Of Christendome; in all things striues t'expresse,

That all that should dispute with him may know,

Glories, like glow-wormes, a farre off shine bright

[Page] But lookt to neare, haue neither heat norlight.

The Duke.

Enter Brachiano, Florence disguised like Mulinassar; Lodouico, Antonelli, Gaspar, Far [...]ese bearing their swordes and helmets.

BRA.

You'are nobly welcome. Wee haue heard at full

Your honourable seruice'gainst the Turke.

To you, braue Mulinassar, wee assigne

A competent pension: and are inly sorrow,

The vowes of those two worthie gentlemen,

Make them incapable of our proffer'd bountie.

Your wish is you may leaue your warlike swordes

For Monuments i n our Chappell. I accept it

As a great honour done mee, and must craue

Your leaue to furnish out our Dutchesse reuells.

Onely one thing, as the last vanitie

You ere shall view, denie mee not to stay

To see a Barriers prepar'd to night;

You shall haue priuate standings: It hath pleas'd

The great Ambassadours of seuerall Princes

In their returne from Rome to their owne Countries

To grace our marriage, and to honour mee

With such a kind of sport.

FRAN.

I shall perswade them

To stay, my Lord.

Exeunt Brachiano, Flamineo? and Marcello.

Set on there to the presence

CAR.

Noble my Lord, most fortunately wellcome,

The Conspirators here imbrace.

You haue our vowes seal'd with the sacrament

To second your attempts.

PED.

And all thinges readie.

Hee could not haue inuented his owne ruine,

Had hee despair'd with more proprietie.

LOD.

You would not take my way.

FRA.

'Tis better ordered.

LOD.

'T'haue poison'd his praier booke, or a paire of beades,

The pummell of his saddle, his looking-glasse,

Or th'handle of his racket, ô that, that!

That while he had bin bandying at Tennis,

He might haue sworne himselfe to hell, and strooke

His soule into the hazzard! O my Lord!

I would haue our plot bee ingenious,

[Page] And haue it hereafter recorded for example

Rather than borrow example.

FRAN.

There's no way

More speeding than this thought on.

LOD.

On then.

FRAN.

And yet mee thinkes that this reuenge is poore,

Because it steales vpon him like a theif,

To haue tane him by the Caske in a pitcht feild,

Led him to Florence!

LOD.

It had bin rare.—And there

Haue crown'd him with a wreath of stinking garlicke.

T'haue showne the sharpnesse of his gouernment;

Exeunt Lodouico Antonelli.

And rancknesse of his lust.

Flamineo comes.

Enter Flamineo, Marcello, and Zanche.

MAR.

Why doth this deuill haunt you? say.

FLA.

I know not.

For by this light I doe not coniure for her.

Tis not so great a cunning as men thinke

To raise the deuill: for heeres one vp allreadie,

The greatest cunning were to lay him downe

MAR.

Shee is your shame.

FLA.

I prethee pardon her.

In faith you see, women are like to burres;

Where their affection throwes them, there they'l sticke.

ZAN.

That is my Country-man, a goodly person;

When hee's at leisure Ile discourse with him

Exit Zanche

In our owne language.

FLA.

I beseech you doe,

How is 't' braue souldier; ô that I had seene

Some of your iron daies! I pray relate

Some of your seruice to vs.

FRAN.

T'is a ridiculous thing for a man to bee his owne Chronicle, I did neuer wash my mouth with mine owne praise for feare of getting a stincking breath.

MAR.

You 're too Stoicall. The Duke will expect other discourse from you

FRAN.

I shall neuer flatter him, I haue studied man to much to do that: What difference is betweene the Duke and I? no more than betweene two brickes; all made of one clay. Onely't may bee one is plac't on the top of a turret; the other in the bottom of a well by meere chance; if I were plac't as high as the Duke, I should sticke as fast; make as faire a shew; and beare out [Page] weather equally.

FLA.

If this souldier had a patent to beg in Churches, then hee would tell them stories,

MAR.

I haue bin a souldier too.

FRAN.

How haue you thriu'd?

MAR.

Faith poorely.

FRAN.

That's the miserie of peace. Onely outsides are then respected: As shippes seeme verie great vpon the riuer, which shew verie little vpon the Seas: So some men i'th Court seeme Colossusses in a chamber, who if they came into the feild would appeare pittifull. Pigmies.

FLA.

Giue mee a faire roome yet hung with Arras, and some great Cardinall to lug mee by th' eares as his endeared Minion.

FRA.

And thou maist doe, the deuill knowes what vilanie.

FLA.

And safely.

FRA.

Right; you shall see in the Countrie in haruest time, pigeons, though they destroy neuer so much corne, the farmer dare not present the fowling peece to them! why? because they belong to the Lord of the Mannor; whilest your poore sparrowes that belong to the Lord of heauen, they go to the pot for't.

FLA.

I will now giue you some polliticke instruction. The Duke saies hee will giue you pension; that's but bare promise: get it vnder his hand. For I haue knowne men that haue come from seruing against the Turke; for three or foure moneths they haue had pension to buy them new woodden legges and fresh plaisters; but after 'twas not to bee had. And this miserable curtesie shewes, as if a Tormenter should giue hot cordiall drinkes to one three quarters dead o'th' racke, onely to fetch the miserable soule againe to indure more dogdaies.

Enter Hortensio, a yong Lord, Zanche, and two more.

How now, Gallants; what are they readie for the Barriers?

Y. LORD.

Yes: the Lordes are putting on their armour.

HOR.

What's hee?

FLA.

A new vp-start: one that sweares like a Falckner, and will lye in the Dukes eare day by day like a maker of Almanacks; And yet I knew him since hee came to th' Court smell worse of sweat than an vnder-tennis-court keeper.

HOR.

Looke you, yonder's your sweet Mistresse.

[Page]FLA.

Thou art my sworne brother, I'le tell thee, I doe loue that Moore, that Witch very constrainedly: shee knowes some of my villanny; I do loue her, iust as a man holds a wolfe by the eares. But for feare of turning vpon mee, and pulling out my throate, I would let her go to the Deuill.

HOR.

I heare she claimes marriage of thee.

FLA.

'Faith, I made to her some such darke promise, and in seeking to flye from't I run on, like a frighted dog with a bottle at' staile, that faine would bite it off and yet dares not looke behind him. Now my pretious Gipsie!

ZAN.

I your loue to me rather cooles then heates.

FLA.

Marry, I am the sounder, louer, we haue many wenches about the Towne heate too fast.

HOR.

What do you thinke of these perfum'd Gallants then?

FLAM.

Their sattin cannot saue them. I am confident

They haue a certaine spice of the disease,

For they that sleep with dogs; shall rise with fleas.

ZAN.

Beleeue it! A little painting and gay clothes,

Make you loath me.

FLA.

How? loue a Lady for painting or gay apparell? I'le vnkennell one example more for thee. Esop had a foolish dog that let go the flesh to catch the shadow. I would haue Courtiers bee better Diuers.

ZAN.

You remember your oathes.

FLA.

Louers oathes are like Marriners prayers, vttered in extremity; but when the tempest is o're, and that the vessell leaues tumbling, they fall from protesting to drinking. And yet amongst Gentlemen protesting and drinking go together, and agree as well as Shooemakers and West-phalia bacon. They are both drawers on: for drinke drawes on protestation; and protestation drawes on more drinke. Is not this discourse better now then the mortality of your sun-burnt Gentleman.

Enter Cornelia.

COR.

Is this your pearch, you haggard? flye to'th stewes.

FLA.

You should be clapt by th'heeles now: strike i'th Court.

ZAN.

She's good for nothing but to make her maids,

Catch cold a nights; they dare not vse a bedstaffe,

For feare of her light fingers.

MAR.

Your'e a strumpet.

An impudent one.

FLA.

Why do you kicke her? say,

[Page] Do you thinke that she's like a walnut-tree?

Must she be cudgel'd ere shee beare good fruite?

Shee brags that you shall marry her.

FLA.

What then?

MAR.

I had rather she were pitcht vpon a stake

In some new-seeded garden, to affright

Her fellow crowes thence.

FLA.

Your a boy, a foole,

Be guardian to your hound, I am of age.

MAR.

If I take her neere you I'le cut her throate.

FLA.

With a fan of feathers?

MAR.

And for you; I'le whip

This folly from you.

FLAM.

Are you cholericke?

I'le purg't with Rubarbe.

HOR.

O your brother.

FLA.

Hang him.

Hee wrongs me most that ought t'offend mee least,

I do suspect my mother plaid soule play,

When she conceiu'd thee.

MAR.

Now by all my hopes.

Like the two slaughtred sonnes of Oedipus,

The very flames of our affection,

Shall turne 10 waies. Those words I'le make thee answere

With thy heart bloud.

FLA.

Doe like the geesse in the progresse,

You know where you shall finde mee,

MAR.

Very good,

And thou beest a noble, friend, beare him my sword,

And bid him fit the length on't.

Y. LORD.

Sir I shall.

ZAN.

He comes. Hence petty thought of my disgrace,

I neere lou'd my complexion till now,

Enter Francisco the Duke of Florence.

Cause I may boldly say without a blush,

I loue you.

FLA.

Your loue is vntimely sowen,

Ther's a Spring at Michaelmas, but 'tis but a faint one, I am sunck

In yeares, and I haue vowed neuer to marry.

ZAN.

Alas! poore maides get more louers then husbands,

Yet you may mistake my wealth. For, as when Embassadours are sent to congratulate Princes, there's commonly sent along with them a rich present; so that though the Prince like not the Embassadours person nor words, yet he likes well of the presentment. So I may come to you in the same maner, & be better loued for my dowry then my vertue.

FLA.

I'le thinke on the motion.

ZAN.

Do, Ile now detaine you no longer. At your better leasure I'le tell you things shall startle your bloud.

Nor blame me that this passion I reueale;

[Page] Louers dye inward that their flames conceale.

FLA.

Of all intelligence this may proue the best,

Sure I shall draw strange fowle, from this foule nest.

Exeunt.

Enter Marcello and Cornelia.

COR.

I heare a whispering all about the Court,

Your are to fight, who is your opposite?

What is the quarrell?

MRA.

'Tis an idle [...]umour.

COR.

Will you dissemble? sure you do not well

To fright me thus, you neuer look thus pale,

But when you are most angry. I do charge you

Vpon my blessing; nay I'le call the Duke,

And he shall schoole you.

MAR.

Publish not a feare

Which would conuert to laughter; 'tis not so,

Was not this Crucifix my fathers?

COR.

Yes.

MAR.

I haue heard you say, giuing my brother sucke,

Hee tooke the Crucifix betweene his hands,

Enter Flamineo,

And broke a limbe off.

COR.

Yes: but 'tis mended.

FLA.

I haue brought your weapon backe.

Flamineo runnes

COR.

Ha, O my horrour!

Marcello through.

MAR.

You haue brought it home indeed.

COR.

Helpe, oh he's murdered.

FLA.

Do you turne your gaule vp? I'le to sanctuary,

And send a surgeon to you.

HOR.

How? o'th ground?

MAR.

O mother now remember what I told,

Of breaking off the Crucifix: farewell

Enter Car. Hort. Pedro.

There are some sinnes which heauen doth duly punish,

In a whole family. This it is to rise

By all dishonest meanes. Let all men know

That tree shall long time keepe a steddy foote

Whose branches spread no wilder then the roote.

COR.

O my perpetuall sorrow!

HOR.

Vertuous Marcello.

Hee's dead: pray leaue him Lady; come, you shall.

COR.

Alas he is not dead: hee's in a trance.

Why here's no body shall get any thing by his death. Let me call him againe for Gods sake.

CAR.

I would you were deceiu'd.

COR.

O you abuse mee, you abuse me, you abuse me. How many haue gone away thus for lacke of tendance; reare vp's head, [Page] reare vp's head; His bleeding inward will kill him.

HOR.

You see hee is departed.

COR.

Let mee come to him; giue mee him as hee is, if hee bee turn'd to earth; let mee but giue him one heartie kisse, and you shall put vs both into one coffin: fetch a looking glasse, see if his breath will not staine it; or pull out some feathers from my pillow, and lay them to his lippes, will you loose him for a little paines taking?

HOR.

Your kindest office is to pray for him.

COR.

Alas! I would not pray for him yet. Hee may liue to lay mee ith' ground, and pray for mee, if you'l let mee come to him.

Enter Brachiano all armed, saue the beauer, with Flamineo.

BRA.

Was this your handy-worke?

FLA.

It was my misfortune.

COR.

Hee lies, hee lies, hee did not kill him: these haue kill'd him, that would not let him bee better look't to.

BRA.

Haue comfort my greiu'd Mother.

COR.

O you scritch-owle.

HOR.

Forbeare, good Madam.

COR.

Let mee goe, let mee goe.

Shee runes to Flamineo with her knif drawne and comming to him lets it fall.

The God of heauen forgiue thee. Do'st not wonder

I pray for thee? Ile tell thee what's the reason,

I haue scarce breath to number twentie minutes;

Ide not spend that in cursing. Fare thee well

Halfe of thy selfe lies there: and maist thou liue

To fill an howre-glasse with his mouldred ashes,

To tell how thou shouldst spend the time to come

In blest repentance.

BRA.

Mother, pray tell mee

How came hee by his death? what was the quarrell?

COR.

Indeed my yonger boy presum'd too much

Vpon his manhood; gaue him bitter wordes;

Drew his sword first; and so I know not how,

For I was out of my wits, hee fell with's head

Iust in my bosome.

PAGE.

This is not trew Madam.

COR.

I pray thee peace.

One arrow's graz'd allready; it were vaine

T'lose this: for that will nere bee found againe.

BRA.

Go, beare the bodie to Corneliá; lodging:

And wee commaund that none acquaint our Dutchesse:

[Page] With this sad accident: for you Flamineo,

Hearke you, I will not graunt your pardon.

FLA.

No?

BRA.

Onely a lease of your life. And that shall last

But for one day. Thou shalt be forc't each euening to renew it, or be hang'd.

FLA.

At your pleasure.

Lodouico sprinckles Brachiano's beuer with a poison.

Your will is law now, Ile not meddle with it.

BRA.

You once did braue mee in your sisters lodging;

I'le now keepe you in awe for't. Where's our beauer?

FRAN.

Hee cals for his destruction. Noble youth,

I pitty thy sad fate. Now to the barriers.

This shall his passage to the blacke lake further,

The last good deed hee did, he pardon'd murther.

Exeunt.

Charges and shoutes, They fight at Barriers; first single paires, then three to three.

Enter Brachiano & Flamineo with others.

BRA.

An Armorer? vds death an Armorer?

FLA.

Armorer; where's the Armorer?

BRA.

Teare off my beauer.

FLA.

Are you hurt, my Lord?

BRA.

O my braine's on fire,

Enter Armorer.

The helmet is poison'd.

ARM.

My Lord vpon my soule.

BRA.

Away with him to torture.

There are some great ones that haue hand in this,

And neere about me.

VIT.

O my loued Lord, poisoned?

FLA.

Remoue the barre: heer's vnfortunate reuls,

Call the Physitions; a plague vpon you;

Ent. 2 Physitian:

Wee haue to much of your cunning here already.

I feare the Embassadours are likewise poyson'd.

BRA.

Oh I am gone already: the infection

Flies to the braine and heart. O thou strong heart!

There's such a couenant 'tweene the world and it,

They're loath to breake.

GIO.

O my most loued father!

BRA.

Remoue the boy away,

Where's this good woman? had I infinite worlds

They were too little for thee. Must I leaue thee?

What say you scritch-owles, is the venomne mortall?

PHYS.

Most deadly.

BRA.

Most corrupted pollitick hangmā!

[Page] You kill without booke; but your art to saue

Failes you as oft, as great mens needy friends.

I that haue giuen life to offending slaues

And wretched murderers, haue I not power

To lengthen mine owne a twelue-month?

Do not kisse me, for I shall poyson thee.

This vnction is sent from the great Duke of Florence.

FRA.

Sir bee of comforts

BRA.

O thou soft naturall death, that art ioint-twin,

To sweetest slumber: no rough-bearded Comet,

Stares on thy milde departure: the dull Owle

Beates not against thy casement: the hoarse wolfe

Sents not thy carion. Pitty windes thy coarse,

Whilst horrour waights on Princes.

VIT.

I am lost for euer.

BRAC.

How miserable a thing it is to die,

'Mongst women howling! What are those.

FLA.

Franciscant.

They haue brought the extreame vnction.

BRA.

On paine of death, let no man name death to me,

It is a word infinitely terrible,

Withdraw into our Cabinet

Exeunt but Francisco and Flamineo.

FLA.

To see what solitarinesse is about dying Princes. As heretofore they haue vnpeopled Townes; diuorst friends, and made great houses vnhospitable: so now, ô iustice! where are their flatterers now? Flatterers are but the shadowes of Princes bodies the least thicke cloud makes them inuisible.

FRA.

There's great moane made for him.

FLA.

'Faith, for some few howers salt water will runne most plentifully in euery Office o'th Court. But beleeue it; most of them do but weepe ouer their step-mothers graues.

FRA.

How meane you?

FLA.

Why? They dissemble, as some men doe that liue within compasse o'th verge.

FRA.

Come you haue thriu'd well vnder him.

FLA.

'Faith, like a wolfe in a womans breast; I haue beene fed with poultry; but for money, vnderstand me, I had as good a will to cosen him, as e're an Officer of them all. But I had not cunning enough to doe it.

[Page]FRAN.

What did'st thou thinke of him; 'faith speake freely.

FLA.

Hee was a kinde of States-man, that would sooner haue reckond how many Cannon bullets he had discharged against a Towne, to count his expence that way, than how many of his valiant and deseruing subiects hee lost before it.

FRAN.

O, speake well of the Duke.

FLA.

I haue done.

Will't heare some of my Court wisedome?

Enter Lodouico.

To reprehend Princes is dangerous: and to ouer-commend some

of them is palpable lying.

FRAN.

How is it with the Duke?

LOD.

Most deadly ill.

Hee's fall'n into a strange distraction.

Hee talkes of Battailes and Monopolies,

Leuying of taxes, and from that descends

To the most brain-sicke language. His minde fastens

On twentie seuerall obiects, which confound

Deepe Sence with follie. Such a fearefull end

May teach some men that beare too loftie crest,

Though they liue happiest, yet they dye not best.

Hee hath conferr'd the whole State of the Dukedome

Vpon your sister, till the Prince arriue

At mature age.

FLA.

There's some good lucke in that yet.

FRAN.

See heere he comes.

Enter Brachiano, presented in a bed Uittoria and others.

There's death in's face allready.

VIT.

O my good Lord!

BRA.

Away, you haue abus'd mee.

You haue conuayd coyne forth our territories;

Bought and sold offices; oppres'd the poore,

These speches are seuerall kinds of distractions and in the action should appeare so.

And I nere dreampt on't. Make vp your accountes;

Ile now bee mine owne Steward.

FLA.

Sir, haue patience.

BRA.

Indeed I am too blame.

For did you euer heare the duskie rauen

Chide blacknesse? or wast euer knowne, the diuell

Raild against clouen Creatures.

VIT.

O my Lord!

BRA.

Let mee haue some quailes to supper.

FLA.

Sir, you shal.

BRA.

No: some fried dog-fish. Your Quailes feed on poison,

That old dog-fox, that Polititian Florence,

Ile forsweare hunting and turne dog-killer;

Rare! Ile bee frindes with him. for marke you, sir, one dog

[Page] Still sets another a barking: peace, peace,

Yonder's a fine slaue come in now.

FLA.

Where?

BRA.

Why there.

In a blew bonnet, and a paire of breeches

With a great codpeece. Ha, ha, ha,

Looke you his codpeece is stucke full of pinnes

With pearles o'th head of them. Doe not you know him?

FLA.

No, my Lord.

BRA.

Why 'tis the Deuill.

I know him by a great rose he weares on's shooe

To hide his clouen foot. Ile dispute with him.

Hee's a rare linguist.

VIT.

My Lord heer's nothing.

BRA.

Nothing? rare! nothing! when I want monie,

Our treasurie is emptie; there is nothing,

Ile not bee vs'd thus.

VIT.

O! 'ly still, my Lord

BRA.

See, see, Flamineo that kill'd his brother

Is dancing on the ropes there: and he carries

A monie-bag in each hand, to keepe him euen,

For feare of breaking's necke. And there's a Lawyer

In a gowne whipt with veluet, stares and gapes

When the mony will fall. How the rogue cuts capers!

It should haue bin in a halter.

'Tis there; what's shee?

FLA.

Uittoria, my Lord.

BRA.

Ha, ha, ha. Her haire is sprinckled with Arras powder, that makes her looke as if she had sinn'd in the Pastrie. What's hee?

FLA.

A Diuine my Lord.

BRA.

Hee will bee drunke: Auoid him: th' argument is fearefull when Church-men stagger in't.

Brachiano seemes heare neare his end. Lodouico & Gasparo in the habit of Capuchins present him in his bed with a Crucifix and hallowed candle.

Looke you; six gray rats that haue lost their tailes, crall vp the pillow, send for a Rat-cather.

Ile doe a miracle: Ile free the Court

From all foule vermin. Where's Flamineo?

FLA.

I doe not like that hee names mee so often,

Especially on's death-bed: 'tis a signe

I shall not liue long: see hee's neere his end.

LOD.

Pray giue vs leaue; Attende Domine Brachiane,

FLA.

See, see, how firmely hee doth fixe his eye

Vpon the Crucifix.

VIT.

O hold it constant.

[Page] It settles his wild spirits; and so his eies

Melt into teares.

LOD.

Domine Brachiane, solebas in bello tutus esse tuo clypeo, nùnc hunc clypeum hostituo opponas infernali.

[...] the Cru [...] Ex.

GAS.

Olim hasta valuisti in bello; nùnc hanc sacram hastam vibrabis contra hostem animarum.

[...]y the Ho [...]wed taper.

LOD.

Attende Domine Brachiane si nunc quòque probas ea quae acta sunt inter nos, flecte Caput in dex [...]rum.

GAS.

Esto securus Domine Brachiane: cogita quantum habeas meritorum denique memineris meam animam pro tua oppignoratem si quid esset periculi.

LOD.

Si nùnc quoque probas ea quae acta sunt inter nos, flecte caput in leuum.

Hee is departing: pray stand all apart,

And let vs onely whisper in his eares

Some priuate meditations, which our order

Heare therest being departed Lodouico and Gasparo discouer themselues.

Permits you not to heare.

GAS.

Brachiano.

LOD.

Deuill Brachiano.

Thou art damn'd.

GAS.

Perpetually.

LOD.

A slaue condemn'd, and giuen vp to the gallowes

Is thy great Lord and Master.

GAS.

True: for thou

Art giuen vp to the deuill.

LOD.

O you slaue!

You that were held the famous Pollititian;

Whose art was poison.

GAS.

And whose conscience murder.

LOD.

That would haue broke your wiues necke downe the staires ere she was poison'd.

GAS.

That had your villanous

LOD.

And fine imbrodered bottles, (sallets

And perfumes

Equally mortall with a winter plague

GAS.

Now there's Mercarie.

LOD.

And copperesse

GAS.

And quicke-siluer.

LOD.

With other deuelish potticarie stuffe

A melting in your polliticke braines: do'st heare.

GAS.

This is Count Lodouico.

LOD.

This Gasparo.

And thou shalt die like a poore rogue.

GAS.

And stinke

Like a dead flie-blowne dog.

LOD.

And be forgotten before thy sunerall sermon.

[Page]BRA.

Uittoria? Uittoria!

LOD.

O the cursed deuill,

Come to himselfe a gaine. Wee are vndone.

Enter Vittoria and the attend.

(againe

GAS.

Strangle him in priuate. What? will you call him

To liue in treble torments? for charitie,

For Christian charitie, auoid the chamber.

LOD.

You would prate, Sir. This is a true-loue knot

Sent from the Duke of Florence.

Brachiano is strangled

GAS.

What is it done?

LOD.

The snuffe is out. No woman-keeper i'ch world,

Though shee had practis'd seuen yere at the Pest-house,

Could haue done't quaintlyer. My Lordes hee's dead.

OMN.

Rest to his soule.

VIT.

O mee! this place is hell.

Exit Vittoria.

FLO.

How heauily shee takes it.

FLA.

O yes, yes;

Had women nauigable riuers in their eies

They would dispend them all; surely I wonder

Why wee should wish more riuers to the Cittie,

When they sell water so good cheape. Ile tell thee,

These are but Moonish shades of greifes or feares,

There's nothing sooner drie than womens-teares.

Why heere's an end of all my haruest, hee has giuen mee nothing

Court promises! Let wisemen count them curst

For while you liue hee that scores best paies worst.

FLO.

Sure, this was Florence doing.

FLA.

Very likelie.

Those are found waightie strokes which come from th'hand,

But those are killing strokes which come from th'head.

O the rare trickes of a Machiuillian!

Hee doth not come like a grosse plodding slaue

And buffet you to death: No, my quaint knaue,

Hee tickles you to death; makes you die laughing;

As if you had swallow'd downe a pound of saffron

You see the seat, 'tis practis'd in a trice

To teach Court-honestie, it iumpes on Ice.

FLO.

Now haue the people libertie to talke

And descant on his vices.

FLA.

Miserie of Princes,

That must of force bee censur'd by their slaues!

[Page] Not onely blam'd for doing things are ill,

But for not doing all that all men will.

One were better be a thresher.

Vds'death, I would faine speake with this Duke yet.

FLO.

Now hee's dead?

FLAM.

I cannot coniure; but if praiers or oathes

VVill get to th'speech of him: though forty deuils

VVaight on him in his liuery of flames,

I'le speake to him, and shake him by the hand,

Though I bee blasted.

FRA

Excellent Lodouico!

VVhat? did you terrifie him at the last gaspe?

Exit Flamineo.

LOD.

Yes; and so idely, that the Duke had like

T'haue terrified vs.

FRA.

How?

Enter the Moore.

LOD.

You shall heare that heareafter,

See! yon's the infernall, that would make vp sport.

Now to the reuelation of that secret,

Shee promi'st when she fell in loue with you.

FLO.

You're passionately met in this sad world.

MOO.

I would haue you look vp, Sir; these Court teares

Claime not your tribute to them. Let those weepe

That guiltily pertake in the sad cause.

I knew last night by a sad dreame I had

Some mischiefe would insue; yet to say truth

My dreame most concern'd you.

LOD.

Shal's fall a dreaming?

FRA.

Yes, and for fashion sake Ile dreame with her.

MOO.

Mee thought sir, you came stealing to my bed.

FRA.

VVilt thou beleeue me sweeting; by this light

I was a dreampt on thee too: for me thought

I saw thee naked

MOO.

Fy sir! as I told you,

Me thought you lay downe by me.

FRA.

So drempt I;

And least thou should'st take cold, I couer'd thee

VVith this Irish mantle.

MOO.

Verily I did dreame,

You were some what bold with me; but to come to't.

LOD.

How? how? I hope you will not go to there.

FRA.

Nay: you must heare my dreame out.

[Page]MOORE.

VVell, sir, forth.

FRA.

VVhen I threw the mantle ore thee, thou didst laugh

Exceedingly me thought.

MOORE.

Laugh?

FLA.

And cridst out,

The haire did tickle thee.

MOO.

There was a dreame indeed.

LOD.

Marke her I prethee, shee simpers like the suddes

A Collier hath bene washt in.

MOO.

Come, sir; good fortune tends you; I did tell you

I would reueale a secret, Isabella

The Duke of Florence sister was impoison'd,

By a 'fum'd picture: and Camillo's necke

Was broke by damn'd Flamineo; the mischance

Laid on a vaulting horse.

FRA.

Most strange!

MOO.

Most true.

LOD.

The bed of snakes is broke.

MOO.

I sadly do confesse I had a hand

In the blacke deed.

FRA.

Thou kepts their counsell,

MOO.

Right,

For which, vrg'd with contrition, I intend

This night to rob Vittoria.

LOD.

Excellent penitence!

Vsurers dreame on't while they sleepe out Sermons.

MOO.

To further our escape, I haue entreated

Leaue to retire me, till the funerall,

Vnto a friend i'th country. That excuse

Will further our escape, In coine and iewels

I shall, at least, make good vnto your vse

An hundred thousand crowns.

FRA.

O noble wench!

LOD.

Those crownes we'le share.

MOO.

It is a dowry,

Me thinkes, should make that sun-burnt prouerbe false,

And wash the Ethiop white.

FRA.

It shall, away

MOO.

Be ready for our flight.

FRA.

An howre 'fore day.

O strange discouery! why till now we knew not

Exit the Moore.

The circumstance of either of their deaths.

Enter Moore.

MOO.

You'le waight about midnight

In the Chappel.

FRA.

There.

LOD.

Why now our action's iustified,

FRA.

Tush for iustice.

What harmes it Iustice? we now, like the partridge

[Page] Purge the disease with lawrell: for the fame

Shall crowne the enterprise and quit the shame.

Exeunt.

Enter Flam. and Gasp. at one dore, another way Giouanni attended.

GAS.

The yong Duke: Did you e're see a sweeter Prince?

FLA.

I haue knowne a poore womans bastard better fauor'd, This is behind him: Now, to his face all cōparisons were hateful: Wise was the Courtly Peacocke, that being a great Minion, and being compar'd for beauty, by some dottrels that stood by, to the Kingly Eagle, said the Eagle was a farre fairer bird then herselfe, not in respect of her feathers, but in respect of her long Tallants. His will grow out in time,

My gratious Lord.

GIO.

I pray leaue mee Sir.

FLA.

Your Grace must be merry: 'tis I haue cause to mourne, for wot you what said the little boy that rode behind his father on horsebacke?

GIO.

Why, what said hee?

FLA.

When you are dead father (said he) I hope then I shall ride in the saddle, O 'tis a braue thing for a man to sit by himselfe: he may stretch himselfe in the stirrops, looke about, and see the whole compasse of the Hemisphere, you're now, my Lord, ith saddle.

GIO.

Study your praiers, sir, and be penitent,

'Twere fit you'd thinke on what hath former bin,

I haue heard griefe nam'd the eldest child of sinne.

Exit Giou.

FLA.

Study my praiers? he threatens me diuinely,

I am falling to peeces already, I care not, though, like Anacharsis

I were pounded to death in a mortar. And yet that death were fitter for Vsurers gold and themselues to be beaten together, to make a most cordiall cullice for the deuill.

He hath his vnckles villanous looke already,

Enter Courtier.

In dicimo sexto. Now sir, what are you?

COVR

It is the pleasure sir, of the yong Duke

That you forbeare the Presence, and all roome,

That owe him reuerence.

FLAM.

So, the wolfe and the rauen are very pretty fools when they are yong. Is it your office, sir, to keepe me out?

COVR.

So the Duke wils.

FLA.

Verely, Maister Courtier, extreamity is not to bee vsed [Page] in all offices: Say that a gentlewoman were taken out of her bed about midnight, and committed to Castle Angelo, to the Tower yonder, with nothing about her, but her smocke: would it not shew a cruell part in the gentleman porter to lay clame to her vpper garment, pull it ore her head and eares; and put her in nak'd?

COVR.

Very good: you are merrie

FLA.

Doth hee make a Court eiectment of mee? A flaming firebrand casts more smoke without a chimney, then withint. Ile smoore some of them.

Enter Florence.

How now? Thou hart sad.

FRAN.

I met euen now with the most pitious sight.

FLA.

Thou metst another heare a pittifull

Degraded Courtier.

FRAN.

Your reuerend mother

Is growne a very old woman in two howers.

I found them winding of Marcello's coarse;

And there is such a solemne melodie

'Tweene dolefull songes, teares, and sad elegies:

Such, as old grandames, watching by the dead,

Were wont t'out-weare the nights with; that beleeue mee

I had no eies to guide mee forth the roome,

They were so ore-charg'd with water.

FLA.

I will see them.

FRAN.

'Twere much vncharety in you: for your sight

Will adde vnto their teares.

FLA.

I will see them.

They are behind the trauers. Ile discouer

Their superstitious howling.

Cornelia, the Moore and 3. other Ladies discouered, winding Marcello's Coarse. A song.

COR.

This rosemarie is wither'd, pray get fresh;

I would haue these herbes grow vp in his graue

When I am dead and rotten. Reach the bayes,

Ile tye a garland heere about his head:

'Twill keepe my boy from lightning. This sheet

I haue kept this twentie yere, and euerie daie

Hallow'd it with my praiers, I did not thinke

Hee should haue wore it.

MOO.

Looke you; who are yonder.

COR.

O reach mee the flowers.

MOO.

Her Ladiships foolish.

WOM.

Alas! her grief

[Page] Hath turn'd her child againe.

COR.

You're very wellcome.

There's Rosemarie for you, and Rue for you,

to Flamineo.

Hearts-ease for you. I pray make much of it.

I haue left more for my selfe.

FRAN.

Ladie, who's this?

COR.

You are, I take it, the graue-maker.

FLA.

So.

MOO.

'Tis Flamineo.

COR.

Will you make mee such a foole? heere's a white hand:

Can bloud so soone bee washt out? Let mee see,

When scritch-howles croke vpon the chimney tops,

And the strange Cricketith ouen singes and hoppes,

When yellow spots doe on your handes appeare,

Bee certaine then you of a Course shall heare.

Out vpon't, how 'tis speckled! h'as handled a toad sure.

Couslep-water is good for the memorie: pray buy mee 3. ounces of't.

FLA.

I would I were from hence.

COR.

Do you heere,

Ile giue you a saying which my grandmother (sir?

Was wont, when she heard the bell tolle, to sing ore vnto her lute

FLA.

Doe and you will, doe.

COR.

Call for the Robin-Red-brest and the wren,

Since ore shadie groues they houer,

Cornelia doth this in seuerall formes of distraction.

And with leaues and flowres doe couer

The friendlesse bodies of vnburied men.

Call vnto his funerall Dole

The Ante, the field-mouse, and the mole

To reare him hillockes, that shall keepe him warme,

And (when gay tombes are rob'd) sustaine no harme,

But keepe the wolfe far thence: that's foe to men,

For with his nailes hee'ldig them vp agen.

They would not bury him' cause hee died in a quarrell

But I haue an answere for them.

Let holie Church receiue him duly

Since hee payd the Church tithes truly.

His wealth is sum'd, and this is all his store:

This poore men get; and great men get no more.

Now the wares are gone, wee may shut vp shop.

Blesse you all good people,

Exeunt Cornelia and Ladies.

FLA.

I haue a strange thing in mee, to th' which

[Page] I cannot giue a name, without it bee

Compassion, I pray leaue mee.

Exit Francisco.

This night Ile know the vt most of my fate▪

Ile bee resolu'd what my rich sister meanes

T'assigne mee for my seruice: I haue liu'd

Riotously ill, like some that liue in Court.

And sometimes, when my face was full of smiles▪

Haue felt the mase of conscience in my brest.

Oft gay and honour'd robes those tortures trie,

"Wee thinke cag'd birds sing, when indeed they crie.

Ha! I can stand thee. Neerer, neerer yet.

Enter Brachia. Ghost.

In his leather Cassoc [...] & breeches bootes, acoo [...] a pot of lilly flowers wit [...] a scullint.

What a mockerie hath death made of thee? thou look'st sad.

In what place art thou? in you starrie gallerie,

Or in the cursed dungeon? No? not speake?

Pray, Sir, resolue mee, what religions best

For a man to die in? or is it in your knowledge

To answere mee how long I haue to liue?

That's the most necessarie question.

Not answere? Are you still like some great men

That onely walke like shadowes vp and downe,

And to no purpose: say:—

The Ghost throwes ear vpon him a [...] shewes him the scull.

What's that? O fatall! hee throwes earth vpon mee▪

A dead mans scull beneath the rootes of flowers.

I pray speake Sir, our Italian Church-men

Make vs beleue, dead men hold conference

With their familiars, and many times

Will come to bed to them, and eat with them.

Exit Ghost.

Hee's gone; and see, the scull and earth are vanisht.

This is beyond melancholie. I doe dare my fate

To doe its worst. Now to my sisters lodging,

And summe vp all these horrours; the disgrace

The Prince threw on mee; next the pitious sight

Of my dead brother; and my Mothers dotage;

And last this terrible vision. All these

Shall with Vittoria's bountie turne to good,

Or I will drowne this weapon in her blood.

Exit.

Enter Francisco, Lodouico, and Hortensio.

[Page]LOD.

My Lord vpon my soule you shall no further:

You haue most ridiculously ingag'd your selfe

Too far allready. For my part, I haue payd

All my debts, so if I should chance to fall

My Creditours fall not with mee; and I vow

To quite all in this bold assemblie

To the meanest follower. My Lord leaue the Cittie,

Or Ile forsweare the murder.

FRAN.

Farewell Lodouico.

If thou do'st perish in this glorious act,

Ile reare vnto thy memorie that fame

Shall in the ashes keepe aliue thy name.

HOR.

There's some blacke deed on foot. Ile presently

Downe to the Citadell, and raise some force.

These strong Court factions that do brooke no checks,

In the cariere of't breake the Riders neckes.

FLA.

What are you at your prayers? Giue [...]e.

Enter Vittoria with a booke in her hand. Zanke, Flamineo, following them.

VIT.

How Ruffin?

FLA.

I come to you 'bout worldly businesse:

Sit downe, sit downe: Nay stay blouze, you may heare it,

The dores are fast inough.

VIT.

Ha, are you drunke?

FLA.

Yes, yes, with wormewood water, you shall tast

Some of it presently.

VIT.

What intends the fury?

FLA.

You are my Lords Executrix, and I claime

Reward, for my long seruice.

VIT.

For your seruice

FLA.

Come therfore heere is pen and Inke, set downe

What you will giue me.

VIT.

There,

FLA.

Ha! haue you done already,

Shee writes.

'Tis a most short conueyance.

VIT.

I will read it.

I giue that portion to thee, and no other

Which Caine gron'd vnder hauing slaine his brother.

FLA.

A most courtly Pattent to beg by.

VIT.

You are a villaine.

FLA.

Is't come to this? the say affrights cure agues:

Thou hast a Deuill in thee; I will try

If I can scarre him from thee: Nay sit still:

My Lord hath left me yet two case of Iewels

Shall make me scorne your bounty; you shall see thē.

[Page]VIT.

Sure hee's distracted.

ZAN.

O he's desperate

He enter with two of pistol [...]

For your owne safety giue him gentle language.

FLA.

Looke, these are better far at a dead list,

Then all your iewell house.

VIT.

And yet mee thinkes,

These stones haue no faire lustre, they are ill set.

FLA.

I'le turne the right side towards you: you shall see how the will sparkle.

VIT.

Turne this horror from mee:

What do you want? what would you haue mee doe?

Is not all mine, yours? haue I any children?

FLA.

Pray theee good woman doe not trouble mee

With this vaine wordly businesse; say your prayers,

I made a vow to my deceased Lord,

Neither your selfe, nor I should out-liue him,

The numbring of foure howers.

VIT.

Did he enioyne it.

FLA.

He did, and 'twas a deadly iealousy,

Least any should enioy thee after him;

That vrg'd him vow me to it: For my death

I did propound it voluntarily, knowing

If hee could not be safe in his owne Court

Being a great Duke, what hope then for vs?

VIT.

This is your melancholy and dispaire.

FLA.

Away,

Foole, thou art to thinke that Polititians

Do vse to kill the effects of iniuries

And let the cause liue: shall we groane in irons,

Or be a shamefull and a waighty burthen

To a publicke scaffold: This is my resolue

I would not liue at any mans entreaty

Nor dye at any's bidding.

VIT.

Will you heare me?

FLA.

My life hath done seruice to other men,

My death shall serue mine owne turne; make you ready

VIT.

Do you meane to die indeed.

FLA.

With as much pleasure

As e're my father gat me.

VIT.

Are the dores lockt?

ZAN.

Yes Madame.

VIT.

Are you growne an Atheist? will you turne your body,

Which is the goodly pallace of the soule

To the soules slaughter house? ô the cursed Deuill

[Page] Which doth present vs with all other sinnes

Thrice candied ore; Despaire with gaule and stibium,

Yet we carouse it off; Cry out for helpe,

Makes vs forsake that which was made for Man,

The world, to sinke to that was made for deuils,

Eternall darkenesse.

ZAN.

Helpe, helpe.

FLA.

I'le stop your

With Winter plums,

VIT.

I prethee yet remember, (throate

Millions are now in graues, which at last day

Like Mandrakes shall rise shreeking.

FLA.

Leaue your prating,

For these are but grammaticall laments,

Feminine arguments, and they moue me

As some in Pulpits moue their Auditory

More with their exclamation then sence

Of reason, or sound Doctrine.

ZAN.

Gentle Madam

Seeme to consent, onely perswade him teach

The way to death; let him dye first.

VIT.

'Tis good, I apprehend it,

To kill one's selfe is meate that we must take

Like pils, not chew't, but quickly swallow it,

The smart a'th wound, or weakenesse of the hand

May else bring trebble torments.

FLA.

I haue held it

A wretched and most miserable life,

Which is not able to dye.

VIT.

O but frailty!

Yet I am now resolu'd, farewell affliction;

Behold Brachiano, I that while you liu'd

Did make a flaming Altar of my heart

To sacrifice vnto you; Now am ready

To sacrifice heart and all. Fare-well Zanche.

ZAN.

How Madam! Do you thinke that I'le out-liue you?

Especially when my best selfe Flamineo

Goes the same voiage.

FLA.

O most loued Moore!

ZAN.

Onely by all my loue let me entreat you;

Since it is most necessary none of vs

Do violence on our selues; let you or I

Be her sad taster, teach her how to dye.

FLA.

Thou dost instruct me nobly, take these pistols,

Because my hand is stain'd with bloud already:

[Page] Two of these you shall leuell at my brest,

Th'other gainst your owne, and so we'le dye,

Most equally contented: But first sweare

Not to out-liue me.

VIT. & MOO.

Most religiously.

FLA.

Then here's an end of me: fare-well day-light

And ô contemtible Physike! that dost take

So long a study, onely to preserue

So short a life, I take my leaue of thee.

These are two cupping-glasses, that shall draw

Shewing pistols.

All my infected bloud out,

Are you ready?

BOTH.

Ready.

FLA.

Whither shall I go now? O Lucian thy ridiculous Purgatory to finde Alexander the great cobling shooes, Pompey tagging points, and Iulius Caesar; making haire buttons, Haniball selling blacking, and Augustus crying garlike, Charlemaigne selling lists by the dozen, and King Pippin crying Apples in a cart drawn with one horse.

Whether I resolue to Fire, Earth, water, Aire,

Or all the Elements by scruples; I know not

Nor greatly care,—Shoote, shoote,

Of all deaths the violent death is best,

For from our selues it steales our selues so fast

They shoot and run to him & tr [...] vpon him.

The paine once apprehended is quite past.

VIT.

What are you drop't.

FLA.

I am mixt with Earth already: As you are Noble Performe your vowes, and brauely follow mee.

VIT.

Whither to hell,

ZAN.

To most assured damnation.

VIT.

O thou most cursed deuill.

ZAN.

Thou art caught

VIT.

In thine owne Engine, I tread the fire out

That would haue bene my ruine.

FLA.

Will you be periur'd? what a religious oath was Stix that the Gods neuer durst sweare by and violate? ô that wee had such an oath to minister, and to be so well kept in our Courts of Iustice.

VIT.

Thinke whither thou art going.

ZAN.

And remēber

What villanies thou hast acted.

VIT.

This thy death,

Shall make me like a blazing ominous starre,

Looke vp and tremble.

FLA.

O I am caught with a springe!

[Page]VIT.

You see the Fox comes many times short ho me,

'Tis here prou'd true.

FLA.

Kild with a couple of braches.

VIT.

No fitter offring for the infernall furies

Then one in whom they raign'd while hee was liuing.

FLA.

O the waies darke and horrid! I cannot see,

Shall I haue no company?

VIT.

O yes thy sinnes,

Do runne before thee to fetch fire from hell,

To light thee thither.

FLA.

O I smell soote, most sinking soote, the chimneis a fire,

My liuers purboil'd like scotch holly-bread;

There's a plumber, laying pipes in my guts, it scalds;

Wilt thou out-liue mee?

ZAN.

Yes, and driue a stake

Through thy body; for we'le giue it out,

Thou didst this violence vpon thy selfe.

FLA.

O cunning Deuils! now I haue tri'd your loue,

And doubled all your reaches. I am not wounded:

Flamineo riseth.

The pistols held no bullets: 'twas a plot

To proue your kindnesse to mee; and I liue

To punish your ingratitude, I knew

One time or other you would finde a way

To giue me a strong potion, ò Men

That lye vpon your death-beds, and are haunted

With howling wiues, neere trust them, they'le re-marry

Ere the worme peirce your winding sheete: ere the Spider

Make a thinne curtaine for your Epitaphes.

How cunning you were to discharge? Do you practise at the Artillery yard? Trust a woman; neuer, neuer; Brachiano bee my president: we lay our soules to pawne to the Deuill for a little pleasure, and a woman makes the bill of sale. That euer man should marry! For one Hypermnestra that sau'd her Lord and husband, forty nine of her sisters cut their husbands throates all in one night. There was a shole of vertuous horse-leeches.

Here are two other Instruments.

Enter Lod. Gasp. Pedro, Carlo.

VIT.

Helpe, helpe.

FLA.

What noise is that? hah? falce keies i'th Court.

LOD.

We haue brought you a Maske.

FLA.

A matachine it

By your drawne swords. (seemes,

[Page] Chuch-men turn'd reuellers.

CON.

Isabella, Isabella,

LOD.

Doe you know vs now?

FLA.

Lodouico and Gasparo.

LOD.

Yes and that Moore the Duke gaue pention to

Was the great Duke of Florence.

VIT.

O wee are lost.

FLA.

You shall not take Iustice from forth my hands,

O let me kill her.—Ile cut my safty

Through your coates of steele: Fate's a Spaniell,

Wee cannot beat it from vs: what remaines now?

Let all that doe ill, take this president:

Man may his Fate foresce, but not preuent.

And of all Axiomes this shall winne the prise,

'Tis better to be fortunate then wise.

GAS.

Bind him to the pillar.

VIT.

O your gentle pitty:

I haue seene a black-bird that would sooner fly

To a mans bosome, then to stay the gripe

Of the feirce Sparrow-hawke.

GAS.

Your hope deceiues you.

VIT.

If Florence be ith Court, would hee would kill mee.

GAS.

Foole! Princes giue rewards with their owne hands,

But death or punishment by the handes of others.

LOD.

Sirha you once did strike mee, Ile strike you

Into the Center.

FLA.

Thoul't doe it like a hangeman; a base hangman;

Not like a noble fellow, for thou seest

I cannot strike againe.

LOD.

Dost laugh?

FLA.

Wouldst haue me dye, as I was borne, in whining.

GAS.

Recommend your selfe to heauen.

FLA.

Noe I will carry mine owne commendations thither.

LOD.

Oh could I kill you forty times a day

And vs't foure yeere together; 'tweare to little:

Nought greeu's but that you are to few to feede

The famine of our vengeance. What dost thinke on?

FLA.

Nothing; of nothing: leaue thy idle questions;

I am ith way to study a long silence,

To prate were idle, I remember nothing.

Thers nothing of so infinit vexation

As mans owne thoughts.

LOD.

O thou glorious strumpet,

Could I deuide thy breath from this pure aire▪

[Page] When't leaues thy body, I would sucke it vp

And breath't vpon some dunghill.

VIT.

You, my Deaths man;

Me thinkes thou doest not looke horrid enough,

Thou hast to good a face to be a hang-man,,

If thou be doe thy office in right forme;

Fall downe vpon thy knees and aske forgiuenesse.

LOD.

O thou hast bin a most prodigious comet,

But Ile cut of your traine: kill the Moore first.

VIT.

You shall not kill her first. behould my breast,

I will be waited on in death; my seruant

Shall neuer go before mee.

GAS.

Are you so braue.

VIT.

Yes I shall wellcome death

As Princes doe some great Embassadors; Ile meete thy weapon halfe way.

LOD.

Thou dost tremble,

Mee thinkes feare should dissolue thee into ayre.

VIT.

O thou art deceiu'd, I am to true a woman:

Conceit can neuer kill me: Ile tell thee what,

I will not in my death shed one base teare,

Or if looke pale, for want of blood, not feare.

CAR.

Thou art my taske, blacke fury.

ZAN.

I haue blood

As red as either of theirs; wilt drinke some?

'Tis good for the falling sicknesse: I am proud

Death cannot alter my complexion,

For I shall neere looke pale.

LOD.

Strike, strike,

With a Ioint motion.

VIT.

'Twas a manly blow

The next thou giu'st, murder some sucking Infant,

And then thou wilt be famous.

FLA.

O what blade ist?

A Toledo, or an English Fox.

I euer thought a Cutler should distinguish

The cause of my death, rather then a Doctor.

Search my wound deeper: tent it with the steele that made it.

VIT.

O my greatest sinne lay in my blood.

Now my blood paies for't.

FLA.

Th'art a noble sister

I loue thee now; if woeman doe breed man

Shee ought to teach him manhood: Fare thee well.

Know many glorious woemen that are fam'd

For masculine vertue, haue bin vitious

[Page] Onely a happier silence did betyde them

Shee hath no faults, who hath the art to hide them.

VIT.

My soule, like to a ship in a blacke storme,

Is driuen I know not whither.

FLA.

Then cast ancor.

"Prosperity doth bewitch men seeming cleere,

"But seas doe laugh, shew white, when Rocks are neere.

"Wee cease to greiue, cease to be fortunes slaues,

"Nay cease to dye by dying. Art thou gonne▪

And thou so neare the bottome: falce reporte

Which saies that woemen vie with the nine Muses

For nine tough durable liues: I doe not looke

Who went before, nor who shall follow mee;

Noe, at my selfe I will begin and end:

"While we looke vp to heauen wee confound

"Knowledge with knowledge. ô I am in a mist.

VIT.

O happy they that neuer saw the Court,

"Nor euer knew great Man but by report.

Vittoria dyes.

FLA,

I recouer like a spent taper, for a flash

And instantly go out.

Let all that belong to Great men remember th' ould wides tradition, to be like the Lyons ith Tower on Candlemas day, to mourne if the Sunne shine, for feare of the pittifull remainder of winter to come.

'Tis well yet there's some goodnesse in my death,

My life was a blacke charnell: I haue cought

An euerlasting could. I haue lost my voice

Most irrecouerably: Farewell glorious villaines,

"This busie trade of life appeares most vaine,

"Since rest breeds rest, where all seeke paine by paine.

Let no harsh flattering Bels resound my knell,

Strike thunder, and strike lowde to my farewell.

Dyes.

Enter Embassad: and Giouanni.

ENG. and E.

This way, this way, breake ope the doores, this way.

LOD.

Ha, are wee betraid;

Why then lets constantly dye all together,

And hauing finisht this most noble deede,

Defy the worst of fate; not feare to bleed.

[Page]ENG.

Keepe backe the Prince, shoot, shoot,

LOD.

O I am wounded.

I feare I shall be tane.

GIO.

You bloudy villaines,

By what authority haue you committed

This Massakre.

LOD.

By thine.

GIO.

Mine?

LOD.

Yes, thy vnckle, which is a part of thee enioyn'd vs to't.

Thou knowst me I am sure, I am Cout Lodowicke,

And thy most noble vnckle in disguise

Was last night in thy Court.

GIO.

Ha!

CAR.

Yes, that Moore thy father chose his pentioner.

GIO.

He turn'd murderer;

Away with them to prison, and to torture;

All that haue hands in this, shall tast our iustice,

As I hope heauen.

LOD.

I do glory yet,

That I can call this act mine owne: For my part,

The racke, the gallowes, and the torturing wheele

Shall bee but sound sleepes to me, here's my rest

"I limb'd this night-peece and it was my best.

GIO.

Remoue the bodies, see my honoured Lord,

what vse you ought make of their punishment.

Let guilty men remember their blacke deedes,

Do leane on cruthes, made of slender reedes.

In stead of an Epilogue onely this of Martial supplies me.

Haec fuerint nobis praemia si placui.

§

§

[Page]

[Page]

THE WHITE DIVEL, OR, The Tragedy of Paulo Giordano Ursini, Duke of Brachiano, With The Life and Death of Vittoria Corombona the famous Venetian Curtizan.

Acted by the Queenes Maiesties Seruants.

Written by IOHN WEBSTER.

Non inferiora secutus.

LONDON, Printed by N. O. for Thomas Archer, and are to be sold at his Shop in Popes head Pallace, neere the Royall Exchange. 1612.

To the Reader.

[Page]

[Page]

IN publishing this Tragedy, I do but challenge to my selfe that liberty, which other men haue tane before mee; not that I affect praise by it, for, nos haec nouimus esse nihil, onely since it was acted, in so dull a time of Winter, presented in so open and blacke a Theater, that it wanted (that which is the onely grace and setting out of a Tragedy) a full and vnderstanding Auditory: and that since that time I haue noted, most of the people that come to that Play-house, resemble those ignorant asses (who visiting Stationers shoppes their vse is not to inquire for good bookes, but new bookes) I present it to the generall view with this confidence.

Nec Rhoncos metues, maligniorum,

Nec Scombris tunicas, dabis molestas.

If it be obiected this is no true Drammaticke Poem, I shall easily confesse it, non potes in nugas dicere plura meas: Ipse ego quam dixi, willingly, and not ignorantly, in this kind haue I faulted: for should a man present to such an Auditory, the most sententious Tragedy that euer was written, obseruing all the critticall lawes, as heighth of stile; and grauety of person; inrich it with the sententious Chorus, and as it [Page] were life'n Death, in the passionate and waighty Nuntius: yet after all this diuine rapture, O dura messorum ilia, the breath that comes frō the vncapable multitude, is able to poison it, and ere it be acted, let the Author resolue to fix to euery scoene, this of Horace,

—Haec hodie Porcis comedenda relinques.

To those who report I was a long time in finishing this Tragedy, I confesse I do not write with a goose-quill, winged with two feathers, and if they will needes make it my fault, I must answere them with that of Eurypides to Alcestides, a Tragicke Writer: Alcestides obiecting that Eurypides had onely in three daies composed three verses, whereas himselfe had written three hundreth: Thou telst truth, (quoth he) but heres the difference, thine shall onely bee read for three daies, whereas mine shall continue three ages.

Detraction is the sworne friend to ignorance: For mine owne part I haue euer truly cherisht my good opinion of other mens worthy Labours, especially of that full and haightned stile of Maister Chapman. The labor'd and vnderstanding workes of Maister Iohnson: The no lesse worthy composures of the both worthily excellent Maister Beamont, & Maister Fletcher: And lastly (without wrong last to be named) the right happy and copious industry of M. Shake-speare, M. Decker, & M. Heywood, wishing what I write may be read by their light: Protesting, that, in the strength of mine owne iudgement, I know them so worthy, that though I rest silent in my owne worke, yet to most of theirs I dare (without flattery) fix that of Martiall.

—non norunt, Haec monumenta mori.

§

§

For the action of the play, twas generally well, and I dare affirme, with the Ioint testimony of some of their owne quality, (for the true imitation of life, without striuing to make nature a monster) the best that euer became them: whereof as I make a generall acknowledgement, so in particular I must remember the well approued industry of my freind Maister Perkins, and confesse the worth of his action did Crowne both the beginning and end.

FINIS.

[Page]

Information about this book

Title statement

The white diuel, or, The tragedy of Paulo Giordano Vrsini, Duke of Brachiano with the life and death of Vittoria Corombona the famous Venetian curtizan. Acted by the Queenes Maiesties Seruants. Written by Iohn Webster.

Webster, John, 1580?-1625?

Edition statement

1612

Publication

Publisher

Text Creation Partnership,

Place of publication

Ann Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) :

Date

2003-05 (EEBO-TCP Phase 1).

ID [DLPS]

A14875

ID [STC]

STC 25178

ID [STC]

ESTC S111501

ID [EEBO-CITATION]

99846829

ID [PROQUEST]

99846829

ID [VID]

11821

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Early English books online.

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(EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. A14875)

Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 11821)

Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1475-1640 ; 1296:1)

Source

— The white diuel, or, The tragedy of Paulo Giordano Vrsini, Duke of Brachiano with the life and death of Vittoria Corombona the famous Venetian curtizan. Acted by the Queenes Maiesties Seruants. Written by Iohn Webster., Webster, John, 1580?-1625?.

Extent

[88] p.

Printed by N[icholas] O[kes] for Thomas Archer, and are to be sold at his shop in Popes head Pallace, neere the Royall Exchange,. London :: 1612.. (Partly in verse.) (Printer's name from STC.) (Signatures: A² B-L⁴ M² .) (Running title reads: Vittoria Corombona.) (For printing details and variants see "Studies in bibliography" VI, p. 117-40 and VIII, p. 113-7.) (Reproduction of the original in the Bodleian Library.)

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