The tragedie of Tancred and Gismund Compiled by the gentlemen of the Inner Temple, and by them presented before her Maiestie. Newly reuiued and polished according to the decorum of these daies. By R.W.

The tragedie of Tancred and Gismund Compiled by the gentlemen of the Inner Temple, and by them presented before her Maiestie. Newly reuiued and polished according to the decorum of these daies. By R.W.

Table of contents

Title page

¶ To the right VVorshipfull and vertuous Ladies, the L. Anne Graie, & the Ladie Marie Peter, long health of bodie, with quiet of minde, in the fauor of God and men for e•…er.

To his frend R. W.

TO THE WORSHIP FVLL AND learned 〈◊〉, the Gentlemen Students of the Inner Temple, with the rest of his singular good friends, the Gentlemen of the middle Temple, and to all other 〈◊〉 readers, R. W. wisheth increase of all health, worship & learning, with the immortall glorie of the graces adorning the same.

A Preface to the Queenes Maidens OF HONOR.

The Tragedie of Tancred and Gismund.

Actus. 1.

Scaena. 1.

Scaena. 2.

Scaena. 3.

Actus. 2.

Scaena. 1.

Scaena. 2.

Scaena 3.

Actue. 3.

Scaena. 1.

Scaena. 2.

Scaena. 3.

Actus. 3.

Scaena. 1.

Scaena. 2.

Scaena 3.

Scaena. 4.

Actus 5.

Scaena 1.

Scaena 2.

Scaena 3,

EPILOGVS.

Introductio•… 〈◊〉 •…cundum.

Introductio in Actum tertium.

Introductio in Actum 4.

Introductio in Actum quintum.

〈◊〉 〈◊〉.

§

§

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THE TRAGEDIE of Tancred and Gismund.

COMPILED BY THE GENtlemen of the Inner Temple, and by them presented before her MAIESTIE.

Newly reniued and polished according to the decorum of these daies. By R. W.

[figure]

LONDON, Printed by Thomas Scarlet, and are to be so [...] by R. Robinson. 1591.

¶ To the right VVorshipfull and vertuous Ladies, the L. Anne Graie, & the Ladie Marie Peter, long health of bodie, with quiet of minde, in the fauor of God and men for e [...]er.

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IT is most certaine (right vertuous and wershipfull) that of all humane learning, Poetrie (how contemptible so euer it is in these daies, is the most ancient) and in Poetrie, there is no argument of more antiquitie and elegancie than is the matter of Loue; for it seemes to be as old as the world, & to beare date from the first time that man & woman was: therfore in this, as in the finest mettall, the freshest wits haue in all ages shown their best workmanship. So amongst others these Gentlemen, which with what sweetnesse of voice and liuelinesse of action they then expressed it, they which were of her Maiesties right Honorable maidens can testifie.

Which being a discourse of two louers, perhappes it may seeme a thing neither fit to be offered vnto your Ladyships, nor worthie me to busie my selfe withall: yet can I tell you Madames, it differeth so farre from the ordinarie amorous discourses of our daies, as the manners of our time do from the modestic and innocencie of that age.

And now for that wearie winter is come vpon vs, which bringeth with him drouping daies and tedious nights, if it be true, that the motions of our mindes follow the temperature of the aire wherein we liue, then I thinke, the perusing of some mournfull matter, tending to the view of a notable example, will refresh your wits in a gloomie day, & ease [...] wearines of the louring night. Which if it please yo [...] [Page] [...] ye also for a solemne reuell against this Festiuall time, for Gismunds bloudie shadow, with a little cost, may be intreated in her selfe-like person to speake to ye.

Hauing therfore a desire to be knowen to your W I deuised this waie with my selfe to procure the same, persuading my selfe, there is nothing more welcome to your wisedomes, then the knowledge of wise, graue, & worthie matters, tending to the go [...]d instructions of youths, of whom you are mothers.

In this respect therefore, I shall humblie desire ye to bestow a fauour able countenance vpon this little labor, which when ye haue graced it withall, I must & will acknowledge my selfe greatly indebted vnto your Ladyships in this behalfe: neither shall I amongst the rest, that admire your rare vertues, (which are not a fewe in Essex) cease to commend this vndeserued gentlenes.

Thus desiring the king of heauen to increase his graces in ye both, granting that your ends may be as honorable, as your liues are vertuous, I leaue with a vaine babble of many needlesse wordes to trouble you longer.

Your Worships most dutifull and humble Orator Robert Wilmot.

To his frend R. W.

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Ma [...]r R: VV. looke not now for the tear [...] of an intreator, I wil beg no longer, and for your promises, I wil refuse them as bad paiment: neither can I be satisfied with any thing, but a peremptorie performance of an old intention of yours, the publishing I meane of those wast papers (as it pleaseth you to cal thē, but as I esteem them, a most erquisite inuention) of Gismunds Tragedie. Thinke not to shift me off with longer delayes, nor alledge more excuses to get further respite, least I arrest you with my Act [...] est, and commence such a [...]ute of vnkindenesse against you, as when the case shalbe scand before the Judges of courtesie, the court wil crie out of your immoder at modestie. And thus much I tel you before, you shal not be able to wage against me in the charges growing vpon this action, especially, if the worshipful company of the Inner temple gentlemen patronize my cause, as vndoubtedly they wil, yea, & rather plead partially for me t [...]en let my cause miscary, because themselues are parties. The tragedi [...] was by them most pithely framed, and no lesse curiously acted in view of her Maiesty, by whom it was then as princely accepted, as of the whole honorable audience notably applanded: y [...], and of al men generally desired, as a work, either in stat [...] lines of shew, depth of conceit, or true ornaments of po [...] ticall arte, inferior to none of the best in that kinde: no, were the Roman Seneca the censurer. The braue y [...]uths that then (to their high praises) so feelingly performed the same in action, did shortly after lay vp the [...] vnregarded, or perhaps let it run abroade (as many parentes doe their children once past dandling) not respecting so much what hard fortune might befall it being out of their [...]ngers, as how their beroical wits might againe be quickly conceiued with new inuentions of like worthines, wherof they haue been euer since wonderfull fertill. But this orphan of theirs (for he wandreth as it were fatherlesse) hath notwithstanding, by the rare & bewtiful perfections [Page] appearing in him, hether [...] neuer wanted great fauourers, and louing preseruers. Among whom I cannot sufficiently commend your more then charitable zeale, and scholerly compassion towards him, that haue not only rescued and defended him from the deuouring iawes of obliuion, but vouchsafed also to apparrel him in a new sute at your own charges, wherin he may again more boldly come abroad, and by your permission returne to his olde parents, clothed perhaps not in richer or more costly furniture then it went from them, but in handsomnes & fashion more auswerable to these times, wherein fashions are so often altered. Let one word suffice for your encouragement herein: namely, that your commendable pains in disrobing him of his antike curio [...]tie, and adorning him with the approoued guise of our stateliest Englishe termes (not diminishing, but more augmenting his artificiall colours of absolute poesie, deriued from his first parents) cannot but bee grateful to most mens appetites, who vpon our experiēce we know highly to esteem such lofty measures of sententiously composed Tragedies.

How much you shal make me, and the rest of your priuate frends beholding vnto you, I list not to discourse: and therfore grounding vpod these alledged reasons, that the suppressing of this Tragedie, so worthy for yt presse, were no other thing then wilfully to defraud your selfe of an vniuersall thank, your frends of their expectations, and sweete G. of a famous eternitie. I will cease to doubt of any other pretence to cloake your bashfulnesse, hoping to read it in print (which lately lay neglected amongst your papers) at our next appointed meeting.

I bid you hearte [...]y farewell. From Pyrg [...] in [...], August the eight, 1591.

Tuus fide & facultate. Guil. Webbe.

TO THE WORSHIP FVLL AND learned [...], the Gentlemen Students of the Inner Temple, with the rest of his singular good friends, the Gentlemen of the middle Temple, and to all other [...] readers, R. W. wisheth increase of all health, worship & learning, with the immortall glorie of the graces adorning the same.

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YE may perceiue (right Worshipful) in perusing the former Epistle sent to mee, how sore I am befet with the importunities of my friends, to publish this Pamphlet: Truly I am and haue bin (if there be in me anie soundnes of iudgement) of this opinion, that whatsoeuer is committed to the presse is commended to eternitie, and it shall stand a liuely witnes with our conscience, to our comfort or confusion, in the reckning of that great daie.

Aduisedly therefore was that Prouerbe vsed of our elder Philosophers, Manum a Tabula: with-hold thy hand from the paper, and thy papers from the print or light of the world: for a lewd word escaped is irreuocable, but a bad or base discourse published in print is intollerable.

Hereupon I haue indured some conflicts between reason and iudgement, whether it were conuenient for the common wealth, with the indecorum of my calling (as some thinke it) that the memorie of Tancreds Tragedie should be againe by my meanes, reuiued, which the oftner I read ouer, and the more I considered theron, the sooner I was won to consent therunto: calling to mind that neither the thrice reuerend & lerned father M. Beza, was ashamed in his yonger yeres, to send abroad in his owne name, his [Page] Tragedy of Abraham, nor that rare Scot (the scholer of ourage) Buchanan, his most pathetical Ieptha.

Indeed I must willingly confesse this Wor [...] simple, and not worth comparison to any of theirs: for the writers of them were graue men; of this, young heads: In them is shewn the perfection of their studies; in this, the imperfection of their wits. Neuertheles herein they al agree, commending vertue, detesting vice, and liuely deciphering their ouerthrow that suppresse not their vnruely affections. These things noted herin, how simple so euer the verse be, I hope the matter wil be acceptable to the wise.

Wherefore I am now bold to present Gismund to your sights, and vnto yours only, for therfore haue I coniured her, by the loue that hath bin these 24. yeres betwixt vs, that she waxe not so proude of her fresh painting, to stragle in her plumes abroad, but to contein her selfe within the walles of your house; so am I sure she shalbe safe frō the Tragedian Tyrants of our time, who are not ashamed to affirme that ther can no amarous poeme sauour of any sharpnes of wit, vnlesse it be seasoned with scurrilous words.

But leauing them to their lewdnes, I hope you, & all discreet readers, wil thankfully receiue my pains, the fruites of my first haruest: the rather, perceiuing that my purpose in this Tragedie, tendeth onely to the exaltation of vertue, & suppression of vice, with pleasure to profit and help al men, but to offend, or hurt no man. As for such as ha [...] neither the grace, nor the good gift to doe well themselues, nor the common honestie, to speak wel of others, I must (as I may) heare and bear their baitings with patience.

Yours deuoted in his ability, R. Wilmot.

A Preface to the Queenes Maidens OF HONOR.

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FLowers of prime, pearles couched all in gold,

Light of our daies that glads the fainting hearts

Of them that shall your shining geamls behold,

Salue of each sore, recure of inward smarts,

In whom Vertue and Beautie striueth so,

As neither yeelds, behold here for your gaine

Gismonds vnluckie loue, her fault, her wo

And death, at last her cruell Father slaine

Through his mishap, and though you do not see,

Y [...]t reade and rew their wofull Tragedie.

So Ioue, as your high vertues done deserue,

Grant you such pheeres, as may your vertues serue

With like vertues, and blisfull Venus send

Vnto your happie loues an happie end.

Another to the same.

GIsmond, that whilome liu'de her fathers ioy

And died his death, now dead, doth as she may

By vs praie you to pittie her annoy.

And to requite the same, doth humbly pray,

Heauens to forefend your loues from like decay.

The faithfull Earle doth also make request,

Wishing those worthie knights whom ye imbrace,

The constant truth that lodged in his breast.

His hartie loue, not his vnhappie case,

Befall to such astriumph in your grace.

[Page]The King praies pardon of his cruell hest,

And for amends, desires it may suffice,

That by his bloud he warneth all the rest

Of fond fathers, that they in kinder wise,

Intreat the Iewels where their comfort lies.

We, as their messengers, beseech ye al

On their behalfes, to pittie all their smarts,

And for our selues, (although the worth be small)

We praie ye, to accept our humble hearts

Auoud to serue with praier and with praise,

Your Honors, all vnworthie other waies.

The Tragedie of Tancred and Gismund.

Argumentum Tragediae.

TAncred the Prince of Salerne, ouerloues

His onely daughter (wonder of that age)

Gismund, who loues the Countie Palurin,

Guishard, who quites her likings with his loue:

A Letter in a cane, describes the meanes

Of their two meetings, in a secret caue.

Vnconstant fortune leadeth forth the king

To this vnhappie sight, wherewith in rage,

The gentle Earle he doometh to his death,

And greets his daughter with her louers hart.

Gismunda fils the goblet with her teares,

And drinkes a poison which she had distild,

Whereof she dies, whose deadly countenance

So grieues her Father, that he slew himselfe.

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An other of the same more at large in prose.

TANCRED king of Naples and Prince of Salerne, gaue his only daughter Gismund (whom he most dearely loued) in mariage to a foraine Prince, after whose death she returned home to her Father, who hauing felt great griefe of hir absence whilst her husband liued, immesurably esteeming her, determined neuer to suffer any second mariage to bereaue him of hir She on the other side waxing wearie of that her fathers purpose, bent hir mind to the secret loue of the County Palurin: to whom (he being likewise inflamed with loue of her) by a Letter subtilly inclosed in a clouen cane, she gaue to vnderstand a conuenient waie for their desired meetings, through an old ruinous vaut, whose mouth opened directly vnder her chamber floore. Into this vaut when she was one day descended (for the conuaiance of hir louer) hir father in the meane season (whose only ioy was in his daughter) came to hir chamber, and not finding her there, supposing her to haue bin walked abroad for hir disport, he threw him downe on hir bed, and couered his head with a curtain, minding to abide and rest there till hir returne. She nothing suspecting this hir fathers vnseasonable comming, brought vp hir louer out of the cane into hir chamber, where hir father espied their secret loue: and hee (not espied of them) was vpon this sight striken with meruailous griefe; but either for that the sodaine despight had amazed him, & taken from him all vse of speech, or for that he resolued himself to a more cōueniēt reuenge, he then spake nothing, but noted their returne into the vant, and secretly [Page] departed. Afterward bewailing his mishap, be commanded the Earle to be attached, imprisoned, strangled, vnbowelled, and his heart in a cup of golde to be presented to his daughter: she thankefully receiueth the present, filling the cuppe (wherein the heart was) with her teares, with a vonimcus potion (by her distilled for that purpose) shee dranke to her Earle. Which her father hearing of, came too late to comfort his dying daughter, who for her last request besought him, that her louer and her selfe, might in one tombe be together buried, for a perpetuall memorie of their faithfull loues, which request he graunted, adding to the buriall, himselfe slaine with his owne hands, to his owne reproch, and the terror of all other hard hearted fathers.

Actus. 1.

Scaena. 1.

Cupid commeth out of the heauens in a cradle of flowers, drawing forth vpon the stage in a blew twiste of silke, from his left hand Vaine hope, Brittle ioy. And with a carnation twist of silke from his right hand, Faire resemblance, Late Repentance.

Cupid.

There rest my chariot on the mountaine tops,

I that in shape appeare vnto your sight

A naked boy, not cloathde but with my wings,

Am that great God of Loue, who with his might

Ruleth the wast wide world, and liuing things.

This left hand beares vaine hope, short ioyfull state,

With faire Resemblance, louers to allure,

This right hand holds Repentance all too late,

Warre, fire, bloud, and paines without recure.

On sweete Ambrosia, is not my foode,

Nectar is not my drinke, as to the rest

"Of all the Gods: I drinke the louers bloud,

[Page]"And feed vpon the heart within his breast.

Well hath my power in heauen and earth bin tride,

And deepest hell, my pearcing force hath knowen.

The marble seas, my wonders haue descride,

Which elder age throghout the world hath blowen.

To me, the king of Gods and men doth yeeld,

[...].

As witnes can the Greekish maide, whom I

Made like a cow go lowing through the field,

Least iealous Iuno should the scape espie:

The doubled night, the Sunnes restrained course,

His secret stealths, the slander to eschew,

Like to Amphitrio to Alcmena.

In shape transformd, we list not to discourse.

All that and more we forced him to do.

The warlike Mars hath not subdude our might,

We feard him not, his furie nor disdaine,

That can the Gods record: before whose sight

He laie fast wrapt in Vulcans subtill chaine.

He that on earth yet hath not felt our power,

Let him behold the fall and cruell spoile

Of thee faire Troy, of Asia the flower,

So foule defast, and leueld with the soile.

Who forst Leander with his naked brest

So many nights to cut the frothie waues,

But Heroes loue, that lay inclosde in Sest?

The stoutest hearts to me shall yeeld them slaues.

Who could haue matcht the huge Alcides strength,

Hercules.

Great Macedon, what force might haue subdude?

Alexand.

Wise Scipio who ouercame at length,

But we, that are with greater force endude?

Who could haue conquered the golden fleece

But Iason, aided by Medeas art?

Who durst haue stolne faire Helen out of Greece

[Page]But I, with loue that boldned Paris heart?

What bond of nature, what restraint auailes

Against our power? I vouch to witnes truth.

The Myrhe tree that with shamefast teares bewailes

Myrrha

Her fathers loue, still weepeth yet for ruth.

But now, this world not seeing in these daies,

Such present proofes of our al-daring power,

Disdaines our name, and seeketh sundrie waies,

To scorne and scoffe, and shame vs euerie houre,

A brat, a bastard, and an idle boy,

A rod, a staffe, a whip to beate him out,

And to be sicke of loue, a childish toy,

These are mine honors now the world about,

My name disgrast, to raise againe therefore,

And in this age, mine ancient renowme

By mightie acts, intending to restore,

Downe to the earth, in wrath now am I come.

And in this place, such wonders shall ye heare,

As these your stubborne, and disdainfull hearts,

In melting teares, and humble yeelding feare,

Shall soone relent by sight of others smarts.

This princely pallace, will I enter in,

And there inflame, the faire Gismunda, so

Inraging all her secret vaines within,

Through firie loue, that she shall feele much wo.

Too late repentance, thou shalt bend my bow.

Vaine hope, take out my pale dead heauie shaft,

Thou faire Resemblance, formost forth shalt go,

With Brittle joy: my selfe will not be least,

But after me, comes death, and deadly paine.

Thus shall ye march, till we returne againe,

Meane while, sit still, and here I shall you shew

[Page]Such wonders, that at last with one accord,

Ye shall relent, and saie that now ye know,

Loue rules the world, Loue is a mightie Lord,

Exit.

Cupid with his traine entereth into King Tancreds Pallace.

Gism [...]nda in Purple commeth out of her Chamber, attended by foure maides that are the Chorus.

Scaena. 2.

Gismund.

"OVaine, vnsteadfast state of mortall things,

"Who trusts this world, leans to a brittle stay,

"Such fickle fruit, his flattering bloome forth brings

"Ere it be ripe, it falleth to decay,

The ioy and blisse that late I did possesse,

In weale at will, with one I loued best,

Is turned now into so deepe distresse,

As teacheth me to know the worlds vnrest.

For neither wit nor princely stomackes serue

Against his force that slaies without respect,

The noble and the wretch: ne doth reserue,

So much as one, for worthines elect.

Ah me deare Lord, what well of teares may serue

To feed the streames of my foredulled eies,

To weepe thy death, as thy death doth deserue,

And waile thy want in full sufficing wise.

Ye lampes of heauen, and all ye heauenly powers,

Wherein did he procure your high disdaine,

He neuer sought with vast huge mounting towers

To reach aloft, and ouer-view your raigne,

Or what offence of mine was it vnwares,

That thus your furie should on me be throwen,

[Page]To plague a woman with such endles cares,

I feare that enuie hath the heauens this showen.

The Sunne his glorious vertues did disdaine,

Mars at his manhood mightily repind,

Yea all the Gods no longer could sustaine,

Each one to be excelled in his kind.

For he my Lord surpast them euerie one,

Such was his honor all the world throughout,

But now my loue, oh whither art thou gone?

I know thy ghost doth houer here about,

Expecting me (thy heart) to follow thee:

And I (deare loue) would faine dissolue this [...]rife,

But staie a while, I may perhaps foresee

Some meanes to be disburdend of this life,

And to discharge the dutie of a wife,

Which is, not onely in this life to loue,

But after death her fancie not remoue.

Meane while accept of these our daily rites,

Which with my maidens I shall do to thee,

Which is, in songs to cheere our dying spirits

With hymnes of praises of thy memorie.

Cantant.

Qua mihi cantio nondum occurrit.The Song ended, Tancred the King commeth out of his pallace with his guard.

Scaena. 3.

Tancred.

Faire daughter, I haue sought thee out with g [...]iefe,

To ease the sorrowes of thy vexed heart.

How long wilt thou torment thy father thus?

Who daily dies to see thy needles teares,

[...]uch bootlesse plaints that know nor meane nor end

[...] but increase the flouds of thy lament,

[Page]And since the world knowes wel ther e was no want

In thee, of ought that did to him belong

Yet all thou seest could not his life prolong.

Why thē doest thou prouoke the heauens to wrath?

His doome of death was dated by his starres,

"And who is he that may withstand his fate?

By these complaintes small good to him thou doest,

Much griefe to me, most hurtvnto thy selfe,

And vnto Nature greatest wrong of all.

Gis.

Tell me not of the date of natures daies,

Then in the Aprill of her springing age:

No, no, it was my cruell destinie,

That spited at the pleasance of my life.

Tanc.

My daughter knowes the proofe of natures course

"For as the heauens do guide the lamp of life

"So can they search no further forth the flame,

"Then whilst with oyle they do maintain the same.

Gis.

Curst be the starres, and vanish may they curst,

Or fall from heauen, that in the dire aspect,

Abridgde the health and welfare of my loue.

Tanc.

Gismund my ioy, set all these griefes apart,

"The more thou art with hard mishap beset,

"The more thy patience should procure thine ease.

Gis.

What hope of hap may cheere my haples chance

What sighs, what teares may counteruail my cares?

What should I do, but still his death bewaile,

That was the solace of my life and soule?

Now, now I want the wonted guide and stay

Of my desires, and of my wreaklesse thoughts,

My Lord, my loue, my life, my liking gone,

In whome was all the fulnes of my ioy,

To whom I gaue the first fruites of my loue,

[Page]Who with the comfort of his onely sight,

All cares and sorrowes could from me rem [...]ue.

But father, now my ioyes forepast to tel,

Doe but reuiue the horrors of my hell.

As she that seemes in darkenes to behold

The gladsome pleasures of the chearefull light.

Tanc.

What then auailes thee fruitlesse thus to rue

His absence whom the heauens cannot returne:

Impartiall death thy husband did subdue,

Yet hath he spar'd thy kingly fathers life:

Who during life, to thee a double stay,

As father, and as husband will remaine,

With doubled loue to ease thy widowes want.

Ofhim whose want is cause ofthy complaint,

Forbeare thou [...] al these needlesse teares,

That nippe the blossoms of thy beauties pride.

Gis.

Father, these teares loue chalengeth of due.

Tan.

But reason saith thou shoulds the same subdue.

Gis.

His funerals are yet before my sight.

Tan.

In endles mones Princes should n [...]t delight.

Gis.

The turtle pines in losse of her true mate.

Tan.

And so continues poore and desolate.

Gis.

Who ca [...] forget a [...]well of such price?

Tanc.

She that hath learnd to master her desires.

"Let reason worke that time doth easilie srame

"In meanest wittes: to beare the greatest illes.

Gis.

So plenteous are the springs

Of sorrowes that increase my passions,

As neither reason can recure my smart,

Nor can your care, nor fatherly comfort

Appease the stormie combats of my thoughts,

Such is the sweet remembrance of his life.

Then geue me leaue, of pittie pittie me,

[Page]And as I can I shall allay these greefes.

Tan.

These solitarie walkes thou do [...]st frequent,

Yeeld fresh occasions to thy secrete mones:

We wil therefore thou keep vs companie,

Leauing thy maidens with their harmonie.

Wend thou with vs, virgins withdraw your selues.

Tan. and Gis. with the Gard, depart into the pallace, the four maydens stay behind, as Chorus to the Trag [...]die.

Chor. 1.

The diuers haps which alwayes worke our care,

Our ioyes so farre, our woes so neere at hand,

Haue long ere this, and dayly doe declare

The fickle foot on which our state doeth stand.

"Who plants his pleasures here to gather roote,

"And hopes his happy life wil still endure,

"Let him behold how death with stealing foote

"Steps in, when he shall thinke his ioyes most sur [...].

"No ransome serueth to redeem our daies.

If prowes could preserue, or worthy deedes,

He had yet liu'd whose twelue labours displayes

His enddlesse fame, and yet his honor spreades.

And that gre [...]t king that with so small a power

Alexander.

Bereft the might ie Persian his crowne:

Doeth witnesse well our life is but a flower,

Though it be deckt with honor and renowme.

Chor. 2

"What growes to day in fauor of the heauen,

"Nurst with the sun, and with the showers sweete,

"Pluekt with the hand it withereth ere euen.

"So passe our daies euen as the riuers fleete.

The valiant Greekes that vnto Troya gaue

The tenne yeeres siege, left but their names behind.

And he that did so long and onelie saue

Hec [...].

His fathers walles, found there at last his end.

[Page]Proud Rome herselfe, that whilome laid her yoke

On the wide world, and vanquisht all with warre,

Yet could she not remoue the fatall stroke

Of death, from them that stretcht her power so farre.

Chor. 3

Looke what the cruell sisters once decreed

The thunderer himselfe cannot remoue:

They are the Ladies of our destinie,

To worke beneath, what is conspirde aboue,

But happie he that ends this mortall life,

By speedie death, who is not forst to see,

The many cares, nor feele the sundrie griefes

Which we sustaine, in wo and miserie.

Heere Fortune rules, who when she list to play,

Whirleth her wheele, and brings the high full low,

To morow takes, what she hath giuen to daie,

To shew she can aduance, and ouer throw.

Not Euripus vnquiet floud so oft

Ebs in a daie, and floweth too and fro,

As Fortunes change, pluckes downe that was alo [...]t,

And mingleth ioy, with enterchange of w [...].

Chor. 4

Who liues below, and feeleth not the strokes,

Which often times on highest towers do fall,

Nor blustering winds, wherwith the strongest okes

Are rent and torne, his life is surste of all:

For he may sco [...]e Fortune, that hath no power

On him, that is well pleasd with his estate:

He seeketh not her sweets, nor feares her sower,

But liues contented in his quiet rate,

And marking how these worldly things do wade,

Reioyceth to himselfe, and laughs to see

The folly of men, that in their wits haue made,

Fortune a goddesse, placed in the skie.

Finis Actus 1.

Exegit Rod. Staf.

[Page]

Actus. 2.

Scaena. 1.

Gismund.

DEare Aunt, my sole companion in distresse,

And true copartner of my thoughtfull cares:

When with my selfe, I way my present state,

Comparing it with my forepassed daies,

New heapes of cares, afresh beginnet' assay

My pensiue heart: as when the glittering raies,

Of bright Phoebus, are sodainely ore-spred,

With duskie clouds, that dim his golden light,

Namely, when I, laid in my widowes bed,

Amid the silence, of the quiet night,

With curious thought, the fleeting course obserue,

Of gladsome youth: how soone his flower decaies.

How time once past, may neuer haue recourse,

No more then may the running streames reuert,

To climbe the hilles, when they bin rowled down

The hollow vales, there is no curious art,

Norworldlie power, no not the gods can hold

The sway of flying time, nor him returne

When he is past: all things vnto his might

Must bend, and yeeld, vnto the Iron teeth

Of eating time: this in the shedy night,

When I record, how soone my youth withdrawes

It selfe away, how swift my pleasaunt spring

Runnes out his race, this this (Aunt) is the cause.

When I aduise me sadlie on this thing,

That makes my heart, in pensiue dumps dismaid.

For if I should, my springing yeares neglect.

And suffer youth, fruitles to fade away:

Whereto liue I? or whereto was I borne?

[Page]Wherefore hath nature deckt me with her grace?

Why haue I tasted the delights of loue?

And felt the sweets of Hymeneus bed?

But to say sooth (deare Aunt) it is not I

Sole and alone, can thus content to spend

My chearefull yeares: my father will not still

Prolong my mournings, which haue grieued him,

And pleased me too long. Then this I craue,

To be resolued of his princelie minde.

For, stoode it with the pleasure of his will

To marrie me, my fortune is not such,

So hard, that I so long should still persist

Makelesse alone in wofull widowhood,

And shall I tell mine Aunt? come hether then,

Geue me that hand, by thine owne right hand,

I charge thy heart my councels to conceale.

Late haue I seene, and seeing, tooke delight,

And with delight, I will not say, I loue,

A Prince, an Earle, a Countie in the Court.

But loue and duetie force me to refraine,

And driue away these fond affections,

Submitting them vnto my fathers hest.

But this (good Aunt) this is my chiefest paine,

Because I stand at such vncertaine stay.

For if my kinglie father would decree

His finall doome, that I must leade my life

Such as I doe, I would content me then

To frame my fancies to his princely heast,

And as I might, endure the greefe thereof.

But now his silence doubleth all my doubts,

Whilest my suspitious thoughts twixt hope & feare,

Distract me into sundrie passions.

[Page]Therefore (good Aunt) this labour must be yours,

To vnderstand my fathers will herein:

For wel I know your wisdome knowes the meanes,

So shall you both allay my stormie thoughts,

And bring to quiet my vnquiet mind.

Luc.

Sufficeth this (good Neece) that you haue said,

For I perceiue what sundrie passions

Striue in your brest, which oftentimes ere this

Your countenance confused did bewray,

The ground whereof since I perceiue to grow

On iust respect of this your sole estate,

And skilfull care of fleeting youths decay,

Your wise foresight such sorrowing to eschew

I much commend, and promise as I may

To breake this matter, and impart your mind,

Vnto your father, and to worke it so,

As both your honor shal not be impeacht,

Nor he vnsatisfied of your desire.

Be you no farther greeued, but returne

Into your chamber. I shall take this charge,

And you shall shortlie truely vnderstand

What I haue wrought, and what the king affirmes.

I leaue you to the fortune of my starres.

Gis. departeth into her chamber, Luc. abiding on the stage.

Luc.

The heauens I hope will fauoury our request.

My Neece shall not impute the cause to be

In my default, her will should want effect:

But in the king is all my doubt, least he

My suite for her new mariage should reiect.

Yet shall I proue him: and I heard it said,

He meanes this euening in the parke to hunt,

Here will I wait attending his approach.

[Page]Tancred commeth out of his Pallace with Guiszard the Countie Palurine, Iulio the Lord Chamber laine, Renuchio captaine of his [...], allready to [...].

Scaena. 2.

Tancred

VNcouple all our hounds: Lords to the chase:

Faire sister Lucre, what's the newes with you?

Luc.

Si [...] as I alwaies haue imployd my power,

And faithfull seruice, such as lay in me,

In my best wise, to honour you and yours:

So now, my bounden dutie moueth me,

Your maiestie most humblie to intreat,

With patient eares, to vnderstand the state,

Of my poreneece, your daughter.

Tanc.

what of her?

Is she notwell? Inioyes she not her health?

Say sister, ease me of this iealous feare?

Lucr.

She liues my Lord, & hath her outward helth,

But all the danger of her sicknes lies

In the disquiet of her princelie mind:

Tan.

Resolue me? what afflicts my daughter so,

Lucr.

Since whenthe Princes hath intoumb'd her Lord

Her late disseased husband of renowne:

Brother, I see, and verie well perceiue,

She hath not clos'de together in his graue,

All sparkes of nature, kindnes, nor of loue:

But as she liues, so liuing may she feele,

Such passions as our tender hearts oppresse,

Subiect vnto th impressions of desire:

Forwell I wot, my neece was neuer wrought,

Of steele, nor carued from the stonie rocke,

Such stearne hardnes, we ought not to expect,

In her, whose princelie heart, and springing yeares,

[Page]Yet flowring in the chiefest heat of youth,

Is lead offorce, to feed on such conceits,

As easilie befalles that age, which asketh ruth

Of them, whome nature bindeth by foresight

Of their graue yeares, and carefull loue to reach,

The things that are aboue their feeble force:

And for that cause, dread Lord although.

Tanc.

Sister I say.

If you esteeme, or ought respect my life,

Her honor, and the welfare of our house,

Forbeare, and wade no further in this speech.

Your words, are wounds, I verie well perceiue,

The purpose of this smooth oration:

This I suspected, when you first began,

This faire discourse with vs: Is this the end

Of all our hopes, that we haue promised

Vnto ourselfe, by this her widdowhood?

Would our deare daughter, would our onely ioy,

Would she f [...]sake vs? would she leaue vs now?

Before she hath closde vp, our dying eies,

And with her teares, bewaild our funerall?

No other solace, doth her father craue,

But whilst the fates, maintaine his dying life,

Her healthfull presence, gladsome to his soule,

Which rather then he willing would for-goe,

His heart desires, the bitter tast of death:

Her late marriage, hath taught vs to our griefe,

That in the fruits, of her perpetuall sight

Consists the onely comfort and reliefe,

Of our vnweldy age: for what delight

What ioy? what comfort? haue we in this world,

Now growen in yeares, and ouer-worne with cares,

[Page]Subiect vnto the sodain stroke of death,

Already falling like the mellowed fruite,

And dropping by degrees into our graue.

But what reuiues vs? what maintaines oursoule

Within the prison of our withered brest?

But our Gismunda and her chearefull sight.

O daughter, daughter, what desert of mine,

Wherein haue I beene so vnkind to thee?

Thou shouldst desire to make my naked house

Yet once againe stand desolate by thee?

O let such fansies vanish with their thoughts,

Tell her I am her father, whose estate,

Wealth, honor, life, and all that we possesse,

Whollie relies vpon her presence here.

Tell her I must account her all my ioy,

Worke as she will: But yet the were vniust,

To haste his death that liueth by her fight

Lucr.

Her gentle hart abhors such ruthles thoughts.

Tan.

Then let her not geue place to these desires.

Lucr.

She craues the right that nature chalengeth.

Tan.

Tell her the king commaundeth otherwise.

Lucr.

The kings cōmandment alwais should be iust.

Tan.

What ere it be the kings commaund is iust.

Lucr.

Iust to commaund: but iustlie must he charge.

Tanc.

He chargeth iustlie that commands as king.

Lucr.

The kings command concerns the body best.

Tan.

The king commands obedience of the minde.

Luc.

That is exempted by the law of kinde,

Tan.

That law of kind to children doth belong.

Luc,

In due obedience to their open wrong.

Tan.

I then, as king and father, will commaund.

Luc.

No more then may with right of reason stand.

[Page]Tan.

Thou knowest our minde, resolue her, depart,

Returne the chase, we haue beene chac'd [...]nough.

Tancred returneth into his pallace, & leaueth the hunt.

Luc.

He cannot heare, anger hath stopt his eares,

And ouer-loue his iudgement hath decaide.

Ah my poore Neece, I shrewdly feare thy cause.

Thy iust complaint shall neuer be relieu'd.

Gismunda commeth alone out of her chamber.

Scaena 3.

Gis.

BY this I hope my aunt hath mou'd the king.

And knows his mind, & makes return to me

To end at once all this perplexitie.

Lo where she stands. Oh how my trembling heart

In doubtfull thoughts panteth within my brest.

For in her message doth relie my smart,

Or the sweet quiet of my troubled minde.

Luc.

Neece, on the point you lately willed me

To treat of with the king in your behalfe,

I brake euen now with him so farre, till he

In sodain rage of griefe, ere I scarce had

My tale out tolde, praid me to stint my suite,

As that from which his minde abhorred most.

And well I see his fansie to refute,

Is but displeasure gainde, and labor lost.

So firmely fixed stands his kingly will,

That til his body shalbe laid in graue,

He will not part from the desired sight

Of your presence, which silder he should haue,

If he had once allied you againe,

In marriage to any prince or peere.

[Page]This is his finall resolution.

Gis.

A resolution that resolues my bloud

Into the Ice-sie drops of Lethes flood,

Luc.

Therefore my counsel is, you shall not sturre,

Nor further wade in such a case as this:

But since his will, is grounded on your loue,

And that it lies in you, to saue or spill,

His old fore-wasted age: you ought t'eschew,

The thing that greeues so much his crazed heart,

And in the state you stand, content your selfe:

And let this thought, appease your troubled mind,

That in your hands, relies your fathers death,

Or blisfull life, and since without your sight,

He cannot liue, nor can his thoughts indure,

Your hope of marriage, you must then relent,

And ouer-rule these fond affections:

Least it be said, you wrought your fathers end.

Gis.

Deare Aunt, I haue with patient eares indurde,

The hearing of my fathers hard behest:

And since I see, that neither I my selfe,

Nor your request, can so preuaile with him,

Nor anie sage aduice perswade his mind

To grant me my desire, In willing wise,

I must submit me vnto his command,

And frame my heart to serue his maiestie.

And (as I may) to driue awaie the thoughts

That diuersly distract my passions,

Which as I can, Ile labour to subdue,

But sore I feare, I shall but toile in vaine,

Wherein (good Ant) I must desire your paine.

Luc.

What lies in me by comfort or aduice,

I shall discharge with all humilitie.

Gismund and Lucre depart into Gismunds chamber.

[Page]Chorus primus.

Who markes our former times and present yeres,

What we are now, and lookes what we haue bin,

He cannot but lament with bitter teares,

The great decay and change of all women.

For as the world wore on and waxed olde,

So vertue quaild, and vice began to grow.

So that, that age, that whilome was of golde,

Is worse than brasse, more vile than yron now,

The times were such, that if we ought beleeue

Of elder daies) women examples were,

Of rare vertues: Lucre disdaind to liue

Longer then chast: and boldly without feare

Tooke sharpe reuenge on her inforced heart,

With her owne hands: for that it not withstood

The wanton will, but yeelded to the force

Of proud Tarquin, who bought hir fame with blood.

Chor. 2.

Queene Artemissa thought an hepe of stones,

Although they were the wonder of that age)

A worthlesse graue, wherein to rest the bones

Of her deare Lord, but with bold courage,

She dranke his heart, and made her louely breast

His tombe, and failed not of wifely faith,

Of promist loue, and of her bound behest,

Vntill she ended had her daies by death.

Vlysses wife (such was her stedfastnesse)

Abode his slow returne whole twentie yeeres:

And spent her youthfull daies in pensiuenes,

Bathing her widdowes bed with brinish teares.

Chor. 3

The stout daughter of Cato Bratus wife, Portia

When she had heard his death, did not desire [...]

Longer to liue: and lacking vse of knife,

[Page](A most strange thing) ended her life by fire,

And [...]at whot burning coales: O worthy dame!

O vertues worthy of eternall praise!

The floud of Lethe cannot wash out thy fame,

To others great reproach, shame, and dispraise.

Chor. 4

Rare are those vertues now in womens mind,

Where shall we seeke such iewels passing strange?

Scarse can you now among a thousand finde

One woman stedfast: all delight in change.

Marke but this princesse that lamented here,

Of late so sore her noble husbands death,

And thought to liue alone without a pheare,

Behold how soone she changed hath that breath.

I thinke those Ladies that haue liu'd to fore,

A mirror and a glasse to women kinde,

By those their vertues they did set such store,

That vnto vs they none bequeath'd behinde.

Els in so many yeeres we might haue seene

As vertuous as e [...]er they haue beene.

Chor. 1

Yet let not vs maydens condemne our kinde,

Because our vertues are not all so rare:

For we may freshly yet record in minde,

There liues a virgin, one without compare:

Who of all graces hath her heauenly share.

In whose renowme, and for whose happie daies,

Let vs record this Paean of her praise.

Cantant.

Finis Actus 2.

Per Hen. No.

Actue. 3.

Scaena. 1.

Cupid.

SO, now they feel what lordly loue can d

that proudly practise to deface his nam

[Page]Invaine they wrastle with so fierce a foe,

of little sparkes arise a blazing flame.

"By small occasions loue can kindle heate,

"and wast the Oken brest to cinder dust:

Gismund

I haue entised to forget

her widdowes weedes, and burne in raging lust:

Twas I [...]nforst her father to denie

her second marriage to any peere:

Twas I allur'd her once againe to trie

the sower sweetes that Louers buy too deere.

The Countie Palurin, a man right wise,

a man of exquisite perfections:

I haue like wounded with her pearsing eyes,

and burnt her heart with his reflections.

These two shall ioy in tasting of my sweete,

to make them proue more feelingly the greefe

That bitter brings: for when their ioyes shall fleete,

their dole shalbe increast without releefe.

Thus loue shall make worldlings to know his might,

thus loue shall force great princes to obey.

Thus loue shall daunt each proud rebelling spirite,

thus loue shall wreake his wrath on their decay.

Their ghostes shall doe black hell to vnderstand,

how great and wonderfull a God is Loue:

And this shall learne the Ladies of this lande,

with patient mindes his mighty power to proue.

From whence I did descend now will I mount,

to Ioue, and all the Gods in their delights:

In throne of triumph there will I recount,

how I by sharpe reu [...]nge on mortall wights,

Haue taught the earth, and learned hellish spirites

to yeeld with feare their stubburn hearts to loue:

[Page]Least their disdain, his plagues and vengeance proue

Cupid rem [...]unteth into the heauens.

Lucrece commeth out of GismundsChamber solitary.

Scaena. 2.

Luc.

PItie, that moueth euery gentle heart,

To rue their griefs, that be distrest in pain,

Inforceth me, to waile my neeces smart,

Whose tender brest, no long time may sustaine,

The restlesse toyle, that her vnquiet mind,

Hath causd her feeble bodie to indure,

But why it is, (alacke) I must not find,

Nor know the man, by whome I might procure

Her remedie, as I of dutie ought,

As to the law of kindship, doth belong,

With carefull heart, the secret meanes I sought,

Though small effect, is of my trauell sprong:

Full often as I durst, I haue assaid,

With humble words, the princes to require,

To name the man, which she hath so denaid,

That it abasht me, further to desire,

Or aske from whence, those cloudie thoughts proceed,

Whose stonie force: that smokie sighs forth send.

Is liuelie witnes, how that carefnll dread,

And hot desire, within her doe contend.

Yet she denies, what she confest of yore,

And then conioynd me, to conceale the same:

She loued once, (she saith) but neuer more,

Nor euer will, her fancie thereto frame:

Though daily, I obserued in my brest,

What sharpe conflicts, disquiet her so sore,

[Page]That heauy sleep cannot procure her rest,

But fearefull dreames present her euermore

Most hideous sights her quiet to molest.

That starting oft therwith she doth awake,

to muse vpon those fancies which torment

Her thoughtfull heart with horror, that doth make

Her cold chil sweat break foorth incontinent

From her weake lims: and while the quiet night

Geues others rest, she turning to and fro

Doth wish for day. But when the day brings light,

She keepes her bed, there to record her woe.

As soon as when she riseth flowing teares

Stream down her chekes, immixt with dedly grones

Whereby her inward sorow so appeares,

That as salt teares the cruell cause bemones.

In case she be constrained to abide

In preace of company, she scarcely may

Her trembling voice restraine it be not spied

From careful plaints her sorrowes to bewray.

By which restraint the force doth so increase,

When time and place geue liberty to plaine.

That as small streames from running neuer cease,

Til they returne into the seas againe:

So her laments we feare wil not amend,

Before they bring her Princely life to end.

To others talke when as she should attend,

Her heaped cares her sences so oppresse,

That what they speak, or wherto their words tende

She knowes not, as her answeres do expresse.

Her chiefe delight is stil to be alone,

Her pensiue thoughts within themselues d [...]bate,

But whereupon this restlesse life is growen,

[Page]Since I know not nor how the same t'abate.

I can no more but wish it as I may,

That he which knowes it would the same allay,

For which the Muses with my song shal pray.

After the song, which was by report very sweetely repeated of the Chorus, Lucrece departeth into Gismunds chamber, and Guiszhard commeth out of the Pallace with Iulio & Renuchio,gentlemen, to whom he [...]urneth, and saith.

Scaena. 3.

Guis.

LEaue me my frends, this solitarie walke

Intiseth me to breake your companie.

Leaue me my frends, I can endure no talk.

Let me intreat this common curtesie.

The Gentlemen depart.

WHat grecuous pain they dure which neither may

Forget their Loues, ne yet enioy their loue.

I know by proofe, and daily make assay,

Though Loue hath brought my Ladies hart to loue

My faithfull loue with like loue to requite:

This doeth not quench, but rather cause to flame

The creeping fire, which spreading in my brest

With raging heat, graunts me no time of rest.

If they bewaile their cruell destenie,

Which spend their loue wher they no loue can find

Wel may I plaine, since Fortune haleth me

To this torment of far more greeuous kind.

Wherein I feele as much extremitie,

As may be felt in body or in minde.

For by that sight which should recure my paine,

My sorowes are redoubled all in vaine.

Now I perceiue that only Ialone

Am her belou'd, her lookes assure me so:

[Page]The thought thereof prouokes me to bemone

Her heauy plight that greeueth at my woe.

This entercourse of our affections:

I her to serue, she thus to honor me,

Bewraies the trueth of our elections,

Delighting in this mutual sympathie.

Thus loue for loue intreates the Queen of loue,

That with her help Loues solace we may proue.

I see my mistres seekes as well as I

To stay the strife of her perplexed mind:

Full faine she would our secrete companie,

If she the wished way therof might finde.

Heauens haue yeseen, or hath the age ofman

Recorded such a myracle as this?

In equall loue two noble harts to frame,

That neuer spake one with anothers blisse,

I am assured that she doth assent,

To my reliefe that I should reape the same,

If she could frame the meanes of my content,

Keeping her selfe from danger of defame.

In happy houre right now I did receiue

This cane from her: which gift though it be small,

Receiuing it what ioyes I did conceiue,

Within my fainting spiri [...] therewithall,

Who knoweth loue arightmay wel conceaue,

By like aduentures that to them befall.

"For needs the Louer must esteeme that well,

"Which comes from her with whom his hart doth dwel.

Assuredly it is not without cause

She gaue me this: something she meant thereby:

For therewithall I might perceiue her pause

Awhile, as though some waightie thing did lie

[Page]Vpon her heart, which he conceald, because

The standers by should not our loues descrie.

This clift bewraies that it hath been disclosde.

Perhaps herein she hath something inclosde.

He breakes it.

O thou great th [...]nderer! who would not serue,

Where wit with beautie chosen haue their place,

Who could deuise more wisely to conserue

Things from suspect? O Venus, for this grace

That daines me, all vnworthy, to deserue

So rare a loue, in heauen I should thee place.

This sweet letter some ioyfull newes conteines.

I hope it brings recure to both our paines.

He reades it.

Mine owne, as I am yours, whose hear: (I know)

No lesse then mine, for lingering help of woe

Doth long too long: Loue tendering your case

And mine, hath taught recure of both our pain.

My chamber floure doth hide a caue, where was

An olde vautes mouth: the other in the plaine

Doet [...] rise Southward, a furlong from the wall,

Descend you there. This shall suffice. And so

I yeeld my selfe, mine honor, life and all,

To you. Vse you the same as there may grow

Your blisse and mine (mine Earle) and that the same

Free may abide from danger of defame.

Farewell, and fare so well as that your ioy

Which onely can, may comfort mine annoy.

Yours more then his owne, Gismund.

O blisful chance my sorowes to asswage.

Wonder of nature, maruell of our age,

Comes this from Gismund? did she thus infold

This letter in the cane? may it be so?

[Page]It were too sweet a ioy, I am deceu'd.

Why shall I doubt, did she not giue it me?

Therewith she smilde, she ioyde, she raught the cane

And with her owne sweet hand she gaue it me:

And as we danst, she dallied with the cane,

And sweetly whispered I should be her king,

And with this cane the scepter of our rule,

Command the sweets of her surprised heart.

Therewith she raught from her alluring lockes,

This golden tresse, the fauour of her grace,

And with her owne sweet hand she gaue it me.

O peereles Queene, my ioy, my hearts d [...]cree;

And thou faire Letter, how shall I welcome thee:

Both hand and pen wherewith thou written wert,

Blest may ye be, such solace that impart,

And blessed be this cane, and he that taught

Thee to descrie the hidden entrie thus:

Not onely through a darke and dreadfull vaut,

But fire and sword, and through what euer be,

Mistres of my desires, I come to thee.

Guiszard departeth in hast vnto the pallace.

Chorus. 1.

Right mightie is thy power, O cruell Loue,

High Ioue himselfe cannot resist thy bow,

Thou sent'st him down, euen frō the heauens aboue,

In sundrie shapes here to the earth below,

Then how shall mortall men escape thy dart?

The feruent flame, and burning of thy fire?

Since that thy might is such, and since thou art,

Both of the seas and land the Lord and sire.

Chor. 2

But why doth he that sprung from Ioues high head?

And Phoebus sister shene, despise thy power?

[Page]Ne feares thy bow? why haue they alwaies led

A maiden life, and kept vntoucht the flowre?

Why doth Aegistus loue? and to obteine

His wicked wil, conspires his vncles death,

Or why doth Phaedra burne? for whom is slaine

Theseus chast sonne? or Helen false of faith?

"For Loue assauts not but the idle heart,

"And such as liue in pleasure and delight,

"He turneth oft their gladsome ioyes to smart,

"Their play to plaint, their sport into despite,

Tis true that Dian chaseth with her bow,

Chor. 3.

The flying Hart, the Goat and fomie Bore,

By hil, by dale, in heat, in frost, in snow,

She recketh not, but laboureth euermore.

Loue seeks not her, ne knoweth where her to finde,

Whil'st Paris kept his heard on Ida downe

Cupid nere sought him out, for he is blinde.

But when he left the field to liue in towne,

He fel into his snare, and brought that brand

From Greece to Troy, which after set on fire

Strong Ilium, and al the Phryges land:

"Such are the fruites of loue, such is his hire.

Chor. 4.

Who yeeldeth vnto him his captiue heart,

Ere he resist, and holds his open breast

Withouten war to take his bloudy dart,

Let him not thinke to shake off when him list

His heauy yoke. "Resist his first assault,

"Weake is his bow, his quenched brand is cold,

"Cupid is but a child, and cannot daunt

"The minde that beares him, or his vertues bold.

But he geues poyson so to drinke in golde.

And hideth vnder pleasant baites his hooke,

[Page]But ye beware, it wil be hard to hold

Your greedy minds, but if ye wisely looke

What slie snake lurkes vnder those flowers gay,

But ye mistrust some clowdie smokes, and feare

A stormy shower after so faire a day.

Ye may repent, and buy your pleasure deare,

For seldome times is Cupid wont to send

"Vnto anidle loue a ioyful end.

Finis Actus 3.

G. Al.

Actus. 3.

Scaena. 1.

Before this Act Meg [...]ra riseth out of hell, with the other Furies, Alecto and Tysyphone, dauncing an [...] round: which done she saith.

SIsters be gone, bequeath the rest to me,

That yet belongs vnto this Tragaedie.

The two Furies depart down.

Vengeance and death from foorth the deepest hell

I bring the cursed house where Gismund dwels.

Sent from the grislie god that holds his raigne

In Tartars vglie Realm, where Pelops sire

(Who with his own sonnes flesh whom he had slain

Did feast the Gods) with famin hath his hire.

To gape and catch at flying fruites iu vaine,

And yeelding waters to his gasping throte,

Where stormie Aeoles sonne with endlesse paine

Rowles vp the rock: where Titius hath his lot

To feede the Gripe that gnawes his growing heart.

Where proud Ixion wherled on the wheele,

[Page]Pursues himselfe: where due deserued smart

The damned Ghosts in burning flame do feele,

From thence I mount: thither the winged God,

Nephew to Atlas, that vpholds the skie,

Of late downe from the earth, with golden rod,

To Stigian Firrie, Salerne soules did guide,

And made report, how Loue that lordly boy,

Highly disdaining his renownes decay,

Slipt downe from heauen, haue fild with fickle ioy,

Gismunds heart, and made her throw awaie

Chastnes of life, to her immortall shame,

Minding to shew by proofe of her foule end,

Some terror vnto those that scorne his name,

Blacke Pluto (that once found Cupid his friend

In winning Ceres daughter Queene of hels)

And Parthie moued by the grieued Ghost

Of her late husband, that in Tartar dwels,

Who praid due paines for her, that thus hath lost

All care of him, and of her chastitie,

The Senate then of hell by graue aduice

Of Minos, Aeac, and of Radamant,

Commands me draw this hatefull aire, and rise

Aboue the earth, with dole and death to dant

The pride and present ioyes, wherewith these two

Feed their disdained hartes, which now to do

Behold I come, with instruments of death.

This stinging snake which is of hate and wrath,

Ile fixe vpon her fathers heart full fast,

And into hers, this other will I cast,

Whose rankling venome shall infect them so

With [...]nuious wrath, and with recurelesse wo

Each shall be others plague and ouerthrow.

[Page]Furies must aide when men surcease to know

Their gods: and hel sends foorth reuenging paine

On those whom shame from sin cannot restraine.

Megaera entreth into the pallace, and meeteth with Tancred comming out of Gismunds chamber with Renuchio and Iulia, vpon whom she throweth her Snake.

Scaena. 2.

Tan.

GOds are ye guyds of iustice and reuenge?

O thou great Thunderer, doest thou beholde

With watchful eyes the subtile scapes of men

Hardned in shame, sear'd vp in the desire

Of their owne lustes: why then dost thou withhold

The blast of thy reuenge? why doest thou graunt

Such liuely breath, such lewd occasion

To execute their shamelesse villanie?

Thou, thou art cause of al this open wrong,

Thou that forbear'st thy vengeance all too long,

If thou spare them raine then vpon my head

The fulnesse of thy plagues with deadly ire,

To reaue this ruthfull soule, who all too sore

Burnes in the wrathfull torments of reuenge.

O earth the mother of each liuing wight,

Open thy wombe, deuour this withered corps,

And thou O hel, (if other hel there be

Then that I feele) receiue my soule to thee.

O daughter, daughter, wherefore do I grace

Her with so kind a name? O thou fond girle,

The shamefull ruine of thy fathers house,

[Page]Is this my hoped ioy? is this the stay

Must glad my griefe-ful yeares that wast away?

For life which first thou didst receiue from me,

Ten thousand deaths shal I receiue by thee?

For al the ioyes I did repose in thee,

Which I (fond man) did settle in thy sight,

Is this my recompence? that I must see

The thing so shameful, and so villanous,

That would to God this earth had swalowed

This worthlesse burthen into lowest deepes,

Rather then I (accursed) had beheld

The sight that howerly massacars my life.

O whether, whether flyest thou foorth my soule?

O whether wandreth my tormented mind?

Those paines that make the miser glad of death

Haue c [...]az'd on me, and yet I cannot haue

What villains may commaund, a speedie death.

Whom shal I first accuse for this outrage?

That God that guideth all, and guideth so

This damned deede. Shal I blaspheme their names?

The gods the authors of this spectacle:

Or shal I iustly curse that cruel starre

Whose influence assigned this destinie?

But nay, that traitor, shal that vile wretch liue

By whom I haue receau'd this iniurie?

Or shal I longer make account of her

That fondly prostitutes her widowes shame?

I haue bethought me what I shall request.

He kneeles.

On bended knees, with hands heau'd vp to heauen

This (sacred senate of the Gods) I craue,

First on the traytor your counsming ire:

[Page]Next, on the cursed strumpet dire reuenge:

Last, on my selfe, the wretched father, shame.

He riseth.

Oh could I stampe, and therewithall commaund

Armies of Furies to assist my heart,

To prosecute due vengeance on their soules.

Heare me my frends, but as ye loue your liues,

Replie not to me, hearken and stand amaz'd,

When I (as is my wont) oh fond delight,

Went foorth to seek my daughter, now my death,

Within her chamber (as I thought) she was,

But there I found her not, I demed then

For her disport she and her maidens were

Downe to the garden walkt to comfort them,

And thinking thus, it came into my mind

There all alone to tarry her returne:

And thereupon I (wearie) threw my selfe

Vpon her widdowes bed (for so I thought)

And in the curten wrapt my cursed head.

Thus as I lay anon I might beholde

Out of the vaut vp through her chamber floore

My daughter Gismund bringing hand in hande

The Countie Palurin, alas it is too true,

At her beds feete this traitor made me see

Her shame, his treason, and my deadly griefe.

Her Princelie body yeelded to this theefe.

The high despite wherof so wounded me

That traunce-like, as a senceles stone I lay,

For neither wit, nor tongue could vse the meane

T' expresse the passions of my pained heart.

Forcelesse, perforce, I sunke downe to this paine,

As greedie famin doth constraine the hauke,

[Page]Peecemeale to rent and teare the yeelding praie:

So far'd it with me in that heauie stound,

But now what shal I doe? how may I seeke

To ease my minde that burneth with desire

Of dire reuenge? For neuer shal my thoughts

Graunt ease vnto my heart, til I haue found

A meane of vengeance to requite his paines,

That first conueyd this sight vnto my soule.

Tan.

Renuchio.

Renu.

What is your Highnes will?

Tan.

Call my daughter: my heart boyles till I see

Her in my sight, to whom I may discharge

All the vnrest that thus distempereth me.

Should I destroy them both? O gods ye know

How neere and deere our daughter is to vs.

And yet my rage perswades me to imbrue

My thirstie hands in both their trembling bloods,

Therewith to coole my wrathful furies heate.

But Nature, why repin'st thou at this thought?

Why should I thinke vpon a fathers debt

To her that thought not on a daughters due?

But stil me thinks if I should see her die,

And therewithall reflexe her dying eyes

Vpon mine eyes, that sight would slit my heart.

Not much vnlike the Cocatrice, that slaies

The obiect of his foule infections.

Oh what a conflict doth my mind endure?

Now fight my thoughts against my passions:

Now striue my passions against my thoughts.

Now sweates my heart, now chil cold falles it dead.

Helpe heauens, and succour ye Celestiall powers,

Infuse your secrete vertue on my soule.

[Page]Shall nature winne? shall iustice not preuaile?

Shall I (a king) be proued partiall?

"How shall our Subiects then insult on vs,

"When our examples (that are light to them)

"Shalbe eclipsed with our proper deedes?

And may the armes be rented from the tree?

The members from the body be disseuer'd?

And can the heart endure no violence?

My daughter is to me mine onlie heart,

My life, my comfort, my continuance,

Shall I be then not only so vnkinde

To passe all natures strength, and cut her off.

But therewithall so cruell to my selfe,

Against all law of kinde to shred in twaine

The golden threed that doth vs both maintaine.

But were it that my rage should so commaund,

And I consent to her vntimelie death,

Were this an end to all our miseries?

No, no, her ghost wil still pursue our life.

And from the deep her bloodles gastfull spirit

Wil as my shadow in the shining day,

Follow my footsteps till she take reuenge.

I will doe thus therefore: the traitor dies,

Because he scornd the fauor of his king,

And our displeasure wilfullie incurde:

His slaughter, with her sorow for his bloud,

Shall to our rage supplie delightfull foode.

Iulio.

I [...]l.

What ist your Maiestie commaunds?

Tan.

Iulio, if we haue not our hope in vaine,

Nor all the trust we doe repose in thee:

Now must we trie if thou approue the same.

[Page]Herein thy force and wisdome we must see,

For our commaund requires them both of thee.

Iul.

How by your Graces bounty I am bound,

Beyond the common bond wherein each man

Stands bound vnto his king, how I haue found

Honor and wealth by fauor in your sight,

I doe acknowledge with most thankfull minde.

My trueth (with other meanes to serue your Grace,

What euer you in honor shall assigne)

Hath sworne her power true vassall to your hest,

For proofe let but your Maiestie commaund

I shall vnlock the prison of my soule,

(Although vnkindlie horror would gaine-say)

Yet in obedience to your Highnes will,

By whom I hold the tenor of this life,

This hand and blade wil be the instruments,

To make pale death to grapple with my heart.

Tan.

Wel, to be short (for I am greeu'd too long

By wrath without reuenge) I thinke you know

Whilom a Pallace builded strong

For warre, within our Court, where dreadlesse peace

Hath planted now a weaker entrance.

But of that pallace yet one vaut remaines,

Within our Court, the secret way whereof

Is to our daughter Gismunds chamber laide:

There is also another mouth hereof,

Without our wall: which now is ouergrowen,

But you may finde it out, for yet it lies

Directly South a furlong from our place:

It may be knowen, hard by an auncient stoope,

Where grew an Oke in elder daies decaide,

There wil we that you watch, there shall you see

[Page]A villain traitor mount out of a vaut:

Bring him to vs, it is th'Earle Palurin,

What is his fault neither shal you enquire,

Nor list we to disclose, these cursed eyes

Haue seene the flame, this heart hath felt the fire

That cannot els be quencht but with his bloud.

This must be done: this will we haue you do.

Iul.

Both this, and els what euer you thinke good.

Iulio departeth into the Pallace.

Renugio bringeth Gismund out of her chamber, to whom Tancred saith.

Scaena 3.

REnugio depart, leaue vs alone.

Exit Renugio.

Gismund, if either I could cast aside

All care of thee: or if thou wouldst haue had

Some care of me, it would not now betide

That either thorow thy fault my ioy should fade,

Or by thy folly I should beare the paine

Thou hast procur'd: but now tis neither I

Can shun the griefe: whom thou hast more thē slain

Nor maist thou heale, or ease the grieuous wound,

Which thou hast geuen me. That vnstained life

Wherein I ioy'd, and thought it thy delight,

Why hast thou lost it? Can it be restor'd?

Where is thy widdowhood, there is thy shame.

Gismund, it is no mans, nor mens report,

That haue by likely proofes enformd me thus.

Thou knowest how hardly I could be induc'd

[Page]To vex my selfe, [...]nd be displeasde with thee,

With flying tales of flattering Sicophants.

No, no, there was in vs such setled trust

Of thy chaste life, and vncorrupted minde:

That if these eyes had not beheld thy shame,

Invaine ten thousand censures could haue tolde,

That thou didst once vnprincelike make agree

With that vile traitor Countie Palurin.

Without regard had to thy selfe or me,

Vnshamefastly to staine thy state and mine.

But I vnhappiest haue beheld the same,

And seeing it, yet feeleth' exceding griefe

That slaies my heart with horror of that thought.

Which griefe commandes me to obey my rage,

And Iustice vrgeth some extreame reuenge,

To wreake the wrongs that haue been offred vs.

But Nature that hath lockt within thy brest

Two liues: the same inclineth me to spare

Thy bloud, and so to keep mine owne vnspilt.

This is that ouerweening-loue I bear [...]

To thee vnduetifull, and vndeserued.

But for that traitor, he shal surelie die,

For neither right nor nature doth intreat

For him, that wilfully without all awe

Of gods, or men, or of our deadly hate,

Incurde the iust displeasure of his king.

And to be briefe, I am content to know

What for thy selfe thou canst obiect to vs,

Why thou shouldst not together with him die,

So to asswage the griefes that ouerthrow

Thy fathers heart.

Gis.

O king, and father, humbly geue her leaue

[Page]To plead for grace, that stands in your disgrace.

Not that she recks this life: for I confesse

I haue deseru'd, when so it pleaseth you,

To die the death. Mine honor and my name

(As you suppose) distained with reproach,

And wel contented shall I meet the stroke

That must disseuer this detested head

Frō these lewd limmes. But this I wish were known

That now I liue not for my selfe alone.

For when I saw that neither my request,

Nor the intreatie of my carefull Aunt,

Could winne your Highnes pleasure to our will:

"Then Loue, heate of the heart, life of the soule,

"Fed by desire, increasing by restraint,

Would not endure controlment any more:

But violently enforst my feebled heart.

For who am I alas, still to resist

Such endlesse conflicts? To relent and yeelde

Therewith I chose him for my Lord and pheare.

Guiszard mine Earle that holds my loue full deare,

Then if it be so setled in your mind,

He shall not liue because he dar'd to loue

Your daughter. Thus I geue your Grace to know

Within his heart there is inclosde my life.

Therfore O father, if that name may be

Sweet to your eares, and that we may preuaile

By name of father, that you fauour vs.

But otherwise, if now we cannot finde

That which our falsed hope did promise vs.

Why then proceed, and rid our trembling hearts

Of these suspitions: since neither in this case

His good deserts in seruice to your Grace,

[Page]Which alwaies haue bin iust, nor in desires

May mittigate the cruel rage of griefe.

That straines your heart, but that mine Earl must die

Then all in vaine you aske what I can say

Why I should liue, sufficeth for my part

To say I wil not liue, and so resolue.

Tan.

Dar'st thou so desperat decree thy death.

Gis

A dreadles heart delites in such decrees.

Tan.

Thy kind abhorreth such vnkindly thoughts.

Gis.

Vnkindly thoughts they are to them that liue

In kindly loue.

Tan.

As I doe vnto thee.

Gis.

To take his life who is my loue to me.

Tan.

Haue I then lost thy loue?

Gis.

If he shal lose

His life, that is my loue.

Tan.

Thy loue. Be gone.

Returne vnto thy chamber.

Gis.

I wil goe.

Gismund departeth to her chamber.

Iulio with his gard bringeth in the County Pal. prisoner

Scaena. 4.

Iu.

IF it please your highnes hither haue we broght

This captiue Earl as you commanded vs.

Whō (as we wer fortold) euen there we found

Where by your maiesty we were inioin'd

To watch for him. What more your highnes willes,

This heart and hand shal execute your hest.

Tan.

Iulio we thank your paines. Ah Palurin,

Haue we deserued in such traiterous sort

Thou shouldst abuse our kingly courtesies,

Which we too long in fauor haue bestowed

Vpon thy false-dissembling hart with vs.

What grief thou therewithal hast throwen on vs

[Page]What shame vpon a house, what dire distresse,

Our soul endures, cannot be vttered.

And durst thou villen dare to vndermine

Our daughters chamber, durst thy shameles face

Be bolde to kisse her: th'rest we wil conceale.

Sufficeth that thou knowest I too wel know

All thy proceedings in thy priuat shames.

Herin what hast thou wonne? thine own content,

With the displeasure of thy Lord and king.

The thought whereof if thou hadst had in mind

The least remorce of loue and loyaltie

Might haue restraind thee from so foule a fact.

But Palurin, what may I deem of thee,

Whom neither feare of gods, nor loue of him

(Whose Princely fauor hath been thine vpreare)

Could quench the fewel of thy lewd desires.

Wherfore content thee that we are resolu'd

(And therfore laid to snare thee with this bayt)

That thy iust death, with thine effused blood,

Shal coole the heate and choler of our mood.

Guiz.

My Lord the [...]ing, neither do I mislike

Your sentence, nor do your smoking sighes

Reacht from the entrals of your boiling heart,

Disturbe the quiet of my calmed thoughts:

For this I feele, and by experience proue,

Such is the force and endlesse might of loue,

As neuer shal the dread of carren death

That hath enuide our ioyes, inuade my brest,

For if it may be found a fault in me

(That euermore haue lou'd your Maiestie)

Likewise to honor and to loue your child,

If loue vnto you both may be a fault,

[Page] [...] vnto her my loue exceedes compare,

Then this hath been my fault, for which I ioy

That in the greatest lust of all my life,

I shall submitte for her sake to endure

The pangues of death. Oh mighty Lord of loue

Strengthen thy vassall, boldlie to receaue

Large wounds into this body for her sake.

Then vse my life or death, my Lord and king,

For your reliefe to ease your grieued soule:

For whether I liue, or els that I must die,

To end your paines I am content to beare:

Knowing by death I shall bewray the trueth

Of that sound heart which liuing was her owne,

And dide aliue for her that liued mine,

Tan.

Thine Palurin, what, liues my daughter thine?

Traitor thou wrongst me, for she liueth mine.

Rather I wish ten thousand sundrie deaths,

Then I to liue and see my daughter thine.

Thine, that is dearer then my life to me?

Thine, whom I hope to see an Empresse?

Thine, whom I cannot pardon from my sight?

Thine, vnto whom we haue bequeath'd our crown?

Iulio, we wil that thou informe from vs

Renuchio the Capten of our Gard,

That we commaund this traitor be conueyd

Into the dungeon vnderneath our Tower,

There let him rest vntil he be resolu'd

What further we intend, which to vnderstand,

We will Renuchio repaire to vs.

Iul.

O that I might your Maiestie entreate

With clemencie to beutifie your seate,

Toward this Prince distrest by his desires,

[Page]Too many, all too strong to captiuate

Tan.

"This is the soundest safetie for a king

"To cut them off that vex or hinder him.

Iul.

"This haue I found the safetie of a king,

"To spare the Subiects that do honor him.

Tan.

Haue we been honourd by this leachers lust?

Iul.

No, but by this deuout submission.

Tan.

Our fortune saies we must do what we may.

Iul

"This is praise-worth, not to do what you may.

Tan.

And may the Subiect countermaund the king?

Iul.

No, but intreat him.

Tan.

What he shal decree.

Iul.

What wisdom shall discern.

Iul.

Nay what our word

Shal best determine. We wil not replie.

Thou knowest our mind, our heart cannot be easd,

But with the slaughter of this Palurin.

The king hasteth into his Pallace.

Guis.

O thou great God, who from thy hiest throne

Hast stooped down, and felt the force of loue,

Bend gentle eares vnto the wofull mone,

Of me poore wretch, to graunt that I require:

Help to perswade the same great God, that he

So farre remit his might, and slack his fire

From my deare Ladies kindled heart, that she

May heare my death without her hurt,

Herface, wherein there is as cleere a light

As in the rising moone: let not her cheekes

As red as is the partie-coloured rose.

Be paled with the newes hereof and so

I yeeld my selfe, my sillie soul, and all,

To him, for her, for whom my death shall shew

I liu'd, and as I liu'd, I dide her thrall.

Graunt this thou Thunderer: this shal suffice,

[Page]My breath to vanish in the liquid skies.

Guizard is led to prison.

Chorus primus.

Who doth not know the fruits of Paris loue,

Nor vnderstand the end of Helens [...]oy,

He may behold the fatall ouerthrow

OfPriams house, and of the towne of Troy.

His death at last, and her eternal shame,

For whom so many a noble knight was slaine.

So many a Duke, so many a Prince of fame

Bereft his life, and left there in the plaine.

Medeas armed hand, Elizas sword,

Wretched Leander drenched in the floud.

Phillis so long that waited for her Lord

All these too dearly bought their loues with bloud.

Cho. 2.

But he in vertue that his Lady serues

Newils but what vnto her Honor longs,

Heneuer from the rule of reason swarues,

He feeleth not the pangs, ne raging throngs

Of blind Cupid: he liues not in despaire

As done his seruants: neither spends his daies

In ioy, and care, vaine hope, and throbbing feare.

But seekes alway what may his soueraine please

In honor: he that thus serues, reapes the fruite

Of his sweet seruice: and no ielous dread

Nor base suspect of ought to let his sute

(Which causeth oft the louers hart to bleed)

Doth fret his mind, or burneth in his brest:

He wayleth not by day, nor wakes by night,

When euery other liuing thing doth rest.

Nor findes his life or death within her sight.

Cho. 3.

Remember thou in vertue serue therfore

[Page]Thy chast Lady: beware thou do not loue

As whilom Venus did the faire Adonne,

But as Diana lou'd the Amazons sonne.

Through whose request the gods to him alone

Restorde new life: the twine that was vndone

Was by the sisters twisted vp againe.

The loue of vertue in thy Ladies lookes,

The loue of vertue in her learned talke,

This loue yeelds matter for eternall bookes.

This loue intiseth him abroad to walke,

There to inuent and write new rondelaies

Of learned conceit, her fancies to allure

To vaine delights, such humors he allaies,

And sings of vertue and her garments pure.

Cho. 4.

Desire not of thy Soueraigne the thing

Whereof shame may ensue by any meane:

Nor wish thou ought that may dishonor bring.

So whilom did the learned Tuscan serue

His faire Lady: and glory was their end.

Such are the praises Louers done deserue,

Whose seruice doth to vertue and honor tend.

Finis Actus 4.

Composuit Ch. Hat.

Actus 5.

Scaena 1.

Renuchio commeth out of the Pallace.

Renu.

OH cruel fate, oh miserable chaunce

Oh dire aspect of hateful destinies,

Oh wo may not be told: suffic'd it not

That I should see and with these eyes behold

So foule, so bloody, and so basea deede:

[Page]But more to aggrauate the heauie cares

Of my perplexed mind, must onelie I

Must I alone be made the messenger,

That must deliuer to her Princelie eares

Such dismall newes? as when I shal disclose

I know it cannot but abridge her daies.

As when the thunderer and three forked fire

Rent through the cloudes by Ioues almighty power

Breakes vp the bosom of our mother earth,

And burnes her heart before the heat be felt.

In this distresse whom should I most bewaile,

My woe, that must be made the messenger

Of these vnworthie and vnwelcome newes?

Or shall I mone thy death, O noble Earle?

Or shal I still lament the heauie hap

That yet, O Queene, attends thy funeral.

Cho. 1.

What mones be these? Renuchio is this Salerne I see?

Doth here king Tancred hold the awful cronw?

Is this the place where ciuill people be?

Or do the sauage Scythians here abound?

Cho. 2.

What mean these questiōs? whether tend thes words?

Resolue vs maidens, & release our fears.

What euer newes thou bring'st, discouer them,

Deteine vs not in this suspicious dread,

''The thought whereof is greater then the woe.

Renu.

O whither may I cast my lookes? to heauen?

Blackpitchy clouds from thence rain down r [...]uenge

The earth shal I behold? stainde with the gore

Of his heart bloud that dide most innocent.

Which way so ere I turn mine eyes, me thinks

His butchered corps stands staring in my face.

Cho. 3.

We humbly pray thee to forbear these words

[Page]So ful of terror to our mayden hearts:

''The dread of things vnknown breedes the suspect

''Of greater dread, vntil the worst be knowen.

Tel therfore what hath chaunst, and whereunto

This bloudy cup thou holdest in thy hand.

Renu.

Since so is your request that I shal doe,

Although my mind so sorrowful a thing

Repines to tell, and though my voice eschewes

To say what I haue seene: yet since your will

So fixed stands to heare for what I rue,

Your great desires I shall herein fulfill.

First by Salerne Citie, amids the plaine,

There stands a hil, whose bottom huge and round,

Throwen out in breadth, a large space doth contain

And gathering vp in height small from the grounde

Stil lesse and lesse it mounts: there sometime was

A goodly towre vpreard, that flowrde in fame

While fate and fortune seru'd, but time doth passe,

And with his sway suppresseth all the same:

For now the walles be euened with the plaine.

And all the rest so fowly lies defast:

As but the only shade doth there remaine

Of that which there was built in time forepast:

And yet that shewes what worthy work tofore

Hath there been reard: one parcel of that towre

Yet stands, which eating time could not deuoure:

A str ong turret compact of stone and rock:

Hugie without, but horrible within:

To passe to which by force of handy stroke

A crooked straite is made, that enters in

And leades into this vgly loathsome place.

Within the which carued into the ground

[Page]A deep dungeon there runnes of narrow space

Dreadful and darke, where neue [...] light is found:

Into this hollow caue, by cruel hest

Of king Tancred, were diuers seruants sent

To worke the horror of his furious brest,

Earst nourisht in his rage, and now sterne bent,

To haue the same performde: I woful man

Amongst the rest, was one to do the thing

That to our charge so straitly did belong,

In sort as was commanded by the king.

Within which dreadful prison when we came,

The noble Countie Palurin that there

Lay chain'd in giues, fast fettered in his bolts,

Out of the darke dungeon we did vpreare

And hal'd him thence into a brighter place,

That gaue vs light to worke our tyrannie.

But when I once beheld his manly face,

And saw his cheare, no more appauld with feare,

Of present death, then he whom neuer dread

Did once amate: my heart abhorred then

To geue consent vnto so foul a deede,

That wretched death should reaue so worthy a man

On false fortune I cride with lowd complaint,

That in such sort ouerwhelmes nobilitie.

But he whom neuer griefe ne feare could taint,

With smiling cheare himselfe oft willeth me,

To leaue to plaine his case, or sorrow make,

For him, for he was far more glad apaide

Death to imbrace thus for his Ladies sake,

Then life, or all the ioyes of life he said.

For losse of life (quoth he) greeues me no more,

Then ioss [...] of that which I [...] least,

[Page]My Ladies griefe, least she should rue therefore,

Is all the cause of griefe within my brest.

He praid therfore that we would make report

To her of those his last words he would say:

That though he neuer could in any sort

Her gentlenes requite, nor neuer lay

Within his power to serue her as he would,

Yet she possest his heart with hand and might,

To doe her all the honor that he could.

This was to him of all the ioyes that might

Reuiue his heart, the chiefest ioy of al,

That, to declare the faithfull heart which he

Did beare to her, fortune so wel did fall,

That in her loue he should both liue and die.

After these words he staid, and spake no more,

But ioyfully beholding vs eachone,

His words and cheare amazed vs so sore

That stil we stoode: when forthwith thereupon

But why slack you (quoth he) to do the thing

For which you come? make speed and stay no more

Performe your masters will: now tel the king

He hath his life for which he long'd so sore:

And with those words himselfe with his own hand

Fastned the bands about his neck. The rest

Wondring at his stout heart, astonied stand

To see him offer thus himselfe to death.

What stony brest, or what hard heart of flint

Would not relent to see this dreery sight?

So goodly a man, whom death nor fortunes dint

Could once disarme, murdred with such despite.

And in such sort bereft amidst the flowers

Of his fresh yeares, that ruthfull was to seene:

[Page]"For violent is death, when he deuoures

"Yong men, or virgins, while their yeares be green.

Lo now our seruants seeing him take the bands

And on his neck himselfe to make them fast:

Without delay set to their cruel hands,

And sought to worke their fierce intent with hast,

They stretch the bloudy bands, and when the breth

Began to faile his brest, they slackt againe.

Thrise did they pull, and thrise they losed him,

So did their hands repine against their hearts:

And oft times losed to his greater paine.

"But date of death that fixed is so fast,

"Beyond his course there may no wight extend,

For strangled is this noble Earle at last,

Bereft of life, vnworthy such an end.

[...].

O dāned deed.

Ren.

What deem you this to be

Al the sayd newes that I haue to vnfould?

Is here (think you) end of the crueltie

That I haue seen?

Chor.

Could any heauier woe

Be wrought to him, then to destroy him so?

Ren.

What, think you this outrage did end so well?

The horror of the fact, the greatest [...],

The massaker, the terror is to tell.

Cho.

Alack what could be more? they threw percase

The dead body to be deuourd and torne

Of the wild beasts.

Renu.

Would God it had been cast a sauage praie

To beasts and birds: but lo, that dreadfull thing

Which euen the tyger would not work, but to

Suffice his hunger: that hath the tyrant king

Withouten ruth commaunded vs to doe,

Onely to please his wrathfull heart withal.

[Page]Happy had been his chance, too happy alas,

If birdes, or beasts had eaten vp his corps,

Yea heart and all: within this cup I bring,

And am constrained now vnto the face

Of his deare Ladie to present the same.

Chor.

What kind of crueltie is this you name?

Declare foo [...]hwith, and wherunto doth tend

This farther plaint.

Ren.

After his breath was gone,

Forced perforce thus from his panting brest

Straight they dispoiled him, and not alone

Contented with his death, on the dead corps

Which rauenous beasts forbeare to lacerate,

Euen vpon this our villens fresh begunne

To shew new crueltie: foorthwith they pearce

His naked bellie, and vnript it so,

That out the bowels gusht: who can rehearse

Their tyrannie, wherwith my heart yet bleedes.

The warme entralles were torne out of his brest.

Within their hands trembling not fully dead,

His veines smok'd, his bowels all to [...]

Ruthlesse were rent, and throwen about the place:

All clottered lay the bloud in lumps of gore,

Sprent on his corps, and on his paled face,

His trembling heart, yet leaping, out they tore,

And cruelly vpon a rapier

They fixt the same, and in this hateful wise

Vnto the king this heart they do present:

A sight longd for to feede his irefull eies.

The king perceiuing each thing to be wrought

As he had wilde, [...] to behold

Vpon the bloudie sword the pearced heart,

He calles then for this massie cup of gold,

[Page]Into the which the wofull heart he cast,

And reaching me the same, now go, quoth [...],

Vnto my daughter, and with speedy hast

Present her this, and say to her from me,

Thy father [...] here in this cup thee sent

That thing to ioy and comfort thee withal,

Which thou louedst best, euen as thou wert content

To comfort him with his chiefe ioy of all.

Cho.

O hateful fact! O passing crueltie!

O murder wrought with too much hard despit [...]e

O hainous deede, which no posteritie

Wil once beleeue!

Ren.

Thus was Earle Palurin

Strangled vnto the death, yea after death

His heart and bloud disboweled from his brest:

But what auaileth [...]? it is but breath

Forewasted all in vaine: why do I rest

Here in this place? why goe I not and doe

The hateful message to my charge committed?

Oh were it not that I am forc'd thereto,

By a kings will, here would I stay my feet,

Ne one whit farder wade in this intent:

But I must yeeld me to my Princes hest,

Yet doth this somewhat comfort mine vnrest,

I am resolu'd her griefe not to behold,

But get me gone my message being told.

Where is the Princesse chamber?

Cho.

Lo where she comes

Gismund commeth out of her chamber, to whom Renuchio deliuereth his cup, saying.

Scaena 2.

THy father, O Queen, here in this cup hath sent

The thing to ioy and comsort thee withall

Which thoulouedst best, euen as thou wast content

[Page]To comfort him with his chiefe ioy of all.

Gis.

I thanke my father, and thee gentle squire,

For this thy trauell take thou for thy paines

This bracelet, and commend me to the king.

Renuchio departeth.

So now is come the long expected houre,

The fatall hower I haue so looked for,

Now hath my father satisfied his thirst

With giltlesse bloud which he so coueted

What brings this cup? (ay me) I thought no lesse,

It is mine Earles, my Counties pearced heart,

Deare heart, too dearely hast thou bought my [...]

Extreamely rated at too high a price.

Ah my sweet heart, sweet wast thou in thy life,

But in thy death thou prouest passing sweet.

A fitter hearce then this of beaten gold,

Could not be lotted to so good an heart:

My father therefore well prouided thus

To close and wrap thee vp in massie gold,

And there withall to send thee vnto me,

To whom of duety thou doest best belong.

My father hath in all his life bewraid

A princely care and tender loue to me:

But this surpasseth, in his later dayes

To send me this, mine owne deare heart to me.

Wert thou not mine, dear hart, whil'st that my loue

Daunced and plaid vpon thy golden strings?

Art thou not mine (deere heart) now that my loue

Is fled to heauen, and got him golden wings?

Thou art mine owne, and stil mine own shalt be

Therfore my father sendeth thee to me.

Ah pleasant harborough of my hearts thought!

[Page]Ah sweete delight, the quickner of my soule

Seuen times accursed be the hand that wrought

Thee this despight, to mangle thee so foule:

Yet in this wound I see mine owne true loue,

And in this wound thy magnanimitie,

And in this wound I see thy constancie.

Goe gentle heart, go rest thee in thy tombe,

Receaue this token at thy last farewell:

She kisseth it.

Thine owne true heart anon will follow thee,

Which panting hasteth for thy companie.

Thus hast thou run (poore heart) thy mortall race,

And rid thy life from fickle fortunes snares,

Thus hast thou lost this world, and worldly cares,

And of thy foe, to honour thee withall,

Receau'd a golden graue, to thy desert,

Nothing doth want to thy iust funerall,

But my salt teares to wash thy bloudy wound.

Which to the end thou mightst receaue, behold

My father sends thee in this cup of gold,

And thou shalt haue them, though I was resolu'd

To shed no teares, but with a chearefull face

Once did I think to wet thy funerall

Only with bloud, and with no weeping eye.

This done, foorthwith my soule shal fly to thee,

For therfore did my father send thee me.

Ah my pure heart, with sweeter companie,

Or more content, how safer may I proue

To passe to places all vnknowen with thee.

Why die I not therfore? why doe I stay?

Why doe I not this wofull life forgoe,

And with these hands enforce this breath away?

[Page]What meanes this gorgeous glittering head attir

How ill [...] these billam [...]nts of gold

Thy mournfull widdowhood? away with them,

So let thy tresses flaring in the winde

She vndressesh her haire.

Vntrimmed hang about thy bared necke:

Now hellish furies set my heart on fire,

Bolden my courage, strengthen ye my hands

Against their kind, to do a kindly deed:

But shall I then vnwreaken downe descen d?

Shall I not worke some iust reuenge on him

That thus hath slain my loue? shall not these hands

Fire his gates, and make the flame to climb [...]

Vp to the pinnacles, with burning brands,

And on his cynders wreake my cruell teene.

Be still (fond girle) content thee first to die,

This venomd water shall abridge thy life,

she taketh a violl [...] of poys [...]n out of her pocket.

This for the same intent prouided I,

Which can both ease and end this raging strife.

Thy father by thy death shall haue more woe,

Then fire or flames within his gates can bring:

Content thee then in patience hence to go,

Thy death his bloud shall wreake vpon the king.

Now not alone (a griefe to die alone)

"The onely myrror of extreame anoy,

But not alone, thou diest my loue, for I

Will be copartner o [...] thy destinie.

Be merrie then my soule, canst thou refuse

To die with him, that death for thee did choose?

Chor. 1.

What damned furie hath possest our Queen

Why sit we still beholding her distresse?

Madame forbeare, suppresse this headstrong rage.

Gis.

Maidens forbeare your comfortable wordes.

[Page]Cho. 2.

O worthy Qu [...], rashn [...]s doth ouerthrowe

The author of his resolution.

Gis.

Where hope of help is lost what booteth feare?

Cho. 3.

Feare wilauoyd the sting of infamie.

Gis.

May good or bad reports d [...]light the dead?

Cho. 4.

If of the liuing yet the dead haue care.

Gis.

An easie griefe by councel may be cur'd.

Cho. 1.

But hedstrong mischiefs princes should auoid

Gis.

In headlong griefes and cases desperate?

Cho 2.

Cal to your mind (Gis.) you are the Queene.

Gis,

Vnhappy widow, wife, and paramour.

Cho. 3.

Think on the king.

Gis.

The king? the tyrant king

Cho. 3.

Your father.

Gis.

Yea, the murthrer of my loue

Ch. 4.

His force.

Gis.

the dead fear not the force of mē

Ch. 1.

His care & griefe.

Gis.

That neither car'd for me

Nor greeued at the murther of my loue,

My mind is setled, you with these vain words,

Withhold me but too long from my desire.

Depart ye to my chamber.

Cho.

We wil hast

To tel the king hereof.

Chorus depart into the Pallace.

Gis.

I will preuent

Both you and him. Lo here, this harty draught

The last that in this world I meane to tast,

Dreadlesse of death (mine Earle) I drink to thee.

So now worke on, now doth my soul begin

To hate this light, wher [...]in there is no loue,

No loue of parents to their children,

No loue of Princes to their Subiects true,

No loue of Ladies to their dearest loues.

Now passe I to the pleasant land of loue,

Where heauenly loue immortall flourisheth:

The Gods abhorre the company of men,

Hel is on earth, yea hel it selfe is heauen

[Page]Compar'd with earth. I cal to wit [...] h [...]n,

Heauen, said I? no, but hel record I call,

And thou sterne Goddesse of reuenging wrongs

Witnesse with me I die for his pure loue

That liued mine.

Shee lieth down and co [...]ereth her face with her haire.

Tancred in hast commeth out of his pallace with Iulio.

Scaena 3,

T [...].

WHere is my daughter?

Iu [...].

Behold, here, wofull king.

T [...].

Aime, break hart, & thou fly foorth my soul

What, doth my daughter Gis. take it so?

What hast thou done? oh let me see thine eyes,

Oh let me dresse vp those vntrimmed locks,

Looke vp, sweet child, look vp mine only ioy,

Tis I thy father that beseecheth thee:

Reare vp thy body, straine thy dying voice

To speake to him, sweet Gismund speake to me.

Gis.

Who staies my soul? who thus disquiets me?

Tan.

Tis I thy father, ah behold my teares

Like pearled deaw that trickle down my cheekes,

To wash my siluer haires.

Gis.

Oh father king

Forbeare your teares, your plaint wil not auaile.

Tan.

Oh my sweetheart, hast thou receau'd thy life

From me, and wilt thou to requite the same,

Yeeld me my death? yea death and greater greefe

To see thee die for him that did defame

Thine honor thus, my kingdome, and thy name.

Gis.

Yea therfore father gaue ye life to me,

That I should die, and now my date is done.

As for your kingdome, and mine own renowne,

Which you affirme dishonoured to be

That fault imput [...] it where it is, for he

[Page]That slew mine [...]arle, and sent his heart to me,

His hands haue brought this shame and griefe on vs

But father, yet if anie sparke remaine

Of your deare loue, if euer yet I could

So much deserue, or at your hands desire,

Grant that I may obtaine this last request,

Tans.

Sa [...]e louely child, saie on, what ere it be,

Thy father grants it willingly to thee.

Cis.

My life I craue not, for it is not now

In you to giue, nor in my selfe to saue,

Nor craue I mercie for mine Earle and me,

Who hath bin slaine with too much crueltie.

With patience I must awhile abide

Within this life, which now will not be long.

But this is my request, Father I praie,

That since it pleased so your maiestie,

I should inioy my loue aliue no more,

Yet neretheles let vs not parted be,

Whom cruell death could neuer separate:

But as we liude and dide together here,

So let our bodies be together tombde,

Let him with me, and I with him be laid

Within one shrine, where euer you appoint,

This if you grant me, as I trust you will,

Although I liue not to requite this grace,

Th'immortall Gods due recompence shall giue

To you for this, and so vaine world farewel,

My speech is painefull, and mine eie-sight failes.

Tanc.

My daughter dies, see how the bitter pangs

Of tyrannous death, torments her princely heart,

She lookes on me, at me she shakes her head,

For me she grones, by me my daughter dies,

I, I, the author of this Tragedie.

[Page]On me, on me, yee [...] [...] downe your [...]

Now [...] my daughter, [...] with [...] [...]

Oh faire in life, thrice fairer in [...] death,

Deare to thy father in thy life thou wert,

But in thy death, dearest vnto his heart,

I kisse thy paled cheekes, and close thine eies,

This duetie once I promist to my selfe,

Thou shouldst performe to me, but ah false hope

Now ruthful wretched king what resteth thee?

Wilt thou now liue wasted with miserie?

Wilt thou now liue that with these eies didst see

Thy daughter dead? wilt thou now liue to see

Her funerals, that of thy life was stay?

Wilt thou now liue that wast her liues decay?

Shal not this hand reach to this heart the stroke

Mine armes are not so weake, nor are my limmes

So feebled with mine age, nor is my heart

So daunted with the dread of cowardice,

But I can wreake due vengeance on that head

That wrought the means these louers now be dead

Iulio come neare, and lay thine own right hand

Vpon my thigh, now take thine oath of me.

Iul.

I sweare to thee, my liege Lord, to discharge

What euer thou enioynest Iulio.

Tan.

First then I charge thee that my daughter haue

Her last request, thou shalt within one tombe

Interre her Earle and her: and thereupon

Engraue some Royall Epitaph ofloue.

That done, I swear thee thou shalt take my corps

Which thou shalt find by that time done to death,

And lay my bodie by my daughters side.

Sweare this, sweare this I say.

Iul.

I sweare.

[Page]But will the king do so vnkingly now.

Tan.

A kingly deed the king resolues to doe.

Iul.

To kil himselfe.

Tan.

To send his soule to ease.

Iul

Doth Ioue command it?

Tan.

Our stars cōpell it.

Iul.

The wiseman ouerrules his stars.

Tan.

So we

Iul

Vndaunted should the minds of kings indure.

Tan.

So shal it in this resolution.

[...]ulio sorbeare, and as thou louest the king,

When thou shalt sec him weltring in his gore,

Stretching his limmes, and gasping in his grones

Then Iulio set to thy helping hand,

Redouble stroke on stroke, and driue the stab

Down deeper to his heart, to rid his soule.

Now stand aside, stir not a foote, least thou

Make vp the fourth to fill this Tragedie.

These eyes that first beheld my daughters shame,

These eyes that longed for the ruthful sight

Of her Earles heart, these eyes that now haue seene

His death, her woe, and her auenging teene:

Vpon these eyes we must be first auenged.

Vnworthy lamps of this accursed lump,

Out of your dwellings: so, it fits vs thus

In bloud and blindnes to goe seeke the path

That leadeth down to euerlasting night.

Why frighst thou dastard? be thou desperate,

One mischiefe brings another on his neck,

As mighty billowes tumble in the seas.

Now daughter, seest thou not how I amerce

My wrath that thus bereft thee of thy loue,

Vpon my head? now fathers learn by me,

Be wise, be warnde to vse more tenderly

The iewels of your ioyes. Daughter, I come.

[Page]

EPILOGVS.

Iul.

LO here the sweets of, grisly-pale despaire,

These are the blossoms of this cursed tree

Such are the fruits of too much loue and care

Orewhelmed in the sence of miserie.

With violent hands he that his life doth end,

His damned soul to endles night doth wend.

Now resteth it that I discharge mine oath,

To see th'unhappy louers and the king,

Layd in one tombe: I would be very loath:

You should wayt here to see this mournful thing.

For I am sure, and do ye all to wit,

Through griefe wherin the Lords of Salerne be,

These funerals are not prepared yet:

Nor do they think on that solemnitie.

As for the fury, ye must vnderstand,

Now she hath seen the'ffect of her desire,

She is departed, and hath left our land,

Graunting this end vnto her hellish ire.

Now humbly pray we that our English dames

May neuer lead their loues into mistrust:

But that their honors may auoid the shames

That follow such as liue in wanton lust.

We know they beare them on their vertues bold

With blisfull chastitie so wel content,

That when their liues, and loues abroad are told,

All men admire their vertuous gouernment.

Worthie to liue where Furieneuer came,

Worthie to liue where loue doth alwaies see,

Worthie to liue in golden trump of Fame,

Worthie to liue, and honoured stil to be.

Thus end our sorrowes with the setting Sun:

Now draw the curtens for our Scaene is done.

FINIS.

R. W.

Introductio [...] [...] [...]cundum.

[Page]

BEfore the second [...] [...] [...] [...] sweete noice of stil pipes, which sounding, L [...]crece [...], [...] ended by a mayden of honor with a cou [...]ed goddard of gold, and drawing the curtens, shee offreth vnto Gismunda to tast thereof: which when [...] had done, the maid returned, and Lucrece rayseth vp Gismund from her bed, and then it followeth vt in Act. 2. Scen. 1.

Introductio in Actum tertium.

Before this Acte the Hobaies sounded a [...] Almain, and Cupid [...] after him, Gui [...]ard and [...] hand in [...]. [...] and L [...]crece, Renuchio and another maiden of [...]onor. The [...] [...], [...] genes a cane into Guiszards hand, and they are all [...] forrth again by Cupid, Et sequitur.

Introductio in Actum 4.

Before this Act there was heard a consort of sweet musick, which playing, I ancred commeth forth, & draweth Gismunds curte [...]s, [...] lies down vpon her bed, then from vnder the stage ascendeth [...]. & he helpeth vp Gismund, they amaro [...]slv embrace, & depart. The king ar [...]seth enraged, then mas heard & seen a s [...]orm of thunder & lightning, in which the [...]ries rise vp, Et sequitur.

Introductio in Actum quintum.

Before this Act was a dead march [...], during which entred on the stage Renuchio capten of the Guard, attended vpon by the [...], they tooke vp Guisz. from vnder the stage, then after [...] [...] had kindly taken leaue of them all, a strangling cord was [...] about his neck, & he haled foorth by them. Renuchio [...] it, & then entring in, bringeth foorth a standing cup of gold, with a bloudy hart reeking wh [...]t init, and then saith vt sequitur.

[...] [...].

In the preface to the [...]. maids, line 3. geamls, read gleams. before act 1. l. x. with, read & with. sce. ii. l. xxiiii. for fear that. r. feare of that. sce. i. act i. l. xlvii. for by him, r. by thine. sce. i. act iii. l. xxv. for distaind r. distrained. sce. ii. l. vii. for liuely breath. r. liberty. sce. ii. acte iiii. for but nay, r. but may. sce. iii. act [...]. for widowhood, r. wido [...]s bed. sce. ii. for whilom a r. whilom there was a. act iiii. l. xxiii. hurt. reade let not.

Information about this book

Title statement

The tragedie of Tancred and Gismund Compiled by the gentlemen of the Inner Temple, and by them presented before her Maiestie. Newly reuiued and polished according to the decorum of these daies. By R.W.

R. W. (Robert Wilmot), fl. 1568-1608.

Edition statement

1591

Publication

Publisher

Text Creation Partnership,

Place of publication

Ann Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) :

Date

2003-01 (EEBO-TCP Phase 1).

ID [DLPS]

A15498

ID [STC]

STC 25764

ID [STC]

ESTC S111807

ID [EEBO-CITATION]

99847076

ID [PROQUEST]

99847076

ID [VID]

12086

Availability

This keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above is co-owned by the institutions providing financial support to the Early English Books Online Text Creation Partnership. This Phase I text is available for reuse, according to the terms of Creative Commons 0 1.0 Universal. The text can be copied, modified, distributed and performed, even for commercial purposes, all without asking permission.

Series

Early English books online.

Notes

(EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. A15498)

Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 12086)

Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1475-1640 ; 1590:9)

Source

— The tragedie of Tancred and Gismund Compiled by the gentlemen of the Inner Temple, and by them presented before her Maiestie. Newly reuiued and polished according to the decorum of these daies. By R.W., R. W. (Robert Wilmot), fl. 1568-1608., Boccaccio, Giovanni, 1313-1375. Decamerone., Stafford, Rodger., Noel, Henry, d. 1597., Allen, William, fl. 1567, attributed name., Hatton, Christopher, Sir, 1540-1591..

Extent

[72] p.

Printed by Thomas Scarlet, and are to be solde by R. Robinson,. London :: 1591.. (Dedication signed: Robert Wilmot.) (A verse adaptation of "Tancredi and Ghismunda" from: Boccaccio, Giovanni. Decamerone.) (In the original play act 1 was written by Rodger Stafford, act 2 by Henry Noel, act 3 by "G. Al." (possibly William Allen), act 4 by Sir Christopher Hatton, and act 5 by Wilmot. Wilmot revised the play, and probably re-cast it from the original decasyllabic rhyming quatrains into blank verse.) (Signatures: *4 A-H⁴.) (A variant (STC 25764a) has imprint dated 1592.) (Reproduction of a photostat of the original in the Henry E. Huntington Library and Art Gallery.)

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