AMICO ROSA INIMICO SPINA
THREE New Playes, VIZ.
- The Noble Ingratitude A Pastoral-Tragi-Comedy.
- The Enchanted Lovers. A Pastoral.
- The Amorous Fantasme. A Tragi-Comedy.
All written by Sir Wil. Lower Knight.
Amico Rosa, Inimico Spina.
LONDON: Printed for F. Kirkman at the Iohn Fletchers Head over against the Angel-Inn on the backside of St. Clements without Temple-Bar, 1661.
The Noble INGRATITUDE.
A Pastoral-Tragi-Comedy.
By Sir William Lower Knight.
Amico Rosa, Inimico Spina.
LONDON: Printed for Fr. Kirkman at the Iohn Fletchers Head over against the Angel-Inn on the backside of St. Clements without Temple-Bar, 1661.
To her MAJESTY THE QUEEN OF BOHEMIA.
MADAM,
Were I not fully perswaded that this Dramatick Piece in the Original is one of the best [Page] that hath been presented upon the French Stage, I should not have presumed to offer the Copy to the best of Queens, and indeed the most Juditious of Women: If I have failed in my judgment of the Authours work, I am indisputably right in the Character of my Patroness: Your Majesties goodness in pardoning this presumption, and in approving the Plot and Language o [...] the Play in my Version [Page] hath begotten this future ambition in me, to publish it under the favour of your Royall protection, which will secure it indubitably from the malevolent censures of any ignorant, arrogant, or malignant person whatsoever. If in the intervals of your high contemplations your serious thoughts shall descend to divert them a little, as before, so now after the Dedication and Impression, [Page] in reading those Sceanes, I must ever esteem it an unparalel'd honour to me, who am,
MADAM,
Your Majesties most humble, most obedient, and most faithfull Servant William Lower.
PROLOGUE.
BEfore I enter'd, I vvas tould vvhat novv
I see decypher'd upon every brovv;
A sullen sadnes, and close murmurs say,
The Title is enough to damn the Play The Bill condemns before the Action, Pox Vpon the Poet vvith his Paradox, Noble ingratitude, o barbarous sound! Vertue vvill die to see that Monster crovvn'd:
Strange voices these, strange censures from the vvits,
For such he takes you, every one that si [...]s
Spectatour here usurps a priviledge,
VVhich is unjust, before he hears, to judge.
VVise, and just Iuries, vvho in every cause
Strictly observe the custom of the Lavvs,
The bottome sound, and ne'r their verdicts bring
Vpon the superficies of a thing;
They vveigh the ground of matters vvell, and ne'r
Proceed to sentence till they see all clee [...];
Have patience then a little, and suspend
Your judgments till you see us at the end
Of the fifth Act; three hours vvill soon be pass'd,
In Sceans and Songs the minutes fly too fast;
Then if vve do'nt maintain our Paradox,
Let me be sham'd, and sit three hours [...] stocks
For punishing your patience; if the crime
Deserves more r [...]gour, let a longer time
Of penance be pres [...]rib'd me there; but I
Hope from your judgments, justice, clemency▪
A nobler sentence, and that you'll allovv
Me next a Lavvrell vvreath to crovvn my brovv.
ACTORS.
- ZELINDA, Daughter to Lindarache, disguised like a man under the name of Ormin, in the habit of a Slave.
- ZEGRY, Master to Zelinda, and Lover of Fatima.
- ALABEZ, Second Slave to Zegry.
- CHARIFA, Woman-Slave to Fatima.
- FATIMA, Mistresse to Zegry, and in Love with Adibar.
- ABENCERAGE, under the name of Almansor, Brother to Zelinda.
- ZAIDA, Sister to Zegry.
- MEDINA, Woman-Slave to Zaida.
- ADIBAR, Lover of Zaida.
- GAZVL, Slave to Abencerage.
- GOMELLA, Father to Fatima.
- LINDARACHE, Mother to Zelinda, and to Abencerage.
The Scene is in the Forrest of Argier.
THE NOBLE INGRATITVDE. A Tragi-Comedy.
ACT. I.
SCENE I▪
ORMIN
alone.
CHarming aboad, delightfull solitude,
Fair places where I first receiv'd my life
And love, old trees, cleer brooks, whose shade and murmur
Speak pity for my sorrowfull adventure,
Sweet Zephirs, Eccho, rocks, and silent forrests,
[Page 8]Be witnesses all of my secret griefs:
I am no more now that Zelinda sometime
Adored by the worthiest Lovers of
The country round about; alas! I serve
Vnder the habit of a Slave, a traitor
With an unparraleld'd fidelity,
Traitor in Love, I meane, not otherwise,
A Hero, but ingratefull, one who slatters me
In my extream misfortune, yet would hate me,
If he knew that I Love him. Gentle trees,
Happy are you, although the rigourous [...]inter
Vseth you hardly, for when the fair Spring
Maketh the cold to cease, you suddenly
Resume your anciēt verdure, and at harvest▪
Vpon your branches wee see fruits, where formerly
Hung Isicles: my fortune's not so good;
Each of the seasons have twice chaung'd, since Love
Resolved to afflict me, all which time
I've languished continually, and could no [...]
Ptetend to the repose my heart hath lost:
He whom I love with so much constancy
[...]s false and fleeting; o Gods! here he come [...]
SCENE. II.
ZEGRY, ORMIN.
ZEGRY.
Ormin ▪ I sought thee.
ORMIN.
[Page 9]Sir, I sought you also.
ZEGRY.
Know that to morrow we will depart hence.
ORMIN.
What! will you leave so soon your native country,
These cottages, these woods and these fair meadows?
ZEGRY.
I have not hid from thee that in those places
I love the sweet Fatima, a rich Master-peice
Of Heaven, and hop'd to see that Beauty here
So cherish'd and ador'd; but I have learn'd
That she is now at Tunis with her Father;
And though this happy residence may be said
To be a second Paradise, I cannot
See any fair thing here, since she is absent.
ORMIN.
How happy is Fatima, and how miserable
Am I! —
aside.
ZEGRY.
How grievous is her absence to
My amourous soul! to render me by her,
To morrow by the break of day we'll take
Our way for Tunis, I shall be too happy,
If [...] ma [...] see her, and I do believe
That she will bear some part too in my joy;
She had no little trouble, I perceiv'd,
[Page 10]For my departure last, and without doubt
I'm not indifferent to her.
ORMIN.
Certainly
Her flame will not be quench'd.
ZEGRY.
That's all my hope.
ORMIN.
And that is all my feare —
aside.
SCENE III.
ALABEZ, ZEGRY, ORMIN.
ALABEZ.
Cheer up, cheer up,
Smother your sighs, I have a counter poison
For all your sorrows.
ZEGRY.
Speak it then without
Holding us long in trouble.
ALABEZ.
Give me leave.
First, if you please, to take a little breath.
ZEGRY.
Speak then?
ALABEZ.
I'm not dispos'd yet.
ZEGRY.
Oh thou mak'st me.
Suffer too much? tell it unto us quickly.
ALABEZ.
You might die with it.
ZEGRY.
Is't then some misfortune
Sent me by destiny?
ALABEZ.
[Page 11]I say agiane.
You might die with it, but t'would be with joy;
Fatima yesterday late in the evening
Arrived in these quarters.
ZEGRY.
Is it possible,
Fatima?
ALABEZ.
Yes, assure you, I have seen her.
ZEGRY.
Perhaps thou art deceiv'd.
ALABEZ.
I am no asse.
I did observe her well, and knew her perfectly.
Her Slave, who was my Mistresse formerly,
Entered just now with her into that wood.
ZEGRY.
Good Gods? do I not see her?
ALABEZ.
Yes, that's she
Which passeth by.
ZEGRY.
What lustre hath her eye,
What grace her gate?
ORMIN.
Alas?
ZEGRY.
I see a thousand new charms there.
ALABEZ.
Are you besotted? wil you not salute her?
ZEGRY.
No, to perform that complement, I'le give her
[Page 12]A visit, when I shall have without doubt
My soul lesse in disorder.
ALABEZ.
For m [...] part,
Who do not love so daintily, I will,
Without deferring it, make my addresse.
ZEGRY.
Without discovering our selves, we may
From hence know by the usage of the servant,
In what esteem the Master is at present.
SCENE IV.
ALABEZ, CHARIFA, FATIMA, ZEGRY, ORMIN.
ALABEZ.
SWeet Beauties welcome, from what quarters come you?
CHARIFA.
What means this insolent? Go on your way
ALABEZ.
How's this? instead of kisses and embraces,
As I expected, I am quarrel [...]d with:
Charifa, whence this change?
CHARIFA.
Begone, and leave us.
ALABEZ.
[Page 13]Thou actest well the scornfull.
FATIMA.
What's that follow
Which followes us?
CHARIFA.
Tis an impertinent,
Whom I know not.
ALABEZ.
I am much changed then
Since this last voyage; but thy soul is chāg'd
And not my visage, without doubt thy Mistresse
Hath better eyes, and more wit; she will know
An old, and a familiar acquaintance.
FATIMA.
who are you then?
ALABEZ.
My Masters Slave.
FATIMA.
What Master?
ALABEZ.
Should you not know him neither?
Is his name raz'd out of your memory?
FATIMA.
Assuredly, Charifa, this man's mad.
ALABEZ.
How, Madam, is it possible you can
Forget the valiant Zegry?
FATIMA.
Zegry?
ZEGRY.
[Page 14]Heaven?
What strange inconstancy is this? who ever
Could have imagin'd it? —
aside.
ALABEZ.
That noble and illustrious successour
Of those brave warriers who even in Spain
Have gathered Lawrells, and brought home faire spoils,
Madam, your faithfull Lover, Zaida's brother.
FATIMA.
Oh! I remember him.
ZEGRY.
False, and Ingratefull!
ALABEZ.
You ask not how he doth.
FATIMA.
What interest
Have I in his sweet person? happily
He's dead.
ALABEZ.
He is indeed.
FATIMA.
We are all mortall;
The Prophet hath his soul.
CHARIFA.
A faith full servant
Would have accompanied his Master; why
Art thou not dead too?
ALABEZ.
Only to [...]nrage thee.
[Page 15]Zegry discovering himself.
ZEGRY.
The Prophet hath his soul, o false Fatima!
Is't thus you do expresse your goodness to me?
Deceitfull object, my return, I see,
Displeaseth you, who would despise me dead,
Must hate me living, I disturb with pleasure
That faithless joy which the delightfull news
Of my feign'd death procur'd you: I live still
Ingratefull, but I live no more for you:
M [...] passion is transform [...]d all into fury:
As much as I lov'd you, I now despise you:
My heart shakes of so rigourous a yoak:
Love raiseth no more sighs, nor fires within me,
Only I sigh that I us'd so much care
To please you, and if I burn yet, it is
With anger, not with love.
ORMIN.
Oh this successe
Answereth my wishes fully? —
aside.
FATIMA.
This confession
Surpriseth, but no way afflicteth me;
[Page 16]My first discourse should make you understand
That I'm not very tender hearted to you,
And, me thinks, after such a cleer contempt
As was expressed there you might believe
Nothing should trouble me that comes from you,
Vnless your amourous addresse: I have
A thousand other Lovers braver far
Then you, and therefore I daign not to put you
In the rank of my conquests.
ZEGRY.
Sure, your pride
Is greater then your beauty, the charm is
Dissolv'd wherein I formerly was held;
Tis true, I sometime thought you beautifull;
But I was amourous, and therefore not
To be believed, having now my spirit
No more disordered, you cease to be fair
And I to be abused, whereas you
Pleased me formerly, it was because
It is impossible for me, when I
Am lov'd, to be insensible.
FATIMA.
I love you?
Heaven! what a strange opinion is this?
[Page 17]I never had but strong aversion for you.
All your indeavours serv'd but to displease me;
But though I hated you, I lov'd your Sister,
And [...]t was for her sake that I feign'd to have
Some pitty for your passions; her prayer
A hundred times restain [...]d my hate, you sware
That your daies did depend upon my sight,
And yeelding unto her desites I did
Enforce mine eyes to smile, when my heart frown'd,
To the end not to be cause of your death.
ZEGRY.
Your eyes have never made a mortall wound.
FATIMA.
Take heed that your do not revive again,
One Only of my looks darted more gently.
Can change this violent anger into love;
But I am verie nice of such a look,
It is too rich a price, Sir, for your conquest
I limit my desires to see you never,
Adieu, become wise, and leave me in peace.
— Exit Fatima.
SCENE. V.
ZEGRY; ALABEZ, ORMIN.
ZEGRY.
YEs false Fatima, I will become wise,
Thy contempt is unjust, but mine is lawfull:
Since thou pretendest but to make thee hated,
I will obey thee, thy unworthy trophy,
My heart shal be no more, his charmes are broken,
His flames are quench'd; Alabez, follow her
Close at the heels, even unto her house;
But have a care not to discover thee.
ORMIN.
Her pride's unjust, and not to be endur'd;
Your change herein is but too equitable,
O how wel should you do to free your heart
From the imperious captivity
Of such a cruel conquerour, you are
Born with too many fair advantages,
To obtain nothing but eternall wrongs;
There are Sir, other beauties in the world
VVhich would be glad to share their flame with yours,
To imitate your sighs, and which would tell you
That the resplendent honour of a crown
Is beneath that to be beloved of
An object that one loves Contempt in love
De [...]erves to be repayed with contempt,
[Page 19]And who refuseth, is not worthy of,
For the most part, the person that's refus'd.
ZEGRY.
How great my griefs are, and how grievous is
This proud contempt? o light, and wavering Sex!
O black ingratitude! since love began
To trouble Lovers, was there ever torment
Equall to mine? I feel my heart infected
VVith all imaginary griefs.
ORMIN.
Oh? Sir,
Believe me, I know some that are much more
To be lamented, and if what I know
VVere reveald to you, you should have great cause
Of comfort by it.
ZEGRY.
Oh speak, and divert
The grief which doth oppresse me. oftentimes
A wretch is pleased in his misery
VVhen he sees that he suffers not alone.
ORMIN.
O love, I pray thee make his heart grow tender
At the recitall of the evill which he
Hath caused me, oh make him Sensible
Of my sad sufferings? —
aside.
A young Beauty, Sir,
VVhose name and birth, if you please I'l conceal
Through decency, only thus much I'I tell you,
[Page 20]That she was neer to me and lov'd me deerly,
Scarce yet attained to the fifteenth yeer,
When love and marriage was proposed to her,
And she commanded to expect for husband
A man too lovely, and to much belov'd;
And who for his part was so farre from being
Warm [...]d with a mutuall flame, that he unlawfully
Took an affection for another object:
His faithfull Lover with grief understood it
But yet a worse misfortune afterward
Surprised her, th' ingratefull brak th' accord
Of the approaching marriage, and departed
For a long voyage without seeing her;
I can assure you that her grief was quick,
And anger ardent after this affront;
But yet her anger was lesse then her love:
Although, th' inconstant left her, she retain'd him
Still in her soul, and valuing not her sex,
Nor fearing death, i th' habit of a man
She followed his steps.
Zegry meditating
ZEGRY.
O barbarous rigour!
O lamentable passion!
ORMIN.
[Page 21]You wil be
More touch'd when you shall know the rest: scarce was she
Embarked on the sea, when by a new,
And worse misfortune certain infamous rovers
Surpris'd her vessel, and not long time after
They sould her unto that ingratefull man,
Who falsly and unworthly forsook her:
And so at last it hapened that Fortune
Aswell as Love would put her into chains:
But she still without changing heart, or habit.
Found sweetnes in this double slavery;
Far from desiring to be free, she follow'd
Her faithles friend into his native country,
And fearing not to be discovered,
Serv [...]d this deceitfull Master without hope,
Indeavoured to please him, and therein
Prosper [...]d so well, that he esteem'd her zeal,
And conceal'd nothing from her; but this kindnes
Was not a cure, but corsive to her grief,
Because it made her privy to the happines
Her Rivall did enjoy in the affection
[Page 22]Of him she lov'd, who every day protested
Vnto her, that rather then lose her love,
He'd lose his life.
Zegry still meditating.
ZEGRY.
Vnparalel'd punishment!
Cruell injustice!
ORMIN.
Gods! he groweth tender,
Love be propitious to me, —
aside.
Sir, what lay you,
Is not she more then you to be lamented?
Compared to her torments, your afflictions
Are sweet. You answer not.
ZEGRY.
Yes, yes, I grant it
I ought to hate her, but I've too much weaknes:
Oh fair Fatima!
ORMIN.
Oh my hard misfortune!
ZEGRY.
Ormin, What charms she hath?
ORMIN.
You answer nothing
To what I said.
ZEGRY.
What spak'st thou to me of?
ORMIN.
Of a young maid
Oppress'd and injured in love.
ZEGRY.
My thoughts
Were otherwise imploy'd, and troubled,
[Page 23]I heard thee not, at least I have forgotten.
ORMIN.
You seemed to compassionate her grief,
And her misfortune very much.
ZEGRY,
Alas!
I onely thought upon my proper grief.
ORMIN,
What! shall th'ingratefull and cruel Fatima
Although she quits your heart thus, have the glory
To live still in your memory? oh no,
Banish her thence; but if you'l think of her,
To ease your evills a little▪ imploy your thought
Onely to think of her defects; remember
That she's too proud, and fancy to your self
That she's not fair enough, to hould so noble
And such a faithfull Lover as you are▪
That there is nothing charming in her eyes,
Nor in her cheeks, that her proportion,
Her posture, stature, gate, and carriage
Have nothing commendable, that her witt —
ZEGRY
Ormin, no more, I cannot suffer yet
She should be injur'd; that ingrateful Beauty,
Who laughs with scorn at my sad languishment,
Hath no defect at all but her fierce rigour;
[Page 24]And I fear that in spight of this defect,
My violent love will triumph o'r mine anger.
ORMIN.
What, shall Fatima be so proud, and you
So humble? shall she be compos'd of Ice,
And you of fire? must you persist to love her,
When she despiseth you? oh fall no more
Into that fatall errour. It belongs, Sir
But to low spirits to suffer without hate,
Such a contempt; to leave what flyeth us,
Is little trouble, and when hope is quench'd,
Love should be querched also.
ZEGRI.
What thou sayst,
Ormin, is verie true, I should indeed
Follow Fatima in her lightnes to me,
I should in her unkindnes trace her steps,
I should be as insensible as she's
Severe and rigourous, my flam'es an errour,
I doe confesse it, but I love this errour,
Thy faithfull counsels are not seasonable,
Love hath not yet given place unto my reason,
I'm born to languish, and to die for her;
Although she be ingratefull she is not
The lesse faire for it.
ORMIN.
The false hope that flatter'd me
Fled in a moment; miserable Lover,
And too unjust! —
aside
SCENE VI.
ALMANSOR, ZEGRY, ORMIN.
ALMANSOR.
FRiend, I am very joyfull
To meet thee.
ZEGRY.
My content is still compleat,
When I behold thy face, as in thy absence,
Nothing seems sweet unto me: Now I see
Th'art habited like us, this garment is
Well made.
ALMANSOR.
I took it just now in th'apartment
I have in thy abode.
ZEGRY.
This Shepheards habit
Becomes thee rarely; but for an Almansor,
It is too much abasement.
ALMANSOR.
Sure the habit
Takes nothing from the lustre of the merit,
In imitating thee, I cannot erre;
Thee, whose heart is as noble as thy race▪
And unto whose aid in an eminent danger
I owe my life.
ZEGRY.
The Shepheards of this wood
And fair Campania, are descended from
Those Heros, who in time pass'd conquer'd Spain
From those renowned Moors, whose great exploits
Made the Kings of a hundred Christian people
[Page 26]Tremble for fear, and who seeing Tunis conquer'd
By Charls the fifth, conserve here in these places
Their glory and their freedom, secretly
Dispose the hearts of the most Zealous Kings
To drive the Christiās frō this desolate coūtry,
And are in readines to joyn themselves,
And to encrease the first fair levies which
Shall be imploy'd on such an expedition.
ALMANSOR.
I know that this fair desert's like a Court:
But hast thou heard yet that Gomella is
Return'd heer? suffer me at present, Zegry,
To leave thee, he is my familiar friend,
And I owe him a visit.
ZEGRY.
Then thou know'st
Fatima.
ALMANSOR.
Yes, that Beauty hath receiv'd
The light from brave Gomella; friend adiew
I will return to thee with speed, excuse me
At present, I must speak with him upon
A busines of importance—
Exit Almansor.
SCENE VII.
ZEGRY ORMIN.
ZEGRY.
A busines of importance? oh that word
Redoubleth my affliction; to marry
Fatima, without doubt, is his design:
Oh Heavē? hast thou ordain [...]d that, to make up
The full proportion of my misery,
[Page 27] [...]y dearest friēd should rob me of my Mistresse?
[...]las! if this be true, grief, fure will kill me;
[...]ear Ormin, let us use our best indeavour
[...] hinder this misfortune; I expect
[...] only remedy from thy advise.
[...]he most resplendent wit yeildeth to thine
[...] point of knowledge, I have observ'd in thee
[...]omething thats great, and extraordinary;
Thy judgment charms me, and thy care surpriseth me.
ORMIN.
[...], I'm your Slave, and glory to be so.
ZEGRY.
[...] no, I make thee free, henceforth be thou
[...]hy Masters friend.
ORMIN.
[...]he sweetest liberty
[...]easeth my fancy lesse then the chains which
[...]ear for you.
ZEGRY
[...]is zeal so little common,
[...]akes me grow tender, and amazeth me.
[...], quit thy fetters, Ormin, I commmand it,
[...] free.
ORMIN
[...]nce tis your pleasure, I obey;
[...]las! what have I said, Love, can I be
[...] liberty, when my heart is not free?
The end of the first Act.
ACT II.
SCENE I.
FATIMA, ZAIDA, CHARIFA, MEDIN [...]
FATIMA.
ENter again, sweet Zaida, ceremony
Between us should be banish [...]d, where [...] will you
Trouble your self unnecessarily?
ZAIDA.
Since you will have it so, I'l go no further
FATIMA.
I may assure my self then ere we part,
That Adibar shall have no free admittanc [...]
To your society, I have already
Told you, that formerly he loved me;
But now I know that you give laws to [...]
And I have cause to hope that, if you scorn [...]
He may return unto his first subjection.
ZAIDA.
Fatima, be assur'd than he shall be
Repuls'd, his love will be but troublesom [...]
But if you love me, forget not to feign
Some kindnes for my brother; I beseech
For my sake give him cause to hope a little
FATIMA.
Adieu, I promise you that at next meetin [...]
I will receive him better. —
Exit [...]
SCENE II.
ZAIDA, MEDINA.
ZAIDA.
WHat think'st thou
Of fair Fatima, and of her request?
MEDINA.
[...] think that Adibar is not a person
[...]o be despis'd.
ZAIDA.
True, but I am too proud
T'accept a heart that hath been conquered
By any other, and would now be mine
Trough an inconstancie, but if I durst
To love —
MEDINA.
Why stop you, Madam?
ZAIDA.
Oh Medina!
I must not speak the rest.
MEDINA.
[...]ut I divine it;
You are in love, and I have cause to judge
[...]hat it is with Almansor, that fair stranger
ZAIDA.
Who, I in love with him?
MEDINA.
[...]hy not, I pray you,
Is that a crime?
ZAIDA.
Oh do not name that love,
[...]hich is no other but a fair esteem.
MEDINA.
[Page 30]There is so little difference between
Esteem and love, that oftentimes we take th [...]
One for the other, and are so deceiv'd.
ZAIDA.
I cannot but remember that my brother
In his last voyage did conclude my marriag [...]
In Argier, that he who's design'd to be
My husband, is heer shortly to arrive,
And that my heart ought to reserve it self
Wholy for him. Besides in thy opinion.
Would it not argue a great weaknes in me
To love this stranger, though my broth [...] friend.
Who hath not been above a moneth amon [...]
And whose desert as yet's unknown unto
MEDINA.
Seeing this Stranger, who's not of the vul [...]
Deserves to be caressed of your brother,
There's reason to believe that he deserves
To be your Lover, and I can't conceive
Why your mouth will conceal the fl [...] which is
So cleerly for him in your eyes and coun [...]nance.
As often as he commeth with your brothe [...]
To visit you, your looks seem to be fix'd
Wholy one him, and at the same time also
I observ'd often that the stranger ey'd you
With the same ardour.
ZAIDA.
Prethee, speak in earnest,
Did'st see him to behold me oftentimes?
MEDINA.
You ask it me with very much impresse m [...]
I do believe in lesse time then an howr,
That you have question'd me upon this [...]
[Page 31]More then a hundred times; your curiosity
Gives me a full assurance that his looks
Displease you not, nor wound your modesty
ZAIDA.
Alas! can one in justice be offended,
To be belov'd?
MEDINA.
If his love pleaseth you, I think his person
Will please you equally.
ZAIDA.
I consider him
Without interpreter; but perhaps, he loves
Elsewhere, and I may be unpleasing to him.
MEDINA.
Madam, although you fain would cover it,
This fond suspition publisheth your flame,
Iealousy alwaies is daughter of love.
ZAIDA.
vvould it pleas'd Heaven, that he were free, and that
He thought me fair, But I see him come forth
Gomella's house, I'l satisfy my self
In sounding of his soul, upon this bank
I will repose my self, and feign to sleep.
MEDINA.
VVhat's your design? I cannot comprehend it.
ZAIDA.
VVithdraw, anon thou't understand it better.
SCENE III.
ALMANSOR ZAIDA.
ALMANSOR.
G [...]mella is expecting his return.
[Page 32]In visit, heer I may conveniently
Dream of my new love: Heaven! do I not see
Vnder that flourishing shade the beautious subject
Of my sad sufferings? Love in this encounter
Seemeth to flatter me sufficiently;
It is the lovely Zaida without doubt:
How sweetly, and with what tranquility
Doth that fair one repose, whil'st wretched
Languish with the disease which she procures me
Surely she cannot hear me now, I may
Speak at this present unto her of love,
And not offend her; but alas! the rigour
Of my sad destiny is great, when I
Presume to speak, I fear that she may hear me
You that have taught me the true use of sighs▪
Dear object of my joy and of my griefs;
Suffer my amorous and silent soul
T [...]expresse its secret passion before you,
And to complain heer of a thousand evills
Which you have made me suffer, yet unknown
Vnto your self: and you resplendent sources
Of all my fires, from whence I have deriv [...]d
Such violent heats, fair charming eyes, the authors
Of my captivity, enjoy the rest,
Which your have taken from me: If I see
The poppies which shut up your lids, be no [...]
Offended that you lose your lights, the Sun
Is subject to the same eclipse, and can
No more then you, dispense himself thereof.
Zaida feigning her self in a dream
ZAID.
Almansor.
ALM.
Sure, she dreams.
ZAIDA.
Oh! rigourous torment!
[Page 33]To burn, to languish, and not dare to speak it,
Alas!
ALMANSOR.
O Heaven! what heare I?
ZAIDA
We resent
One and the same heat.
ALMANSOR.
Oh! that it were true!
ZAIDA.
My modesty, excuse me.
ALMANSOR.
O favourable sleep [...]
ZAIDA.
Cruel constraints!
When shal we be content, when shall our plaints
Have end?
ALMANSOR.
In this great extasie of joy,
All my respects are vain; to give her thanks
I'l kisse her fair hands.—
He kisseth her hands.
ZAIDA.
Hold, insolent; whence doth proceed this boldnes? —
feigning to awake,
ALMANSOR.
What have I done? —
aside.
I came to give you thanks.
ZAIDA.
For what?
ALMANSOR.
Tis for your goodnes.
ZAIDA.
How, I know not:
I'm sure I never gave you any matter
For this acknowledgment, who ever will
[Page 34]Consult th' apparence of the thing, shal find
That I have much indifference for you;
But though I had lesse, was it fit to trouble
My rest, in making your acknowledgement
ALMANZOR.
Excuse my transport, beautious Shepheardesse▪
If I had lesse lov'd, I had been lesse guilty;
In this occasion a Wary Lover
Would have expressed little love in shewing
Too much respect; and whatsoer my crime b [...]
It would be pardoned, if you slept stil;
But, alas! my good fortune is soon chang'd,
I find that you awake but to afflict me,
Your eyes in taking unto them again
Their grace and lustre, take unto them also
At the same time their usual cruelty.
And that most charming hope which I so littl [...]
Enjoyed, vanish'd with your sleep.
ZAIDA.
This is
An ill expression of your self, that word
Of hope gives me astonishment, I never
Gave it, nor took it yet from any person.
ALMANZOR.
If I might dare to credit your discourse,
At least you had not an aversion for me,
Nothing would be equall to my good fortune
You would not find my presence trouble so me,
I should be used better, I should be
Esteem'd and possibly—
ZAIDA.
Proceed.
ALMANZOR.
I might be
Belov'd.
ZAIDA.
[Page 35]Belov'd! of whom; if you magine
Of me, you are mistaken.
ALMAZOR.
Notwithstanding
You honored me so much to tell me so:
If I may but believe your voice, I have
Place in your heart, you are my wltnesse and
My judge both at one time; oh disavow not
That favorable sentence, that fair Oracle
Proceding from an adorable mouth.
Those words so full of charms pronounc'd in sleep,
Which promised me blessings so soon vanish'd
ZAIDA.
I dreamt, Almanser, and you are not ignorant
That a dream oftentimes is a deceiver,
And stil a lie.
ALMANSOR.
True, a dream is my glor [...];
But I have passions which are real truths,
The flame with in mine eyes hath appear'd to you
Too cleer, to be concealed, and the coldnes
Which you expresse unto me, quencheth not
My love, although it ruineth my hope.
ZAIDA.
This love comes very late, and really
I'm troubled at it, you know wel that I
Am otherwise engag'd.
ALMANSOR.
Alas! I cannot
Deny but I have heard say that a Lover
Favoured of Heaven is to come sho [...]l heer
To take you from mine eyes, I know you love him
[Page 36]Before you see him, therefore I'le not trouble
Your pleasures, nor his joy: how great soever
His happines be, I do intend to suffer it
VVithout complaining of you, but withall
I doe intend to die. As soon as you
Shall depart hence upon the fatal voyage
Ordained, where your happy mariage
Must be accomplish'd, Know, at the same time,
That you shall see me in my griefs excesse
Depart to go unto the grave, where those
Remains of fire which sparkle in my bosom,
After my death shall still yet warm my ashes.
ZAID:
Fortune doth ow you, Sir, a happier lot
ALM:
My good or evill lot depends on you.
All other favours would be troublesome:
Lastly I do adore you, and not fortune.
ZAIDA.
What expect you from me in the condition
Wherein I am?
ALMANSOR.
Immortall heats and torments;
I still must love without hope to be loved.
ZAIDA.
Who loves much, may hope to be loved likewise.
ALMANSOR.
What may I hope one day for better usage?
ZAIDA.
Consult with your fidelity upon it.
ALM:
Your soul appeareth too insensible
To love.
ZAID:
A constant Lover may do much;
The first refusal ought not to astonish
Any one that hath love enough to give it.
ALMANSOR
Oh this is plain enough to my glad sense!
ZAIDA.
[Page 37]The blood strikes up unto my brow; alas!
I've said too much, and now I blush for shame on't.
ALM:
This glorious confession rendereth me
Too happy and content.
ZAID:
Dreams sometimes are not
VVithout effect; but the Sun hath already
Finished his career, let us go in
Yet further to discourse upon this matter
I fear that troublesome.
SCENE IV.
ADIBAR, ZAIDA, ALMANSOR,
ADIBAR.
Without too much ambition may I hope
The honour to take you by the fair hand
The one is free, may I presume to kisse it?
ZAIDA.
I have no need, Sir, of your services.
ADIBAR.
They may be worth a Strangers, notwithstanding
Your scorn of me.
ZAIDA.
In thinking to oblige me,
You may displease me, by this odd expression.
ADIBAR.
The Prophet, who knows how I reverence you,
Knows also how far forth I fear your anger,
And the cares which I take, should well assure you,
That I come heer but for to honour you:
[Page 28]May I aside declare a secret to you
Of some importance?
ZAIDA.
Nothing 'is so important
As decency, which in th' opinion
Of every one, allowes we not the Liberty
To hear the secrets of such as you are.
ADIBAR.
I desire nothing of you what another
Doth not obtain▪
ZAIDA.
His discourse pleaseth me,
And yours I hate.
ALMANSOR.
You take an unfit time
To tell your secrets, to the indiscreet
Love seldome is propitious; th incivility
Which your pride doth expresse, is an ill meās
To gain esteem.
ADIBAR.
I am not heer to take
Lessons from you.
ALMANSOR.
I give them to your equals
To all intents and purposes.
ADIBAR.
This passion.
Which carries you away, convicteth you,
And doth excuse me of the incivility
Wherewith your errour charged me; a man
Better instructed, to avoid suspition,
Would have retir'd himself out of respect;
You are too grosse; but as you are a Stranger,
I ought to bear a little with your ignorance.
ZAIDA.
You have [...]he faults which you cōdemn in him;
[Page 39]This Stranger doth oblige me, and you trouble me.
ADIBAR.
Yet you should take away your hand from him —
to Zaida.
ALMANSOR.
If she should do it, you would be in danger.
ADIBAR.
In quitting her, you might run to your death.
ALMNASOR.
I respect Zaida, you I do despise.
ADIBAR.
If by the same respect I were not stop'd,
In my revenge, your punishment should soon
Follow your insolence.
Zaida quitting, Almansors hand.
ZAIDA.
These hasty motions
Are sorry passtimes for me; by this violence
I know that neither of you doth respect me,
But both offend me.
ALMMANSOR.
Do you take
Your hand from me to answer his desires?
My Rivall will become too proud at this:
Should you affrōt me wit design to please him?
ZAIDA.
By what right also am I bound to give
You satisfaction?
ADIBAR.
Madam, I beseech you,
Vse no constraint to your free inclination
In my behalf, I know which of us two
Pleaseth you best, I yeild to him in fortune,
And perhaps too in merit, his discourse
Is acceptable, mine is hatefull to you;
[Page 40]Of this truth I cannot be ignorant;
Therefore to th'end I may not trouble you,
I will retire me, my respect for you
Is stronger then the jealousie, wherewith
My amourous soul is justly seised now,
And I will force all my resentiments for you,
Yea evē to hate my self, if you should hate me.
Let here my happy Rivall without trouble
Discourse with you, establish, if you please,
His happines at the expense of mine;
But take this into your consideration
That Adibar, who quits you with regret,
Though the least lov'd, is not the least discreet.
ZAIDA.
VVhere go you Adibar? come back again.
ADIBAR.
My absence will oblige you.
ZAIDA.
No, once more
I say come back again; if you esteem me,
You will return, to take away suspitions
Opposed to my glory, lend me, pray you,
Your hand, and lead me back. —
he gives her his hand.
ALMANSOR.
Oh! I cannot
Suffer this cruell injury.
ZAIDA.
Almansor,
Stay I command you, on pain of my hate.
ALMAN [...]OR.
Hear me a word or two,
ZAIDA.
I can 't be mov'd.
Reason I hear, and duty is my guide.
Exeunt Zaida and Adibar.
SCENE V.
ALMANZOR.
What unexpected clap of thunder's this,
Which ruineth my joy thus with my hope?
Reason I hear, and duty is my guide;
My constancy, at these words giveth place
To my despair; and duty is my guide
No, cruell Zaida in following Adibar,
Tis Love that guides you: but what! I may be
Too rash in censuring her so; perhaps
She doth enforce herself in quitting me▪
And doth prefer my Rivall here before me,
To take off all suspition of our love.
She loves, she loves me; oh▪ what say I, fool?
without doubt she hath left me through contempt.
Love, like to fickle Fortune is in constant.
His Empire, doth resemble his who doth
Command the sea, where nothing is secure,
To day a calm, to morrow a sad storm,
And every minute, the most fortunate
Vpon that element, may fear a change.
Even in the Port, We often suffer Shipwrack:
These are sad truths, whereof I need not doubt:
But what maketh my Slave so hastily
T'addresse his steps unto me?
SCENE VI.
ALMANSOR, GAZUL▪
ALMANZOR.
Hast thou found
Gomella?
GAZVL.
[Page 42]Yes, Sir and I think that he
Advāceth heer with large steps to embrace yo [...]
ALMANSOR.
Tis that which my care should prevent.
GAZVL.
Must I
Withdraw whilst you discourse?
ALMANSOR.
Yes, and be sure
Thou fail not to prepare for me a consort
Of Musick.
GAZVL.
How a consort, Sir, so late?
ALMANSOR.
SCENE VII.
GOMELLA, ALMANSOR.
GOMELLA.
Oh! Sir,
How glad am I to see you heer again?
ALMANSOR.
My joy in seeing you is no lesse great:
But speak we of my mother.
GOMELLA.
Stay her comming;
To morrow without fail she arrives here
Vnknown.
ALMANSOR.
Vnknown! and why dares she not to be se [...]
GOMELLA.
The secret only you must know from her,
ALMANSOR.
Comes not my Sister?
GOMELLA.
[Page 43]You must not expect her.
ALMANSOR.
Where is her residence?
GOMELLA.
I cannot tell you.
ALMANSOR.
How's this, Gomella, what can I imagine
In the uncertainty wherein you leave me?
I am astonished at this proceeding;
Your obscure language is a cleer presage
Of a conceal d misfortune: Oh! my Sister
Is dead, I need not doubt it.
GOMELLA.
Her death is not
The evill which should attrist you.
ALMANSOR.
What, is't then
Hapned vnto her?
GOMELLA.
No, but something worse.
ALMANSOR.
That word is not sufficient to cleer me:
Shall I not know why I receiv'd an order
To depart from [...]missa where I was
Brought up, to come with al speed to these quarters,
T [...]addresse my self to you with confidence,
To change my true name of Abencerage
Into that of Almansor, and to have
A care not to reveale my family?
GOMELLA
Vpon this point I must shut up my mouth:
Y m not allowed to say more unto you.
It is you Mothers absolute injunction,
And request to me; have but patience
[Page 44]Vntill to morrow, when you shal be satisfied
From her own mouth; but the Sun, I perceive,
Already groweth pale before the Moon.
Enter into my cot, and take with me
A poor repast.
ALMANSOR.
I doe desire to be
Dispens'd thereof now, if it pleaseth you.
GOMELLA.
VVhere will you go?
ALMANSOR.
Zegry expecteth me
On my engagement at his house to night.
GOMELLA.
Zegry, what say you, what charm doth oblige you
To answer so ill to Abencerage name,
To that debate, which for a thousand reasons
Is, between your two houses, as it were,
Hereditary?
ALMANSOR.
A far juster duty
Inviteth me to love him: but for him,
I'd lost my life in Cairo, treacherous enemies
Encompassed me round, and had he not
Succoured me speedily, I had been murthered:
His name, which I knew well without discovering
Mine own, disturb'd my new born amity;
But his goodnes for me, his cares, his kindnes,
Soon dissipated all those old resentements;
And so in order to the friendship which
Conjoined us, at last we came together
Into this country, where I was oblig'd
By the same frienship to lodge no where else
But at home with him.
GOM:
[Page 45]Oh Heaven! but proceed.
ALMANSOR.
You know his Sister: at first sight of her,
I was her servant: by a powerfull charm
VVhose art she only knows, her fair eyes paid
But one look for the purchase of my heart;
And if the God of marriage. —
GOMELLA.
Soft, hold there.
Take heed you flatter not your self with such
A fatall hope, destroy your passions,
Or you destroy your honour.
ALMANSOR.
How, my honour?
GOMELLA.
Yes, Sir, your honour, what! doth this discourse
Surprise and trouble you?
ALMANSOR.
I fear the name
Of an ingratefull person.
GOMELLA.
Fear that also
Of a low spirited one; these shamefull motiōs
Do wound your duty.
ALMANSOR.
May I not know how?
GOMELLA.
To morrow, when you see your Mother here,
You shall be satisfied, in the mean time,
Hate both the Sister, and the brother.
ALM:
Hate them?
I who have been so much oblig'd unto them?
No, no, I swear —
GOM:
Swear not but let us entet;
Your mind will change, when you have heard th'adventure.
The end of the Second Act.
ACT III,
SCENE I.
ZEGRY, ORMIN.
ZEGRY.
THe night approacheth, it is time to put
This letter with my hope into thy hands:
Work on her Slave, and act discreetly, t [...]at
She take this diamond from thee, afterward
Vse all the skill thou hast to know the secrets
Of her disdainfull Mistresse, and consider
That I expect at thy return to hear
The sentence of my life▪ or of my death.
ORMIN.
Cruell commandment, whereunto I see
My felfreduc'd!—
aside.
One word, Sir, ere I go.
Think well upon it yet, what hope have you?
Your importunities will increase her anger,
And you should do much better, If I durst
To tell you so, henceforth to free your self
Of this unworthy Empire; as love is
The price of love, so hate should alwaies be
The recompense of hate, and of contempt.
Your soul's are too ill suited to unite,
Love loseth his power in Antipathies,
And tis an equall crime, Sir, in a contrary
Effect, to hate who Loves us, or to love
Who hates us.
ZEGRY.
Oh! speak no more on't unto me:
My evill's invincible, and my soul feels
Too sensibly the charms which doe destroy me;
To overcome my griefs, which have no equals
[Page 47]I seek some gentle succour, and not counsel,
My chain, alas! is too strong, and my heart
Too weak, as not to yeild unto the torrent
which carries me away.
ORMIN.
O rigorous Fate!—
aside.
But if all your indeavours ate in vain,
If fierce Fatima still persist in her
Former disdains—
ZEGRY.
what pleasure dost thou take
T'increase my troubles? hide her rigours to me
And speak but of her charms: my heart is try [...]d
By torments great enough, it need not be
afflicted with an evill not yet arriv'd.
flatter my weaknes, though therein thou shew
Thy self lesse faithfull, if thou dost desire
To interest thy self in my misfortunes.
ORMIN.
Sir, if your eyes could penetrate into
The secrets of my heart, you would soon [...]ind
How great an interest I take in them,
And that if your lot lay within my power,
Your pleasures should soon passe your hope, I call
The Prophet, so much honoured amongst us,
To witnes [...] that I feel the counterstroa [...]s
Of all your troubles, that I'm grieved for them
Asmuch as you, and tremble in like manner,
Lastly that you are dearer to me far
Then you imagine, that my happines
Depends on the successe of your amours,
And that it is for you alone my heart
Makes its devotions.
ZEGRY.
Grant it gracious Heaven
[Page 48]That thy zeal happily succeed in touching
In my behalf the soul of that ingratefull:
My sister hath already been with her,
And I believe she hath not fail'd to speak
To her for me, their friendship flatters me;
And gives me leave to hope that who esteem
The sister, may in time cherish the brother.
Adiew, perform thy duty, and return
With speed to calm the tempests of my spirit
—Exit Zegry
ORMIN.
I will indeavour with permission of
The holy Prophet, to hear such successe
As I desire.
SCENE II.
ORMIM
alone.
WHereto shall I resolve me in this sad
Extremity? shall I sollicit now
My Rivall gainst my self in the behalf
Of an ingratfull Master that doth wrong me
And though he appeares blind to my disadvantage,
Shall I approve my self so more then he?
What shall I presse th'effect of what I fear?
Shall I give him content at my sad cost,
By a constraint so cruell? and shall I
Become my self the faithfull Minister
Of the injustices which he doth do me?
No, no, let us not serve with so much heat
To trouble us yet with a new misfortune,
A person who cost me so many tears:
If I must die, at least let me not give
[Page 49]Arms for to peirce my heart; o'th contrary,
Let me act so, that he may hope for nothing
From fair Fatima, let me without scruple
Betray this false one, and deprive him of
A good which would become so fa'tal to me.
I should ground all the hope thats left unto me
Vpon the losse of his. But how is this,
That at these words I tremble with affright?
I find my heart already riseth up
Against me in behalf of this false Master.
Alas! how cruel and perfidious
Soer he be, I cannot fail of faith
To wards him, but must love, and serve him truly.
'Tis so resolv'd, my anger must give place
Vnto the love that raigneth in my bosom:
An ill example never justifies
A crime: let us deliberate no more;
But what's the noise I hear? it is Fatima
That passeth, and Charifa follows her.
SCENE III.
FATIMA, CHARIFA, ORMIN
FATIMA.
THis foul contemps which Zaida offers me
Provokes me highly, [...]o far was this false one
From hindering Adibar to visit her,
(As she engag'd herself in promise to me)
That she accepted kindly of his hand,
To disoblige me; tis an injury
Of such a nature as requires reveng.
CHARIFA.
[Page 50]The affront is known unto your self, you saw it
With your own eyes, and to speak truely Madame,
The injustice is extream.
FATIMA.
Know that my anget
Is so too; let us enter, it is late,
This night shall give us counsell.
ORMIN.
I'l go one,
And stay no longer, las! I dare not open
My mouth, nor keep it shut. Love, I beseech thee,
Mingle at least some good in the great masse.
Of my misfortunes, graunt that in demanding
All things of her, she grant me nothing for him. —
aside.
Madame, shall I find so much goodnes from you
As to allow me the sweet liberty
To leave this letter heer in your fair hands?
It commeth from a Louer the most passionate
Of all those which the Lustre of your eyes.
Hath made slaves; and who, not withstanding all
The love wherewith his soul is seis'd, hath griven you
Some cause of plaint.
FATIMA.
Of plaint! ist Adibar
That writes vnto me? Softly to Charifa.
CHARIFA.
Wtihout doubt tis he,
My heart doth tell me so.
FATIMA.
[Page 51]What would that false one
Desire of me?
ORMIN.
How cruell is this sweetnes
To me?—
aside.
The end of his desires is to
Appear before you, highly to detest
His insolēt crime, he would expresse the trouble
Wherewirh his soul is press'd, to the Divinity
Iustly offended, and receive in making
His fault worthy to be forgot, a pardon.
Or death at your fair feet.
FATIMA.
I desire not
His death; but I would have him live and hope▪
How late soever his repentance comes,
I love it, and 't is welcome. My heart is
Already pacified by thy discourse.
ORMIN.
I have for my misfortune, too well sped.—
aside.
FATIMA.
Lets see with what, air, in this letter he
Vtters his thought, we will go in to read it▪
And to give answer; since he is no longer
Obstinate in his coldnes, I will send
His pardon sign'd and seal'd.
ORMIN.
How full of joy
Will Zegry be at my return?
FATIMA.
What say you?
Zegry.
ORMIN.
Tis he that sends me, he will kisse
The words where with y'ave flatter'd him.
[Page 52] Fatima tearing his letter.
FATIMA.
This is
My answer, go, and carry it unto him. —
Exit Fatima.
SCENE IV.
ORMIN, CHARIFA.
ORMIN.
THis in equality astonisheth
And puzleth me, —
Charifa!
CHARIFA.
No, good night.
ORMIN.
Hear me, I pray thee.
CHARIFA.
I take no delight
To talk with fools
ORMIN.
Stay yet a little.
CHARIFA.
I have not the leisure.
Adieu, fair prater!
ORMIN.
Be not so ungentle.
My hād shall speak gould, to supply my mouth
CHARIFA.
I do'nt believe thee.
ORMIN.
Believe the event.
From Zegry take this diamond.
CHARIFA.
To betraye,
And sell my Mistresse? God defend, I will not
Receive it-
ORMIN.
[Page 53]Be not such a simple creature.
CHARIFA.
I take it then to please thee, but accept it
Vnto a good intent: the stone's not false,
At least I think so.
ORMIN.
Thou mayst be assur'd on't,
Tis very fair, and perfect.
CHARIFA.
Pardon me,
My words might seem t'imply a doubt, that I
Suspected thee, but I am innocent.
ORMIN.
Wilt thou not tell me by what fatall errour
Thy mistresse humour chang'd so suddenly?
And how it came, that only at the name
Of Zegry her heart presently grew cold,
Although enflam'd with my discourse before?
CHARIFA.
I love thee but too well; and if rhou wilt
Be secret, I'l discover unto thee
This secret of importance, this hid mistery.
ORMIN.
Thou wilt oblige me much, speak, I'm discreet.
And will concea'lt as closely as thy selfe.
CHARIFA.
Fatima then loves Adibar asmuch
As she doth hate thy Master; but for her,
Adibar by a pleasant fair return
Hath no, lesse coldnes then thy master love.
Thou knowst that thou art not yet known of her,
And that love oftentimes troubleth the brain:
Hence was it, that at first she did believe
That Adibar sent thee to speak to her;
[Page 54]But since she knew her errour, she was mad;
I hear a noise, let us speak soft I fear
We should be heard.
SCENE. V.
ALABEZ, ORMIN, CHARIFA
ALABEZ.
THe Devill! where thinks my Master
That I should meet with Ormin? it is night
And I can't find my way.
CHARIFA.
Prethee be still.
ORMIN.
Let me alone▪ thy honour is not much
In danger with me.
CHARIFA.
Foh! my diamond
Is fallen from my finger.
ORMIN.
Without doubt
The grasse conceals it from our sight.
CHARIFA.
We may
Seek it a good while ere we find it heer.
ORMIN.
Yes in this manner, I'le go fetch a light▪
Exit Ormin.
SCENE VI.
ALABEZ, CHARIFA.
CHARIFA.
Return I've found it. —
taking him for Ormin.
ALABEZ.
[Page 55]I should know that voice;
It is Charifa, strange! what might she do
So late heer in these woods? I will approach
A little neerer. —
aside.
CHARIFA.
Thou but jests with me,
Kisse me no more, if thou dost, I'l retire.
ALABEZ:
A rare piece this! I must hear all.
CHARIFA.
Yes really,
Promise me to be quiet, or I'l leave thee.
This is a little too much liberty
At first, I am a maid that stands upon
My reputation, and fear evill tongues,
I hold my honour very precious to me.
ALABEZ.
Thou seek'st to lose it, and invitest him
To take it from thee. —
aside.
CHARIFA.
What! thou speakest not
A word unto me.
ALABEZ.
Excellent adventure!
CHARIFA.
How doth thy heart sigh, and thy close mouth murmur?
Those liberties, for all what I have said,
May be excus [...]d, if thou will marry me;
Thou know'st that one must marry, to love well
And if I please thee. —
ALABEZ.
Oh? what impudence?
CHARIFA.
What say'st thou?
ALABEZ.
[Page 56]I am much surpris'd, by Heaven.
CHARIFA.
What! answerest thou nothing? should this be
Through a contempt? I think that I'm not yet
So torn by time, as not to be thought worthy
To be considered; thou knowest well
Alabez, if I would have had that fellow.
My marriage with him had been already
Concluded, but that is a lowt, and hath not
The art to please me as thou hast, his faults
Are more considered by me, then his services.
ALABEZ.
The impudent jeers at me to my face.
CHARIFA.
That troublesome never did any thing
Which pleased me, he hath a sottish spirit,
And silly carriage; if the fool should marry me
I would not passe my word that he should not
Be one of those which every one points at
With' finger, which permit their neighbours to
Think their wives fair, ād which we commōly
Call cuckoulds.
SCENE VII.
ORMIN, CHARIFA, ALABEZ.
ORMIN.
SEe heer, I have brought you light.
CHARIFA.
What have I done? this is a grosse mistake.
ALABEZ.
What think'st thou; have not I much cause to be
[Page 57]Well satisfied? I have done nothing then
That ever pleas'd thee, I've a sottish spirit
And silly carriage. Thou shouldst die with shame.
CHARIFA.
Why? prethee? I have uttered but a truth.
ALABEZ.
But a truth, traitresse, o thou brazen face!
What! If I married thee, thou dangerous beast
I should be of the number of those people
Which we call cuckoulds? thy impertinent tongue
Lied a hundred times, I'd rather chuse
A rope then such a bed fellow:
ORMIN.
Whence springs
Your quarrel?
ALABEZ:
Peace a while, I shall in good time
Talk with you, friend, companion of iil luck
Ormin putting out the candle.
ORMIN.
We must be gone, there's nothing to be gotten
But blows heer by a fool.—
Exeunt Ormin and Charifa.
SCENE VIII.
ALMANSOR, GASVL, ALABEZ▪ ADIBAR.
ALMANSOR.
GOe see whence comes this noise.
ALABEZ.
Oh have I met thee, —
giving Gasul a buffett.
precious Apostle?
GASVL.
How base traitor!
ALABEZ.
[Page 58]Pardon me,
I took thee for another, in good faith:
I sought a raskal that escaped me,
To whom I did intend that injury
But I shall soon o'r take him without running.
Exit Alabe.
ALMANSOR.
Hast learnt the cause of those cōfused rumours▪
GASVL.
No, but I have beene beaten by a person,
Who afterward made me excuses for't-
ALMANSOR.
The house is not far of, give order to
The voices to advance, and bid them sing
Neer to that Little wood.
Adibar appearing on the other side:
ADIAAR.
See, friends, the place
Where Zasda dwels, if you are ready now,
Begin immediately.
The first song.
YE deserts, and dark cells
Where night and silence dwells
You whom I trust with my sad cares.
GASVL.
This voice belongs not to our company.
ALMANSOR.
This Stanza finishd, let us be prepar'd
To sing forthwith the ayr which I compos [...]d.
Ye deserts and dark cells,
Where night and silence dwells,
You whom I trust with my sad cares,
With all my deaths, and my despairs,
[Page 59]Rocks, forrests, and thick Shades,
Which the Sun ne'r invades,
You in whose bosomes I enclose
My love, my sighs, my plaints, and woes:
Alas! when will you be
Keepers of my felicity?
Second Song.
Ye brooks, and Zephirs sweet,
Which heer in Spring-time meet
To water and perfume these plains
ADIBAR.
What insolēt voice troubles our confort heer?
Th'affront shal not passe without punishment
Ye Brooks, and Zephirs sweet,
Which heer in Spring-time meet
To water and perfume these plains
Frequented by the amorous Swains
Favour me not to flovv
Oblige me not to blow,
Vntill my tears their course have spent,
And my sighs given my gr [...]efs full vent,
Then in your Channells glid [...],
And winds breathe, as before, in pride.
ADIBAR.
Who art thou that dar'st heer to trouble me?
ALMANSOR.
My name is too well known to be conceal [...]d.
I'm call'd Almansor.
ADIBAR.
Fear, fear then mine anger.
I'm Adibar, thy greatest Enemy
Who to meet thee, have made some weary steps
Vnto no purpose; now when least I sought thee
I've found thee; tell me, how comes it that thou
[Page 60]Takest a licence to besiege my Mistresse
With so much insolence? dost visit her,
As friend unto her brother, or as Lover
And servant unto her?
ALMANSOR,
Content thy self
To understand that as the brothers friend,
The Sister doth accept my services,
And that I reverence her: assure thy self
That if I were so happy as to be
Her Lover, I should be discret enough,
Not to acquaint thee with it.
ADIBAR.
These refinings,
And juglings which thou usest to defend thee,
Cannot withdraw thee from my just revenge,
Thou shalt die.—
Drawes
ALMANSOR.
Rather fear that my sword heer —
drawes.
Peircing thy heart, quēch thy love in thy blood.
SCENE IX.
ZEGRY, ADIBAR, ALMANSOR.
ZEGRY.
FOr bear, and moderate this barbarous fury,
What means this, friends?
ADIBAR.
Nothing, since we are parted.
ZEGRY.
Oh, ist you Adibar?
ALMANSOR.
This is not the Song
Which I desire.
ADIBAR.
[Page 61]Zegry, thou dost me wrong.
ZEGRY.
What cause, dear friend, could animate thee so?
Permit me, I beseech you having parted you,
To reconcile you too at the same time:
I take an interest in your debats:
Let me know therfor what your differnce is.
ADIBAR.
Zegry in vaine you interpose your felf
To hinder the proceeding, my revengt
Is just, and your cares but prolong his life
For some few minures. —
Exit. Adibar.
SCENE. X.
ZEGRY, ALMANSOR.
ZEGRY.
DEare Almansor tell me
Whence comes so strong a hate between you two?
Relate the cause on't,
ALMANSOR.
Tis not worth the labour;
This petty difference which troubles thee,
Should be determined ere known.
ZEGRY.
In vain
Thou dost persist to hide this secret from me:
Almansor, I ghesse at it; sure, some Beauty
Embroils you; I've heard heer two different consorts.
The rest I do divine.
ALMANSOR.
Friend, I confesse it;
We both at one time gave our Eve [...]ing Musick
To one and the same Mistresse.
ZEGRY.
[Page 62]May not I
Know her name, Friend?
ALMANSOR.
Heavens how am I put to t [...]?
Should I tell him that I adore his sister? -
aside.
ZEGRY.
Friend, this reservednes suits not that name,
I did not hide my amours for Fatima
From thee.
ALMANSOR.
He hath already promised
His sister; Im confounded; if I dare
To name her, what will he not say? —
aside.
ZEGRY.
This confus'd silence should sufficiently
Instruct me that he doth adore Fatima,
And dares not tell it me —
aside.
What! shall I not
Know then what object hath subjected thee?
ALMANSOR.
Her fair name uttered would make us enemies,
Instead of doing thee a courtesy
I should do thee an injur [...]; adiew;
Dispense me to say more on't.
ZEGRY.
How is this!
Wilt thou not go unto my house?
ALMANSOR
Excuse me,
This night I am engag'd by promise to
Lodge at Gomella's.
ZEGRY.
How! Gomella's, sayst thou?
ALMANSOR.
Yes, I fear that he stays for me, adiew,
[Page 63]I'ue promised him, and I can't fail my word.
Exit Almansor.
Zegry alone.
ZEGRY
The traitor Loves Fatima: and intends
To marry her: to judge on't otherwife,
Is to abuse my self; yes owing me,
His life, he makes use of it to destroy me;
But he that could save it, can also ruine it;
And his death loudly shall proclaime to all
That the same arm which serves the innocent,
Can punish the ingratefull insolent.
The End of the third Act.
ACT IV.
SCENE I.
ALMANSOR, GOMELLA
ALMANSOR.
YOu shal not go alone to meet my mother,
I I follow you, Gomella.
GOMELLA
That needs not
Her order doth oblige you to expect her
Here at my house.
ALMANSOR.
But nature doth impose
A stronger law upon me.
GOMELLA.
Sir she hath not
[Page 64]Vnderstood of your comming yet, your sight
Will be too sudden a surprise, for bear
Till I acquaint her with it.
ALMANSOR
I expect
No blame in this encounter; If I should
Surprise her, it would be delightfully:
GOMELLA.
Seeing you will, let's go together then.
ALMANSOR.
I do but what I ought.
GOMELLA.
I speak my thoughts.
ALMANSOR.
Zegry comes forth his house; before I go,
I must embrace him.
GOMELLA.
Stay, you may not do it.
ALMANSOR.
Constraint's unjust, asmuch as it is cruell:
Ought I to fly a friend so dear, so faithfull?
Suffer me to speak to him, and I'l follow you
Immediately.
GOMELLA.
I cannot, for I have an expresse order
Vnto the contrary. —
Exeunt.
SCENE II.
ZEGRY, ORMIN.
ZEGRY.
ORmin, did [...]st thou observe how carefully
That traitor shun [...]d me assoon as he saw me?
Did'st mark how he was troubled at first,
How he advanc'd, a step or two to Wards me,
[Page 65]And then went back again, how he resign'd
The place unto me in confusion,
Press'd with the stings of his ingratitude?
ORMIN.
What ever I observed, it can never
Enter into my thought Almansor should
Be guilty of so base and black a crime;
And though in shew I find him culpable,
I esteem him incapable to commit
Any base act; he still appear'd vnto me
A person of much honour, and too jealous
Thereof, so ill t'imploy the life which he
Holdeth of you: besides I find within me
A certain secret instinct which I
Can [...]t comprehend, that when I should accuse him,
Forceth me to defend him.
ZEGRY.
Seeing me
To cheris'h that too much belov'd Ingratefull,
Thou art accustom'd also to caresse him.
I can't believe, neither that he betrays me,
Nor can I doubt ont, that's my punishment.
And those sweet motions, which I scarce can banish,
Aggravate his offence, instead of lessening it:
Iudge then how much I am to be lamented
In this condition, the onely good
That rests to me, is to fear nothing more.
Fortune would not afflict me h [...]er by halfs;
I lose a Mistresse, and a friend together:
Both injure me, and I have so much weaknes,
That I can't hate the Mistresse, nor the Friend;
But could'st thou yesterday learn from Charifa
Why fair Fatima hath so much contempt
Within her bosome for me? thou hast told me
[Page 66]That Adibar doth charm her, but thou hast not
Tould me from whence her hatred doth proceed.
ORMIN.
Fatima, if I may believe what hath
Been told me, alwaies did abhore you for
Vnfaithfullnes, she hath some reason to
Be [...]ieve you false, and this is that as far
As I can understand, which doth oblige her
To be so cruell to you.
ZEGRY.
False, sayst thou?
I never was so.
ORMIN.
She hath understood though,
That a maid call'd Zelinda, faire enough,
Very young, and of an illustrious family,
And who received sometime many services
From you, being almost on the point to see you
Her husband, and when all things were dispos'd
And ready for the mariage was fouly
For saken by you and despis'd; it seems
That this example toucheth, and doth teach her
That who can once, can chāge a thousād times,
ZEGRY.
Ormin, this change is no inconstancy.
ORMIN.
It would be very hard to prove it innocent:
ZEGRY.
VVithout doubt this pretended mariage
Made a great noise; but I wil tell thee all
ORMIN.
VVhat will th'ingratefull say?
— aside
ZEGRY:
Before that mariage was concluded which
[Page 67]VVas to unite us to Abencerage blood,
And by that means at last to quench the heat
Of an old hatred, fair Fatima was
Already Mistresse of my heart; to make me
Take a new chain, Zelinda, whō they offered me
In my opinion, was not fair enough:
So that I saw her without loving her:
Her feeble Beauty could not shake the fetters
VVhich tied me, yet I indeavoured
To have som kindnes for her, but her eyes
Or my heart were not strong enoug to work it;
And if I did her any services,
It was but in design to please my parents:
Fatima there fore is to blame to think
That I am false: fince I had never love
For any but for her.
ORMIN.
Alas! I need not
Doubt more of his contempt! I was inquisitive
To know too much, and now I doe repent it.
— aside.
ZEGRY.
This is a truth, which easily can bee ptov'd?
But how comes it my sister, s up so soon?
SCENE III.
ZAIDA, MEDINA, ZEGRY, ORMIN.
ZAIDA,
Brother, have you receiv [...]d th' intelligence
Is given me of the death of him which was
Designed for my husband?
ZEGRY.
Yes, I've heard it;
It is too true, he died in Argier
O'th spotted feaver.
[Page 68]I'm unhappy by it;
But you are neer your ioy, and may discourse
Of mariage and love.
ZEGRY.
Oh, Sister, rather
Say that I must no longer now discourse
Of love nor Mariage: say that I must punish
A base and an ingratefull spirit with death
One that hath wickedly betray'd my friēdship:
Fury alone presides now in my soul,
And I must think nor speak of any thing
But of destroying a perfidious wretch.
ZAIDA.
Who is that traitor? let me know, I pray you,
What signall crime provoketh you so highly.
ZEGRY.
Thou know'st too well the Authour of my injury
His name's Almansor, his love is his crime,
ZAIDA.
His Love! What hear I?
ZEGRY.
Sister, tis too true,
His insolent love hath stirred up mine anger.
ZAIDA,
He knoweth that Almansor loveth me,
And that is it enrageth him.
— aside.
ZEGRY.
His death,
Is just, add he shall die, base, and ingratefull!
ZAIDA.
Brother, you should examine without passion
All that which might be of a friend suspected,
And we should never judge of his offence
But with much care and much indulgence: alwaies
To mingle any foul or unjust thing
In his affections; and he oweth you
Too much, to have a thought to wrong a friēd
That sav'd his lif [...]
ZEGRY.
Sister, thou dost oblige me;
Thy arguments with little contradiction
Disarm all my resentments quite; Almansor
Is so dear to me, that how ere he wrongs me,
Thou wilt do me a couttesie, to stop
My anger.
ZAIDA.
Perhaps, you have accused him unjustly.
ZEGRY.
Would that it pleased Heaven I were abus'd!
But alas! my suspition is too just,
I'l tell't thee now; he loveth
ZAIDA.
Who?
ZEGRY.
Fatima:
ZAIDA.
How! should he love Fatima? really
That crime is black:
ZEGRY.
The better to assure thee on't, tis best
Thou go to vissit her, I do believe
Thou'lt vnderstand frō her that he adores her,
And that he's false to me.
ZAIDA.
Traitor! Inconstant!
Pernitious Spirit!
ZEGRY.
But, Sister, VVhy appear you
So troubled in your eyes and countenance?
ZAIDA.
[Page 70]The trouble of mine eyes cleerly denotes
That my heart feels the evils which your friend doth you,
Your friēd, what haye I said that name suits ill
With his condition, if he be your Rivall,
He's not your friend. Goe persently to quench
His life and Love, and wash away the crimes
Of his soul in his blood.
ZEGRY.
No, Sister, no;
We should examine without passion
All that which might be of a friend suspected,
And one should never judge of his offence
But with much care and much indulgence; alwaies
Almansor hath appear'd too generous,
To mingle any foul, or vnjust thing
In his affections; and he oweth me
Too much, to have a thought to wrōg a friēd
That sau"d his life.
ZAIDA.
In what an errour are you?
ZEGRY.
If I am in an errour, I receiv'd it
From you: these were your sentiments, good Sister,
And shall be mine.
ZAIDA.
Then knew I not his crime;
But now that it is plain, take your revenge,
I will no more restrain you.
ZEGRY.
Stop me rather;
Condemn my anger, not my amity.
In favour of Almansor I would be
[Page 71]Abus'd; I will accuse him, but I would
That others should excuse him, I speak of
Revenge, but seek it not, and threaten only
But to the end to have my arme restrain'd.
His passion, perhaps, may be condemn [...]d
Vnjustly: possibly it might be born.
Before our friendship, and, perhaps Fatima
Answereth unto it, and that to unite them,
Gomellas orders do invite him heer;
If it be so, to free my self from crime,
Sister, tis just I yeild Fatima to him:
I'l break my chains, and with a setled heart
Will make the pleasures of my friend mine own.
ZAIDA,
what strange abuse, what secret charm thus softens
Your heart in the behalf of an Ingratefull:
He owes his life unto you: ought he not
T'acquit him self to wards you by all possible
Indeavours? if he be our Rivall, can you
Without much weaknes tamely give him up
Your Mistresse? if he be your friend, as you
Esteem him, ought he not to give you up
The object which you love.
ZEGRY.
Without reply
Go presently to visit fair Fatima:
And fail not fully to inform your self
Of their intelligence. —
Exit Zegry.
MEDINA ZAIDA.
MEDINA.
YOu astonish me;
I can't conceive how one can love a man,
And presse his death.
[...]
[...]
ZAIDA.
[Page 72]Oh! say not that I love
Such an ingratefull and inconstant wreteh:
Believe that if I have fires, they are fires
Of rage, and that my heart will ne'r be quiet
Till this perfidious Lover be a sacrifice
To my just anger.
MEDINA.
But you weep, Madam.
ZAIDA.
True, I weep, Medina:
If that false one should perish, I should die;
I feel that rage and tendernes, hate and love
Triumph by Turns within me: I▪m his Enemy,
And yet I am his Lover, when my anger
Encreaseth, th'other Kinder passion springs:
And though that he be louely, and hath falsely
Betray'd me, I can neither love, nor hate him
MEDINA.
Madam, speak softer, you will elce be heard.
Adibar comes towards us.
ZAIDA.
I'l not stay.
SCENE V.
ADIBAR, ZAIDA, MEDINA.
ADIBAR.
Zaida, where go you with my heart!
ZAIDA.
I pray you,
Leave me alone, and do not trouble me,
Adieu.
ADIBAR.
[Page 73]Receive my services.
ZAIDA.
I have
No need of them.
ADIBAR.
I do beseech you, hear me.
ZAIDA.
You must excuse me, I have other busines.
ADIBAR.
With a look onely, consolate my griefs;
Tis you I seek.
ZAIDA.
And tis you that I fly.
ADIBAR.
How! treat you such a faithfull Lover so?
ZAIDA.
Fatima there will be lesse cruell to you.
ADIBAR.
Mock not at her, Fatima is as fair,
Although lesse proud then you.
SCENE VI.
FATIMA, ZAIDA, ADIBAR, CHARIFA, MEDINA.
FATIMA.
VVHat Adibar
Still with this scornfull? my revenge is just,
'Tis time that it break forth. Zaida, I find you
In such a black and heavy melancholy,
That I lose the design whIch brought me hither:
Shall I dare speak of dances, revels, feasts,
And of a mariage in the condition
Wherein your are?
ZAIDA.
[Page 74]What say you, of a mariage?
FATIMA.
Since you presse me,
You shall know all; know that my Father hath
Provided one for me.
ZAIDA.
For you, Fatima?
FATIMA.
Yes, Zaida, and she bu [...]imes is well forward.
ZAIDA.
In your contents I claim an interest:
I should be glad to know your Lovers name,
FATIMA.
He's an accomplishd man, noble, and brave
And of a charming presence, and rare merit:
I doubt not but you will approve the choice
My Father hath made of him.
ZAIDA.
How she makes me
Languish to meet death? —
aside.
Well, who is the man?
FATIMA.
You know him very well;
He made long time his ordinary residence
At home with you▪ your brother Zegrys friēd
Have I yet said ynough?
ZAIDA.
Tell me his name too.
FATIMA,
Divine you not that he is call'd Almansor!
ZAIDA.
I can no more, but faint and die. —
aside.
FATIMA
[Page 75]How she
Is chang'd, she feels my pain, and I'm reveng'd
ADIBAR.
I have much interest in this event.
ZAIDA.
This match without doubt cannot chuse but please you.
FATIMA-
True, I am not of those who through a maxime
Of I know not, what modesty, blush at mariage
As if it were a crime, feign to sigh at it,
And yet in secret are sad at the heart,
If it should not be consummate. I assure you.
Vpon this point I not dissemble with you:
I no way hate the Lover that's design'd me,
I prize his love, his services, his merit
At a high rate, and if he loves me much,
He is no lesse b [...]lov'd.
ZAIDA.
It seemeth then,
He loves you very much.
FATIMA.
I can't expresse it:
He lives but for me, breatheth but for me:
I am the sole original of his good
Or evill fortune: when he sees me not,
He is in torments, and when hazard brings me
Vnto his sight, again, I have great cause
To fear that he might die with sudden joy;
Lastly if any truth be in his oaths,
All other beauties are contemptible to him.
ZAIDA.
[Page 76]Oh Heaven ! what hear I, where am I? Oh trator!
Ingratefull wretch!
— aside.
But could you so soon love him
Before yov knew him?
FATIMA.
I cannot be blam'd
For this quick love, I saw in him at first
All things that might induce a maid to love:
Besides heerein I execute the order
My Father doth ordain, I willingly
Obey his will; and since he hath chosen him
For son in law and for support, I think
That he is worthy of it, and conform
My self unto him.
ZAIDA.
But what are your thoughts
Of Adibar?
ADIBAR.
I dare not to pretend
To her pass'd goodness more.
FATIMA.
He deserv'd not
The honour of my love; he changed first,
And I change at my turn.
ZAIDA.
He was not alwaies
Vnworthy to please you; can you forget him?
FATIMA.
Yes, and with much justice, and reason too,
He is to me the most ingratefull person
Vpon the earth; his contempt was unjust,
But mine is not so. Let us cease to speak
Of that inconstant Lover; I will pay him
Hatred for hatred, contempt for contempt.
[Page 77]Let us again talk of our mariage,
And let me know if I may have the honour
To see you there,
ZAIDA.
Excuse me, I'm oppress'd
With a great pain, which is redoubled
Since your discourse, so that I'm rendered
Incapable to be present there, and am
Enforc'd to quit you at this very instant.
ADIBAR.
I wait you; suffer me to pay the service
I owe you. —
He leads her by the arm?
ZAIDA.
I am forced through my weaknes
To accept your support.—
Exeunt Zaida & Adibar
SCENE VII.
FATIMA, CHARIFA.
FATIMA.
ZAida feels my discase, but Adibar
Fli [...]s me; herein my revenge is compleat,
Though my hope be destroyd.
CHARIFA.
You have lost nothing
By that, Almansor's worth a thousand of him
FATIMA.
Iudge better of my plaint, what I have said
Is but a fiction; I perceive Medina
And thou are intimate, she could not chuse
But tell thee that Almansor's very dear
To the ingratefull Zaida, this I heard
From thy own mouth.
CHARIFA.
[Page 78]Well.
FATIMA.
This devise of mine,
In feigning that Almansor was to marry me,
Is to revenge me of her for admitting,
Contrary to her promise, my false Lover
To addresse courtship to her, and to punish her
For the evills which she hath procured me.
CHARIFA.
How cunning are you! this deccit is notable.
SCENE VIII.
ADIBAR FATIMA
FATIMA.
HOw! quit so soon the object of your heart?
ADIBAR.
I studied more her rest then my content.
FATIMA.
You appear seised with an extream sadnes.
ADIBAR.
I cannot see that suffer which I love,
Without grief:
FATIMA.
Zaida sure, repulsed you.
ADIBAR.
My respect only put me of, and not
Her cruelty,
FATIMA.
If she were just, or generous
She would despise a lover that's unfaithfull.
ADIBAR.
I were to blame, if I should complain of her.
FATIMA.
[Page 79]Almansers fortune is more sweet with me
ADIBAR.
I'm to well satisfied, to be jealous of it.
FATIMA.
You do but flatter you with a vain hope,
Zaida hath but disdain, and hate for you.
ADIBAR.
Her hate and her disdain are ended now;
And our hearts speedily shall be united
By mariage.
FATIMA.
But Sir, you may be mistaken
In your accompt, and hope; do you not know
That Zaida's promis'd?
ADIBAR.
Rather you may be
Deceiv [...]d in this point: perhaps you know not
That he who was to marry her, is dead.
FATIMA.
How is he dead?
ADIBAR.
Yes Madam, and fair Zaida
Propitious at last, will render justice
To my devout affection, and did
Assure me when I took my leave of her
That she would marry me, if I could get
Her brother to consent unto 't; adiew;
To obtain this so dear and pretious Beauty,
I must addresse me to her brother, and
Solicit my best friends. —
Exit Adibar.
SCENE IX.
FATIMA, CHARIFA.
FATIMA.
WHat have I done?
Alas! my fiction hath only serv'd
To dispose Zaida to deprive me of
My Lover.
CHARIFA.
Madam. —
FATIMA.
Leave me; in a fate
So sad as this, every thing hurts, destroyes,
And makes me desperate.
CHARIFA.
Will you not hear me?
FATIMA.
No, I hear nothing but the fury which
Raigns in my confuf'd spirits, grief seiseth me
And anger doth transport me.
CHARIFA.
Madam, comfort you.
FATIMA.
Oh that I were dead! cease to comfort me
In such a just despair put me to bed,
Or in my grave there to lye buried.
The End [...]f the fourth Act.
ACT V.
SCENE I.
GOMELLA, LINDARACHE, ALMANSOR.
GOMELLA.
YOu see the cote where I make my abode.
LINDARACHE.
Sir, if you please, I shall desire to be
Private a while here with my son, and presently
I'm yours.
ALMANSOR.
Oh Madam, oh dear Mother,
In this blest time shal I obtain the honour
Of your embracements?
LINDERACHE.
Stay, Abencerage,
Know our dishonour first, and shew thy self
My son before I embrace thee, I was mother
Of two fair children, when a Ravisher
Stole away both my Daughter, and thy Sister.
ALMANSOR.
Good God! what do you tell me?
LINDARACHE
That thy Sister
Is ravished.
ALMANSOR.
Name but the Ravisher▪
And he is dead.
LINDERACHE.
Come, now embrace me, Son, this saying makes me
Believe that Heaven hath given thee me for to
Revenge me.
ALMANSOR.
[Page 82]Let me know his name, I swear
By th' holy Prophet, that his blood shal wash
The injury, and that this arm of mine
Shall sacrifice him instantly unto you.
LINDARACHE
Thou shall know all, hearken, and let me speak:
Thou art not ignorant of the enmity
Which raign'd for many ages twixt the houses
O'th' Zegries, and of the Abencerages:
Now thou must know that on th' opinion
Conceived that a mariage would put end
To this contention, my daughter was
Design'd for wife to Zegry; every thing
Was ready, and the day appointed, when
Through an aversion, or rather through
Contempt, the trecherous Zegry flying our
Alliance, hastily embark'ed himself
For Argser; and to add unto our griefs,
Assoon as this report was spread, my daughter
Was seen no more.
ALMANSOR.
O Heaven! who should be cause
Of this misfortune?
LINDERACHE.
Read this letter heer,
It will inform thee fully
Almansor reads the Letter.
LETTER.
YOu, from whom, I receiv'd my breath,
Know that a sad fate worse then d [...]ath
Is hapened to me, all our name
In my loss [...] bear an equall shame:
[Page 83]The false and cruel Zegry is
The Author of my miseries;
For he it it that by his charms
Hath taken me out of your arms,
Zelinda.
ALMANSOR
What have I heard!
LINDERACHE.
Abominable truths.
ALMANLOR.
Zegry her ravisher! oh fatall news!
LINDERACHE.
In this misfortune I had so much judgment
To hide this our dishonour, and her rape:
By the advice of the illustrious,
And wise Gomella, I spread every where
The rumour of her death, and sent thee order
At the same time to depart from Tremissa
And to come heer: lastly in Tunis staying
Thy comming, I passed an unknown life
In tears and lamentation: and seeing
The time of thy return to be at hand,
I came heer to this fatall residence:
I find thee, and my grief is charm'd already,
To see my just rage in thy soule imprinted,
And thy brave arm dispos'd to take revenge,
And to deprive that wretch of life, who hath
Deprived us of honour.
ALMAOSOR.
Oh how many
Afflictions seise! my heart!
LINDARACHE.
Tis time to punish,
Not to deplore, in such a fatall fortune
[Page 84]Expresse thy grief by bloody brave effects
Of rage and courage, vain regrets, and sighs
Suit with my sex, revenge belongs to thee.
Thou knowest the offender, go repair
Th▪offence: I would not have reserv'd for thee
Th Imployment, if I could revenge my self
Without thee; and I had already seen
The punishment of Zegry, If I would
Have us [...]d Gomellas service; thy arm only
Must wash the stam of from tby brow; take all
The reuenge to thee, as th' affront's all thine:
Seeme no more until thou hast reveng'd
Thy Sister, Goe, seek, find and punish fully
Her barbarous ravisher; adiew, perform
Thy duty, and make thy self to appear
A worthy branch of that ill [...]strions stock
Of Heros, from whose loines thou art descēded;
To end our common miseries and fears,
Go thou to shed blood, I goe to shed tears.—
Exit Lindarache.
SCENE II.
ALMANSOR alone.
ALMANSOR.
OH heard extremiti [...]s! oh cruel violence!
Alas! the friend that doth oblige me, is
The enemy that wrongs me; I owe then
My safety unto him that robs me of
My honour, ād the man that sav'd the brother
Hath ruined the Sister! in this case
What counsell should I take? shall I become
Ingratefull, or be infamous, shal I
Break the bond of a holy amity?
Shal I let forth the blood which preserv'd mine▪
[Page 85]That blood in which love will that I have Interest?
And to say all, the blood of my fair Mistresse?
She comes forth, and without doubt aymeth here
Honour will that I fly, but Love restrains me:
SCENE III.
ALMANSOR, ZAIDA, MEDINA.
ZAIDA.
HE dares not to advance, his crime intimidates him.
We will passe by the traitor, without speaking
A word.
ALMANSOR.
Deare object of all m [...] affections,
Charme of my Spirits!
ZAIDA.
Surely, you are mistaken.
You would speak to some other.
ALMANSOR.
Suffer me
T'expresse my passion unto your faire eyes▪
Love, —
ZAIDA.
You take me without doubt for Fatima.
ALMANSOR.
How for Fatima; this wo [...]d doth acquaint me
Confusedly with the unjust suspition▪
From whence this chang springs: possibly you have
Believed that I seck to please her, seeing
The league that it between me, and her Father;
But Heaven, and Love my conquerour, be witnes,
That your fair Image wholy doth possesse
My heart, that to remove you thence, Fatima ▪
[Page 86]Is altogether incapable, that I look on
Al that is lovely in her without love
And that as sensible only of the darts
Of your rare beauties, I confine my thoughts
And actions to civilities for her.
ZAIDA.
How do you look upon Fatima then
With an indifference?— Let me see how far
His impudence will go —
aside.
ALMANSOR.
Can you doubt of it? you that have tied all
My senses with such sweet and pressing bonds?
Can you suspect with any justice, Madam
My heart of treachery, my oaths of falshood,
And believe that my soul hath so much blacknes,
As to betray my Mistresse, my friend,
And my Deliverer? could you imagine,
Without being deceiv [...]d, that having once
Beheld you, one could love elsewhere? oh no:
For me to be inflam'd with a new fire
You are too charming, and I'm too much charm'd.
ZAIDA▪
Too much charm'd, monster of perfidiousnes?
Wilt thou abuse me then after thou hast
Betray'd me, and with an unworthy love
Carried away, wilt thou join impudence
To infidelity?
ALMANSOR▪
To in [...]idelity,
What say you, Zaida? this discourse confounds me.
ZAIDA.
I see it plainly, wretch; wer't thou lesse wicked.
[Page 87]Thou would'st be lesse confounded; an ingratefull
Still blusheth at reproaches.
ALMANSOR.
An ingratefull?
ZAIDA.
Doth that word trouble thee? and fearest thou
The name of an ingratefull person more
Then foul ingratitude it self?
ALMANSOR.
I know not
The cause of this your anger, should I never
So much examine me, I still should find
My conscience innocent.
ZAIDA.
In thy accompt then
Tis nothing to deceive a maid, to wrong
Thy friend, to fail thy faith, to love Fatima,
Lastly
ALMANSOR,
I, say you?
ZAIDA.
Yes, thee
ALMANSOR.
Oh [...] believe me,
I love her not.
ZAIDA.
Dar'st thou to say it yet?
Dost thou not love her when thou dost adore her?
Thy false equivocations cannot heer
Abuse me, I know that thou art to morrow
To marry her.
ALMANSOR.
To matry her! o Heaven, believe it not,
I swear.
ZAIDA,
[Page 88]No, no, forbeare, I believe not
The oaths of one that's perjur'd, every one,
Knows of this mariage▪
ALMANSOR.
Who told it you?
ZAIDA.
A certaine person.
ALMANSOR
Whosoe'r it be,
That certain person ly'd. Tell me his name,
And my just anger presently shall carry him
The reward of his false intelligence.
ZAIDA,
Goe punish then Fatima, it was she
Her self that told it me.
ALMANSOR
Oh give lesse credit,
Ador able Wonder, to such false discourses.
ZAIDA.
Good God! who ever saw such impudence?
ALMANSOR.
The mariage which she hath forged, is
A falsity; bear witnesse thou dread Master
Of Heaven that this I speak is truth; but if
I lie, let thy hand with a thunderbolt
Strike me unto the center of the earth:
Let my name be foreuer odious,
If the fire which I feel proceedeth not
wholy from your fair eyes, and if my heart
Ever conceived for Fatima any thing
Beyond a weak esteem.
ZAIDA.
I must sift yet:
This brazen face more throughly.
— aside.
How wilt thou prove
[Page 89]The truth of thy assertion?
ALMANSOR,
I can produce.
A hundred proofs to disabuse you presently.
ZAIDA.
I'l have but one, and that too very easie;
To put an end to the suspitions,
Which I've cōceiv'd of thee, give me forthwith
Both thy hand and thy faith.
ALMANSOR.
I give it you
With an excesse of yoy. — but what would I,
Give her a hand that must destroy her brother,
And plung it self in his most noble blood? —
aside
ZAIDA.
What dost thou answer me so ill for such
Rare bounties? dost thou murmur to thy selfe,
Grow pale and study, as if thou resent'st ill
What I propose.
ALMANSOR.
Madam, clean contrary
I was rap'd with th'unexpected honour,
And happines wherewith I saw me filled,
And th'excesse of my joy transported me:
I feare through my obedience to betray you,
To make detraction to speak against you,
And to treat Zegry too unciviliy
In giving without his consent my hand
And faith; but this weak fear yeilds to my flame
Duty prevails not now upon my soul,
And cannot take from me the glorious purpose
Of giving you my heart and hand together.
ZAIDA.
[Page 90]Thou thinkest on't too late, my mind is chang'd,
And n'er shall chāge again, know that I feign'd,
Only to try thee, that excesse of goodnes,
And thy fires for Fatima presently
Burst forth.
ALMANSOR.
Oh! I had never any for her!
ZAIDA.
Thy deceit's plain enough, I'm very well
Assured of this fatall mariage:
When I press'd thee to passe thy faith unto me,
I faw that thy remorses for Fatima
Accused thee, and thy confusion
Confirmed me in my belieft that she
Receiv'd the faith which I demanded of thee.
ALMANSOR.
I offer it unto you.
ZAIDA.
No thou caust not
Dispose of it. Thou hast already given it,
And wilt abuse me.
ALMANSOR.
You abuse your self
Wiih too much warines.
ZAIDA.
Hast thou the boldnes
To reply yet? Go, go to thy Fatima,
To morrow is your mariage day, I know it.
She hath affections for thee, fince thou hast
Refused me.
ALMANSOR.
Hear me, I do beseech you.
ZAIDA,
No, no? that were too great a weaknes in me:
[Page 91]Know that I leave thee, n'er too see thee more.
A secret poison's hid in the discourse
Of an Ingratefull person, and each word
A traitor speaks, destroys worse then the sword.
Exit Zaida.
SCENE IV.
ALMANSOR, alone.
ALMANSOR.
STrange successe, this! How is my soul possess'd
Still with new troubles? must I suffer then
The punishment of a fault which I have not
Committed? when revenge doth presse me to
Destro [...] a friend, must I at the same time
Destroy a Mistresse too? must I lose Zaida?
Yes my heart, I must loose her presently,
Since in depriving her of a dear brother,
My arm will draw her hate and anger on me:
I should hence forth no longer be so soft,
Tis time to think of Zegrys death, he must
Pay his blood to repair the honout which
He robs me of. This Enemy so dear
Must die, and I must sacrifice him to me;
He comes: at his approach some tēder motions
Oppose my just resentments, and indeed
Render them weak, my friendship combateth
The anger that possesseth me, my tendernes
Is lesse weak, and my fury is lesse strong.
He sav'd my life, he ravished my Sister;
Shall I go to embrace him, or to kill him?
SCENE V.
ZEGRY, ORMIN, ALMANSOR.
ZEGRY.
AT last I've met with him that wrōgeth me,
Ormin leave us alone.
ORMIN.
I will retire me.
Into this thicket secretly to see
What passeth, I doubt there will be a quarrel:
— aside.
ALMANSOR.
You appear troubled.
ZEGRY.
I've much cause to be so.
ALMANSOR.
What troubles you so much?
ZEGRY.
A wretch, a Traytor,
Whose crime gives me an infinite regret,
And doth deserve more then a single death
To punish it.
ALMANSOR.
May I serve you herem?
ZEGRY.
Yes, I can't finish my revenge without thee.
ALMANSOR.
Zegry, you can dispose of all my blood.
ZEGRY.
It is an offer which I can [...]t refuse.
ALMANSOR.
Who is th'affronter?
ZEGRY.
Thou art extream bold:
[Page 93]Knowst thou not, traitor, that it is thy self?
ALMANSOR.
I?
ZEGRY,
Thou; n'er seem to wonder at the thing.
Only defend thy self.
ALMANSOR embracing him.
ALMANSOR.
How much am I.
Indebted to thee for this sudden passion,
Tis now the chief point of thy amity:
Thy anger doth oblige me, though it wrōgs me.
I had already in my heart resolu [...]d
The design of thy death, and justly too:
My arm was ready for it, when inspight
Of all my fury, at thy first approach
My heart grew tender, and had been reduc'd
To balance the fierce darts which I had level'd
Against thee, if thy furious transport
Had not call'd home my choler unto me,
And banished my tendernes.
ZEGRY.
I'l hear
No more discourse, once again guard thy self
ALMANSOR.
So fierce a fight can [...]t but be sweet unto me
Honour solicits me more justly to it
Then thee, but let me know at least the cause
That doth provoke thee; I will make it plainly
appear that thou complainest wrongfully,
And justify my self in Killing thee.
ZEGRY.
[Page 94]How! feignst thou to be ignorant, and instead
Of making a confession, dost thou threaten me?
Thy base crime groweth greater by thy boldnes.
ALMANSOR.
Let me at Iast know what that base crime is.
ZEGRY.
Consult thy conscience, and thou shalt know it,
It will instruct thee that wi [...]h a false heart
In recompense of all my kindnes to thee
Thou rob'st me of my Mistresse, and that
Through treacheries which cannot be excus'd,
Thou art to marry her to morrow privately.
ALMANSOR.
If I am criminall, assure thy self,
It is not in this point: I never did
Look on Fatima with desires of love;
Only thou ma [...]st reproach my heart for having
Sight for thy Sister without thy consent.
ZEGRY.
How! dost thou love her?
ALMANSOR.
No, no, it would be
An extream errour, I say, I adore her,
I dare not say I love her. That which I
Resent now for her beauties doth surpasse
The thing that s called Love.
ZEGRY.
By this confession,
Dear friend, thou hast restored life unto me.
My griefs and troubles now are waited on
[Page 95]By an excesse of pleasure; Zaida is
Too happy, and her thoughts could never hope
A more illustrious husband: she is free.
The Lover unto whom I gave my word,
Hath seen his destiny determined
By death, and my repose shall fully be
Setled to meet a brother in the person
Of my most deare friend.
ALMANSOR.
What thou offerest me
Should be most dear unto me; but dost thou
Know him whom thou makst choice of for thy brother?
ZEGRY.
I think, I doe; thy country is Tremissa,
Thy name, Almansor, and thy family
Is noble and illustrious; and if I
May believe thee, thy greatest glory is
To be my friend.
ALMANSOR.
Thou knowst me but by half yet;
I was born heer, and born thy enemy,
More then one just and honest motive doth
Engage me to thy ruine; not to hold thee
Long in suspence, I am Abencerage.
ZEGRY.
Abencerage.
ORMIN.
O Heaven! —
aside.
ALMANSOR.
That wotd doth tell thee.
Our difference, and my duty.
ZEGRY.
I aswell
[Page 96]Know as thy self the mutuall hatred which
In our two houses seemes almost as twere
To be immortall; but thy blood which now
Thou owest to my succour, should for me
Stop the course of it in thy soul; and though
My friendship seems to stagger on this point,
I will content my self to hate thy name,
And love thy person. Yes, pursue thy love
Vnto my Sister; by a mariage
We may be tied with new knots, and by
That holy flame, the irreligious heat
Of that so old, and fatal enmity,
Will be extinct.
ALMANSOR.
This mariage would be sweet,
But I can't think of it till by thy death
I have reveng'd my selfe upon thee.
ZEGRY.
How!
ALMANLOR.
It is not that which thou believ'st provokes me,
Thy name I hate not, but I hate thy person,
And I cannot but in thy blood repair
The wrong which thou hast done me.
ZEGRY.
I?
ALMANSOR.
Yes, Thou.
How ill thou actest the astonished,
Thy base crime groweth greater by thy boldnes.
ZEGRY.
Let me at last know what that base crime is.
ALMANSOR.
Consult this letter, read, and thou shalt know it.
[Page 97]ZEGRY reads.
YOu, from whom I derive my birth,
Know that a sad fate worse then death
Is hapn [...]d to me; all our name
I [...] my losse bear an equall shame;
The false and cruel Zegry is
The Authour of my miseries,
For he it is that by his charms
Hath taken me out of your arms.
Zelinda.
ORMIN.
Without doubt they will both mistake themselves.
ZEGRY.
I cannot comprehend this dark Aenigma.
ALMANSOR.
It is too plain to me here that my sister
Zelinda giveth us to understand
That thou art her base ravisher.
ZEGRY.
Canst thou
Suspect me of so foule an action?
ALMANSOR.
Canst thou deny it, traitor? and can I
Believe it?
ZEGRY.
Hear me but a word or two.
ALMANSOR.
It would be to no purpose, guard thy self,
I'l hear no more.
ZEGRY.
How! dares the man that ow [...] me
His life, to assault mine?
ALMANSOR.
[Page 98]That obligation
Cannot divert me from my just reveng:
Thou wrought'st my safety, and my sisters rape,
And so much as life is lesse dear then honour,
So much an affront which reflects upon it,
Carries it in my soul upon a benefit,
And I am lesse afraid to be ingratefull,
Then to be infamous; but let us leave
Discourse, and come to action.
ZEGRY.
Stay, Ingratefull,
Stay yet a little.
ORMIN.
Help, oh help;
SCENE VI. And the last.
ADIBAR, ZAIDA, MEDINA, ALABEZ, LINDARACHE, GOMELLA, FATIMA, CHARIFA, ALMANSOR, ZEGRY, ORMIN, GASUL.
ZAIDA.
WHat noi [...]e
Is this I heare?
LINDARACHE.
What rumour is rais'd up?
ADIBER.
[Page 99]Hold, hold!
LINDARACHE.
No, no, go on,
My son, finish thy work.
GOMELLA.
Their quarrel, Adibar,
Cannot be taken up, therefore let's leave it
To be decided.
ADIBER.
No, such a third person
As I, shall never suffer them to fight,
And to look on.
GOMELLA.
Well then, defend your selfe.
We 't fight all four.
Ormin to Almansor.
ORMIN.
Oh! brother rather lift
Your arm up against me, I'in guilty only,
Zegry is innocent,
LINDARACHE.
Whom do I see?
ORMIN.
[...]ou see Zelinda your unfortunate Daughter,
Who left your family to follow Zegry;
And who in changing fate and habit only,
Could not enforce her soul to the least change:
My heart which was pleased in slavery
By him, forgat it self in following.
Somwhat too constantly this fleeting Lover;
But having known him to be taken with
Another Object▪ I feard in discovering
[Page 100]My self, to draw upon me his contempt,
And would still suffer the same violence,
If his own i [...]terest brake not my silence.
LINDERACHE.
Oh, Daughter!
ALMANSOR.
Oh! my Sister!
ZEGRY.
Fair Zelinda,
Revenge your self, I mourn you, I accuse
My self, and yeild my bosome to your stroak▪
ORMIN.
Zegry, You need not to fear any thing
From my resentments, if you pitty me,
I am not to be pittied.
ZEGRY.
I blush
That after so much goodnes as you have
Expressed to me, I have but one soul
Too give you; and if the consent of your
Parents and friends will be propitious to us,
There's nothing can impede our mariage.
LINDARACHE
This mariage is the chief of all my wishes.
ALMANSOR.
Friend, thou canst make me happy too, thy Sister
Dependeth on thee, thou know'st, I adore her.
ZEGRY.
I offered her unto thee, a while since,
And now I do again with height of joy.
ZAIDA.
All my suspitions are extinguished,
And you must know that following my duty,
I follow my desires; but Adibar
Will complain of it.
ADIBAR.
[Page 101]Madam, y'are deceiv'd,
When I lose all hope, I lose all my flame:
And to expresse unto you that I do not
Resent it, I will sacrifice my heart
In flames of loue to that fair Saint, for whom
I burned formerly; Gomella. may I
Hope your incomparable Daughter?
GOMELLA.
Adibar,
My family is honoured by your choice.
Fatima, take your husband from my hand.
FATIMA.
Such pleasing orders I shall willingly
Obey.
ZEGRY.
Come, let us go unto the Mosquè
Together, to give thanks unto the goodnes
Of Heaven that set an end to our misfortunes,
And made appear by this happy successe,
That one may be ingrate, yet generous.
FINIS.
EPILOGUE
THe Prologue promis'd something for the Play
Vnder a penalty, I come to pay
What he engag'd for, not to beg applause,
But, if we have transgress'd the Comick laws,
To suffer punishment; Beauties, to you
First I addresse me for the Poets due;
He s [...]eks but justice from your [...]vorie hands,
As you like or dislike ho falls or stands:
Smile on the peice, and no man dares to frown,
Your vote swayes both the Cavaleer and Clown:
Yours are the leading voices, in your looks
We read our fortune better then in books;
Y are pleas'd, for Heaven's displaid in smiles, so thē
I need say nothing to you,, Gentlemen.
ERRAA.
Page the 8. last Line, for comet, read comes. Page the 13. Line the 2. for follow, read fellow. Page the 21 Line the 7. for unworthly. read unworthyly. Page the 24. Line the 11th, for querched, read quenched. Page the 29. Line the 8. for trough read through. Page the 39. Line the 16. for wit read with. Page the 74 Line the 6. for she, read the.
THE ENCHANTED LOVERS: A Pastoral.
By Sir William Lower Knight.
Amico Rosa, Inimico Spina.
LONDON: Printed for Fr. Kirkman at the Iohn Fletchers Head over against the Angel-Inn on the backside of St. Clements without Temple-Bar, 1661.
THE ENCHANTED LOVERS: A PASTORAL By Sr. WILLIAM LOWER Knight.
Amico Rosa, Inimco Spina.
HAGE: Printed by ADRIAN VLACK. 1658.
ACTORS.
- Thersander.
- A Cavalier disguised in the habit of a Shepheard in love with Diana.
- Thimantes.
- Disguised also in the habit of a Shepheard in love with Ismenia.
- Clidamant.
- Disguised also in the habit of a Shepheard in love with Parthenia.
- Melnitus.
- A Shepheard of the Iland in love with Diana.
- Mercator.
- — A Merchant of Sevil.
- Diana.
- A young La [...] disguised in the habit of a Shepheard [...]sse.
- Parthenia.
- Neece to the Princess, in love with Clidamant.
- Ismenia.
- A young Lady disguised in the habit of a Shepheardess.
- Molissa.
- The Princess of the Island, and Inchantress, in love with Thersander.
- The Goddess Diana.
The Scene is in the Iland of Erithréa in Portugal.
THE ENCHANTED LOVERS. A PASTORAL.
ACTUS I.
SCENE I.
MERCATOR, MELINTUS.
MERCATOR.
IF you have any service to command me
At Sevil, honour me with your Commission,
To morrow I embarke, and leave the Ile,
Until you Mart returns, and games renue.
MELINTUS.
But first you'l kisse the fair hands of the Nimph,
And take her pasport with you?
MERCATOR.
That's a duty
I dar [...] not fail in, though my interest
Were not concern'd in't. I intend this day
[Page 6]To carry her my casket of my richest
And choicest merchandise; when she hath bought
What best pleaseth her fancy, I shall be
Dismist, having no more commodities
To sell unto the Shepheards of her Court.
MELINTUS.
Have you sold well?
MERCATOR.
To what end should I feign?
The trade goes well enough, I complain not:
Rich Rubies, Pearls of price, bright Diamonds,
Store of fair Coral, costly Amber-greece,
Portraits, and other such dainty devises,
Have passed through my fingers at good rates:
Diana's festival is still kept solemn;
And as the games which fail not every year
To be renu'd, invite unto those woods
The neighbouring Shepheards, to dispute the prizes
Proposed on those dayes, I saw among them
Some noble strangers clad in pastoral weeds
That for the honour of this Island chose it
Their sanctuary and repose.
MELINTUS.
You need not
Wonder at this, the place which they have chosen
Denotes their judgments; here ambition
Hath no imployment; if at any time
We sigh here, 'tis for love, no other passion
Is seen among us; though this Island be
A part of Portugal, we have our laws,
And Empire to our selves; she that rules here
Hath not the name of Queen, we subjects are
Our Soveraigns companions, and her vertue
Makes us to taste so much repose, that she
[Page 7]Hath put the Sheephook into the hands of
A hundred Hero's, who wearied with Lawrels,
And the noise of the war, are here retir'd
From the four corners of the World: she rules
So sweetly, that crime onely feels her anger.
And as she is descended from the blood
Of Zoroastres, she knows well the vertue▪
Of Herbs, and th' influence of every star;
She understands the secret misteries
Of Magick, and sometimes makes use of it
To serve her interests; there is no Prince
Nor Monarch that stands not in fear of her.
And suffereth her not to raign in peace
For his own safety.
MERCATOR.
I know this Asyle,
And charming residence looks not with envy
Upon the Court o' th' King of Portugal;
Besides I am not ignorant that the fair
Ismenia, drawn here, by the sweet report,
Of these inchanting pleasures, to enjoy them
In quiet, left the favour of her Queen;
And that this beauty by a sudden change,
Adds [...] lustre to this Paradise.
MELINTUS.
See where she comes, Diana too with her,
I must in private speak unto this fair one▪
An interest of love obligeth me
Continually to make her my devotions.
MERCATOR.
Go Sir, and prosper, may your Saint prove sweet
And gentle as those South-gales I expect
In my embarkment. —
Exit Mercator.
SCENA II.
DIANA, MELINTUS, ISMENIA
DIANA not seeing MELINTUS.
DIANA.
TRue, I hate that horrid noise;
Now my free thought releas'd from such a trouble,
Enjoyes it self.
MELINTUS
to DIANA.
So soon to quit the sports,
What was your fancy?
DIANA.
To avoid discourse
That troubled me, and here I meet with new.
MELINTUS.
Can such a subject as brings homage to you,
Produce th'effect you speak?
DIANA.
What doth not please me,
Both troubles and offends me.
MELINTUS.
You will one day
Quit those disdainful rigours?
DIANA
Yes, when you
Have neither hope, nor love.
MELINTUS.
D'ye entertain
Every one thus that loves you?
DIANA.
If he be such
As you, I use him just in the same manner.
MELINTUS.
Surely the Shepheard Clidamant speeds better.
DIANA.
[Page 9]'Tis then assuredly because he doth not
Resemble you.
MELINTUS.
He entertain'd discourse.
With you in gentle whispers at the Sports.
DIANA.
I do confess it,
We talk'd of you, and of your little skill.
MELINTUS.
Your subject was more serious, without doubt.
DIANA.
What e'r it was, yours, I am sure, offends me.
Remove this hated object from mine eyes;
Your presence will at last provoke my anger.
MELINTUS.
Can one displease you, speaking of your Loves?
Thou Husband'st for him that so sweet discourse.
ISMENIA.
Every one knows that who but speaks Melintus,
Speaks jealous.
MELINTUS.
It is no secret what men think of thee;
Every one knows, that who speaks but Ismenia,
Speaks cocket.
ISMENIA.
Really thou hast much reason
To be afflicted at that late discourse,
Clidamant merits much, and I'le oblige him.
DIANA.
Leave us.
MELINTUS.
He doth expect you, and I trouble you;
But wee'l find out a way to cross his fortune.
Exit Melintus.
DIANA
[Page 10]to ISMENIA
He thinks that Clidaemant enjoys my love.
ISMENIA.
Thou hast no reason, Shepheardess, to draw him
Out of his errour: in the mean time wilt thou
Not yield thee to the faithful services,
The prayers and tears of the devout Thersander?
Wilt thou not love him yet? he that encourag'd
By thy fair presence, only to please thee,
Hath gain'd so many prizes, who to give
Thy anger no pretence, though he loves much,
Can more be silent, since the ardent flame
Wherewith he burns for thee, is only known,
To me, unto Thimantes, and thy self.
DIANA.
Ne'r speak unto me of it.
ISMENIA.
What! still cruel?
But hearken, I will give thee an advise
Shall touch thee; whilst we may, we should lay hold of
The flying time; he only maketh beauties,
And he destroys them; in the lovely season
That thine lasts, use the gifts which nature gives thee;
Thou wilt one day lose this fair lustre which
So charmeth hearts, and be an object of
Contempt, as now thou art of adoration.
DIANA.
Rather that love, whose Orator thou art,
Yet know'st his use so little, doth times office;
'Tis he that withereth a face; the cares,
The troubles and the griefs, which by his means
Possess a heart, deface the lovely features,
And mow the flowers, he is like time the Tyrant
Of all things; he in a few dayes dryes up
Our Roses, and our Lillies.
ISMENIA.
[Page 11]Shepheardess,
Such fear hath smal foundation, quit this thought
For thy own interest; when love is once
Lodg'd in the heart, the ey hath then more light
The face receiveth thence its full perfection;
Then we esteem us, then we please our selves,
And know our utmost value, we correct
By art even to the least defect, we call
Our Glass to counsel in the ordering
Our gate, our carriage, and our countenance;
There our eye cheers with smiles, or kills with frowns,
Or faintly darts its glances, or with strength,
Either to wound neer hand, or further of;
Therefore once more for thy own interest,
I say unto thee, love, at least a little,
Thersander that adores thee.
DIANA.
Really,
Thou dost surprise me, to speak thus unto me,
Thou that hast never yet had love, nor thought
Tending to that sick passion, thou that mak'st
So many Lovers only for thy glory,
Without remembring one of them, thou that
Pleasest thy self by turns in their discourse,
Thou that wilt gain all, & conserve thee nothing.
Thou sufferest Thimantes to adore thee
To day; but tell me wilt thou entertain
His love to morrow?
ISMENIA.
I love, but I have alwayes had my method
In love, the Lover that is troublesome
Unto me, is my Lover for a day;
I burn not yet for love, nor do I sigh for't:
I make a sport on't still, but ne'r a torment;
In thrusting no one of, I'm every day
Attended by a multitude of servants
That present courtship to me, and all strive
[Page 12]Who shall be formost, on whom I command
And raign as Princess; they suppose they please me
In putting up my praises; when I go
Unto the Temple, they fail not to follow,
And carefully to tread in all my steps.
I am not pleas'd to see in such brave Shepheards
A troop of slaves attending on my train;
I please them all in flattering their desires:
I'm much delighted, when I make them jealous,
Provided that their jealousy extend not
So far as, to betake themselves to arms
For th' honour of my beauty [...]; this high point
Of evidences might, perhaps, enrage
Even all my other lovers.
DIANA.
Ha! how ill
Thou know'st love, and his maximes, I behold
Thy changes as so many crimes; for my part,
If my heart were ta'ne with an object once,
I could not pass from love unto contempt;
I should be fix'd unto my first Idea,
And that God wholly should possess my thoughts.
ISMENIA.
Well then, Diana, love, if thou think'st fit,
Beyond the grave, and make so fair a fire
Arise beneath thy ashes.
DIANA.
Oh, alas!
ISMENIA.
What signify those sighs?
DIANA.
They signify
The sorrow of the heart.
ISMENIA.
[Page 13]But whence proceeds
That sorrow? is it from thy brothers death,
Or from some lovers? come, deal plainly with me,
Dost thou not love Thersander yet at last?
DIANA.
No, I assure thee.
ISMENIA.
Speak, I'm very secret.
DIANA.
I'le tell thee then, in Sevil I receiv'd
Both life and love, Cleagenor, Ismenia,
Is the name of the Conquerour, whose image
Is graven in my heart.
ISMENIA.
O Gods! how this discourse
Hath consened my thought, I was about
To give instructions; — but pursue.
DIANA.
Our parents
Approv'd our love, and the day for our marriage
Already was appointed, when Nearehus,
Provoked by an infamous desire,
Came to solicit me unlawfully
In favour of his flame; this favourite
Unto the King after a passion painted,
And coloured with sighs, called his presents
To the assistance of his faith; but this
Proving effectless, he resolv'd my ruin;
He came with open force to satisfy
His beastly and unruly appetite;
And to that end would carry me away.
My Mother having notice at that instant
Of his design, made me to take a drink,
To frustrate it, and then, her subt'le policy
[Page 14]Spread through the Town the rumour of my death:
Indeed the vertue of this drink procur'd me
So long a sleep, that it appear'd to be
The sleep of death; Nearchus terrified
With this sad news, came to behold it painted
Upon my face; remorse of conscience
Within his heart then, quarrel'd with his love:
His sad despair arm'd him to kill himself:
But whilst his soul was troubled herewith,
I was conveyed secretly into
A Bark; scarce had I yet finish'd my sleep,
But at my first waking I saw my self
Upon the Sea. My Mother then related
The whole adventure to me, and the secret
Imposture of my feigned death, when suddenly
A storm brake the discourse, horrour and death
March'd on the floods: alas, what shall I say?
Our vessel being carried by the fury
O'th' winds and waves, was split upon a rock,
The several pieces floated on the waters;
I know not which o'th' Gods took care of me
In putting one under my trembling hand,
Which making me pass on those moving graves
Through the disturbed empire of the winds,
Carried me to the shore in all apparence
Devoid of life; here in this quiet Island
Of Erithrea where Melissa raigns
My body found a receptacle; she
Returning at that instant from the chase,
Perceiv'd it lying, which th'enraged Sea
Yet threatened on its banks, and that same God
Which would compleat his miracle, inclin'd
Her heart to pitty at this spectacle:
She caus [...]d me to be carried to her Court:
It is unto her succour that I owe
[Page 15]The remnant of my dayes: here I first chang'd
My name, the better to assure my flight,
And so to disappoint Nearchus pursuit.
ISMENIA.
How Shepheardess, is not thy Name Diana?
DIANA.
No, C [...]lia was my true and only name;
But for my safety I made to Melissa
A feign'd relation of the miseries
Of my sad life; since she receiv'd me
Into her palace, where I live with her,
And am now of her Court. Seven times the Sun
Hath finish'd his Carier, since I have seen,
Or heard news of my mother.
ISMENIA.
Was Cleagenor
Inform'd of all this?
DIANA.
Oh, alas! this is
One of the points that causeth my affliction:
Cleagenor surprised by the same
Imposture, came to see me in my bed,
As in my grave: I wonder that the noise
Of his redoubled cryes brake not my sleep:
The heat to revenge me dry'd all his tears:
He found his rival, and assaulted him;
They fought on equal terms; Nearchus fell
Under his arms for dead; Cleagenor
Was forc'd to fly t'avoid the fury of
Th'offended King: his sudden flight gave not
My Mother oportunity t'inform him
(As she intended) with the fiction
Of my pretended death: since his departure
'Tis now seven years compleat, in all which time
I've heard no news of him; so that I know not
Whether I mourn the living, or the dead;
[Page 16]In the mean time to weep my fate more freely,
And to conceal my miserable fortune,
I feign'd a Brothers death.
ISMENIA.
I'm sensible
Of thy misfortune, and will bear a part
In thy sad grief, if that will make it lesse;
I no more now condemne thy sighs, nor tears;
But yet at last preserve thy beauty from
Those murthering sorrows; in this doubtfull case
Fix thy fair thoughts upon some other object;
If death hath seiz'd thy Servant, sure thou losest
Too many tears and sighs; or grant he live,
Ist probable that he will keep his constancy
For thee whom he thinks dead? but here's my Lover.
SCENA III.
THIMANTES, DIANA, ISMENIA.
ISMENIA
to THIMANTES.
WHat busines brings thee hither?
THIMANTES.
Here I come
A little to divert my thought.
DIANA.
What thought?
THIMANTES.
'Tis a disease which doth assault my sense.
ISMENIA.
What ist, without more circumstance?
THIMANTES.
My plaint
Without words would express it; at the sports
Too many Shepheards had unto my grief
[Page 17]Too long thy free ear, and perhaps, thy heart;
A World of people pressed round about thee:
The Shepheard Dorilas, me thought, discours'd
Too long with thee, I saw so many others
Prostrated at thy foot —
ISMENIA.
Without more words
Thimantes is become a jealous fool.
Since thou wilt love me, learn to know me well:
Thimantes I am free, and will no Master;
I'le ne'r depend on any but my self.
Tell me, I pray thee, did I ever promise
To speak to none but thee? dost thou imagine
So vainly, that thou art the only Lover
That serves me? have not I yet some which ought
To be conserv'd? and amongst all the Shepheards,
Whose faith I have receiv'd, if I should open
My mouth and eyes on none of them but thee,
And that one of those dayes thy mind should change;
And mine change too, (as all this well may happen)
Would all the others, jealous of this kindness
Express'd to thee thus in particular,
Be still my Lovers, though I had lost thee?
And if my liberty were not expos'd
For all, which of them would commiserate
My fortune in thy losse; I think upon
Th'event of things, which thou canst not assure:
At least if one quits me, another takes me:
Consider if this humour pleaseth thee,
If thou canst serve me all thy life time thus,
And not be jealous; if thou canst, hope one day
Both mouth and hand, and happily the heart
May flatter thy affection.
THIMANTES.
[Page 18]This way
Seems very strange unto me, but almost
Every fair evening some appointed place
Of meeting seems t'assure me of thy love
Sufficiently, and not to flatter me
With frivolous hope.
ISMENIA.
Yet hitherto it is
But airy words.
THIMANTES,
I hope all things from time
In waiting for that day, our names engraven
In every place, will speak my love, Ismenia,
I promise —
ISMENIA.
But no more, here comes Thersander;
That Shepheard, whose enflamed heart thine eyes
Hath rendered ashes —
DIANA.
Well Ismenia,
I leave you.
ISMENIA.
This is too much [...]igour, trust me,
At least afford the face, if thou deny'st
The heart.
SCENA IV.
THERSANDER, DIANA, THIMANTES, ISMENIA.
THERSANDER
to DIANA.
OH stay, dear object stay, thou that art cause
Of all my torments, I have but one word
To say before I dye, the Nimph hath crown'd
My valour with these prizes, here I come
[Page 19]To lay them at thy feet, with them my heart:
If thou wilt triumph on this festival day,
Suffer at least thy conquest in thy sight,
That's all th' ambition of this captive heart.
DIANA.
Captive to me? if so, make it change Master,
I freely do release it; break its chain
Thy self, if thy design be not to have me
Free it with my own hand.
THERSANDER.
Alas! it is not
Its liberty that I desire.
DIANA▪
Then let it
Live still a slave, and sigh.
THERSANDER.
How, Shepheardess!
Refuse a heart, this precious present which
Is alwayes worth a Temple, and the Gods!
Think well upon it, it becomes thy justice
Not to despise this noble sacrifice,
Since I give but the same victime and incense
Unto the powers above; in my opinion
Our Goddess in the Temple is less fair,
And thou dost bear the bright name of Diana,
As well as she.
DIANA.
Since this rich present is
Of such high value, as 'tis worthy of
A Temple and the Gods, I believe, Shepheard,
That it becomes my justice not t'accept
This noble sacrifice, and I should wrong
Our puissant Gods in daring to partake
Their glory, and to share their incense with them,
My name's Diana, to thy eyes I'm fair;
But I am not a Goddess like to her.
THERSANDER.
[Page 20]Although thou hast no Temple, nor no Altars,
Thou mak'st thy self adored; 'tis to day
Thy festival which I have celebrated:
I have no other worship, nor no other
Diana, the fire of my love is not
A profane fire, and if some spark thereof
Warm not thy breast a little, I must suffer
The violent heat on't.
DIANA.
Rather I advise thee,
Quench it with my contempts, this remedy
Will cure thee, that thou shalt complain no more.
THERSANDER.
Good Gods! what remedy is this which thou
Offerest me here? I must dye, Shepheardess,
If thou cur'st so; flatter at least, I pray thee,
With one sole word the love which thou hast rais'd;
If I'm, not happy, make me think I am so.
Alas! I cannot hear a single syllable
To succour me; if thus thou curest, Shepheardess,
I must dye, there is no prevention for't.
ISMENIA.
Why carriest thou a heart still so rebellious
To love?
THIMANTES,
Why dost thou persecute with scorn
This faithful Shepheard?
DIANA.
It is best be gone.
THERSANDER.
Yet thrust of thy disdain, if thou wilt spare
My hand, my death, finish the forming of
[Page 21]The sword that kils me, one word more of hate,
And I die presently before thine eys;
Speak, answer me.
ISMENIA.
No more, here comes the Nymph.
DIANA.
Happy arrival, which hath freed me from
So great a t [...]ouble!
THERSANDER.
Well for my part then,
I'le try the temper of the marble rocks;
My plaints may pierce them, though they could not move
A Virgins heart to pitty, much lesse love.
SCENA V.
MELISSA, PARTHENIA, DIANA, ISMENIA, THIMANTES, CLIDAMANT, MELINTUS.
MELISSA.
SInce a full year and more that I have govern'd
This happy Island in the right and lawful
Line and succession of my Ancestours
By the death of my Sister, and since first
Diana's feasts were celebrated here,
Never so many Laurels crown'd your heads,
Nor ever any day ordain'd for pastime
Hath entertain'd mine eyes with such delight.
Every one striving to bear hence the prize
Propos'd to his contention, shew'd his skill,
Both at the Course and Lute; how handsomly
Thersander did behave him at these exercises!
With what a grace he acted every thing!
How charming was his port! and if I may
[Page 22]Say what I think of him, he must be sprung
Either from Kings or Gods: how happy is
Thimantes in his friendship!
THIMANTES.
This happiness which I enjoy's not new,
It hath a longer date then from to day:
His name is precious to me; 't was my fortune
To have the benefit of his acquaintance
At my last voyage, I saw his arrival
From his own native country at the Court
O' th King of Portugal; the sympathy
Of humors which one man hath with another
Tied us together in so firm a friendship
That having met him sad and full of thought,
I prevail'd with him as to bring him here,
In hope that in this quiet region where
Melissa reigns, he should lose all his grief.
MELISSA.
Indeed although that prosperous Shepheard hath
Received all the prizes from my hand
Wherewith he's crown'd, I find him notwithstanding
Stil melancholy may not this be in him
Some sad effect of love, blest Shepheardess,
Who e'r thou art! thrice happy is thy fortune,
In which this noble stranger bound his choice!
He is so far above the common merit,
That a Nymph should not much abase her self
In loving him.
CLIDAMANT.
Indeed he merits much,
And we esteem him all, we love his vertues,
Without being jealous of them.
PARTHENIA.
Clidamant
Comes nothing short of him in my opinion.
ISMENIA.
[Page 23]Thimantes too will go as far as he.
DIANA.
Another time, Melintus without doubt
Will perform better.
MELINTVS.
Yes, when you shal turn
Your eys on that side.
MELISSA.
Shepheards, once again
Prepare, I pray you, for the Nuptials
Of Thirsis with Parthenia; Neece, that Shepheard
Is worthy of you, and you are not ignorant
That I intend, as soon as he returns,
To make him (as I hope) your happy husband.
PARTHENIA.
aside
Yes, if my heart can suffer violence.
MELISSA.
In the mean time, let's go unto the Temple,
Our thanks and our devotions to pay
Vnto the Gods on this so glorious day.
The end of the first Act.
ACTUS II.
SCENA I.
ISMENIA, THERSANDER, THIMANTES.
ISMENIA.
'TIs true, Thersander, I have done for thee
Asmuch as possibly I could, I made
Thy sighs, thy constancy, thy faith appear
For to perswade her, but I lost my labour,
Diana is insensible, her heart,
Which loves sweet applications cannot touch,
Among so many rocks, is become rock.
THERSANDER.
What shall I doe, Thimantes? what a rude
And rigorous fortune steers my destiny?
THIMANTES.
Quit that ingrateful, and come forth of slavery.
THERSANDER.
How shall I come forth? I'm born miserable
Under the frowning, and the fatal aspect
Of an ungentle Star, which in despight
Of all my studies to defend me from it;
Pursues Cleagenor under the name
Of poor Thersander.
ISMENIA.
Softly.
What is that I hear!
Good Gods!
THIMANTES.
Thersander, what hast thou discover'd?
Hath thy own mouth betrayed thus thy secret?
See into what great danger thy imprudence
Puts thee at present; fearest thou no more,
Nearchus, and his power?
THERSANDER.
[Page 25]No, I fear nothing
After this sentence, but seek death, for since
It is resolv'd by fate that I must die,
What matter is it, by what arm it be,
Whether Nearchus, or Diana kill me.
ISMENIA.
Oh Gods! how happy is he? —
softly.
Hath not she
For whom thou diest had some intelligence
That thy heart loves elsewhere? if it be so,
And that thy inconstancy procures thy torment,
Thou wrongfully accusest her of cruelty.
THERSANDER.
Quite contrary, this love wherewith thou seest
My heart disturb'd, is a sure testimony
Of my fidelity: 'tis true, alas!
I sometime lov'd an object of such beauty,
That the Gods never fram'd so fair a peece:
The Roses and the Lillies form'd the colour
Which dy'd her cheeks, and in her sparkling eys
The Sun was painted; to express unto thee
Yet better her divine perfections,
Diana is her Portrait to the life
Celia is seen in her; she like Diana
Had a Magestick carriage, she had
A mouth, and eys like her, she had an air,
Fierce too like hers, but amiable; lastly
In every thing she seem'd Diana's self:
My heart is constant therefore as before,
Since still I love her in her living Portrait.
I thought at first then, that her death was false,
And that Diana was that lovely object;
But when I saw Diana entertain
With such contempt the fervent love wherewith
[Page 26]My heart was taken, when I saw her rigours,
And infinite hatred, I perceiv'd my errour,
And said this is not Celia; so that
I saw well by her cruelties indeed
That I pursu'd her picture, and had passion
But for a Portrait.
ISMENIA.
What! is Celia dead then?
THERSANDER.
Alas! that's my affliction, I saw her
Stretch'd out upon her death-bed dead, Ismenia;
And more dead yet then she, I saw those places
Shine with a certain rest of brightness which
Her eyes had darted: presently on this
I had a Combat with Nearchus for
This charming Beauty; that proud favourite
Unto the King by infamous desires,
Form'd him an object to his filthy pleasures,
This outrage was intended to her sweetness:
We fought on this occasion, it was
My fortune to disarm him; but the death
Of Celia, and the anger of the King,
(To save me from the rigor of the Law)
Enforc'd me to a flight, and made me wander
Seven year from Province unto Province: lastly
Wearied to see the Court of every Prince,
I thought to free me of all dangers here
Under the feign'd name of Thersander, and
The habit of a Shepheard: to disguise me
Yet better, the afflictions of my heart
Have chang'd my Visage.
ISMENIA.
Hast thou nothing with thee
That formerly was Celia's?
THERSANDER.
[Page 27]Yes, one day
I receiv'd from her hand this pretious pledge
Of her unfeigned love, behold this Portrait,
And judge, I pray thee, if I love Diana,
Or Celia.
ISMENIA.
Let me have this Portrait; with it
I'l cure thy evil, Diana seeing it
Will become gentle, I'l go shew it her.
THERSANDER.
What wilt thou do, Ismenia? but I see
Diana: O Gods! end my misery.
SCENA II.
DIANA, THERSANDER, ISMENIA, THIMANTES.
DIANA.
I Sought thee every where.—
to Ismenia.
THERSANDER.
You will oblige me,—
to Ismenia.
Ismenia, to restore my Portrait to me.
ISMENIA
Troublesome Shepheard!
I have much to say—
to Diana
To thee in private, therefore let us enter▪
Into this Wood.—
Exit Ismenia and Diana.
THERSANDER.
Shew her that Portrait! oh my martyrdom!
Traitrous Ismenia, is this that faith
For which Thimantes alwaies answered
To me for thee? yes it is by thy counsels,
Thimantes, only that my seduc'd soul
[Page 28]Left her the conduct of my faithfull love:
Nothing from thee or me can work upon her,
She jeers at all; but let us find her out.
Exit Thersander and Thimantes.
Ismenia returns with Diana.
ISMENIA.
I see w' are private here, we may speak freely.
A Mistress yet at last sighs for Thersander,
And one too in this Island far lesse cruel
Then thee; accept his service, and embrace
His faith: this portrait which thou seest here,
He receiv'd from her as a faithfull witness
Of their reciprocal and mutual fires.
DIANA.
What do I see?
ISMENIA.
That portrait (as I take it)
Whereof Thersander is so proud.
DIANA.
I gave
Such a one to Cleagenor; Ismenia,
Who gave it thee?
ISMENIA.
Cleagenor himself.
DIANA.
O Gods! what saiest thou to me? thou art in
An extream errour.
ISMENIA.
I tell thee again▪
Cleagenor himself gave it to me.
DIANA.
This discourse holds no credit.
ISMENIA.
Every day
Almost I see him, and thou seest him also
[Page 29]As well as I.
DIANA.
I comprehend not these obscurities.
ISMENIA.
He loves thee, and thou fliest him.
DIANA.
I fly
None but Thersander.
ISMENIA.
Well, henceforth accuse
None but thy self of these disasters, 'tis
The same Cleagenor that loveth thee,
And whom thou fli'st.
DIANA.
Cleagenor! Ismenia;
That cannot be, is 't possible that I
Should have been two moneths without knowing him,
For so long 'tis since he arriv'd among us.
ISMENIA.
Thy grief hood-winck'd thine eys, thou couldst not see him.
Think'st thou that since those seven years thou hast liv'd
Upon those fair banks; time that changeth all things,
Hath not yet chang'd a face? there comes Thersander;
Take a full survey of him, whilst I hold him
In some discourse; make shew as if thou'dst enter
Into that Wood, and have a care thou do not
Discover thee till I have ordered
Thy meeting with him.
DIANA.
[Page 30]Happy pledge of love!
Entring into the Wood.
SCENA III.
THERSANDER, THIMANTES, ISMENIA, DIANA.
THERSANDER
to THIMANTES.
THou seest what she hath done; unto Diana
Sh' 'as given the Portrait.
THIMANTES.
See she enters there
Into that Wood.
ISMENIA.
A word with thee Thersander,
THERSANDER.
Perfidious, finish here thy crime, and be
My murtherer; strike, strike this heart, I pray thee,
That hopes no more; but by what interest
Hast thou betrai'd me?
ISMENIA.
Why complainest thou?
THERSANDER.
O gross dissimulation! dar'st thou yet
To ask what is my plaint?
DIANA.
He hath his gate.
Softly, looking on him, where she was hidden.
ISMENIA.
Thy heat hears nothing, give me leave to speak.
THERSANDER.
Yes, to feign more, and to lie at thy pleasure,
Am I oblig'd stil to thee for my life?
ISMENIA.
[Page 31]How soon love doth degenerate into folly?
THIMANTES.
Thersander, hear her.
THERSANDER.
What is 't she can say?
ISMENIA.
Since th'art so obstinate, let thy love go
Which way it will, I'l have no more to do in't.
THERSANDER.
Speak then, what wilt thou?
ISMENIA.
I have nought to say now.
THIMANTES.
Thou would'st speak to him.
ISMENIA.
'Twas to laugh a little.
THIMANTES.
I pray thee, speak unto him.
THERSANDER.
I conjure thee,
Ismenia, in the name of all the Gods,
Jeer not my Passion.
ISMENIA.
It is now my turn
To be perverse.
THERSANDER.
I hear thee, speak, what sai'st thou?
ISMENIA.
Since thou wilt have it, know then that a Rival
Hath caus'd thy grief and torments.
THERSANDER.
How, a Rival!
At that Word I'm all fire, a Rival!
ISMENIA
[Page 32]Yes,
A Rival, good Thersander, but a lov'd one.
THERSANDER.
What! loved of Diana?
ISMENIA.
Yes of her,
And more too, of thy self.
THERSANDER.
That's very strange;
How should I chuse but bear a mortal hatred
To him my Mistress loves; who e'r he be,
I must revenged die.
DIANA
Softly.
If this should be
Cleagenor, O Gods! how is he chang'd?
THERSANDER.
Where is that Rival?
ISMENIA.
With thee, Thersander;
Thou would'st defend him, if occasion were,
At the expence of all thy blood; believe me,
Thou never leavest him.
THERSANDER.
Without dissembling, —
to Thimantes
Tell me Thimantes, art not thou that Rival,
She means? I think thou art my friend, deal plainly
And freely with me, art not thou that cruel,
That false and traiterous Rival?
THIMANTES.
Answer him,
Ismenia.
THERSANDER.
Well, what wilt thou say at last?
ISMENIA.
[Page 33]Thersander hath for Rival in his love.—
THERSANDER.
Speak, whom?
ISMENIA.
Cleagenor,
THERSANDER.
Cleagenor!
Ismenia, ha! my joy, sure, is extream;
True, I confess, I love this Rival equal
Unto my self, and if he may be loved
Of th' object whom I serve, I will adore
My chains without condemning her of rigour.
ISMENIA.
Thou hast lost nothing by this bout, thy fortune
May create envy, fair Diana hath
Yielded to Celia's portrait.
DIANA.
Softly,
Who, to see
Those decay'd features, could have known that face?
But my love hath at last drawn them afresh
Within my memory; I must draw neer him,
And yield to my impatience.
THERSANDER,
to ISMENIA.
Pardon me,
I can't believe thee; but here comes Diana;
See if her eys ha' n't the same cruelty,
Alwaies the same pride, and the same disdain.
DIANA.
Ismenia, I am come to tell thee something,
ISMENIA.
Me Celia?
THERSANDER.
[Page 34]How, Celia?
ISMENIA.
Yes, Celia.
THERSANDER.
Alas! I'm in an error; 'tis her eyes▪
Her gate, her countenance, but not her heart.
ISMENIA.
'Tis she, Thersander, whom thou do'st behold,
It is her very self.
THERSANDER.
How! is't a custome
To call forth from the bosom of the Grave
Departed souls? and by what priviledge
Hath that God, who at the eternal sleep
Presides, ordain'd her waking?
DIANA,
to THERSANDER.
Though thy faith
Finds this point strange, is not love strong enough
To make thee to believe a Miracle?
Cleagenor sees me, and knows me not:
How comes it, is my Portrait false? have J
No more attractions? see if't be thy Celia,
At least if't be not she; it is no more
That beauty which was late so cruel to thee;
Cleagenor!
THERSANDER.
My Celia ▪
DIANA.
Is it possible,
O Gods! that J should see again what J
Best love i'th' World?
THERSANDER.
Is it you that J see?
ISMENIA.
[Page 34]Take heed, be moderate, one may die with joy.
THIMANTES.
Ismenia, follow this example here;
Grant only at this instant but a kisse
To my impatience, see at last Diana
Ceaseth to be unkind.
ISMENIA.
What! doth the object rouse thee, and th' example
Provoke thy spirits? thou wilt have but one kiss?
THIMANTES.
I will be satisfied.
ISMENIA.
Give me then
Some verses, or at least a nose-gay of
The choicest flowers.
THIMANTES.
Ismenia, I'l not fail
To bring them thee.
ISMENIA.
Then trouble not thy self,
The kisse is thine.
THIMANTES.
Wilt thou withhold from me
So long what is my due?
ISMENIA,
It will be better
When it is much expected, and long'd for.
THERSANDER.
Behold my whole adventure in few words.
DIANA.
I've made thee too a full description
Of my misfortunes; thou seest how I feign'd
(To give my grief full vent) a Brothers death
[Page 36]In weeping of my lovers.
THERSANDER.
What felicity
Do I injoy now?
THIMANTES.
Use your utmost skil
To make it lasting to you, and beware of
The fickleness of fortune, and her wrongs.
THERSANDER.
What! have we yet any thing more to fear?
Is not that blind inconstant Goddess weary
Of persecuting us?
THIMANTES.
Love is a child,
He must be govern'd well, Diana's beauty
Hath gain'd her lovers, they may hurt, Thersander;
Melintus hath a subtle wit, and we
Both know he loves Diana, and besides
Is jealous of her; fear some foul play from him,
If thou appear his Rival; he disposeth
The spirit of Melissa at his pleasure;
When he shall see you serve as obstacle
Unto his love, he will take speedy order
For your removal.
THERSANDER.
But to hinder him
To hurt me, I conceive Diana hath
No lesse power on the spirit of the Nymph.
THIMANTES,
But if the Nymph loves thee, as I observ'd
Her heart expressed some such matter lately,
When at her last return home from the Games,
Her free confession to us all, declar'd
How much she did esteem thee, but at last
[Page 37]With such an esteem that love followed
Close at the heels in plain terms, and indeed
Spoken by her of purpose, if she loves thee,
I say (as I'm confirmed in that thought)
How wilt thou steer thy course?
ISMENIA.
'Tis very true,
Her discourse comes into my memory.
THERSANDER.
O Gods! what's this you utter?
DIANA.
For my part
I begin to believe it, and remember
The passage too, I fear all things from thence:
This is the only mischief we should shun.
ISMENIA.
What can she not do 'gainst your interests,
When your refuse shall come to arm her anger
Against you? Know that with a single word,
I'th twinckling of an eye too, she can calm
The floods and make a mutiny amongst them,
Call forth corrupted bodies from their graves,
Make their cold ashes speak, and their pale ghosts
To walk; these were the secrets, Zoroastres
Taught, whil'st he raign'd, to his posterity;
She is descended from him; and to give
Her self content, will make use of her art
To serve her passion.
THERSANDER.
I know that her skill
Extends to Magick. Yes I fear her love
With so much power, and yield unto thy counsel
Advise us what to do.
THIMANTES.
Disguise your selves
[Page 39]Under the names of Brother, and of Sister,
In the mean time we'l spread abroad the rumor
Of this event that every one shall hear it
Within the Island.
THEERSANDER.
J approve this project.
DIANA.
My life lies on it.
ISMENIA.
I go to begin
To lie unto Parthenia.
SCENA IV.
PARTHENIA, ISMENIA, DIANA, THERSANDER, THIMANTES.
PARTHENIA.
ISmenia,
I would speak one word with thee but a moment.
ISMENIA.
Immediately when you have born a part
In the contentment of this pair; Diana
Hath for the future no more cause to weep
Heaven hath been pleas [...]d that she hath found her brother,
It is this happy Shepheard, they acknowledge
Each other.
PARTHENIA.
This event, J must confess
Confounds my spirit; Thersander found her brother?
DIANA.
Yes Nymph, it is the same,
For whom my grief was hitherto extream.
[Page 38]The Gods at length have heard my prayers and sighs.
THERSANDER.
Yes, Madam they have granted our desires.
PARTHENIA.
J'm very glad on't, and my soul is ravish'd
With this good fortune of our friends, which makes
Our lives content, Diana will oblige me
If she please at her leisure to inform me
with the discovery; but acquaint the Nymph
Therewith, and to that purpose go to see her.
THERSANDER.
We ow that duty to our Soveraign.
Exeunt Thers and Diana.
PARTHENIA.
In the mean time Ismenia and my self
May entertain each other in discourse,
Thimantes, J believe, will not be jealous.
THIMANTES.
Let not a third come, Madam, and J fear
Nothing from you.—
Exit Thimantes.
PARTHENIA.
Ismenia, J know not,
If J may safely tell a secret to thee,
Alas!
ISMENIA.
J know it well, since the heart sighs;
When one would say J love, and dares not speak it▪
The heart at the nam'd point gives an Alas.
Have not J [...]ell divin'd?
PARTHENIA.
Ismenia,
I do confess it, see too, if thou canst
Divine the object that procures my grief
Let me not speak him, spare my cheeks those blushes.
ISMENIA.
[Page 40]I cannot, a sigh carries not so far;
You love; but what more, is beyond my skil
To understand, unless your self unfold
That sigh unto me by its cause.
PARTHENIA.
'Tis true
I love.
ISMENIA.
But whom?
PARTHENIA.
'Tis—
ISMENIA.
Outwith't.
PARTHENIA.
Clidamant.
ISMENIA,
Behold a handsom way to name a Lover;
Ha! how you fear your lips should touch upon it!
One must draw 't word by word out of your mouth;
You have then but one lover; really
'Tis well as't happens; had you lists of them
As I have, which I name, and reckon over
Every hour of the day, your bashfullness
Would well become you; love is a fair fruit,
But then it must be gathered, modesty
Leaves it to fall and wither, but I pray you
What will Melissa say to't, who intends
To match her Neece to Thirsis?
PARTHENIA.
Oh! I hate
That Th [...]rsis, and shall be even in despair,
If the Nymph force me to observe my duty
In that par [...]icular; yet I would keep it
[Page 41]Without disturbance, if the love I bear
To Clidamant should not return me his;
For to speak truly I am violent
Where honour doth ingage me, therefore would I
Have his heart to be sounded, and as I
Find it dispos'd, I should pursue my love,
Or quench my flame.
ISMENIA.
Speak unto him your self,
Nothing's more easie.
PARTHENIA.
But, Ismenia,
Thou hast a wit would help me; if I should
Speak to him, he hath little understanding
If he should not know that I first was taken▪
And I should sin against the rule of maids
To make such a confession.
ISMENIA.
You may write then,
PARTHENIA.
That is all one, still the same point of honour
Forbids it me; my Letter would discover
My love, and make him boast thereof, perhaps,
To my dishonour, if he might have once
That mark on't in his hand.
ISMENIA.
Let him then
Divine it, if he be Astrologer.
PARTHENIA.
Treat not my passion thus with railery.
ISMENIA.
I must then serve you in it, I perceive;
Well I'l about it with my best invention;
I'l write a Letter to him, and invite him
By a feign'd love, as soon as it is night,
[Page 42]To meet me at the Eccho of the Garden,
To entertain us there.
PARTHENIA.
So in my absence
Thou shalt discern his thought.
ISMENIA.
This business
Concerns you, Madam, and requires your presence.
You shall speak softly to him, and in those
Sweet moments, you shall understand much better
What his thoughts are, and thus you may your self,
To find out if he loves, speak of your self.
PARTHENIA.
Thou wilt be present too?
ISMENIA.
Yes, J 'l so well
Contrive it, that he shal believe undoubtedly
That it is I that speak.
PARTHENIA.
But how can we
Speak to the Eccho, for thou know'st the Nymph,
As soon as it is night, retires her self,
And then we cannot come there, what devise now
Hast thou that we may speak to him?
ISMENIA.
Cannot we
Speak to him from the terrass which joins close
Unto the Garden; you know that you can
Conveniently come there at any hour
From your apartment; 'tis upon this ground,
And these conjunctures, that I've ta'n the plot
For my invention.
PARTHENIA.
J admire thy wit,
[Page 43]Tis wonderfull industrious and ready.
ISMENIA.
I'l write the Letter here before your eyes,
Behold the paper for it.
PARTHENIA.
How, these are
Thy writing Tables!
ISMENIA.
They can speak of Passions
Discreet and secret; J 'l about my business,
And use my smoothest stile▪
PARTHENIA,
Especially
Appoint him wel the hour and place of meeting:
How redevable am J to thy wit
For this great favour? what do J not ow thee
For this good office, thou giv'st me again.
Life, and repose.
ISMENIA.
See what J write unto him
In two words for you, they are very pressing,
And will ingage him to be take himself
Unto the place appointed to know more.
PARTHENIA.
'Tis very well; it rests now how to giv' 't him.
ISMENIA.
Leave me the care of that; but here he comes.
SCENA V.
MELINTUS, CLIDAMANT, PARTHENIA, ISMENIA.
MELINTUS,
to CLIDAMANT.
YEs, J have heard Diana is his sister.
CLIDAMANT,
to PARTHENIA.
Madam, Melintus and my self are going
To seek Thersander, to congratulare
With him his happy meeting with his sister.
ISMENIA,
to CLIDAMANT.
seftly
Thersander's happy, and thou art no lesse,
Since thy good fortune offereth it self
Unto thy hand, from whence thou mai'st expect
All that thou canst desire without that jealous.
PARTHENIA,
to ISMENIA.
Come, let us go, the Nymph expecteth us.
ISMENIA,
softly to CLIDAMANT.
Having no opportunity at present
To speak unto thee, read, J think 't will please thee.
CLIDAMANT.
Read it, J think 't will please thee, what i'th name
Of wonder doth she mean?
MELINTUS.
Take but the pain
To open, and to read it thou shalt find.
CLIDAMANT.
J think, J may make thine eys witnesses
Of what it doth contain, there's nothing in it
Secret or serious, Ismenia loves
To jest, and to be talk'd of; and this is
[Page 45]Some new piece of her wonted merry wit.
MELINTUS.
J am impatient, prethee open it.
CLIDAMANT.
Let me see what divertisement is here,
Which she expounds good fortune, what is this!
He reads.
List of my Lovers by an exact order
Of Alphabet.
'Tis very well put of;
But so far forth as J can see yet, neither
Obse [...]ve J here Melintus or my self.
MELINTUS.
For my part, J renounce there; turn the leaf,
Go on.
CLIDAMANT, reads.
Stanza's of Dorilas upon inconstancy.
'Tis true, Ismenia thou art fair,
But more inconstant then the air;
And every Lover is a Mark
Exposed to thy humourous dart;
As soon as he meets thy disdain,
He flies to death to cure his pain,
And makes but one large step in all
From his bright glory to his fall.
With these defects yet thou canst charm;
But I'l not love, for fear of harm;
Yet J approve all things in thee,
Yea even to thy inconstancy;
[Page 46]And will not, to incur thy hate,
Jealous Melintus imitate,
Whose humour every thing offends,
And nothing pleaseth but its ends.
CLIDAMANT.
Melintus, what sai'st thou unto them?
MELINTUS.
J see for what design she put those Tables
Into thy hand, J call'd her cocket lately,
And that, it seems, provok'd her to rerurn me
The injury with one of the same nature.
CLIDAMANT,
continues to read.
Sonnet of Silvio, my most faithfull Lover.
A Madrigal of Thirsis,—what's this follows,
Unto the Shepheard Clidamant.
CLIDAMANT.
Melintus,
Am J not purblinde, see if this name doth
Strike thine eyes thus like mine!
Melintus looking into the writing Tables.
MELINTUS.
Nothing's more certain,
It is address'd to thee; thou art more happy
Then thou imagin'st.
CLIDAMANT,
reads.
As soon as the dark shadows of the night
Hang o'r the light,
At th' Eccho of the Garden let us meet;
But be discreet;
'Tis love invites thee; more anon,
When w' 're alone.
Ismenia.
Melintus would take the writing Tables.
MELINTUS.
Prethee let me see them,
[Page 47]Grant me this favour—not, then J, believe
Thou do'st disguise the truth, and read'st Ismenia,
When 'tis subscrib'd Diana.
CLIDAMANT.
Oh fond jealous!
How long wilt thou thus be thy own tormenter?
MELINTUS.
Yet shew them me.
CLIDAMANT.
To cure thy troubled spirit,
J'l first o'rcome thy curiosity;
And since the discreet Lover, what vain heat
So ever presseth thee, never shews thus
His Mistress name—
MELINTUS.
But—
CLIDAMANT.
Quit those blind suspicions; as soon
As it is night I'l go unto the Eccho
Alone, and with our noise; I'm all a fire
To know what she will tell me, in the mean time
Let's go unto the Nymph to seek Thersander.
MELINTUS,
softly
To be more sure, and to inform my self
Yet fuller of thy faith in this my doubt,
I'l to the Eccho too, and [...]ind it out.
The end of the second Act.
ACTUS III. SCENA I.
MELISSA, DIANA.
MELISSA.
I Say to thee again that J receive
Much pleasute at this news, that thou, Diana,
Art sister to the generous Thersander;
He hath inform'd me with the strange misfortune
Which separated on the churlish Sea
The Brother from the Sister, in what place
Upon a plank, escaped from the wrack,
The storm remov'd him from the anger of
Th' inraged Sea, what countries he hath seen,
What pains and troubles he hath undergone;
Lastly he nam'd the happy fortune which
Conducted him to us here; I thank Heaven,
That made thee know him, I'm as sensible
Of this content as thou canst be thy self;
He is so highly qualified, that he's worthy
The name of King, ye both shal find with me
A Sanctuary, and what ever fortune
Ye have, I will partake it good or bad;
My fortunes, ye shall bare too, so that all things
Between us shall be common: I believe
Diana towards me will be so well▪
Dispos'd of her part, and that whatsoever
Concerns me, will touch her.
DIANA.
Madam, I should
Be barbarously ingratefull otherwise;
[Page 49]I still remember that being on the Shore,
Cast as a wretched wrack there by the floods,
Expecting every minute deaths approach,
I met with you my port and sanctuary:
Oh that I have not power for all this goodness
T' express how much acknowledgement I have!
MELISSA.
Thou hast.
DIANA.
How Madam?
MELISSA.
In expecting nothing
But death as I do now, thou canst be to me
At thy turn both my port and sanctuary;
Thou canst subdue the enemy that braves m [...],
That of a Soveraign will make a slave;
He's in thy power, thou canst abate his courage.
DIANA.
What is that enemy which troubles you?
MELISSA.
He's one whose Magick can enchant the arms
Of the most Valiant; he can draw tears from
The most Heroick; nothing is so strong,
Which he can't compass; and without respect
To any place or person whatsoever,
He equally distributeth his flames.
DIANA.
I know him not yet by this Character.
MELISSA.
How know'st thou not that tyrant of great Monarcks?
That famous Conqueror of Conquerours,
Who notwithstanding is but a blind child?
DIANA.
If J durst to express me, J believe,
[Page 50]I know him.
MELISSA.
Speak it freely.
DIANA.
I'm mistaken,
Or I have seen love painted in such colours,
Blind and a child, yet a great Conquerour.
MELISSA.
'Tis the same love whereof I speak unto thee
DIANA.
Who is the happy Lover that procures
Your martyrdome?
MELISSA.
Alas! could'st thou not spare me
The shame to speak him? cover, gentle night,
Immediately those places and my brow
With the same colour, so to please my heat;
I love; but let us finish since I've said
I love, Thersander is my object.
DIANA.
What,
My Brother?
MELISSA.
He▪ If his heart be a prize
Not easie to be gain'd, there's nothing which
I would spare for him, I would arm to have him;
Nought should oppose me, every obstacle
J would o'rcome; already by some words
Which he observ'd not, spoken by the bie,
My love was half expressed.
DIANA.
As he should not
Dare to pretend unto so great an honour,
He would be criminal, if he believed
To understand you.
MELISSA.
[Page 51]Well then, be thou here
The mouth and true interpreter of my heart,
Express the kind heat of my timerous soul;
Tell him that I'm a subject to his Laws,
That he may boldly fix his thoughts upon
The person of Melissa, and not fear
To be condemn'd, that his ambition
May soar so high a pitch, and not be check'd,
That he may sigh the same sighs with a King;
Husband thar heart for me, to which mine aims;
But let him not think that it comes from me;
My honour would receive a prejudice
By such a thought, thou only shalt acquaint him
With this, as from thy self.
DIANA.
J understand you,
He must needs yield to this; I'l do your will.
MELISSA.
As soon as he appears, I will retire me,
And from one of these places I shall hear
Every word that you speak one to another
In reference to my flame.
DIANA.
I should methinks
Act with more freeness, if J were to treat
With him alone.
MELISSA.
No, J will hear my self
What he thinks of me, J can best of all
Trust mine own ears and eyes in this affair.
DIANA.
But, Madam, after all—
MELISSA.
Shepheardess,
[Page 52]The thing's resolv'd, thou need'st not say no more.
Untill he come, J pray thee, entertain
These woods here with some air, and let us see
If the Eccho will answer to thy discourse;
DIANA.
Your prayer is a command; some plaints of love
Shall make the subject of it.
MELISSA.
What thou wilt.
DIANAS Song.
Ye Trees, ye Rocks, perfumed Valleys, sweet
And charming Zephirs, murmuring fountains keep
My griefs close in your bosome, you alone
Are witnesses unto my fires and mone,
Tell me if my sad heart, not daring to
Delare it it self, at least may sigh its woe?
May sigh its woe—Eccho.
Well then my sighs, make no noise as pe passe
The airy Regions only breath alas
Vnto the [...]eart that sent you forth; since I
Can't speak to thee, dear object of my cry,
Let th' Ecco, that's attentive, say for me
That if I love (as sure I do) 'tis thee.
'tis thee—Eccho▪
SCENA II.
THERSANDER, MELISSA, DIANA.
THERSANDER.
DIana's here about, her voice assures me.
MELISSA
to DIANA
softly
Thy Brother comes here, take this opportunity.
Be sure thou speak unto him loud enough;
Thou art my only hope; I go from hence
To hear, and to observe thee.
DIANA.
softly.
We are undone,
Thersander will discover all in speaking.
THERSANDER.
'Tis now no longer time to utter sighs,
Let us resume our joy, and dry our tears,
Crown our sad spirits with flowers, and think no more of
Our pass'd misfortunes, let's form our discourse
Of the most pleasant thoughts, and let us chat
Of love.
DIANA.
Let me alone, I'l entertain thee
Upon that subject.
THEERSANDER.
It belongs to me
To speak of that, and when I do consider
With what darts in my heart—
DIANA.
I know it well
'Tis of a longer date then from to day,
That I have read thy heart; and I believe
[Page 54]That never any one hath seen a Brother
To love his sister so.
THERSANDER.
The love wherewith
I am assaulted, and would make thee see,
Exceeds that of a brother, it begets,
Complaints and Sighs, it driveth to despair,
And kills; the love we bear unto a Siste [...],
Makes not so many sufferings; but J love—
DIANA.
J divine whom, thou burnest with desire
To speak unto me here of Celia [...]s love.
THERSANDER.
Thou do'st divine right, J take a great pleasure
To speak of it with thee; methinks I see her
Still when J look on thee; how fit I find thee
To be the faithfull guardian of my love,
Assur'd of thy fidelity, and that
Thy heart is alwaies mine.
DIANA.
Thou need'st not doubt it.
THERSANDER.
O my dear!
DIANA.
Brother I'm not ignorant
How dear I am unto thee.
THIMANTES.
Thy fair eyes—
DIANA.
How! flatter and court thy sister
By thy discourse?
THERSANDER.
I cannot speak, unto thee
Thou interrupt'st me still.
DIANA.
[Page 55]Th' advice is worth it, and I'l give rhee notice
That from esteem they pass to love for thee,
That scarce arrivedst thou unto this place
But thy good fortune without any trouble
Gain'd thee the conquest of a heart, for which
Great Kings will envie thee, it is Melissa's.
THERSANDER.
O Gods! what dost thou say?
DIANA.
What doth astonish thee,
I see how thou art troubled to believe it.
This great heart finds no place yet in thy faith:
To make thee happy in't, I must imbrace thee.
She speaks softly to him, in imbracing him.
The Nymph hears our discourse, 'tis fit thou feign.
She speaks loud again.
Wilt thou not yield to this excess of honour?
Think that thy Celia in this conjuncture,
Hath no resentment in her heart against thee,
Nor murmurs at it.
THERSANDER.
In this extasie
Wherein I am through this excess of honour,
I'm seeking of my self, but cannot find me.
How! dare to love the Nymph? t'aspire to her?
No my ambition's not so criminal.
DIANA.
Under those high respects, J see thy love.
THERSANDER.
How can I otherwise express it, Sister?
If the Nymph tempts me, and will make a crime on't,
It shall then have the name but of a lawfull
[Page 56]Respect; and if I see occasion
T'express me further on this point, this lawfull
Respect shall bear the bolder name of love.
DIANA.
Brother, it hath that name, and J am ready
To boast unto her, her illustrious conquest:
But the Sun, J perceive, plungeth himself
I' th' waters, and the shadows seise the tops
O' th' Mountains, it is time now to betake me
Unto Melissa; but behold, she comes.
Melissa comes forth from the place where she was hidden.
MELISSA.
What serious discourse have you together?
DIANA.
Our subject is of Love, of Mistresses,
Of Servants, and of Sighs.
MELISSA.
What! hath Thersander
Already gotten him a Mistress?
THERSANDER.
Madam,
I have too little merit and address:
Besides to serve, to honour and obey you,
I have no other thought; our discourse was,
Your goodness for us, which my heart shall ever
Record as in a Register of Brass,
Where my acknowledgements shall never pass.
SCENA III.
MELINTUS, MELISSA, DIANA, THERSANDER.
MELINTVS.
calling.
HO, Clidamant!
MELISSA.
It is enough, let's go,
I hear some noise, and would not be seen here
I'th' night.—
Exeunt Melissa, Diana, Thersander.
MELINTUS,
continuing to call.
Ismenia, Clidamant! they hear,
But flie me, and the night robs my sight of them;
But this is not Ismenia, and I am
Deceived much, if I saw not the gate,
The stature, and the gesture of Diana;
Yes, Clidamant abus'd me with a lie,
Diana builds his fortune at my cost,
And that note which he would conceal from me
Without doubt was subscrib'd with her fair hand;
Yes, 'twas Dianaes, though he read Ismenia,
To spare my grief a little, and my trouble.
How simple was J that J followed
Not close upon his steps: but soft, methinks,
J hear a noise, perhaps it may be he.
SCENA IV.
CLIDAMANT, MELINTUS.
CLIDAMANT.
O Night, lend me thy silence, make these woods
To hold their peace in th' absence of the day,
And let no sound be heard here but my love:
At last I'm happily delivered from
A troublesome companion, that would
Obstruct my fortune, that same jealous Shepheard
Without respect and faith.
MELINTUS.
I'm much oblig'd
Unto thee for this noble character
Thou giv'st me; in despight of all my care
And cunning thou art come without my company
To see thy lovely Mistress.
CLIDAMANT.
I came here
To meet another person: for my Mistress,
I have already spoken with her fully.
MELINTUS.
Yes, if mine eyes deceiv'd me not, thou talkd'st
Unto Diana, and seeing me follow,
Ye both fled at one time, these Woods conceal'd you.
CLIDAMANT.
Good Gods! what saiest thou to me?
MELINTUS.
But I'l be
More wise another time, and heed you better.
CLIDAMANT.
I understand not what this language means,
But this distrust doth me an injury:
[Page 59]Why covet'st thou t' accompany me thus,
Since th' object that expecteth me, forbids it;
Desirest thou to publish secret passions?
Ismenia in thy sight gave me those Tables;
'Tis she that doth expect me at the place
Appointed; for Diana, she knows nothing
Of this invention: if thou canst, injoy
That lovely Shepheardess and think not me
Guilty of any treason, I seek only
Ismenia, and shun society:
In this affair, Shepheard retire thy self
And leave my love in peace, why wouldst thou do me
So ill an office?
MELINTUS.
This appointed meeting
Denotes some artifice; I observ'd lately
At our last Games the amorous commerce
That pass'd between Diana and thy self,
So many kind respects, such gentle glances,
And private whisperings forming the suspicion
That still awakes me.
CLIDAMANT.
Cease to trouble me,
And thy self too unnecessarily;
Our discourse only was an effect of
Civility; I say again, I leave
Diana to thee; oh how perfectly
I hate those vain suspicions and condemn them!
MELINTUS.
Ismenia's very free she would have had
Boldness enough to express her love by day,
Why should she make choice of the night to speak it?
Why dar'd she not to utter it in words,
But writ it to thee?
CLIDAMANT.
[Page 60]In vain jealous Shepheard,
Thou askest me that question, all that I
Can say unto thee, is that I am sent for;
I cannot tell thee more if the occasion
Be good or bad; if J could satisfie thee
Upon that point, believ't thou should'st excuse me.
MELINTUS.
I'l follow thee where ere thou goest.
CLIDAMANT.
Oh Gods!
What a Tormentor have I?
MELINTUS.
I attend thee,
CLIDAMANT.
Then stay thou here, I'l leave the place unto thee.
I feign to withdraw, to withdraw him also.
softly.
Exit.
MELINTUS.
What! leav'st thou me alone? and cunningly
Hid'st me those secrets, which yet I must know:
Feign as much as thou wilt, in spight of thee
I will [...]ind out to which of those two objects
Thou giv'st thy faith, and dost direct they vows,
I'l be a witness of thy secret love;
Another shall inform me on't, Thimantes
Will tell me all the Plot; to him I'l go,
And give him notice of the assignation;
He'l come to let me know sure, if Diana
Appeareth there; or if it be Ismenia,
J shall do him a mischief; when Thimantes
Shall see his Mistress appoint secret meetings
To others then himself at such an hour,
[Page 61]He hath a poor spirit if he loves her still:
So shall I have pleasure in my resentment
In weakning the [...]ierceness of Ismenia,
And of her servant, I'l to him immediately.
SCENA V.
PARTHENIA, ISMENIA.
PARTHENIA,
upon the terrass.
I Hear a noise, Ismenia, is't not Clidamant?
ISMENIA.
Fear not, we shall hear of him presently.
PARTHENIA.
J hear no more noise, all is husht and still;
Only the night, and silence raigneth here.
ISMENIA.
Hark, J hear something, let us handsomly
Dissemble now.
PARTHENIA.
Oh how I feel my soul
Seised with love and fear!
SCENA VI.
CLIDAMANT, ISMENIA, PARTHENIA.
CLIDAMANT.
NO person follows me,
J am at liberty; jealous Melintus
Haunteth my steps no more.
ISMENIA.
Madam, 'tis he.
CLIDAMANT,
[Page 62]Well I'l go on ro instruct me what Ismenia
Hath to impart unto me in these Gardens:
Ismenia!
ISMENIA.
Clidamant.
CLIDAMANT.
Is it thee, Ismenia?
ISMENIA.
Yes, I expect thee.
CLIDAMANT.
Thou may'st have pretence
T'accuse my tardy comming, but a jealous—
ISMENIA.
It is enough, thou art belov'd, assure thee;
Draw neer; but let us speak soft, I'm afraid
We should be heard.—
Put your self in my place and take this opportunity.
softly.
SCENA VII.
THIMANTES, CLIDAMANT, PARTHENIA, ISMENIA.
THIMANTES.
Speaking to Melintus behind the Stage.
I Am oblig'd to thee for this advertisement;
If J find at the Eccho either of them,
Diana or Ismenia, believe me,
I'l faithfully report it, to remove
Thy trouble, if J can: Ismenia
Appoints me very often here to meet her,
Where, notwithstanding her inconstancy,
Her mouth in secret giveth me the hope
Of a most constant love, and for a pledge
[Page 63]Of her faith, never any but my self
At those hours entertains discourse with her:
I'l to her now, and charge her with this crime
Of comming here without acquainting me.
I'l approach softly without making noise
Lest it might raise a scandal in the night;
Ismenia,
CLIDAMANT.
quitting Parth.
Some noise hath struck mine ear,
I'l return to you—
Exit.
PARTHENIA.
O what feat is comparable
To mine! Ismenia, come to me presently.
CLIDAMANT,
speaking to Thimantes, whom he takes for Melintus.
Melintus, really I can no longer
Suffer your importunity? why should you
Imagine that J am the Author of
Your trouble? J speak to no person her [...]
But to the Shepheardess Ismenia;
J tell thee once again, she sent for me,
And J am certain that the note is written
And signed with her hand; 'tis true, this fair one
Sighs only for the love of me, her mouth
Hath told it me already, and I answer
Unto her fires with a mutual heat;
Assure your self, and settle upon this
My faithfull protestation, that Diana
Ne'r made me sigh.
THIMANTES.
softly.
O most persidious!
CLIDAMANT.
See what an injury you do me now,
To satisfie you yet more fully hold,
[Page 64]There are the writing Tables, see her name.
Examin't well, and take repose at last
Without disturbing mine. D'ye place your glory
In persecuting me?
THIMANTES.
softly.
Shame of my love,
Depart my memory, J have wherewith
Both to reproach, and to convict thy falshood;
And when I've done it, treacherous spirit, I'l quit thee,
And then J shall be satisfied.
CLIDAMANT.
Melintus,
What is't thou murmur'st yet? J must break with thee,
If this st [...]ange humour lasts, in acting thus,
You will lo [...] all your friends, your jealous head,
And strange fantastick humours, but he's gone;
I will return unto the object which
Both charms and loves me.
PARTHENIA,
to ISMENIA.
There's our discourse,
Make an end on't thy self.
CLIDAMANT.
I'm rid at last
Of my impertinent; jealous Melintus
Hath left me now.
ISMENIA.
Adieu, let us retire.
I'm certainly inform'd that thy ambition
Aspireth to Parthenia, in vain then
Thou holdest me discourse.
CLIDAMANT.
In two words J will tell thee, that J have
[Page 65]Too full a knowledge of the eminence
Of her condition, as to dare to lift
My hope so high: Oh if I durst to love her;
But being less ambitious, J obey
My duty, and J better know my self,
Adieu until to morrow.
PARTHENIA,
to ISMENIA.
Oh Ismenia!
What content have J? and how skilfull art thou
In this affair of love? I do admire
Thy wit, and thy invention; the thing
Answered my wish.
ISMENIA.
By this discourse of his
You may perceive love under that respect,
Like fire under its ashes; 'tis not lately,
Your charms have taken him.
PARTHENIA.
In the mean time—
ISMENIA.
In the mean time, live all fair wits, say J;
Without me, you had been reduc'd unto
A sad condition, to die with grief,
And love, without expressing it.
PARTHENIA.
'Tis late;
Come, in the absence of the day let's prove,
If sleep will follow on the steps of love.
The end of the Third Act.
ACTUS IV.
SCENA I.
THIMANTES, ISMENIA.
THIMANTES.
HOw! in the night, persidious, to exasperate
My anger, dar'st thou to grant private meetings
To any but my self? yea in the night
Without light and attendance in the Garden,
Thou entertain'dst the Shepheard Clidamant.
ISMENIA.
How's this! Thimantes in a rage, O Gods!
Who would have thought it?
THIMANTES.
Wilt thou say that J
Complain now without reason, that J have
A crack'd brain, and bleer'd eyes? it is too long▪
Inconstant, to arrest thy spirits, behold
This witness, it hath told me every thing;
Yet J should not believe that thou wert guilty,
If such an evidence accus'd thee not,
But since J dis-ingage my faith to thee,
This very instant, J restore thy papers
And will have nothing more to do with thee.
ISMENIA.
Well, let it be so then, J doubt it not,
But J shall be provid [...]d in good time;
When one forsakes me, presently another
Offers his service, otherwise J should,
In this unlucky moment of thy change,
Be destitute of an officious Lover;
But thanks unto the Gods, more then one calls me
[Page 67]His Mistress, and J shall have no less courtship
And press for thy departure, these notes here
Express the names of those that I've subjected,
I'l blot thee presently out of my Table-book.
THIMANTES.
Light Shepheardess!
ISMENIA.
For all this J am troubled
For thy disquiet, without further jesting,
Know that this trouble which possesseth thee
Proceeds but from a fiction, speedily
I'l clear it to thee, only have but patience
To stay here till the Shepheard Clidamant
Arrives, before whom I have order to
Discover the deceit; and then I know
Thou wilt excuse me for it.—
here he comes.
SCENA II.
CLIDAMANT, ISMENIA, THIMANTES.
CLIDAMANT.
HAve J not staid too long? suspect me not,
Thimantes, J was sent for: well what is
Your pleasure?
ISMENIA.
Thy misfortune is extream
Thimantes cannot suffer that another
Should love me, and one that accompt intends
To measure with thee sword and arm to day.
CLIDAMANT.
He is my friend, and therefore J am loath
To have a quarrel with him; to acco [...]d it,
Chuse of us two him whom thou think'st most faithfull.
[Page 68]I am content to stand unto my fortune.
ISMENIA.
Thimantes, what say you?
THIMANTES.
J agree to 't.
ISMENIA,
to CLIDAMANT.
Then thus; for him, J do confess I love him
A little, but for thee,—nothing at all.
My mouth interprets truely what my heart thinks
CLIDAMANT,
O the most fickle and most want on issue
Of the inconstant sex! thou lov'st a momen [...],
J love a moment also.
ISMENIA.
Notwithstanding
J have a secret to impart unto thee.
CLIDAMANT.
A Secret in thy heart loseth its name
In less time then a minute, without doubt:
ISMENIA.
Thou thought'st last night, that I discours'd with thee
At th' Eccho of the Garden?
CLIDAMANT.
Yes,
ISMENIA.
But what
If thou wert then deceiv'd, and that another
In my place counterfeited there my voice?
CLIDAMANT.
What hast thou told me?
ISMENIA.
That which may be true.
CLIDAMANT.
[Page 69]J cannot comprehend it, nor find thee;
Thou dost do nothing but deceive at all times,
And in all places; thou canst turn thy heart
And eyes into all sences; how! an other
Possess my place?
ISMENIA.
What if by this advise
J gained thee the heart of a fair Mistress,
One that's illustrious, and of noble blood,
And who after the Nymph hath the chief rank!
CLIDAMANT.
Well feign thy fill, thou may'st speak what thou list;
I'm henceforth in no humour but to laugh.
ISMENIA.
If by the greatest oaths wherein my honour
Can be ingag'd, thou wilt believe the truth
Of what J told thee, that another person
Beside my self receiv'd thy vows last night
J hope thou wilt find out some fitter Epithits
Then false and wavering for me.
CLIDAMANT.
After such
An obligation, my charity
Would sway me much.
ISMENIA.
Then solemnly J swear,
It was Parthenia in my place, to whom
Thou didst express thy love; she borrowed
My name and shape, and thine eyes suffered
This sweet imposture.
CLIDAMANT.
Still thou dost abuse me,
J knew thee by thy voice.
ISMENIA.
[Page 70]When we spake loud,
'T was I that spake; then presently Parthenia
Advancing in my place discovered softly
Her soul and thought unto thee: after this,
Iudge, if I have deserv'd from thee, or no.
CLIDAMANT.
How! is it possible that she, to whose
High rank, I should not dare t' aspire unto
So much as in a thought, that she to whom
I durst not speak a word in way of plaint,
That she, to whom my high respect conceal'd
My amity, should yet feel pitty for me?
Alas! this cannot be, 'tis sin to think it.
ISMENIA.
Thou shalt see if I lie, and how sh' esteems thee;
I wait her here.
CLIDAMANT.
Therein I should obtain
The hight of my ambition; for this favour,
Oh let me kiss thy hands and die with pleasure.
SCENA III.
PARTHENIA, ISMENIA, CLIDAMANTES, THIMANTES.
PARTHENIA.
WHat spectacle is this? I see Ismenia
Sports with my fortune, if I trouble you,
I will retire, continue that rare favour;
Who freely gives the hands, may give the heart.
ISMENIA.
[Page 71]Ha! Madam, really you are a novice
In love; I gave him intimation of
The arri [...]fice we us'd, and he at first
Received my discourse with so much joy,
That he crav'd from me that civility.
Unto what jealous strange suspitions
Are you drawn by this object! he but aim'd
To kiss my hand, and you are like to die for't?
Trouble your self no more thus to no purpose.
PARTHEIA.
Ismenia thou restor'st me life, and rest,
I love thee, Clidamant; this jealous fit,
Methinks, might well have spared me the shame
Of telling it.
CLIDAMANT.
Fair Nymph, believe—
PARTHENIA.
Bur let us
Enter into this Wood.
CLIDAMANT.
I wish the Eccho,
Sometimes a friend to Lovers, would redouble
My voice in saying to you that J love,
And make you to repeat my words, J love.
PARTHENIA.
Ismenia, be a faithful witness of
Our chast amours, and come along with us
To hear what we discourse, Thimantes be
Discreet and secret.
THIMANTES.
Madam, I'm all silence.
See, what a strange unnecessary evil
Is that a jealous person doth sustain;
Foolish Melintus how thou art deceiv'd
[Page 72]In thinking that Diana is the object
Gf Clidamant's affection—here she comes
Discoursing with her brother, J will leave them.
SCENA IV.
DIANA, THERSANDER.
DIANA.
LEt us consider what we are to do,
She loves thee infinitely, and J have
Command from her to speak to thee again▪
In her behalf.
THERSANDER.
Advise me what to do.
DIANA.
Since the Nymph loves thee with such passion,
As I perceive she doth, 'tis fit thou flatter
Her grief a little, otherwise I fear
That I shall lose thee after having found thee.
What mischief can she not do, when provoked?
THERSANDER.
Since there needs but to feign all will succeed.
DIANA.
In the mean time, Ismenia will be carefull
To inquire for us, when the Merchant-ship
That's bound for Sevill will be fully ready
To set sail from the harbour; we shall hire him
To land us where we will; till when, our care
Must be not to offend the Nymph, for fear
She ruine us; she'l presently be here.
She's come already; act the Lover well,
Dissemble handsomly, therein consists
All that we can expect.
SCENA V.
MELISSA, DIANA, THERSANDER.
MELISSA.
A Word, Diana.
Hast thou remov'd that fatal obstacle,
Which came to intetrupt the pleasant course
Of my affections? hast thou setled
My lifes content, and razed Celia
Out of thy Brothers spirit?
DIANA.
His heart follows
Where my voice and his glory calleth him,
And cheerfully yieldeth obedience
To such sweet Laws.
MELISSA.
Blessed Interpreter
Of a most ardent love! hast thou advis'd hi [...]
To keep it secret?
DIANA.
Only that point, Madam,
J have forgotten, but J will redeem it;
And tell him on't before you; if you please
That I go for him.
MELISSA.
Go, and bring him hither.
DIANA.
softly.
Feign handsomly unto her
THERSANDER.
softly to Diana.
Fear it not.
I'l speak before her but of you, and to you,
And yet not make her jealous.
THERSANDER.
aloud.
Could you doubt
My heart should be so stupid, and insensible
Of my felicity how happy is
My fortune, and how gentle was the storm
That gave me this bless'd port, whereof great Kings
Are jealous? What proud Conqueror would not
Submit and lay his arms down with himself
At the fair feet of such a charming object?
A rude obdurate rock, would be consum'd,
The coldest Marble would be kindled by it:
Yes, Madam, a fair eye but openeth
Its lid here, & 'tis day; the nights black shadows
Fly only from the Sun of those bright eyes,
Her fires too at the sight of them grow pale.
I must confess then, Madam, that J love them,
And that J live more in this beauteous object
Then in my self: my spirit is charmed with
A happiness unparallell'd, when J
Think that J love them, and am lov'd again.
MELISSA.
Come, thou but feignest love? do not abuse me.
THERSANDER.
O Gods! what do you say? Madam, J love
Or rather J adore.
MELISSA.
How hast thou then
Dispos'd of Celia that reign'd o'r thy heart?
THERSANDER.
That affair's ordered well, I've put her interests
Into my Sisters hands; sh' 'ath promis'd me
[Page 75]To make all fair of that side, and will answer
To me for her.
MELISSA.
Hast thou not boasted to me
That her eyes were the object of thy love?
That for thy sake she cherished the light
Of the alternate day, and that they would
Cover themselves with an eternal night,
If thou shouldst cease to live or to be faithfull:
Think well of thy part what th'ast promised;
Be firm, be constant, fail not in that point,
Consider not at all this supream greatness;
Stick to thine object, love it for it self,
And have no interest for thy ambition,
Flatter thee with the honour to possess her,
Look only if she loves thee, not if she
Enricheth thee; the beauty whom thou serv'st,
Should be thy crown, all greatness whatsoever
Should be esteem'd in thy accompt beneath it.
THERSANDER.
Ne'r doubt it, Madam, J shall have those thoughts;
Greatness shall never blind me so far forth
As to oblige me to forget my love;
Which alwaies shall pure as the day [...]tar burn
Base interest shall never sully me.
DIANA.
I'l tell my Brother now, what I forgate
To THERSANDER.
If thou know'st well to love, know thou as wel
To hold thy peace, love like the other Gods,
Is not without his secrets, he is serv'd
Sometimes by hearts that can't express themselves:
Take heed how thou provoke his jealous power,
[Page 76]Adore his Altars, but adore in silence;
For silence is a part of his Religion;
And oftentimes this fierce God is offended
At his own name; if any thing hereof
Should be known in the Isle, thou art undone:
Love, without speaking of it, that's the law,
Which is imposed on thee; she for her part
Will love thee likewise, use the secret well,
Melissa otherwise would die with grief;
J know th' excess of love wherewith thy soul
Is filled; but for thy own interest,
Put a seal on thy mouth.
MELISSA.
Yes, have a care
That none suspect our love, I'l take my time
To publish it, in the mean time I'l study
Thy set [...]lement and thy repose which makes
That of my life; this free confession now,
Would call up envy from her Cell, and make
Our greatest Hero's, to dispute with thee
What J have promis'd thee, thine enemies.
Judge then how precious thy obedience is;
Since all thy good and happiness depends
Upon thy silence.
THERSANDER.
Sure, J should be strucken
With a strange blindness, if J observ'd not
This your command; J will obey so well,
That, Madam, even you your self shal doubt
Whether J love, or whether you J love.
MELISSA.
In the mean time thy sister shall assist me,
And have the ordering of our Amours;
Believe what she shall say, since I will make her
My only bosom friend, unto whose trust,
[Page 77]J will commit the secrets of my heart.
THERSANDER.
J will make use of her in the same manner.
Enter Melintus, he speaks to Melissa
MELINTUS.
Madam, a Jeweller, that useth still.
To come unto the Games, desires accesse
Unto your presence.
MELISSA.
Cause him to come in:
This Sevil Merchant cometh every year
To sell and traffick in the Island with us.
SCENA VI.
MELISSA, MERCATOR, THERSANDER, DIANA, MELINTUS.
MELISSA.
SHall you remain sometime yet on our shore?
MERCATOR.
I stay but for your Passport to depart.
Every year, Madam, by your Highness bounty
My traffick thrives so well, that whatsoever
Commodities I bring unto your Isle,
J carry nothing back, you empty still
My casket: now I'l shew you, if you please,
such rarities, as can be had no where
But in my hands.
MELISSA.
Let's see them.
MERCATOR.
Here's a Diamond
Darts flame of all sides.
MELISSA.
[Page 78]'Tis a sparkling stone
I like his lustre.
MERCATOR.
Will you have it, Madam?
MELISSA.
I'l tell you presently, shew all at once,
Then I shall soon chuse: let me see that Coral.
MERCATOR.
The piece is very fair; till now your Isle
Hath never seen the like.
MELISSA.
And what's that other?
MERCATOR.
A piece of Amber-greece; Madam, 'tis rare
And of great price; I have pass'd divers Seas
To purchase it; alone 'tis worth as much
As all my casket.
DIANA.
For my part, J cannot
See any thing that's new here.
MERCATOR.
Shepheardess,
This rope of Pearl is very rich and new,
'T would make you look more fair, more gay, more sparkling.
MELISSA.
Without those Ornaments of Art, she is
Charming enough, she needs no strange additions.
She maketh all our Shepheards die for love:
But for all this, though you are fair without them
I will bestow them on you, if you like them.
What saies Diana.
DIANA.
Madam, your great bounties—
MELISSA.
[Page 79]Lay them aside.
MERCATOR.
But, Madam, look upon
This Master-piece of Art, it is the Portrait
In little of the King of Andalousia.
MELISSA.
He's one of the best made that I have seen.
And who is this?
MERCATOR.
It is his favourite
Nearchus sometime Prince of Pichery,
Who by a beauty fatal through her charms,
Gave up his arms, and life unto his Rival,
A gallant Gentleman, his name Cleagenor.
THERSANDER,
the first line softly.
May I believe! good Gods! how he observes me?
But are you certain of Nearehus death?
MERCATOR.
He return'd sorely wounded from the fight,
And died four daies after, as all know.
MELISSA.
His valour seems yet painted in his face.
MERCATOR.
But he that conquer'd him had more by much.
Behold his Portrait.
THERSANDER.
softly
Oh! what sheweth he?
MELISSA.
Is this that valiiant Cleagenor?
MERCATOR.
Yes, 'tis his picture.
THERSANDER.
softly,
O unlucky [...]ccident!
MERCATOR.
[Page 80]Of all those that J had, this only 's left me:
Th' offended King commanded me to carry them
Unto all places where J went, and traffick'd,
That so he might be known, and then arrested;
For after this great Combat, to secure
His head from pursuit, he took flight immediately.
MELISSA.
Thersander, in my judgement, nothing can
Better resemble you, J think your sister
Will say as much.
THERSANDER.
Madam, we see that Nature
Sports sometimes in her works, and makes some feitures
In faces to resemble somewhat neerly.
MELISSA.
This Merchant,, I believe, 's of my opinion▪
MERCATOR.
Madam, without doubt, 'tis Cleagenor,
THERSANDER.
The thing is little certain on the faith
And bare ground of a Portrait.
MERCATOR.
Sir, you are
The very same, I am confirmed now
In my first thoughts, all that which hitherto
Hindered me to judge so, was the name of
Thersander, and the habit of a Shepheard.
THERSANDER.
Who! J, Cleagenor?
MERCATOR.
Yes, Sir, J saw you
The last yeer in the fortunate Is [...]nds, and
Not above four moneths since in Portugal;
[Page 81] Sevll's your native Country; since you meet here
Your safety, to what purpose should you cover
Those things with silence?
MELISSA.
Sure, you need not blush,
Thersander, at this fair acknowledgement.
THERSANDER.
I confess, Madam, that J blush a little,
Not that mine arm hath not done all that which
It ought to do in the death of my Rival,
Nearchus was too rash, and insolent;
From the fair and unspotted object which
Made my most chast desires, he in his thoughts
Formed the object of his filthy pleasures;
But he hath paid for't, and his death is just:
Only the thing that troubles and afflicts me,
And for which I am sorry at my heart,
Is thar J told you nothing of my secret.
MELISSA.
J guess the cause of it, and know your thought.
And what fear troubled it, and that you chose
Another name only to free you from
The penalty o'th' Law; but fear not any thing;
I'l oppose power to power for your defence;
Your interests are mine, J'l make your peace;
The King of Andalousia shall be weary
Of persecuting you; if he persist
To trouble your repose, J'l invade his:
If he refuse to grant what we demand,
From our request we will proceed to arms.
THERSANDER.
What obligation have you upon me
For all your goodness?
MELISSA.
But let's make an end
[Page 82]Of seeing all the rarities.
MERCATOR.
Behold
With admiration, Madam, this rare piece,
It is Diana's Picture.
MELISSA.
How Dianaes?
DIANA.
softly.
O sad misfotrune!
MERCATOR.
It is the Divinity,
Whose Temple's here, the Goddess of this place.
DIANA.
softly,
I cease to tremble, all is well again.
MELISSA.
What Portrait's this?
MERCATOR.
It is a Beauties, Madam,
Whose heavenly graces made two desperate Lovers,
That sight for her, arm for the field, and fight;
It is that fair ones whom I told you of
For whom Cleagenor and Nearchus burn'd,
And who pursued hotly by two Rivals,
Cost the one flight, and life unto the other.
After Nearchus death, I bought his Portraits:
This that he had without doubt's to the life.
But who can better then Cleagenor
Instruct you in this point?
MELISSA,
to THERSANDER.
D' ye know this piece?
THERSANDER.
I know not what to say on 't.
MELISSA.
I observe
Much of thy sisters air in't.
DIANA.
[Page 83]O ye Gods!
Turn aside this misfortune.
MELISSA.
Really
The glass, Diana, which receives thy image,
Represents less thy shape and countenance;
And any other but the Painter would
Believe indeed that he finish'd this Portrait
Upon thy presence.
MERCATOR.
There's no doubt of it.
One may admire in this adventure how
Art imitateth nature: It is she
For whom Nearchus sigh'd.
THERSANDER.
softly.
O Gods! where are we?
Our fortunes now are desperate.
DIANA.
Know'st thou me?
MERCATOR.
I am of the same Town, and therefore know you;
Your mother is Melora, and she dwells
At Sevil; I shal make her a glad-woman
At my return, to tell her that her Celia
Lives yet, and is in health here in this Island.
MELISSA.
How! Celia?
MERCATOR.
Yes, Madam, that is her name,
DIANA.
What cloud of errour blindeth thy soul thus?
That Celia whom thou mean'st, and dost discourse of,
Died before Nearchus.
MERCATOR.
[Page 84]It was believ'd so
At first; but since, all Sevil knows the contrary,
And that false death is now no more a mystery
Unto me; J know where the mourning went,
And how a Coffin only was interr'd
Instead of you, that this apparent sign
Of your death only could secure you from
Nearchus ill designs; I know besides
That you betook your self unto the Sea,
Where you sight not, but for Cleagenor;
The Sea prov'd false to you, and to your mother,
And separated you one from another
By the assistance of a hideous storm:
She having sav'd her self upon a plank
Sought you from one end of the World to th' other;
But hearing no news of you, she believ'd
At her return to Sevil that the Sea
Had swallowed you, and death had made her search
Unprofitable.
DIANA.
Thou knowest secrets which
To me are Riddles.
MERCATOR.
Wherefore should you, Lady,
Dissemble thus your knowledge of a thing
Which is no more conceal'd; one of your people
A complice of the Plot, divulg'd it lately;
Melora too since her return reveal'd
The whole Imposture, all impediment
Being remov'd after Nearchus death:
This that I know, I understood from her.
THERSANDER.
All this thou saiest, is strange news unto us.
MERCATOR.
[Page 85]You have the art, I see, well to dissemble;
But by your favour might it not be you
That did imploy a friend unto me lately
To pray me to receive in [...]o my bark
Two Shepheards, natives of the Town of Sevil?
THERSANDER.
Madam, this Merchant doth compose Romants.
And tells you all these strange adventures only,
To shew his wit, and faculty that way.
MELISSA.
Yet his discourse is not without some ground,
I find good reason so to judge of it;
If I remember well, you willingly
Did put the interest of Celia
Into your sisters hands, she promised
To make all fair of that side, and to answer
To you for her: Merchant, another time
See us again. How both of you abuse me
With an Imposture form'd under false names
To carry on your love in a disguise!
What in my Palace, in my Court, my presence,
Sport with my person thus in a contempt!
Insolent wretches, you shall feel what force
My anger hath when thus provok'd, I'l make you—
THERSANDER.
Oh, Madam!
MELISSA.
Go, Impostor, thou shal [...] answer
For all the troubles of my hear [...]; none ever
Afsro ntd me yet without punishment:
I'l sacrifice you both to my disgrace,
In such a manner, that ye shal repent
Eternally that e'r ye made me blush:
Depart my sight.
THERSANDER.
[Page 86]O what misfortune's this!
MELISSA,
to MELINTUS.
See that you separate them one from another
In several apartments, that they may
Hold no discourse together. O misfortune
Not to be parallell'd! What shall I do?
Of whom should I take counsel in this case?
Shall I hear yet my love that murmureth?
Ought I to suffer, or repel the injury?
It is resolv'd in my offended heart
That those black Passions shal succeed my love,
By which the soul when in disorder, bteaks
The chain wherewith she's ti'd, break forth my fury,
And ruine these ingratefull they shal know
My power, as they have seen my goodness to thē:
They shall not mock at my simplicity,
Nor reproach me for my credulity:
How! treacherous Thersander; oh! that name
Thersander combats yet within my heart,
In its defence, my spirits at this name
Are wavering, and my anger's weak, my hate
Is in suspense; I am not pleas'd with that
Which I demand; I fear what J would most.
Ha traitor, must J to torment my self
Suspend my judgement upon thy destruction?
Must J dispute the case within my self
As doubtfull to determine, no pass sentence
Against him for this barbarous affront:
Arm my despair, and inspire thou my rage:
And let me see how faithfully my Art
Will serve my vengeance in the punishment
Of these ingratefull Lovers, I intend not
To give a sudden death to either of them,
[Page 87]But they shall suffer that which shall be worse:
By the effect, and strange force of my charms,
They shall have, without dying, every day
A thousand deaths; I will continually
By turns afflict the sad eyes of the Lover,
And of his Mistress: both of them shal see,
That they may suffer equally, each other
To die and to revive, this punishment
Is strange and cruell; but 'tis that I use
In my revenges; come, why loiter we
In our design? my heart like flint shall be
Insensible of their calamity.
The end of the Fourth Act.
ACTUS V.
SCENA I.
CLIDAMANT, PARTHENIA.
CLIDAMANT.
MIne eyes and ears ne'r saw, nor heard the like
The miserable cryes of those poor Lovers
Fill all these places with astonishment.
Thersander and Diana are so charg'd,
I could scarce know them, as I now came from them:
Pale death by turns skipping from face to face,
Can't make them yet to dye unto their love:
But, Madam, is it true what's publish'd here
Among the people, that those strange inchantments
Come from Melissa?
PARTHENIA.
Yes, they are the works
Of her Art, without doubt, she could do more yet
Nothing's too hard for her, the destiny
Of mortals seems to be held in her hands,
And as she pleaseth, she disposeth it.
What can she not do, when she is in choler?
The miserable Thirsis feels th'effect,
And rigour of her power by sad experience.
Hath not fame yet inform'd you with his sufferings?
CLIDAMANT.
Yes, Madam, J have heard them fully spoken.
PARTHENIA.
You know then that he lov'd Roselia,
[Page 89]And so deceiv'd the expectation,
And desire of the Nymph who hitherto
Design'd him for my husband, and knows not
That I have love for you; to her commands
This Shepheard was Rebellious: what did she?
Roselia was fair, she became sick;
She wept, she pined, she complain'd; the brightnes
Of her fair eyes, extinguish'd in a moment:
The whiteness of her Lillies as soon faded;
And of so many beauties there remain'd
Only the place, where sometime their seat was,
Her Lover that perceiv'd her taken from him,
Seeks her in every place, but cannot find her:
That was a Master-piece of her Apprentiship;
But this without doubt is another work
Of higer knowledge; if in her resentment
But for my interest she made poor Thirsis
A miserable Lover, judge how far
She may be carried, mov'd at her offence,
In her revenge for her own interest.
CLIDAMANT.
If the Nymph knew the love I have for you,
I could expect no other usage from her;
She would without doubt cause me to be carried
unto some fearfull Island where I should
Be rendered miserable all my days:
But let her art do what it can against me
Imployed by her hate, it shall work nothing
Upon my faith, to do it prejudice:
Oh! could I flatter me with the same hope,
That you would have like constancy for me!
PARTHENIA.
You n [...]ed not doubt of it, I'm wholly yours,
My love is strong, and little fears her anger:
I'l keep it still sincere and firm unto you:
[Page 104]And you shall find me constant unto death:
Should she destroy me with her power, & kil me
I'le rather dye my self, then my affection.
My life can't pay the debt J owe unto you.
SCENA II.
ISMENIA, THIMANTES, PARTHENIA, CLIDAMANT.
ISMENIA.
WHat strange news do we hear? is it true, Madam,
That by th'effects of fortune and inchantment,
Thesander and Diana dye [...]by turns,
And live again to wail their miseries?
PARTHENIA.
Ismenia, tis too true, they are inchanted.
THIMANTES.
If I durst speak my thoughts, & what I've heard,
They impute this injustice to the Nymph.
PARTHENIA.
It is not to be doubted but she is
The Author of it, and this cruel punishment
Denoteth that she studies high revenge,
When she's offended.
CLIDAMANT.
Whatso'er her power be
Which causeth fear, let us go presently
With our complaint unto her: in my judgement,
This is no way to make her self obey'd:
Fear is the parent not of love, but hate.
And that same fatal art which her revenge
[Page 97]Calls to her aid, establisheth her crime,
And not her power. But here J see she comes.
SCENA III.
MELISSA, MELINTUS, CLIDAMAT, PARTHENIA, THIMANTES, ISMENIA.
MELISSA
to MELINTUS.
WHat doth this stroak surprize thee?
MELINTUS.
Truly, Madam,
Their punishment's too great, and all the Jsland
Murmureth at it.
MELISSA.
Shepheards, what say you?
Can J revenge me of an injury?
CLIDAMANT.
Yes, Madam, and th'estate wherin y'ave put them
Hath made all those their friends that envi'd them.
Hear our petitions for them, and be pleas'd
To do them justice: what have they committed
Worthy of such a punishment? for having
Hid their love from you, lived in your Court
Under the name of brother, and of sister,
Deceiv'd the hope and envy of their Rivals,
Conserv'd their honour, and, perhaps, their life,
[...]s this so great a crime, as should be punish'd
By charmes which have no end? must they be made
To dye, and to revive continually
By turns, and by a strange unworthy fate
[Page 62]The living be inforc'd successively
Still to lament the dead? their pittious cryes,
And hideous clamours give both souls & mouths
Unto those rocks to join in plaints with me:
The whole Isle's moved with them, and disturb'd
PARTHENIA.
Madam, I join in this petition,
Vouchsafe to hear me: O forbear to dart
Thunder and wrath upon this happy place,
Where the Gods liberally pour upon mortals
So many an [...] so great felicities:
Begin not to disturb the sweet repose
Of an abode that's savoured by Heaven,
To please those Shepheards, whose devotions
May f [...]x upon some other Sanctuary
More safe, and other Soveraigns more sweet.
THIMANTES.
Yes, Madam, stop the mouth of this sad murmur,
Let it be smother [...]d, this inchantment hath
Continued too long, break, break the charm,
And pacifie our spirits immediately,
Which are astonished at this proceeding.
ISMENIA.
If in the freedom which J use too frequently,
My mouth might dare to speak, and not displease you,
I should then tell you that this rigid course
You take, would leave you here nor Shepheardesses
Nor Shepheards; they would seek this place no more
For their retrait and sanctuary, but shun it
Like a destroying rock▪ and this fair Iland
The glory of the world, would be a wilderness:
To enjoy subjects, rule your passions better,
And be more soveraign over your self.
MELISSA.
[Page 63]Shepheards, and Shepheardesses, your discourses
Astonish and surprize me, know, my Art,
Is a sufficient warrant for my actions;
J could do greater yet, and stranger too:
Though this which you have seen seemeth unjust
Unto you, have you any right, or priviledge
To complain to me, and to murmur thus?
Much less to reprehend, and censure me?
How! should the bold Shepheard Thersander dare
To injure me, and to deride my power?
Should he presume to lay aside his duty
And respect for me, and I wink at it,
That so can punish such an insolence?
Presume it not, the blood of Zoroastres
Is not yet born under so ill a star,
J know its influence better, and can use it
To the destruction of those that wrong me:
Yes, Shepheards, I am skilful in the qualities
Of herbs and roots, and as I have occasion
J chuse them, some for poyson, some for medicine:
When I wil, I prescribe some to confound
The memorie, and to distract the spirit;
But those obnoxious weeds I never use
But for their punishment that do offend me;
Have I not reason to maintain my rank
In dignity and honour? those that dare
To brave me, without doubt, hazard themselves:
My scepter's guarded with enwreathed serpents,
Whose fearful aspects bid all keep aloof,
And threaten death to those that dare to touch it:
Thirsis hath felt their stings: vvhat reason had he
To be an enemy to his ovvn fortune
And interest, in foolishly refusing
The honour of the name to be my Nephevv:
[Page 103]I will advance him, and expect that he
Shall yet accept this honourable title
Of Husband to my Neece; Parthenia,
Your colour changes, but in vain you hide
Your thoughts from me, I can discover them,
I know that you love Clidamant, and more
What you design, and what you do discourse;
But understand both one and t'other of you,
That I must be obey'd in what I will;
My power can force it; take heed ye provoke not
My anger; if J may not be belov'd,
J will be fear'd.
PARTHENIA.
Madam—
MELISSA.
It is enough,
You know my prohibition.
CLIDAMANT,
I hope
To bend her, but at present let's say nothing.
THIMANTES.
We all know your high rank and quality
With reverence and respect, so in that notion
We imploy but our prayers to perswade you;
They are our onely arms, be touched with them,
And dissipate these charms: Thersander now
Begins t'awake out of his fatal fit;
You'l hear his plaints and clamours presently,
His cryes and his despair for his dear Mistress
This is the hour, wherein he is tormented:
This object without doubt before your eyes
Will raise up pitty, Madam, in your heart:
His sighs will quench your anger, and prevail
Much more then we; see he begins to move:
Madam, you will be touch'd, to hear him speak.
SCENA IV.
THERSANDER, DIANA, MELISSA, ISMENIA, PARTHENIA, CLIDAMANT, THIMANTES.
THERSANDER
by DIANAS body.
O Lamentable object! why mine eyes
Were ye not cover'd with eternal darkness,
That J might not have seen this fatal spectacle?
Oh! what cause have I to complain of fortune,
That my sleep is not the last sleep of death?
In the night of the Grave I should take rest,
And not be ty'd to die thus all my life,
I should be there but dust, and this sad sight
Should not have martyred my heart and eyes.
Yes, my dear Mistress, sometime my delight,
Thy sight is now my greatest punishment,
And in this sad estate wherein I see thee,
Thou which wert once my joy, art now my grief;
Thy body's but a trunk that gives me horror,
Thy head all over's smoaking with thy blood,
The graces lodge no more there, I see death
In every place, where I saw love before:
How! dost thou live no more then? have I lost thee
As soon as found thee? hopes born and destroy'd
With an immortal love, fantosme of fortune
Which lasts good but a day, wealth too soon lost,
Brightness too soon put out, excessive joy,
To which so many plaints so soon succeed,
Why in that splend or wherewith all you flatter'd,
My name, did you promise so much unto me,
And give so little. Fair eyes, sometimes conquerous,
Whose lights are shut up in eternal night
[Page 96]In spight of all my prayers, call me not
From death unto the light; is't possible
That I can see here what Diana sees not?
No, no, I live no more since she is dead;
Yet my heart moves; but this last strugling is
But a small spark that's left behind, and shines
A little after death; 'tis but a vapour,
An exaltation, a wind, a sm [...]ak,
Last dying and last kindled; I am coming
To join with thee, object of my desire,
To give thee soul for soul, and sigh for sigh;
Death is my aid, my hope is but in her;
I will express that I am faithful to thee
In that, not able to survive thy fate,
I put my self into the arms of death.
CLIDAMANT.
Madam, you see how great his torment is,
And whereunto your hatred hath reduc'd him;
You see besides how far without proportion
Of the crime to the punishment, the power
Of your inchantment goes; these woods weep at it;
And these rocks which before heard no complaints,
Are pierc'd now with his cryes, and become soft,
And sensible, the Eccho likewise mourns,
And should you onely, Madam, be without
Compassion for him.
MELISSA.
Yes, without compassion;
Since he took pleasure alwaies to displease me,
I'le please my self by a most just return
Jn my revenge, and never cease t'afflict him:
No, think not that J will incline to pitty.
I'm too much injur'd to be pacifi'd:
His sorrow makes my joy, and I am glad
To s [...] that by this famo [...]s punishment
[Page 97] I shall establish my authority.
THIMANTES.
Diana's turn is now; see he revives
To weep her lover, and immediately
To follow him by the force of your Art:
Sad spectacle? hearken unto her grief,
And ope your eyes, and heart to her complaints,
Diana upon Thersanders body.
DIANA.
What, my dear Lover, art thou then but dust?
Alas! thy mouth wants speech, and thine eyes light.
But inspight of the plot which makes me sigh,
I have the happiness yet to lament thee:
Flow, flow, my tears, and pour upon this object
Torrents of flame, not water, there is nothing
So cold in the dark bosom of the Grave,
Which the fire of these Rivers cannot warm:
Yes, by my tears at last, my cryes, my plaints,
Dear ashes, I will kindle you again,
Though cold now and extinguish'd like the Phenix
I'le raise you up again by force of sights,
Which you shall Eccho to me.
THIMANTES.
Madam can you
Behold this sight, and not be moved at it?
DIANA.
Love, canst thou not answer to my desires▪
Thou art a miracle thy self, and therefore,
Methinks, should'st do one: art thou in the world
[Page 98]No more a source of life? oh canst thou not
Restore my lover to me, from whose armes
They 'ave ravish'd him; which of the Gods can call him
Back from the gates of death, if thou canst not?
My dear Cleagenor, J pray thee, answer me
By these my tender sighs, by Celia's name;
How's this! I can pronounce thy name, and mine
And yet, O Gods! thou answerest me nothing;
I see, alas! thy mouth and eyes still shut:
He's dead, and these names cannot touch him now.
Love, since thou hast no power to su [...]cour me
In that point as to make him live, at least
Make me to dye: I come, my faithful lover,
It is impossible I should survive thee;
I feel that my despair t'enjoy thee here
Gives me to death; my heart hath lost the spirits
Which made it move, J scarce can utter more:
Happy thy Celia, if her death could give
Thee life again, if thy sleep might have end
By mine, and if I could with all my blood
Redeem thine; J have done, my love is coming
To meet thy flame, and I expire upon thee
The rest of my sad soul.
CLIDAMANT.
What! is your heart
Not touch'd yet with this object? are you still
Jnsensible of so much grief as she
Suffers by your means? oh! let pitty yet
Disarm your anger, the Inchanted Lovers
[Page 99]Have suffered enough Nymph, break the charm▪
MELISSA.
Yes, I am touch'd at last, J must confess,
And really am sorry for the evil
Which they have drawn through their temerity
Upon themselves; but though their grief appeaseth
My anger now, the charm which I have made
J can't undo; to tell you truly, Shepheards,
Jt is so strong that onely a Divinity
Can break the chance on't; tis decree'd by fate
That it shall last yet longer, and J cannot
Prevent it, though it be my proper work.
THIMANTES.
How! cannot you prevent it? heavenly Gods.
What saying's this? no, no, you have not left
Your anger, but retain it still; and willing
To punish them, and to revenge your wrong,
Will make of them a lasting spectacle
Unto the eyes of all; and to excuse
Your self the better of this cruelty,
Would put it off to some Divinity;
But the Gods by our prayers and tears appeas'd,
Jnspight of your attempts, wil stop your charms:
Yes, Madam, the great Gods condemn your plots,
They are the Soveraigns, and absolute Masters
Of destiny, we hope all things from them,
And that they'l suffer crime no longer here
To raign and tyranize. Thou Goddess, which
Art in this place ador'd which holdest fate,
And fortune in thy hands, which hatest crime,
and whose cares keep the Shepheards that serve thee
[Page 100]In this delightful Island, look upon
The sad estate whereto love hath reduc'd
Two miserable Lovers, whom the Nymph
Pursues with horrid cruelty to death
By fatal charmes, destroy the power of them,
And render to this government again
The liberty to love, and to declare it.
Thunder and lightning.
PARTHENIA.
Ha! what a sudden flash of lightning's this,
That strikes mine eyes, and what a clap of thunder
Shakes all this place?
ISMENIA.
With what a thick black cloud
The Skie is cover'd?
MELISSA.
I believe Heaven trembles,
And its Arch openeth; behold the Goddess
Descends, and maketh sign, as if she'd speak:
We must give audience.
SCENA Ultima.
The Goddesse DIANA.
DIANA.
YOur prayers are heard, let nothing trouble you,
Fair Celia and her Lover both shal live
And love for ever, their afflictions
Are ended, and I have dissolv'd the charm,
No accident shall henceforth trouble them.
They stir'd up pity in you, now they may
Make you to envy them; search all Records,
You'l find no subject equal to their love.
THERSANDER,
to DIANA.
By what inchantment is thy life restor'd?
DIANA,
to THERSANDER.
By what inchantment do'st thou live again?
The Goddesse continues.
I'l recompense their inexemplar vertues,
And pay the price of their affection;
To consummate their happy Nuptials,
I'l ope my Temple, and assure you all
Of my protection. 'Tis my pleasure also
That the love of the Shepheard Clidamant
Be at the same time crown'd with Hymen's honours,
And that he end his daies with sweet Parthenia,
That henceforth he command in the Isle with her;
My justice hath made choice of them to reign.
[Page 102]The Nymph I do degrade, she is too criminal,
And dispense you of your obedience to her;
I'l make the power of her Art unusefull;
And free this Island from all future fear,
And danger; but to save her from the Thunder
Of the offended Gods, I will recive her
Into my Temple, which shall be her Sanctuary.
Her Sex hath' long enough ruled the Province,
I'l change the order of its Government,
And henceforth it shall be under the power,
And wise administration of a Prince,
Which shall be of the blood of Clidamant
From father unto son.
Melissa seeing the Goddess to ascend.
MELISSA.
I confesse Goddesse,
You do me justice in approving crime
One makes himself a complice: without you,
The Gods, high Soveraigns, Masters, and disposers
Of destiny, would, sure, have punish'd me
With death; I go into your Temple now
To imploy other charms, to wash away
My criminal defilements with my tears
To pray unto the immortal powers, whilst J
Have breath, and so disarm them at your Altars:
But to the end her law may be fullfill'd
In every point, Cleagenor, fail not
To love your Celia.
THERSANDER.
O how redevable
Am I to your rare goodness?
MELISSA.
[Page 103]Clidamant,
Enjoy what you deserve, accept Parthenia,
With her, the crown, and succeed happily
The rank which I freely resign unto you.
CLIDAMANT.
You command still, and keep your Soveraign rank,
When the raign is conferr'd upon your blood;
And by all my respects, I shall express
That 'tis but in your name that I'l be Master.
PARTHENIA.
Though Heavens▪ kind hand chuseth a husband for me,
Since you allow him, I'l hold him of you,
And will possess no honour here, nor power,
But to express the more my service to you,
And my acknowledgements.
THIMANTES.
Ismenia,
Must we not couple too?
ISMENIA.
Yes, if the Goddess
Had said it; we'l defer our marriage,
Till she descends again.
CLIDAMANT.
Ismenia,
I command in this place now, and J will it.
ISMENIA.
Since you will have it, I accept his vows
Of faithfull service. If Melintus too
Hath shaken of his jealousie, J must
Be reconcil'd with him..
MELINTUS.
[Page 104]Well, J agree to 't,
Let us remain friends.
CLIDAMANT.
Heaven hath promis'd us
That we shall all be happy, let us go
Forthwith unto the Temple to conclude
This triple marriage, and henceforth we shall
Honour this day as a great Festival.
FINIS.
ERRATA.
PAge the 5. for Scene I. read Scena I. page ibid. line the 5. for you, read your. p. 48. l. 20. for bare, r. share. p. 69. l. 5. for my, r. thy. p. 74. l. 20. for lov'd, r. belov'd. p. 99. l. 4. write in the margent Clidamant. p. 102. l. 25. for nam r. flame. p. 96. l. 8. for exaltation, r. exhalation. p. 97. l. 2. for he, r. she.
THE AMOROUS FANTASME; A Tragi-Comedy.
By Sir William Lower Knight.
Amico Rosa, Inimico Spina.
LONDON: Printed for Fr. Kirkman at the Iohn Fletchers Head over against the Angel-Inn on the backside of St. Clements without Temple-Bar, 1661.
TO HER HIGHNESSE THE PRINCESSE ROYALL.
MADAM,
IN presuming to dedicate this imperfect Peece to the most accomplish'd Princesse of the Earth, I confesse to shew much more ambition then discretion, more rashnes then solid reason and moderation; but seeing ordinarily that the greatest Persons have the least pride, and the most charity, I cast my selfe wholy upon your clemency, and fly the test of your judgment, which being so exact, would doubly condemne me, first in the designe it selfe, next in the conduct, and consequence of it, as being a composition [Page] weak, and unworthy of so high a Patronage. If it may serve to divert Your Highnesse in some vacant hower when your sublime thoughts are suspended, I have the onely end I aime at, and shall glory in the honour and happines to introduce some thing with the New Yeere, which may give you the least satisfaction: My conclusion is a most humble petition for pardon, and a favourable censure of the bould ambition, which I have to entitle my selfe,
MADAM,
Your Highnesse most humble, most obedient, and most Faithfull Servant WILLIAM LOWER.
PROLOGUE To the Court.
HA! what divine shapes strike mine eyes, and make
My tongue to faulter, and my limbs to shake,
Through a respestfull awe and reverence,
Which thus so strongly seyseth on my sense?
These are no Fantasmes, such as we present,
But true Divinities from Heaven sent
To grace our Earthly Theater; then I,
Who cannot stand before such Majesty.
Fall on my knee, and in this posture pray
I may be heard to speak before the Play:
Madam, to you then, from whose beautious sight
Those lesser Starrs derive their borro [...]ed light,
First I addresse me; and although I'm sent
From the proud Poet with a complement
To let you know that he protests and saith
His Sceanes will please, I cannot have that faith:
He sw [...]ares that he prepares a Peece so rich
In high conceptions, that it will bewitch
Your eyes and eares, a Banket that may please
The Danity Pallats of the Deities:
Vnheard of vanity! I cannot chuse
But undeceive you, know tis an abuse,
You'll meet [...]ith no feast here, since the chief dish
Which he presents, is neither flesh nor fish,
But a meere Fantasme, garnish'd like a coarse,
Larded, and serv'd up vvith some love discourse,
Vnsolid matter flourishes of vvitt,
And airy fancies, in my judgment fit
But for the publick Stage, not to appeare
Within the verge of this illustrious Sphere,
Where nothing but the quintescence of vvit
Should dare to enter: humbly I submit
[Page]To your transcendent judgment my advise,
And wish it may be found more rash then wise,
For daign t'applaud the Play, and I'm content
To suffer fo [...] it any punishment,
t' Appease the Poett, whose rage will be hot
Vpon my head, if you protect me not:
Auspitious Planets, rule this night, and shed
Sweet influences on your board and bed.
ACTORS.
- CARLOS.
- Lover of Isabella, and Friend to Fabritio.
- CLARINA.
- Woman to Isabella.
- FABRITIO.
- Lover of Climene.
- CLIMENE.
- Mistresse to Fabritio, and to the Duke.
- JACINTA.
- Woman to Climene.
- FERDINAND.
- Duke of Ferrara.
- VALERIO.
- Captaine of the Dukes Guards.
- ISABELLA.
- Sister to Fabritio.
- ALPHONSO.
- Father to Fabritio and Isabella.
- LICASTES.
- Servant to Alphonso.
- CELIN.
- Servant to Carlos.
- GUARDS.
The Scene is at Ferrara.
THE AMOUROUS FANTASME. A TRAGI-COMEDY.
ACTUS PRIMUS.
SCENA PRIMA.
Carlos, Clarina, in a street.
Carlos.
ARt sure of it, Clarina? is it possible
That Isabella now is sensible
Of what I suffer for her, and resents
In my behalfe the fire which her faire eyes
Have kindled in my heart?
Clarina.
Sir, I assure you,
Tis an undoubted truth, which I receiv'd
From her owne mouth.
Carlos.
I'm much astonished
[Page 10]With a successe so charming.
Clarina.
For my parte,
I wonder that you are astonish'd at it:
Is it so great a miracle, I pray you,
To see a Mayd to chaung? we have a mind
Alternatelie to turne love into hatred,
Or hatred into love, such an effect
As this so common in our Sex, should not
Seeme strang unto you: Isabella. is
Of age sufficient to feele the effect
Both of the fire she kindles, and o'th'evill
Which she procures; the end, Sir, of her coldnes
Should not surprise you: who gives love, can easilie
Take it againe; and when a young heart never
Hath loved any thing, at the first fire
That sparkles, tis inflam'd; my Mistresse is
As sensible as faire▪ you will be happie,
If you are faithfull.
Carlos.
But com'st thou by her order?
Clarina.
To speak truelie,
She willed me to speak as from my selfe;
But, Sir, your goodnes is a gage that makes me
To tell you all, tis by her expresse order
That I have uttered this secret to you
Of such importance; but you must be silent
And discreet, if yov'll profit by the knowledge.
Carlos.
But may I not at least acquaint her brother
With my good fortune? he is bound by friendship
To favour me, and I should doe him wrong
To disguise any thing to him.
Clarina.
[Page 11]Oh! Sir,
That's it my Mistresse, dreadeth, believe me,
Above all things: so farre you must be from
Acquainting him therewith, that you should feare
Least he might have the least suspition of it:
Know you not yet that her inhumane Father,
Will not permit her to give you her hand,
That to uphould the splendour of his house,
He'll rayse his Sonne unto his Daughters cost,
And, (as tis o [...]ten practis'd now a dayes)
To th'one designes his goods, and to the other
A Monasterie?
Carlos.
I know well that her Father
Hath fuch a purpose, but though he be of
A nature so inhumane, sure, her brother
Is not so barbarous: we are tyed together
By such faire bonds of friendship, that I know
He'll mix his interests with mine.
Clarina.
If I
May frelie speak my thoughts here, I must tel you
That interest can break the strongest bonds,
That commonlie men better keep their wealth
Then their fidelitie, and that there is
No friend which they love equall with themselves
Be sure you trust no person now a dayes,
Daunger still followes too much confidence:
The lesse a good is knowne, the sweeter tis:
Lastly Sir, keepe your secretts to your selfe,
My Mistresse doth desire it.
Corlos.
Oh! Clarina,
It is ynough, there is no reason more
[Page 12]In this point to examine now, but I
Obey without dispute; the name of Friend
Must yeild to that of Lover; but shall I
See our faire Mistresse by thy meanes this evening?
Clarina.
Sir, it is verie late.
Carlos.
I know thy skill.
And thou know'st —
puts gould in her hand.
Clarina.
Yes, your liberalities.
I'le goe t'advertise her, as you desire,
And presentlie returne, if you will stay,
Either to bring you up, or to persuade her
To come downe to you. —
Exit Clarina▪
Carlos alone.
Carlos.
Oh how sweet it is
To mollifie a hard and cruell heart!
How charming is Love, when tis mutuall?
what high content, what extasie of joy
Feels a poore captive in his troubles, when
The hand that tames him, helpes to beare his chaines?
A good gain [...]d easilie is not esteem'd:
The more it costs, the more tis pretious:
Although th' Horizon's covered with darknes,
I easilie discerne the dore to open;
Doubtles, tis Isabella, I'le advaunce.
SCENA SECUNDA.
Carlos, Fabritio.
Carlos.
My happines is greater then I dar'd
[Page 13]To fancie is, I can't expresse unto you,
By what soe'r indeavour I can use,
The fullnss of my passion and my joy.
Fabritio.
Deare friend, I doe beseech thee let us leave
Vaine complements, I know shy goodnes for me.
Carlos.
Good God! how I'm confounded▪ tis her brother
Fabritio.
— aside.
Fabritio.
Thou knowest then, it seemes,
How highlie fortune is propitious to me,
My mar [...]iage is concluded and agreed,
And thou com'st without doubt to wish me joy.
Carlos.
Friend —
Fabritio.
I'm certaine, it is this that brings thee hether:
Thou wilt congratulate my happines.
Carlos.
How readie, and ingenious he is
To draw me out of trouble?
— aside
Fabritio.
Thou comes to take part in my ravishment.
Carlos.
Thou should'st doe me a great wrong, to judge otherwise.
Fabritio.
Know then that our desires did jump together:
I was a going hastilie unto thee
To tell thee tbe glad neWes, I did believe
Thou knew'st it not, and did not thinke to be
Prevented, I am highlie redevable
To thy rare friendship.
Carlos.
I doe nothing for thee
That is considerable, my interest
[Page 14]Alone bringeth me hither, and thou need'st not
To thanke me for it.
Fabritio.
How! what interest
Canst thou have in this place?
Carlos.
The same which friendship
Enjoyneth me to take in thy contents.
Betweene two faithfull friends, such as we are,
Everie thing should be common, joy and happines
Possesse [...]h both, when one of them enjoyes it.
Know when I beare a part in thy good fortune,
I more oblige my selfe then thee, and am
So well paid for my care and tendernes,
That there needs no addition of thanks.
Fabritio.
Know also of my part when Fortune doth
Conferre her favours on me, they are dubled
When Carlos shares therein, and would diminish
If he should not partake them; but who comes
So late forth of our house?
SCENA TERTIA.
Clarina, Fabritio, Carlos.
Clarina addressing her selfe to Fabritio thinking to speake to Carlos.
Clarina.
SIr, enter quicklie;
My Mistresse Isabella in her chamber
Expecteth you and will. —
Fabritio.
How, what will she?
Clarina.
[Page 15]Misfortune! tis Fabritio, I must
Dissemble.
— aside.
Fabritio.
Well, what will she, finish now.
Clarina.
Sir, she would speak with you,
T'expresse the joy whereto her love engageth her
On the conclusion of your marriage.
Fabritio.
I know her tendernes, and what I owe her;
Carlos and I will see her presentlie
To give her a good night.
SCENA QUARTA.
Climene, Iacinta, Carlos, Fabritio.
Climene comming out of her house.
Climene.
IT is Fabritios voice this which I heare,
I cannot come forth in a fitter time.
Carlos.
I willinglie waite on you, your desires
Are mine, you need not doubt them —
to Fabritio.
Fabritio.
Let us enter.
Carlos.
How this successe favoureth my flame!
— aside
Fabritio stopped by Climeme.
Fabritio.
But who doth stop me? Heaven! it is a Woman,
It seemes she Would speak with me Carlos stay.
Carlos.
I waite you heere.
Fabritio.
[Page 16]How comes it she withdrawes
When I advaunce?
Carlos.
Withour doubt she hath something
To speak to you in private.
Fabritio.
In the hope
Wherein I am that I am he you seek,
Be not offended that I dare t'approach:
I've courage and civilitie ynough
T'esteeme me fortunare if I could serve you:
T'engage me, Madame, to the offer which
I make to use my utmost cares and paines
T'accomplish your desires, it is sufficient
That Heaven hath given you the advantage to be
Of that faire Sex unto which all owe homadge:
If I may notwithstanding without giving you
The least offence be honoured to knowe
Your name, you will encrease my Zeale in giving me
So faire a satisfaction.
Climene
Take it then,
My deare Fabritio, and know Climene.
Fabritio.
Climene, my faire Mistresse, what occasion
Could bring thee heere at such an hower as this?
Thou doublest my feare and perturbation;
The more thy voice assureth me; the more
Vncertaine am I: and so farre am I
From comming forth of errour, that I enter
Into new Labyrinths, and doubts, I was
More happie when I knew thee lesse; oh what
Designe hast thou, I cannot comprehend it?
[Page 17] CLIMENE.
Climene.
Leave me to speake, then, I will tell it thee.
I will not say what joy and happie rapture
Seised me when I understood the newes,
That by a joynt accord our friends and parents
At last had yeilded to our marriage;
My love, which thou shouldst not forget, exemps me
To discourse this unto thee, and enjoynes me
To a relation much more important▪
And much lesse pleasing,
Fabritio.
How▪ what thing is ther [...]
In nature that can trouble our repose,
Since as our hearts, our parents are agreed?
Climene.
Tis of a longer date then from to day
That Love useth to mingle with his sweets
Much bitternes, those whom he flattereth
At first are seldome happie, his deceit
Is equall to his blindnes, and like Fortune,
H'is constant onelie in inconstancie:
This is a truth, which thou shalt but to sensibly
Conceive: one day which was the fatallest
Of all my life, wherein my father burthened
With age and sicknes had the sorrie honour
To be by the Du [...]e of Ferrara vissitted:
This Prince knew me in this extremity,
And thought to see some charmes upon my pale
And blubbered face, myne eyes unluckily
Wept unto hIs, and from the sources of
My teares his flame took birth,
Fabritio.
Oh Climene,
I feare —
Climene.
[Page 18]That feare offends me; my heart wholie
Was thine, I gave it thee, and the Dukes passion
Stir'd up in me nothing but my aversion:
Though I conceal'd this fire, thou hast no cause
To complaine at it, for before twas knowne,
I hop'd to quench it, and I scarce should yet
Reveile it to thee, if thy interest
Oblig'd me not to speak: on the report
Which was spread of our marriage, the passion
Of the Duke was converted into rage;
He came unto me in his first transport,
Sware to me solemnelie that my choice was
The sentence of thy death, that Love opposing
My punishment, he thought to doe more in
Destroying what I lov'd; and to the end
He might with the more rigour punish me,
He would even to the bottome of thy heart
Goe for to seek me: Lastly knowing well
That his desire is to assault my life
In threatening thine, conducted here by love,
And more by feare, I come to conjure thee
T'avoid his furie; fly hence, what soever
Care for me keeps thee back heere, and to save
My life, preserve thine.
Fabritio.
This discourse is cruel
As much as it appeareth sweet: should you
Advice me to absent me from your person?
Sure I should little know what tis to love,
T'obey you in this point: Come, come, say all,
Confesse your love is chang'd, that my remaines
Of hope must vanish, and that the Dukes flame
Hath dazled you, I see well that mine heere
Is troublesom, that you abandon Love
To follow Fortune, and that poore Fabritio
With all his fetters pleaseth your faire eyes
[Page 19]Lesse then a crowned Captive: I condemne not
This signall rigour; you deprive me of
A happines whereof I was not worthy,
And in receaving of a Scepter offered
Vnto your beauties, you obtaine much lesse
Then you deserve. Raigne, nothing is dishonourable,
To gaine a diademne; and as I love you
More then my selfe, I shal esteem my death
A faire designe, if entering into
A tombe, I leave you in a throne,
Climene.
Fabritio,
Canst thou love me, and speak thus? reallie
Thou detract'st from my glorie in this thought
That I can be unfaithfull, bannish it,
It is thy enemie and mine; suspition
Between us two should be a hideous monster;
Canst thou be ignorant with any justice,
That I love lesse a scepter then Fabritio,
And find more joy in being captive with thee
To raigne over thy heart, then ore the universe?
Fabritio.
It is ynough, Climene, my devout
And a mourous soule, which ever must adore thee
Although thou should'st abuse it, would believe thee:
And though a lye carries a swarthy face,
In issu [...]g from thy mouth it would have charmes;
But how comes it to passe that when thy sweetnes
For my sake flyes a crowne, thou dost ordaine me
To depart, and to leave thee? how to leave thee.
And in a Rivalls power to! no, this remedie
Is Worse then the disease. Suffer my presence,
Or suffer my despaire, what matter is it
Climene.
When two inevitable dangers meet
To invade us at once, tis wisedome still
To think of the most pressing, here thy ruine
Is certaine, being absent, thou canst live;
Consider this, that to what punishment
Soer our love exposeth thee, thou canst not
Suffer but I must suffer too, nor dye,
But I must cease to live, for know absuredlie
My dayes shall finish with thy destiny;
When we are dead, the grave shall be a wittnes
Of our reunion? where I see thee not
No object pleaseth me; if thou art yet
Incredulous of words and protestations,
At least believe my teares.
Fabritio.
Oh open not
Those pretious sluces, keep that treasure in;
Encrease not my affliction with thy griefe:
Not all the blood which tunneth in my veines
Is worth the least drop of these liquid pearles,
The evills wherewith my life is thretened
Are too well payed with a single teare.
Climene.
Oh leave those vaine discourses, and depart.
Fabritio▪
Well, well, Climene, I must then obey.
Climene.
I have as much cause heere to be afflicted,
As satisfied, I feare more thy departure
Then wish it, and I give my faith unto thee,
That thou shouldst not depart, if I could keep thee
And expose but my selfe. Let's separate;
But what! this fatall image robbeth me
Already of my strength, spare me, I pray thee,
In parting hence the danger heere to dye
[Page 21]In bidding thee adiew.
— Exit Climene.
Fabritio.
Climene flyes me;
O lamentable destinie!
SCENA QUINTA.
Carlos, Frabitio.
Carlos.
FRiend, comfort thee.
Fabritio.
I am inconsolable,
And must die, Carlos, since I must absent me.
Carlos.
Thou shalt be happier, if thou wilt heare me,
I have a meanes that thou shalt not depart,
And yet, in safetie too, shalt see Climene,
Alone, and without trouble.
Fabritio.
To abuse
Thy friend, is but an odd way, in my judgment,
T'assist him, tis to aggravate my evill,
And not to heale it: is there any art
To render me invi [...]ible?
Carlos.
For once then
Believe that I will doe for thee a thing
Which seemes impossible, give me leave to speak
And in a moment thou shalt lose [...]hy griefe,
And thy astonishment: Thou knowest well
That Italie hath for a certaine time
Bene troubled with two factions, whose partakers
In everie citie name themselves a loud
The Guelps and Gibelins: on this occasion
[Page 22]My Father and Climen [...]s 'gainst each other
Took an immortall hatred; through their credit
And their condition, each made himselfe
Head of a faction; the Duke receiving
Advertisement thereof, and apprehending.
The issue of this enmity, so stronglie
Conceived, made them both to be arrested,
Not without, reason, and confined them
As prisoners, each one to his owne house.
My Father who saw his pretension vaine,
Knowing his house was neere unto the others,
Had recourse unto cunning, and believed
That everie thing was lawfull to destroy
The greatest of his enemies; to work then
His ruine, and in private too, he caus'd
A close Mine to be digg'd even underneath
His adversaries garden; being finish'd,
My Father fell sick, and soone after dyed;
I was, as thou knowst by the right of birth
Heire of his goods, and not of his revenge;
But though I should now have a hatred for
Climene, I should sacrifice it wholie
Vnto thy love; in opening this Mine.
Thou may'st, without being seen, have easie accesse
Vnto thy Mistresse, and to execute it
Securelie, we will make all men believe
That thou art gone.
Frabitio.
How infinitlie am I
Indebted to thee? how shall I acquit me?
Carlos.
My friendship is offended verie much
At these expressions of acknowledgments.
I'le to the Duke expreslie t'understand
What his intentions are concerning thee.
Enter into my house.
— Exit Carlos.
Fabritio.
[Page 23]I'le goe t'impart
This secret to Climene. But what heare [...]?
SCENA SEXTA.
The Duke, Val [...]rio, Fabritio. Iacinta, Guards.
Duke.
Doe that which I commaunded.
Valerio knocks, at the dore of Climenes house.
Fabritio.
Tis the Duke.
Rage overcomes my reason.
Duke.
What aversenes
Soe'r Climene hath unto my flame
Some little hope yet flattereth my soule,
I've gain'd her woman; who hath promised
This night to bring me p [...]ivatelie into
Her chamber, the dore openeth, Iacintae!
Iacinta comming from Climene.
Iacinta
Yes everie thing succeedeth to your wish,
My Mistresse is deceiv'd and takes you for
Fabritio, she commanded me to open
Without delay, her order doth excuse me
In letting you to enter, lose no time;
But I heare her descend, speake not a word,
Without doubt, she'll mistake her selfe.
Duke.
We will
Be cleer'd therein, let us approach a little.
SCENA SEPTIMA.
The Duke, Climene, Fabritio, Iacinta, Valerio, Guards.
Climene addressing her selfe to the Duke and thinking to speake to Fabritio.
Climene.
WHat would'st thou, my deare Lover?
Fabritio.
a, deare Lover!
Heavens! what is this I heare!
Climene.
I have cause, reallie,
To complaine of thee, could'st thou not one night
At my request refraine my companie?
Yet I excuse thee upon this presumption
That who loves well is little Master of
Himselfe, and can't deny but my charm'd soule
Complaines heere but of being too much lov'd.
Fabritio.
May I believe this? Heaven! am I enchanted?
Climene.
Thou need'st not doubt this truth; when I would be
Angry against thee, suddenlie I check
My selfe, and when my mouth accuseth thee,
My soule defends thee.
Duke.
Fortunate Fabritio
— aside
Fabritio.
O happie Rivall!
— aside.
Climene.
Thou dost know my love.
FABRITIO.
[Page 25]I knew it ill.
— aside
CLIMENE.
What! answearest thou nothing?
Doubts thou my flame, or fearst thou that another
More pleasing object drives thee from my soul?
What ever happens, rest thy selfe assur'd
That my loue and my life shall have one course▪
And that it is impossible for me
No more to love thee.
DUKE.
How unhappie am I?
— aside.
FABRITIO.
How miserable am I?
— aside.
CLIMENE.
What obligeth thee
To murmur still thus to thy selfe? must I
Confirme my love unto thee by some oathes?
If my flame for thee make not all my glorie,
If thou alone possessest not my heart,
And all my thoughts, let —
FABRITIO.
Sweare not ingrate full and perfidious Woman,
It needeth' not, I doe believe thy words.
DUKE.
Thy death shall soone follow thy insolence:
My Guards.
Fabritio flying.
FABRITIO.
It is in vaine to make resistance.
Valerio and the Guards goe after Fabritio.
DUKE.
Pursue, and kill him.
IACINTA.
Alas! I'm dead with feare.
CLIMENE,
I faint, I faint, Iacinta, hould me up.
Duke.
[Page 26]Let him dye, tis but just, too great a merit
Is often a great crime, in ruining
This Rivall, I may gaine what I desire;
And if he perish not, my hope must perish:
Let's see if the successe answeareth my wish.
SCENA OCTAVA.
Valerio, The Duke, Iacinta, Guards.
Valerio.
OH, Sir, tis done, he's dead, in vaine he did
Indeavour to defend himselfe, he fell
Peirc'd with a thousand mortall stroaks, his soul
Found overtures ynough to sallie forth
His bloody body, covered o'r with wounds
Iacinta.
Oh! stay Sir. —
Comming forth of Climenes house.
Duke.
Thy cares are superfluous.
I am reveng'd, Iacinta, and Fabritio
Is dead.
Iacinta.
Oh if you love Climene, enter not
Into the house, she's scarce recovered yet
Of a great faintnes which seis [...]d on her spirits.
Duke.
The blood which I have shed, will cost her teares,
I will not goe, to add unto her griefes,
But retire me, a while, in the meane time,
Valerio, let it be your charge to goe
Vnto Fabritios Father, to acquaint him
With his sonnes death, and further let him know
That for his rash and sawcy insolence,
He hath receav'd but a just recompense.
The End of the first Act.
AGTVS SECVNDVS
SCENA PRIMA.
Isabella, Clarina, In a Chamber.
Isabella.
WHo enters there?
Clarina.
Madame, it is Valerio,
Who from the Duke Discourseth with your Father
Isabella.
What pressing busines might bring him here?
Clarina.
To tell you, I should be a Prophetesse.
Isabella.
A message at this hower's not ordinarie.
Clarina.
It doth appeare as strang to me, as you.
Isabella.
Let us expect the issue on't, and change
Discourse.
Clarina.
You faine would have me speak of Carlos;
Madame, confesse it.
Isabella.
I cannot deny
But I am pleased, when I heare him prays [...]d.
Clarina.
I should not be in my right sense if I
Should speake ill of him, he is a brave man,
And of a Liberall and obliging nature,
He merits much.
Isabella.
But in what manner did he enrertaine
Th' intelligence thou gav'st him that my humour
[Page 28]Towards him was inclined to more sweetnes,
And rhat my heart at last dispos'd it selfe.
To love him?
CLARINA.
With transports, and extasies,
Which cannot be express'd.
ISABELLA.
Hast thou bene careful
To tell him cunninglie, according to
Those rules I gave thee, that to doe him service
Thou didst betray thy Mistresse, and gav'st him
That notice without my consent?
CLARINA.
Yes, Madame
I tould him so, and verie handsomlie;
But your strang love surpriseth me, you feare
that he should know it, and yet tell it him:
If he lesse knew it, would you be more pleas [...]d?
What humourous fancies are in Lovers spirits?
ISABELLA.
Though I love Carlos, (be it reason, or
Fancie that guides me) I believe I doe
My selfe wrong, when I doe justice to him;
The bashfulnes which Heaven hath put into
Our Sex, for bids us to be free in what
Concernes the point of love, nor must we think
any thing lawfull in relation to't:
And by that power, which I know not my selfe,
I cannot without blushing say, I love:
It seemeth that our eyes made to tame hearts,
When those that were our captives doe become
Our conquerours, although they finde the dart
Lovely and charming that subjected us,
Cannot without some shame, behould this change
The art to despise love, my heart no longer
Can practise, but o Heaven! whom see I Carlos?
So late here in my chamber.
SCENA SECUNDA.
CARLOS, ISABELLA, CLARINA.
CARLOS.
PArdon me
This bold intrusion, seeing the dore open,
I could not but lay hould of the occasion;
And following my love, I thought I might
With out offending you with disrespect
Enter, to cast my selfe at your faire feet.
ISABELLA.
How fancie you that I can be so little
Respectfull of my honour, as to suffer
A vissit from you without being offended?
No, Sir, your hope deceives you, and this libertie
You take, denoteth in you little love,
Or too much Vanitie; can I believe
You love me well, in giving to your selfe
A licence thus to make foule-mouth'd detraction
In veigh against me, or can you imagine,
Without great folli [...] in your selfe, that I
Can approve this designe so little modest,
And not b'offended at it?
CARLOS.
Though I can
Produce some reason here for my defence,
I hould me criminall, since I offend you,
And should but little profit to persist
In the opinion of my innocence
When your faire mouth condemnes me,
ISABELLA.
I condemne you,
[Page 30]Tis very true, and for your punishment
I bannish you; you must goe forth.
Carlos.
I dare not
Appeale upon your sentence, but retire;
I obey with regreet, but without murmur.
Isabella.
How Sir, begone so soone, what motives pray you,
Induce you thereunto?
Carlos.
Since you ordaine it
I must depart, tis fitt that I obey you.
Isabella.
I should think, Carlos, that you obey here
Some what too quickly for a perfect Lover:
Believing that you lov'd me, I appear'd
Too proud, and scornefull: t'is an assur'd maxime.
That one loves coldly what he quitteth easily;
Love is but il expressed by respects;
Who readilie obeyes, knowes not to love
Carlos.
I am astonished at this discourse;
Can you Complaine, I quit you, Isabella,
When I obey you gainst my sentiment
When my love glittereth in my submission,
And when by a kinde heat, which is not common,
My happines displeaseth me, when it
Offendeth you? what would you then have said,
If seeking onelie my owne sa [...]isfaction,
I had preferred my desires and wishes
Before yours? in what manner can I please you,
If in obeying you, I anger you?
Isabella.
You argue too well for a man in love.
VVhere love is strong, reason is impotent;
The one can't be establish'd, whilst the other
[Page 31]Subsists; sometimes a mayd would be resisted,
And obstinatelie lov'd gainst her consent;
And as her close desires are verie seldome
Express d, she often speaketh with intent
To meet a contradiction, and to be
Enforced unto that which she desires:
According to this maxime, possibly,
I have on this occasion discours'd
Conrrarie to my sentiment, and perhaps,
I should be so farre from believing me
Injur'd thereby, that you would have oblig'd me,
In not obeying me.
Carlos.
I'm rap'd in pleasant wonder, if those words
Astonish me, they charme me more; if I
Must stay to please you, nothing is more easie,
Then to content you fully in that point:
Seeing obedience is not pleasing to you;
I will stay, Madame, and will not obey.
Isabella.
It is too late; begone, my mind is chang'd;
Occasion is lost assoone as' pass'd;
You would have too much pride, and I should have
Too little, if after such a confession
I should detaine you here.
Carlos.
This order is
Severe and rigourous.
Isabella.
But it is just:
I love not alwaies to be disobey'd.
Follow Clarina, goe, and have a care
You be not seen. O Heaven! I heare my Father.
Clarina.
Alas▪ we are undone; perhaps, he doubted
[Page 32]Of your intelligence, enter forthwith
Into this closet.
SCENA TERTIA.
Alphonso, Clarina, Isabella.
ALPHONSO.
Oh Daughter, daughter!
ISABELLA,
He appeareth furious. —
aside.
I read my sad misfortune in his eyes.
ALPHONSO
Can I live after such high injuries?
ISABELLA.
What is the Matter, Sir?
ALPHONSO.
How! demandest thou?
Dost thou not plainelie see in the excesse
Of my quick griefes, that I am burthered with
The greatest of misfortunes?
ISABELLA.
What misfortune.
Oh! Father?
ALPHONSO.
Isabella, Isabella,
I must no more be called by that name.
ISABELLA.
I feign'd in vaine, tis best to confesse all.
ALPHONSO.
O fatall chang, Heaven, who could'er have thought it?
ISABELLA.
Sir, I beseech you, heare me
ALPHONSO.
What would'st thou
[Page 33]That I should heare, I know now but to well
What that love costeth me which taketh pleasure
In blood and teares, and hideth deadlie poisons,
When it shewes flowers.
Isabella.
I confesse —
Alphonso.
Oh how often.
Our expectations are deceiv'd, in'wishing
Children, we wish troubles, and punishments.
Isab.
If his death
Alph.
Yes, his death is certaine,
Isabella.
Suffer
That by my teares —
Alphonso.
Thou sheddest them in vaine.
Isabella.
Father, revenge is easie.
Alphonso.
But alas?
What should I enterprise against the Duke?
Isabella.
The Duke? What say you?
Alphonso.
Art thou ignorant,
That my sonne by his order receiv'd death?
Isabella.
I know it not; oh miserable destinie?
Alphonso.
Valerio from him brought me the sad newes,
And would enforce me to agree with him,
That he in killing him did not unjustly:
Isabella.
[Page 34]What crueltie is this? wast not ynough,
Through an unjust and barbarous constraint,
To forbid you a just revenge, but even
To complaine of the injurie?
Alphonso.
True, Daughter;
To punish yet my sonne after his death,
They will I understand it, and not murmur:
It seemes they have a minde, that I should goe
To kisse the hand that murthets me, as being
Stained, and smoaking yet writh my sonnes blood.
Isabella.
But S [...]r, consider in this sad conjuncture,
That my deare Brothers body doth expect
Interment.
Alphonso.
Yes, I have tooke care for that,
By order from me it is to be brought
To this apartement.
SCENA QUINTA.
Licastes, Alpbonso, Isabella. Clarina.
Licastes.
THe death, Sir, of your sonne is but to certaine
W'ave brought his body into the next chāber.
Some little distance from this place we found it
Stript, and so much disfigured with wounds,
That we should not have judg'd it to be his,
If seeking carefully we had not found
His coate not farre of, and a little further
His hat [...] The thing which troubleth me most
In this misfortune is, that having made
A fruitles search all over for the rest
[Page 35]Of his habillements, I could not finde
Any one of them, and can not imagine
Who should have tane them thence.
Alphonso.
Vnhappie Sonne
Of an unfortunate Father!
Licastes.
Sir, you may
From hence see this sad object, if you please
To cause that curtaine to be drawn aside.
aside
Alphonso.
Draw it, Licastes, let me see my sorrow;
We would be private, everie one retire.
The curtaine is drawne, and he sees upon a bed a murthered body.
I cannot in this Lamentable object
Discerne one feature of my Sonne, and scarce
Will my confusion give me leave to know
Him whom I have begotten, lying thus
In such a mangled condition.
Sonne, if it may be lawfull in the sad
Estate wherein our miseries have put us
For me to use that name sometime so sweet,
I must then say unto thee, that this spectacle
Makes me to feel thy wounds more sensibly
Then thou thy selfe didst when thou didst receive them:
Thy miserable destinie and mine
Differs not much, the blood which thou shed'st is
The purest in my veines, the arme whose rigour
Hasted thy death, gave not the fatall stroak
Through thy heart, but it entered in my bowells:
And if we differ any thing in such
A miserable fortune, tis in this,
That I still feel the pressing evills, which thou
Sufferest no more, Sources of my afflictions,
[Page 36]Deepe wounds, which appeare now but bloody mouths,
Whose silent accents seeme here to solissit
My arme to a reveng, know that a subject
Houlds not his Soveraignes fate betwene his hāds:
In vaine ye aske reveng' gainst such a blood;
Alas here I can offer you no other,
But what my heart makes to flow from mine eyes.
Isabella.
The crueltie o'th' Duke, Sir, should be punish'd.
Alphonso.
He is my Prince, although in my concernement
A tyrant, subjects destinies depend
Vpon their Soveraignes, a crime becomes
Iust in their hands; and if at any time
Those earthlie Gods ought to be punished',
It must be by a thunder bolt from Heaven:
In this case I should make but vaine attempts.
If the Duke dye, shall my Sonne live againe?
But what chance brings Clarina here in such
Distracted haste?
SCENA QUINTA.
Clarina, Alpbonso, Isabella.
Clarina.
Oh Signeur, oh Madame! —
Alphonso.
VVhat ayles thee, art thou mad?
Clarina.
Oh, I have seene —
Alphonso.
what hast thou seene that troubleth thee so much?
Clarina.
I have seene, I have seene —
Alphonso.
[Page 37]VVhat hast thou seene?
Speake, I conjure thee.
Clarina.
Since then I must speake it,
I've seene a dead man walke.
Alphonso.
Th' ast lost thy reason.
Clarina.
Nothing's more true, that fearefull Fantasme followes
My steps, I heare him, he pursues me; save me.
Isabella.
It is my Brother —
Alphonso.
Straung! It is my Sonne.
SCENA SEXTA.
Alphonso, Fabritio, Isabella.
Alphonso.
Sonne, is my soule sure, or am I deceiv'd,
Is this but an illusion which I see
But a vaine object formed by my fancy?
If so, finish my life heere with my errour?
Mayst thou yet be i'th' number of the living?
Fabritio, ist thy body that I see
Or ist thy shadow? comest thou to fill me
With joy, or with affright? come satisfie me,
Let me embrace thee.
Fabritio.
I see the light, Sir, and I finde here charms,
Since you esteeme my life at such a rate
As to lament it lost; not but as injur'd
By love and fortune, they should not doe to me
A favour to deprive me of the light;
[Page 38]But though they should oblige me very much,
In the condition wherein my soule
Is now, to quench my feirce flame with my blood,
And though my blood thus shed would make my fortune,
More sweet, I would conserve it, since tis yours.
Alphonso.
How comes it that thou hast so strong a hatred
For life? thou canst not doubt Climenes love;
The passion of the Duke alarumes thee
Too much; if thou lou'st much, thou art no lesse
Belou'd.
Fabritio.
A faire appearance oftentimes
Beareth false wittnes, I assur'd my selfe
Too much of her fidelitie, and though
I could doubt the report my senses made me,
I have too sure a testimonie of her
Perfidiousnes, since her owne mouth confirm'd it:
She entertain'd in amourous discourse
My happie Rivall with so passionate
An air, that I forgate both my respect
Vnto the Duke, and the care of my life,
In uttering my despight; the Duke possess'd
Strongly with love and hate, gave expresse order
Vnto his Guards to kill me; but I knowing
That my defence then was unprofitable,
Vnder a dark porch sought my sanctuarie,
Whilst an unfortunate stranger walking that way
They took to apprehend me in the darke,
Was suddenlie environ'd with the Guards,
And peirced through with halbards. assoone as
Those murtherers were gone, to draw my life
Out of such hazards, and to make this errour
More probable, I took the bloodie cloaths
Of that deplorable body, and was readie
[Page 39]To leave it mine, having cast his into
The current of the river, when a noyse
Of voices crossing my designe, I was
Constrain'd to leave that body naked and
Without life, to come speedilie to you▪
And to advertise you of this event.
Alphonso.
I feare the issue of this blest succsse;
Know that the Duke boasts of thy death alreadie,
He thinkes it just, which maketh me to judge
That thy preserved life is still in danger;
If thou desirest to obey thy Father,
Stay not a minute here, but seek thy safety
In sudden absence.
Fabritio.
But What! must I leave
Climene?
Alphonso.
She hath left thee, her example
Shewes thee the way to infidelitie;
If to betray a person that doth love us
Be a base act, to love one that betrayes us,
Is no lesse weaknes.
Fabritio.
I am stil a Lovet,
Though an abused Lover, and she hath.
More beautie then injustice, her crime puts
No fearful object in her eyes and countenance.
Although she cease to love, she ceaseth not
To be belov'd, and my heart charm'd by her,
Deceives it selfe, if it thinks to be able
To hate her, though she hath betrayed it.
Alphonso.
I finde that absence is the onelie remedie
For this disease, tis fitt thy passion yeild
To my desires; fly through obedience,
[Page 40]Or through resentment, oh assure thy safety
By thy remove, tis that which I desire.
Fabritio.
And which I feare.
Alphonso.
That matters not.
Fabritio.
But Sir —
Alphonso.
But I command it thee: for feare to be
Perceiv'd, goe forth without attendance and
Without noyse unto Carlos house, and there
Passe the rest of the night; to morrow earlie
Before the day break, take the way to Florence,
VVhere I have many Friēds that will defend thee.
In the meane time I'le send thee by a friend
A horse and money for thy journey; haste.
Fabritio.
My Sister.
Alphonso.
Add not to my miserie
By sad regretts: be gone, be gone; adiew;
Let me embrace thee, I deprive my selfe
Of my most deare support, but though I lose thee,
Tis with intent to save thee.
— Exit Fabritio.
SCENA SEPTIMA.
ALPHONSO, ISABELLA.
Isabella.
By what crueltie
Banish you my deare Brother?
Alphonso.
Isabella,
[Page 41]Thou speakest like a Sister, and I act
As Father, it is farre more pleasing to me
To have an absent Sonne, then none at all:
I will deceive the Duke by taking of
His unjust pursuit gainst his life, when he
Shall fully understand his death: I will
To morrow that my house be all in mourning,
That this corps be interred for my Sonne;
And to the end that all Ferrara be
Deceived with the Duke, I'le honour it
VVith funerall pompe, this is a debt we owe.
Vnto a blood, whose losse hath conserv'd ours,
Although we had no furthet use of it.
Lastly —
SCENA OCTAVO.
Fabritio, Alphonso, Isabella.
Fabritio.
SIr —
Alphonso.
VVhat is it that troubles thee?
Fabritio.
I met the Duke, Sir, at our dore, he follow'd
A torch, which might, perhaps, discover me,
I heare noise, he pursues me, oh receive him,
Alphonso.
O duty too unjust! cruel constraint!
Goe quicklie with thy Sister Isabella
Into that closet.
Isabella.
He goes to Carlos house, what shall I doe?
Fabritio.
Come along with me, what should hinder you?
Isabella.
[Page 42]I feare you should be seene [...], and there fore would
That the light might be put out in this place.
Fabritio.
I contradict not, les us enter then.
SCENA NONA.
Carlos comming out of the closet.
Carlos.
They are both entered, I must quickly forth:
Fortune no longer seemeth to be contrarie
To my designes; the way is free; but what!
I heare the Fathers voice: oh how unhappie
Am I?
SCENA DECIMA.
The Duke, Valerio, Alphonso, Carlos, Guards.
Duke.
ALphonso, I am not deceiv'd,
Your sone is Living, I have seene him: having
Vnderstood, that Climene in a soowne
Fainted, being carefull of so faire a life,
And guided by my love, I went unto
Her house, where happilie I saw your sonne:
I [...]now that she adores him, and dare say
That her disease wil Vanish, if he Lives:
Lastly I wish it, and am come of purpose
To be informed cleerelie of this truth.
Alphonso shewing the Duke the body which is upon the bed.
Alphonso.
SIr, you may easilie be cleerd herin;
Behould my sonne, judge if his losse be certaine:
[Page 43]You fear'd him living, doe not feare him dead.
See, his congealed blood smoaks at your presence?
Duke.
It is too much I'm fullie satisfied
That he is dead; but what did Carlos heere
Without light?
Carlos,
To secure my Friend, I must
Feign hand somlie —
aside,
Duke.
He seemes to be astonish'd.
Carlos.
Sir, tis not without cause that I am so.
For comming here to understand the newes
of my deare Friend Fabritios destinie,
Assoone as I entered that open chamber,
His Ghost appear'd before me in a posture
So dreadfull, that I tremble to thinke on't:
He had the figure of a fearefull Fantasme,
His bosom was opened with a large wound,
His colour pale, and all his body bloodie.
He came towards me with a staggering pace,
And darted forth a look though languishing
Yet feirce; a bleak, and black blood issued
Out of his mouth, and in his eyes grim death
Walked the round.
Duke.
I also saw just now
Fabritios shape, but much lesse horrible,
Me thought he was alive.
Carlos.
I dare engage
My credit, that your Highnesse saw his shadow
Aswell as I.
Duke.
[Page 44]Tis that which doth confound me.
I still held for a fable what the vulgar
Report, of vaine ghostes, and could not imagine
That a spirit once departed from a body,
Should leave the dead to come among the living,
Cease to be simple, and be visible,
Having no more a body. Notwithstanding
This successe startles me, I could not think it,
And now I cannot doubt it. But adiew,
I see your griefe encreaseth by my presence.
Alphonso.
Sir, I waite on you.
Duke.
I know what is a Farher, and that nature
VVill not allow him to pay homadges
To him that robbs him of a Sonne—
Exit Duke.
Alphonso.
How highly —
Am I indebled to you for this favour? -
To Carlos
Carlos.
It is not great; twere requisite Fabritio
Should instantlie betake him to my house,
From whence he may unseene make his escape,
I'le goe unto the Duke now, to confirme him
Yet stronger in his errour. —
Exit Carlos.
SCENA UNDECIMA.
Alfonso, Fabritio, Isabella.
Alphonso.
GOe, and chuse
Florence to morrow for retraite.
Fabritio.
[Page 45]Sir —
Alphonso.
Let me
Receive no more replyes, doe what I bid thee,
All my desires should be strong lawes to thee,
Adiew, let me give thee the last embrace.
Isabella.
Sir, notwithstanding all your care, I feare
My brother can't submit himselfe unto
This severe order; by his last discourse
I comprehended too well that he loves
Climene still after all her contempts,
And that his blinded soule is still resolv'd
To lose all, rather then to lose her sight.
Alphonso.
I will be satisfied heerin, and know
The meanes to doe it, faile not thou to morrow
Towards the evening to goe to Climene:
The evill, that hath surprised her, invites thee
Vnto this Duty; for my part, I wil
Make Carlos a vissit at that time:
If my sonne stayes, I doubt not but to finde him
In one or to ther house; but it is late,
Adiew, in humane Fortune give unto thee
As much rest, as I have unquietnes,
And trouble at my heart. —
Exit Alphonso.
Isabella.
Las! mine doth bleed
with double griefe▪ though the first wound be hid,
The End of the Second Act.
ACTVS TERTIVS,
SCENA PRIMA.
The Duke, Iacinta, in Climenes Garden.
Iacinta.
THis is the Garden, Sir, where presently
My mistresse comes to walke her melancholie:
The griefe she taketh for her Lovers losse,
And her decayed health distracts her judgment;
Although the danger of her maladie
Be great, she walkes, and would even fly herselfe.
Be you assur'd her griefes will suddenlie
Conduct her here to weep her sad misfortunes,
And you may see her without witnesses,
And without trouble, if your Highnes please
To fetch a turne or two in this close Alley.
Duke.
Thy care augments my trouble, not my hope;
I burne, and feare to see her equallie:
I burne to see her when I represent
Vnto my amourous soule a charming Image
With all its beauties, and I feare to see her,
When my sad fancie represents unto me
The rigour of those faire offended eyes:
Tis an undoubted truth, I feare to see
That faire afflicted one to reproach me
The evills wherin my flame hath plunged her,
To say that hatred is the onelie fruite
Of my addresses, and that with my Rivall
My spirit is destroy'd.
Iacinta.
Your Highnesse, Sir
Should be prepar'd against the bloody taunts
[Page 47]Of a beblubbered Mistresse: to speak truelie,
And not to flatter you, I cannot see
The least hope that she will be wrought to love you
By this sweet way you take; I should advise you
Vnto another course, make use of force,
Where kindnes cannot work; ravish a good,
Which is denyed to you; take her hence,
Who is so foolish and so rigourous,
And force her to be happie gainst her will.
Duke.
How, take her hence by force? oh no, I cannot
Consent unto it, force can never be
Compatible with love, I would be lov'd
Without constraint, and cherish'd with out feare,
So farre would her disdaine be by this meanes
From ceasing, that it would take deeper roote,
As having juster ground to propagate.
Iacinta.
Your reasons are not altogeither lawfull;
Our Sex, Sir, hath strang maximes, oftentimes
It feeles not what it doth expresse, and seldome
Loveth Deaths fatall wracks, after a fortune
Of such a nature, love in womans heart
Turnes unto griefe, and that griefe vanisheth:
Her oaths and cries are of no consequence,
Her passion dies, when th' object is no more.
Perhaps, Climene at this verie hower,
Feeles that ambition from loves ashes springs
Within her heart, and that she is prepar'd,
In spight of her just mourning to proferre
The glorious possessour of a throne
Before the sad inhabitant of a tomb
And, possibly, wearied with her affliction,
She would be forced to embrace your love.
Duke.
To take her hence, and force her unto marriage,
[Page 48]Are the last meanes which I will try; before
I use towards her the least violence▪
I'le see her.
Iacinta.
Sir, she comes there.
Duke.
How she studies,
And how her slow uncertaine pa [...]es speak
The violent troubles of her spirit, her palenes
Depaints her griefe.
Climene.
Leave me alone, and passe
Into that alley.
SCENA SECVNDA,
Climéné, Iacinta, The Duke.
Iacinta.
Madame, —
Climene.
Once againe
I say I will be private for a minute;
Retire, and leave me to my selfe.
Iacinta.
But if
The Duke. —
Climene.
Be gone, and speak no more of him,
His name is odious to me.
Duke.
How unfortunate
Am I?
Iacinta.
I tould you, sweetnes would doe nothing
Vpon that stubborne spirit.
Duke.
[Page 49]I will follow
Thy counsell, let us speedilie goe forth,
My presence would encrease her crueltie.
Iacinta.
For feare you should be seene, be pleas'd to stay
Till she goes in; till when I cannot hand sonelie
Draw you from hence; in the meane time your Highnes
May in those shadie walkes divert your sadnes.
SCENA TERTIA.
Climene alone.
Stanzas.
THou which they say canst with facilitie
Act what includes impossibilitie,
Blind Guide, false Child which canst have no pretence
At all unto the state of innocence,
Tyrant of hearts, Love, wich hast boasted still
That Death submitts unto thy power and will.
Make her to know that she muade [...] thy right
In robbing my Fabritio of the light
And cause him to returne againe, or give
Me passeport the Shades where he doth live.
The sweetest objects that now strike mine eyes,
Encrease the number of my miseries,
The Suune tells me Fabritio's but a shade,
The Lillies at his losse look black and fade,
Those Rose, Queen of the flowers, seemes to be
Stain'd with my Lovers blood, and neepes with me.
Deare Lover, thou sad object of my cries,
Whose image still dwells in my heart and eyes,
Rep [...]oach me not that I live yet to mourne,
After thy ashes sleep in their cold vrne,
Death without doubt ere now had joyned me
To thy sad shadovv, if I could agree
[Page 50]That thou shouldst dye within my heart, oh no
I cannot leave th'y adored Image goe.
Thy cruell Rivall when he murthered thee
In his conceit, mistook, and murthered me:
His furte was deceiv'd, not satisfied,
In cutting of thy dayes, Climene dyed,
The Duke betrayd his vowes, for I expire
In thy cold ashes, Thou liv [...]st in my fire.
Climene.
What's that I say, Thou livest in my fire,
Thy living Image is carv'd in my soule;
But those immortall characters, alas!
Which flatter me, are dead Fabritios.
Vnjust and rigourous fate, was't reasonable,
That death should sease him so neere marriage?
But why dispute I in such great misfortunes?
I'le suffer my sad sighes, fotbid my teares,
And to enuenome my affliction,
I'le cease complaint, nourish my sorrow, and
By prudent cares for feare to weaken it,
I'le strengthen it within, Ile signalize
My griefes by silence better then by speech.
When one hath lost all who complaines, receaves
A kinde of comfort, therefore I'le for beare;
Yes, my deare Lover, to deplore thy death
In stronger termes then plaints and exclamations
But what! I heare a fearfull noyse beneath me?
A noise under the Stage.
It seemeth that to joyne me to Fabritio
A sudden thunder doth prepare it selfe
To come forth from the center of the earth:
The noyse redoubleth, and renued stroaks
Makes me believe that underneath my feet
They dig graves, I perceive the flowers to fall
The plants to be unrooted, the most setled
And firmest oakes to tremble; it is time
[Page 51]To fly hence, but I cannot, feare for bids me;
Heaven! the disorder growes, and the earth cleaves
Fabritio comes forth thence, my strength failes here,
And I am almost dead with feare and weaknes.
SCENA QVARTA.
FABRITIO CLIMENE.
Fabritio comming out the Mine.
Fabritio.
THanks unto Carlos, and in spight of destinie,
I hope to see Climene in this garden
But to conceale the meanes on't I must cover
Most carefullie the opening of the Mine:
Those stones, and those greene boughs will make the hole
Invisible, I need but seek the ingratefull,
Before I vent my anger; I'le reproach her
With my pass [...]d services, with her inconstancie,
And her false oaths; for feare my death should give her,
Some satisfaction, and to th'end t'afflict her,
I will appeare unto her, and protest
That I will live yet to abhorre her; yonder
I see that faire Inconstant; but alas!
I see her pale, cold, and in dying posture;
At this sad object which confoundeth me.
A tender pittie doth succeed my passion;
And if this pittie caus'd by her misfortune,
Is not yet love, tis something, sure, that's neere it,
Climene thou faire object of the flame
which riseth up againe, when almost dead,
Cast yet a languishing look upon Fabritio;
For all thy anger and inconstancie,
I never sought any reveng gainst thee;
Returne, and if thou wilt not that I live,
At least with one sweet look honour my death:
I heare some comming, I must hide my selfe.
[Page 52]If I should goe into the Mine againe,
There's danger I might be surpris'd.
SCENA QUINTA.
The Duke, Climene.
Duke.
I have heard stroaks which troubled me much
The noise came from this side, let us advaunce
I see Climene, who sleepes; but alas,
Vnparalel'd misfortune! she is dead,
And underneath a thick vaile, her faire eyes
Are shut up never to be opened:
Tyrannick destinie, by what law is it
That such a rare and exquisite beautie hath
So tragicall a fate, and that the Star
Of my nativitie, which hath produc'd
My fires, findes in its morne eternall night?
But I am in an errour; Master peece
Of all perfection, fate is innocent,
And I alone am guiltie, tis this arme,
This barbarous arme that hath tane hence my Mistresse
In murthering my Rivall.
Climene.
Oh, alas!
Duke.
She breathes, she breaths, and openeth her eyes
Love, be propitious to me.
Climene.
Is it thee,
My deare Fabritio, Fantasme of my soule,
Sweet Shadow of my Lover? what wilt thou?
Duke.
Her griefe distracts her judgment.
Climene.
Commest thou to reproach me suddenlie,
That thou hadst lived, if thou had'st not seene me,
And that the fire sometime so faire, which kindled
[Page 53]Our hearts with mutuall love, serv'd but to light thee
To descend to the grave?
Duke.
You are mistaken,
Adoreable Climene.
Climene.
Tell me then
The cause that brings thee, Com'st thou to solissit
My heart and arme a while yet to deferre
My death, unto the end to revenge thine!
Wil thou that this hād plung'd in the Dukes blood
Make my destruction just, and thine reveng'd
Speak speak; he shall not long be in condition
To triumph in thy death, in the midst of
His Court, and in the eyes of all Ferrara,
I'le peirce the bosom of that barbarous Prince.
Duke.
My heart feares but the stroaks of your faire eyes,
Know me, and recollect your wandering senses
The excesse of your sorrow wrongs you much.
Climene.
Whom doe I see?
Duke.
A Prince that loveth you.
Climene.
What fatall accident, what cruell destinie
Presenteth me, in stead of my Lover,
His murtherer, Sir, you must pardon me
This langvage, as a person highly injur'd:
I can no mor respect you: is it possible,
You are not fullie satisfied yet
In barbarouslie depriving me of him,
I lov'd more then my selfe, but you must come
To robb me of his Shadow?
Duke,
This vaine shadow
You speake of, is but an illusion
[Page 54]Form'd by your feare and your affliction;
And when I've dissipated from your fancie
This fatall image, you will finde that I
Have more advauntaged, then injur'd you.
For dead Fabritio, please you to remember,
That twas your interest made me punish him;
The insolent discou [...]se which he held forth,
Carried me justlie to that violence:
If I had spar'd him, I had injur'd you,
And if I had done lesse, I had lesse lou'd.
Clim [...]ne.
By [...]his accompt then I'm indebted to you
For giving, me the greatest of misfortunes,
In killing even before mine eyes the object
Which I adore, without whom the faire light
Is odious to me; you are much deceav'd
In your pretentions, you have gained nothing
In ruining a Rivall, and the art
Whicch you use to asperse his reputation,
Can't hinder him to live with in my soule:
Though this death which I feel livelie with in me
Had not express'd so much hate and contempt
As you shew love and tendernes, I should
Have loved him so much as I hate you.
Duke.
I condemne not your just transports, but beare them,
He was your Lover, though he was my Rivall;
And I repent my rage in that I wrong'd
Your charming Image, printed in his soule:
I know that Rivall, which was odious to me,
Pleased your faire eyes more then I, his merit
Was that which onelie rendered him guiltie:
I hated him for being too amiable;
But in that hate, I fully did expresse
My love to you in offering you a heart,
[Page 55]And with that heart a crowne. But I offend you,
Your looks speak your disdaine. not to provoke you,
I leave you, and hope yet, that you will one day
Have lesse aversion for me.
Climene.
Time can never
Cure my disease, death onelie is its terme.
SCENA SEXTA.
Iacinta, Fabritio, Climene.
Fabritio.
I will approach, I see the Duke retire,
My trouble is pass'd; and Climene lives;
But, heaven: who cometh here againe to crosse me?
Iacinta to Climene.
Iacinta.
The Funerall is comming.
Climene.
What, Fabritio's?
Fabritio.
It is Iacinta, I need not for her
Keep a loofe of. —
aside.
Iacinta.
Yes Madame, you may see
The coffin which encloseth your dead Lover
From your Balcony at this very instant:
His Father, who intends to celebrate
His mourning, honoureth Fabritios death
With funerall pompe, and whilst they carrie him
Vnto the Temple, you may, if you please,
See that unfortunate body passe.
Climene.
I will so,
It is my last desire,
[Page 56]Fabritio, discovering himselfe.
Fabritio.
Enjoy it, Madame,
Behould heere the unfortunate Fabritio.
Iacinta
Heaven! where shall I fly safely from this Fantasme.
I dare not stay.
— Iacinta flyes away.
Climene.
What! will Iacinta leave me;
Iacinta.
I have no other Mistresse now but feare.
Fabritin houlding Climene.
Fabritio.
False and ingratefull Beautie, doe you fly me?
This makes your lightnes. To appeare too much:
If any justice yet raignes in your soule,
After you have betray'd me, give me leave
To complaine my misfortune.
Climene.
I betray you?
What doe I heare, Heavens! how astonish'd am I
At this so strang event? if I may heere
Believe mine eyes, it is the living portrait
Of my Fabritio, but if I believe
His voice, it is but a deceitfull Fantasme
Of such a faitfull Lover:
Fabritio.
I am that verie Lover, who against
Your will could not, in losing all his hope,
Lose his life too; yes, I live yet, Ingratefull,
And feare I live for you still in despight
Of my just anger, I know not what power
Opposeth it. in steed of murmurring,
I sigh, and all the heat that rests with me
Resembles anger lesse then love.
Climene.
[Page 57]Now I
Begin againe to know Fabritio;
His heart in spight of him doth secretlie
Render me justice; and when the false mouth
Condemnes me, it seemes resolute in thought
That I am faithfull.
Fabritio.
Faithfull? oh it is
Vnto the D [...]ke that this speech is addressd
He onelie is to hope for all your love.
Climen [...].
Canst thou impute those base thoughts un [...]o me?
Fabritio.
They are truths, if I may believe your oathes;
I should doubt yet of this extreem misfortune,
If I had understood it from the mouth
Of any other but your selfe.
Climene.
An evill
When it is knowne, is easie to be cur'd;
I know thy errour, cease to be abus'd;
If the last fatall evening I express'd
[...]ind words unto the Duke, I did believe
That I discours'd to thee, and so upon
That faith all that I said to him, was wholie
Intended unto thee [...], thy onelie Image,
Which can possesse my heart, my memorie,
And all my senses with so much renowne,
Was onelie guiltie in that fatall moment,
If but a little blindnes may be said
To be a crime in Love.
Fabritio.
Vnto a Lover,
Whose soule resignes it selfe unto suspitions,
Any excuse is good ynough, and passeth,
[Page 58]A lye that pleaseth deceives plea [...]antlie,
And everie thing is easilie believ'd,
Which is desir'd; though all thy reasons were
As false as faire, so sweet it would be to me
To see my f [...]ares to end, and in my fancie
To flatter the affliction which thou
Might'st cause me, that thou wouldst oblige me stronglie
To make me yeild to be abus'd.
Climene.
Let thy heart be
Free from those Low suspitions; if thou wilt
Absent thee, I am readie heere to follow thee;
I'le manesest unto thee everie where
The cle [...]renes of my faith, be it to live,
Or dye with thee, let Heaven blesse, or deceive
Our expectations, I'le live satisfied,
Or dye content.
Fabritio.
What owe I —
Climene.
Thou ow'st nothing;
Nothing of thanks, in following thy desires,
I follow my owne sentiments; but how
Wer't thou secur'd?
Fabritio.
Fortune did favour me,
A straunger passing that night perished
Instead of me, and this Mine gives me meanes
From Carlos house to enter into thine.
Climene.
Thou mayst a while heere entertaine thy thoughts
In the meane I'le goe to fetch my Iewells:
Passe underneath this arbor, I believe
I heare a noyse; assoone as it is night,
I'le come to thee againe.
SCENA SEPTIMA.
Iacinta, Fabritio.
Fabritio.
IF I am not deceiv'd, heere comes Iacinta,
Climene trusts her with her neerest secrets:
Forrune, it seemes, to day in everie point
Will be sweet to me, if I can oblige her
To goe away with us.
Iacinta.
Scarce freed yet
From my first feare, I tremblinglie returne
Vnto Climenes house: Fabritio
Was murthered through my meanes, and without doubt
He cometh to revenge himselfe upon me
From th' other world: my ruine were inevitable
If I should meet that fearefull Ghost againe.
Fabritio.
Stay. —
Iacinta.
Tis the Spirit, good God, I dye with feare!
Oh Genrle Fantasme, have compassion of me;
I doe confesse my fault, and promise faithfullie
N'er to betray you, nor my Mistresse more.
Fabritio.
Strang! but I must know more. Disguise me nothing,
If thou dost —
Iacinta.
Touch me not then, I beseech you,
And I will tell you all: tis true, [...] alwaies
Indeavoured [...]o hurt you, that I studyed
To serve the Duke in his amours against you,
And that indead I was cause of your death.
Fabritio.
[Page 60]Pernstious spirit. —
Iacinta
Enter not into furie,
This is not all yet, lend your eare, I pray you,
I had forgot to tell you that the Duke.
By my advise this day hath fix'd upon
Climenes rape, and that this verie evening
He will attempt this unjust enterprise,
Fabritio.
Horrid perfidiousnes!
Iacinta.
I have tould all my faults, now may it please you
That I leave you in peace: for know that nothing
Is so unpleasant to me as discourse
With people of another World. If you
Were not dead, you would be so good unto me,
To grant me pardon upon my repentance.
Fabritio.
It would not suite well with a generous spirit
To punish a weake woman. Goe. —
Iacinta.
Mon [...]ieur Fantasme,
God will receive your soule.
— Exit Iacinta.
Fabritio.
The Duke this night
Intends, it seemes, [...]o take away Climene,
Heaven, must my hope be yet againe destroy'd?
But my heart leaves it selfe to be assaulted
With a vaine feare, seeing I am belov'd,
What should I doubt; nothing is strong ynough
To disunite two hearts whieh love hath joyn'd,
This God doth miracles for those that be
His faithfull Votaries, and such are we.
The End of the third Act.
ACTVS QVARTVS.
SCENA PRIMA.
Fabritio,
alone.
BEhould the hower, wherein I hope to see
The Beautie which my soule loves and adores;
The Sunne alreadie having run his course,
Darteth no more heere but a feeble light:
With his last rayes he now adornes the West
He setts with glorie, shines when he is lost
And the fair remnants of his dying brightnes
Maketh his fall and losse illustrious,
Pardon, thou glorious Star, whose splendour hurts m [...],
If my hope comes, when thy light vanisheth:
Ingenious Love, to hurt me more, assembles
That masse of Instre which so charmeth me
In faire Climenes eyes, and presentlie
Her looks wil give me brightnes which surpasseth
That which thou takest from me: But she stayes,
Heaven. she neglects me, she appeareth not:
The Moone is well advaunc'd; and all my hope
Dyes with the day; this long delay denotes
A fault of love: I heare one walk, and if
My eyes are faithfull witnesses, I see
This miracle of Faire ones come at last.
SCENA SECUNDA.
Climene, Fabritio.
Climene.
FAbritie —
Fabritio.
Heere, faire subject of my flame.
Here's he, who is as [...]aithfull as he's happie.
Climene.
[Page 62]I did not think to have bene so long absent.
I feare that I have put thee to some trouble.
Fabritio.
Believe, indead, that to Fabritio
The least remove of thy faire eyes is grievous.
I did expect thee sooner, and to speak
The truth resolved to complaine unto thee,
Vpon this point; but to forget it quite,
It is sufficient that I see thee now;
I have no power to complaine before thee,
The present pleasure flattering my thought,
Takes wholie from me the remembrance
Of my pass'd trouble.
Climene.
Since love forceth thee
Not to accuse me, the same passion
Obligeth me too to excuse my selfe.
It was not the care of these Diamonds
Wherewith I'm loaden, which caused my stay,
It onelie was the care to take a time
Proper for our departure.
Fabritio.
Let's referre
The prosecution of this discourse
Vnto another time, and think we now
To finish our designes, and t'haste our flight;
I feare the stroaks yet of injurious chaunce,
She should be [...]rusted least, when she smiles most.
Climene
Let's haste, I willinglie consent unto it,
I feare least that torch should discover thee,
Oh hide thee!
Fabritio.
I will dye rather then hide me;
An outrage is intended to thy person.
I must prevent it, being advertised
[Page 63]That the Dukes readie by a barbarous order
To carrie thee away by violence.
SCENA TERTIA.
The Duke, Valerio, Climene, Fabritio, Guards.
Valerio.
SHe must be heere
Duke.
I'le draw aside a little,
But so, that I'le heare all: Goe, speake from me.
Fabritio.
What suffer thee to be tane hence by force,
And in my presence?
Climene.
No, if any Violence
Be offered, step forth unto my ayd,
In the meane time hide thee, and make me not
To feare for any but my selfe; Valerio,
What seek you heere at such an hower as this?
Valerio.
I could not wish to meet a better object
Then your faire selfe, a coach neere hand attends you,
I must conduct you there, having for it
An expresse order.
Climene
How! from whom have you
This order?
Valerio.
Madame, from the Duke my Master,
Whom everie one is bound here to acknowledge
For Soveraigne.
Climene.
Let him be n'er so Soveraigne,
Yet he must know that the free soule of Climene
[Page 64]Is not within his power; my heart depends
Vpon another, and say what he will,
That is no lawfull subject to his Empire.
Valerio.
Madam, I'm sorrie — but I must obey,
Climene.
What! thinketh he to make himselfe belov'd.
As one makes himselfe hated▪ Losing libertie?
Believeth he that I should be so simple
To take so many marks of hatred for
Effects of love? what from his enmitie
Might I not feare, if when he loveth me,
He seeks to persecute me?
Valerio.
I am forc'd
Asmuch as you are, but it is in vaine
For you to give your selfe o'r to complaints,
Follow me quicklie where I goe. —
Duke.
Stay, stay;
Her beautie will not suffer any outrage
To be done to her person, in my presence,
Or rather I have too much passion
To suffer that she should be injured.
Tis true that troubled much, and desperate
At your contempt I was prepar'd to take you
Away by force, I did expect the issue,
And will confesse, Madame, that in my soule
Love vanquished respect; but presentlie
At your first words love vanquish'd at its turne,
Yeilded unto respect: cease, cease to feare,
Thou charming wonder, the heate of that love
Soomewhat too violent: should your heart be
Hard as a rock, I onelie would imploy
Respect to touch it, there's more passion in me
Then hate in you: in all the places where
[Page 65]I reigne, you shall be Souveraigne, and I shall
Esteeme me happie, not to give you lawes,
But to take them of you.
Climene.
I should give thanks
Vnto the Duke for such a declaration
If I could flatter heere Fabritios enemie.
Duke.
Although his losse hath reason to oblige me,
Since it afflicts you, it afflicteth me;
But there runnes a report upon this point
which terrifies me, tis that to your eyes
His Fantasme doth appeare.
Climene.
There's nothing false
In this report, Fabritio since his death
Appear'd before mine eyes.
Duke.
To dissipate
Obnoxious feares which might cause evill visions
Within your fancie, some of my attendance
Shall presentlie have order not to leave you,
Climene.
Oh! Sir, this is not it which I demaund.
Duke.
Tis the least duty I must render you:
Suffer them for to guard you.
Climene.
Sir, it needs not.
Duke.
Your quietnes concernes me, and I must
Take care of it.
Climene.
So farre you would be from obliging me
By this designe, that you would hurt me rather;
Of this care therefore I dispense your Highnes.
Duke.
[Page 66]To condescend to your desires heerein,
Were to betray you, the sad vision
Of a dead person doth encrease your griefes.
Permit —
Climene.
No, Sir, command them not to follow;
The vision doth please me, and I feare
To be deprived of its companie.
Duke.
This Spirit will alwaies distract your reason,
As long as you stay in the house alone.
Climene.
If but to chaung house will give you content,
I'le satisfie you, Carlos is my neighbour,
I will retire to him.
Duke.
If you fix there,
I contradict it not, his mother is
A verie prudent Woman, and her counsells
Will be a great helpe to your timourous spirits,
Permit me to conduct you to her house.
Ciimene.
This prayer is a command, Sir.
I cannot
Refuse to follow, him, especiallie
Seeing Fabritio likewyse hath designe
Softly.
To goe there.
Fabritio.
What discourse i'th' name of wonder
Might she have all this while there; but good God [...]
The Duke drawes her away, I'le succour her.
Duke.
This Fantasm's nothing elce but the effect
Of a sad thought, the senses are all hurt,
when the soule's troubled.
Fabritio.
[Page 67]I'le put out the light.
Duke.
Lastly I' promise you that there's no Fantasme,
Nor ever was; but what is that I see?
O prodegie! o Heaven! how am I troubled?
Fabritio.
It is Fabritio, who is come to take
Climene from you.
Climene.
O Fabritio,
Vnto what danger comes thou to expose thee?
— aside.
Fabritio.
Climene, save thy selfe, or leave me perish.
Climene.
My life's in danger, when thou hazardest
Thy selfe. I doe withdraw now, follow me.
Duke.
Advance, Guards, I'le be cleered in this point,
Leave me not, I comand yee.
Fabritio.
She is gone,
I'le follow her.
Valerio.
Sir doubt not on't, it is
Fabrotio's shadow.
Duke.
No matter, I'le be satisfied therein.
SCENA QUARTA.
Carlos, Valerio, the Duke, attendance.
Carlos comming out of the Mine.
Carlos.
I'le goe to ayd my friend, this noyse doth make me
To judge that his life runnes some danger here.
Valerio.
[Page 68]It is impossible to take a Fantasme;
Yet he is taken, and it is a sensible,
And solid body.
Duke.
Traitor, and the greatest
Of all my enemies.
Carlos.
Oh Sir! what fault
Hath Carlos committed? never had you
A subject yet more faithfull.
Duke.
What is that?
Tis Carlos, strange! this is a new surprise:
Heere all my arguments are vaine. Come you,
Carlos, to take Climene from my hands?
Carlos.
I, Sir? by no meanes; the noise which I heard
Drew me unto this place to know the cause on't.
Duke.
Who came into this garden then to stop me?
Carlos.
It was Fabritios shadow, can you doubt ont?
We can give you a certaine testimonie
Thereof, as knowing well his voice and visage.
Duke.
I observ'd them my selfe verie distinctlie.
Carlos.
Assure yee, Sir, it was Fabritios shadow.
Duke.
I'm stranglie troubled at this prodegie;
Climene was persuaded by my reasons
To quit this house, and I was bringing her
Vnto thyne, when that spirit came and parted us,
So that we have lost each other in the darke.
Carlos.
[Page 69]This successe, Sir, strikes me with terrour too.
Duke.
Carlos, we must finde out this charming Beautie,
And for her safetie bting her home to thee:
Seek thou of that side, the rest follow.
Carlos.
Oh heaven! we are undone, the plotts discover'd:
If the Duke finde Fabritio, his ruine
Is certaine, but if in spight of the night
I'm not abus'd, I see a woman comming
Towards me.
SCENA QUINTA.
Carlos, Climene.
Climene.
FAbritio, is it thee?
Carlos.
No.
Climene.
Oh, my griefe!
Carlos.
Although it be not he, at least it is
His second selfe, tis Carlos. —
Climene.
Oh! deare Sir,
How mise [...]able am I?
Carlos.
I know, Madame,
All your misfortune, having understood it.
From the Dukes mouth, who verie much in passiō,
Seeketh you with no ordinarie care.
Climene.
Fabritio's heere about, if he should be
Vnfortunatelie found, it were impossible
To save him afterward; Sir, if you love him,
[Page 70]Divert his daunger, overtake the Duke;
To draw him hence, tell him that I am readie
To come forth of this fatall place, and that
I've promised to stay here till you come,
To goo with you unto your house.
Carlos.
I fly;
In the meane time, find, if you can your Lover,
And tell him what hath happened, above all
faile not to be here presentlie, your selfe.
Climene.
Fortune; I feare is not propitious
Ynough unto me, to permit me now
To finde Fabritio, with too much heat
Her anger doth pursue me, to consent
That I shall have this happines, notwithstanding
I heare a noise, perhaps Love favorable
To my chast flames, guideth my Lover here:
But what, they are two women; they have seene me,
Or I am much deceiv'd, I must begone
To seek Fabritio, and to shun their presence.
Exit Climene.
SCENA SEXTA
Iacinta, Isabella.
Iacinta.
IT is my Mistresse, Madame, approach bouldly▪
And give me leave to goe immediatelie
Into the house, my conduct, and my cares
A [...]e here superfluous.
Isabella.
Stay, she goes away,
And I see her no more, come, let us follow.
Iacinta.
[Page 71]Good God! if I should meet the spirit againe
Which I fo dread?
Isabella.
Thou knowest all these turnings,
And thou canst guide me; Goe before.
Ianinta.
Who, I? defend me, God, from such a rudenes,
I know my duty well, though a grosse Girle,
Madame, you are to goe first, I'm to waite you
Oh if the spirit should come to punish me
For my late treason!
— softly
Isabella.
But thou tremblest.
Iacinta.
Alas! there's reason for it.
Isabella.
Stay here then,
I'le follow her without thee, ho, Climene!
Iacinta.
She leaveth me alone, oh, I am lost!
Madame, where runne you?
Isabella.
Doe not stay my stepps.
Iacinta.
Should you be n'er so angry, by your favour,
You shall not follow her.
Isabella.
Thy importunitie
Is really, extreme, why dost thou stop me?
Iacinta.
Because I love you, you would be in danger,
Should you goe on, your safetie's deare unto me,
And I'le take care on't.
Isabella.
Leave me.
Iacinta.
[Page 72]No, I must not:
I'le tell you a strang thing a fearefull Spiritt
Haunteth those places,
Isabella
Ist a waggish Spirit?
Hobgoblin, or a Robin-Good follow?
Iacinta.
No, he's not pleasant, rather on the contrarie,
It is an evill, and a mischievous spirit.
Isabella.
Who tould it thee?
Iacinta.
Mine eyes, which did not lye.
And I sweare to you that I've twenty times
Seen it in severall figures, sometimes like
A man, and sometimes like a ravenors beast,
And still at everie bout mischievouslie
Readie to break my neck.
Isabella.
Climene then
Is not in safetie here.
Iacinta.
I know not that;
But I believe there is a league betweene them
They agree verie well: But see the spirit
In forme now of a Giant; Heaven protect me.
SCENA SEPTIMA.
Fabritio, Iacinta, Isabella.
Fabritio.
IT is Iacinta, and Climene is
Without doubt with het.
Iacinta.
It approacheth to us,
Oh let us fly, tis death to meete with it.
Isabella.
It stopps at me, o Heaven, what feare have I?
Fabritio.
Climene, stay, and heare me, I'm Fabritio.
Isabella.
It is my brother, strang surprise! I wil
Speak soft and conterfeit my voice to finde
What his designe is,
— aside.
Fabritio.
The injurious Duke,
Frō whom my cares would take thee, seeketh thee
Without doubt at this instant, let us lose
No time to shun his violence, but haste we
To Carlos house: besides, I feare my sister.
For she at home this evening said unto me.
That she would come to vissit thee: if she
Should see me, presentlie my Father, who
Thinks me alreadie farre of from this place,
Will understand the contrarie. This is not
To detract from my Sister, she is good.
And verie innocent, but her fault is
She cannot hould her peace.
Isabella.
Continue, Brother,
I'm much oblig'd unto you, pray, proceed.
Fabritio.
[Page 74]Misfortune! tis my Sister Isabella.
Isabella.
Pursue, good Brother.
Fabritio.
Las! I've said too much,
Excuse the feares and weaknes of a Lover▪
If thy heart felt such seisures thou shouldst know
That the God, who is President of love,
Is but a timourous child, and trembles alwaies:
Isabella
I doe confesse, that I am ignorant
In maximes of this nature, and indead
Too innocent to understand them well:
Concerning your aboad, which I have learn'd
With some regrett, for being knowne to me
T'is not lesse secret: I will make appeare
By silence and discretion, that I am
A better Sister to you then you are a
Brother to me.
Fabritio.
Oh! Sister, what sweet sentiments have you?
How shall I merit them?
Isabella.
I heare some body,
Brother, let us withdraw.
Fabritio.
I'le take your counsell; goe forth of this dwelling
To Carlos house, I'le follow you immediatelie.
SCENA OCTAVA.
The Duke, Carlos, Isabella, attendance.
Carlos.
YOu see Climene stayes heere, as I said.
Duke.
[Page 75]Conduct her! tis ynough, Im satisfi'd,
And will goe forth content.
Carlos.
Madame, tis Carlos,
Follow me without feare, speake soft —
Isabella
Tis Carlos,
I'le follow him without constraint.
— aside.
Duke.
Guards, waite upon Climene for this night,
My eyes must be deprived of the happines
To see her, my love urgeth me in vaine
To follow her, defer we till to morro [...]
To render her a vissit, the good which
I expect thence would be too dearelie bought
If it should cost a trouble to Climene.
Depart we, and lets flatter us with hope
That we through perseverance shall o'rcome,
And that there is no heart so hard by charme,
Which those fires in my bosom cannot warme.
SCENA NONA.
Climene, Fabritio, The Duke.
Climene.
FAbritio.
Fabritio.
My Climene.
Duke.
Heaven! what heare I?
My judgment is confounded heere; Climene
Is gone with Carlos, yet some secret charme
Which I can't comprehend, houldeth her heere
In conference with the shadow of the dead.
Climene.
[Page 76]Everie one is retir'd we are alone,
The Duke is also gone out of the garden:
Let's finish the designe we have in hand,
Le [...]'s presse it on, and fly we without feare
That Tyrants love, for whom I've so much horrour
Duke.
In what a hideous gulfe of black despaire
Am I plunged by this prodegy? ist a truth,
Or ist a dreame?
Fabritio.
Haste we, but I'm afrayd
That in the dark we shall not finde the Mine.
Climene.
No matter we caan goe out of the garden
Another way, the key of the back dore
Which I have heere about me privately,
Will give us passage forth to Carlos house,
Where 'gainst the light returnes, I will be readie
T'embrace thy fortune, and to follow thee,
Goe where thou wilt.
Fabritio.
By what expressions. —
Climene,
Tis ynough, make me no reply, but follow▪
We lose time,
Duke.
There's no doubt of it, tis certaine,
Fabritio either dead or living steale
Away Climene; ha! I cannot suffer,
This outrage in my sight: come, I'm resolv'd
To lose my selfe, or reskue her; o Heavens!
The Duke running to succour Climene, falles into the Mine.
The End of the fourth Act.
ACTVS QVINTVS.
SCENA PRIMA.
Carlos, Isabella.
In a hall of Carlos house.
Carlos.
WHom see I here? misfortune! oh unluckie
Encounter! but, perhaps, I am deceiv'd,
Is it you, Isabella?
Isabella.
Strang? what heare I?
Ist possible that Carlos should not know me?
Are all my features suddenlie defaced?
No, they remaine yet, onelie I have cause
To thinke a hat they are raz'd out of thy memorie
Carlos.
Oh, Madame, this suspition is unjust,
I will upon this point tell you the truth
With all sinceritie.
Isabella.
Pray, what sinceritie
Can one expect from you?
Carlos.
Condemne me not
Before you heare me: I had a designe
Which prospered not, my intent was to bring
Another woman here, and I confesse
That I am sorrie now to see you Madame,
In her place, your faire presence is indead
A trouble at this time. But —
Isabella.
It sufficeth,
Ingratefull, thy crime is acknowledged,
And more sincerely then I could have thought.
Carlos.
Suffer me to expresse my self [...]
Isabella.
[Page 78]It needs not,
What explication can be more cleer?
Carlos.
Heare what remaines.
Isabella.
No, I will heare no more,
All thy disguisements are superfluous.
Carlos.
But know —
Isabella.
What should I know more? hast thou not
Tould me that thy soule's fleeting, thou intende'st
To bring another Woman here, thou wilt
That I believe it, and I doe believe it.
Carlos.
I have not. —
Isabella.
True, thou hast not any thing
For me but coldnes, and presumption;
To see me in her place, thou sayst, th'art sorrie,
And with an unjust passion thy salfe spirit
Carried away, goes from inconstancie
To incivilitie.
Carlos.
Give me leave to speake.
Isabella.
What canst thou say unto me?
That thou acknowledgest the Empire of
A Worthier object, that in vaine thy heart
Hath stood against her charmes, and that to gaine thee
I have too little beautie?
Carlos.
Oh deceive not
[Page 79]Your selfe with so much art, and I beseech you
Be lesse unjust to my poore heart that loves you.
Isabella.
In losing such a heart as thine, I shall
Lose little, it is faith [...]es, base, and treacherous,
And I pretend not any thing unto it;
Adiew.
Carlos
What without hearing me, oh stay,
I doe beseech you, stay.
Isabella.
My presence here
Doth trouble you.
Carlos.
It is a reall truth.
Isabella.
A reall truth,
Ingratefull?
Carlos.
You shall not goe forth before
Y'ave heard me, suffer me upon this point
T'expresse my thought.
Isabella.
I should againe be troubled
With thy discourse.
Carlos.
What I shall say unto you
Can easilie be verified.
Isabella.
No, no,
I forbid thee to justifie thy selfe.
Carlos.
[Page 80]For the last time yet give me leave to say▪
That it is you alone whom I adore,
That I am wholy yours.
Isabella.
Well, let me see then,
If I have any power yet in thy soul.
Carlos
Madame, commaund, you shall be satisfied.
Isabella.
Say nothing more then to excuse thy selfe,
And leave me to depart. this I command,
Obey me in this point.
Carlos.
For such a perfect Lover as I am,
It is a crime t'obey too readilie.
Isabella
No, no, I have some power upon thy spirit,
Shew thy respect by thy obedience,
Carlos.
Love by respect is verie ill express [...]d,
Who can obey well, knoweth not [...]o love,
This favourable councell, cruell Beautie,
Was given to Carlos.
Isabella.
Yes to Carlos faithfull▪
But this fatall advise, whereof thou dost
Presume so much, was never given vnto
Carlos inconstant,
Carlos.
Madame, what's my crime?
Isabella.
Ingratefull, I will tell it thee, tis true
I had for thee something about my heart
That savoured of tendernes and that
I know not what began to differ little
[Page 81]From the toy called Love; at last I was
Tainted with that disease, when for my punishmēt
I knew my love produ [...]ed but thy hate;
True, thou feel'st it no more, now that thou seest
That I am touch'd; I become trouble some
To him that's deare to me; now that my flame
Appeares, thine is consumed, and beginning
To love, I cease to be belov'd. Belov'd?
what have I said'? I learne by the effects,
That thou feignest alwaies, and did'st never love me
What canst thou answeare to excuse thy selfe.
So just a reproach cannot but confound thee;
Thou striv'st not more to justifie thy selfe,
Thy silence speaks thee guilty and confounded.
Carlos.
This trouble which appeareth in my countenance
Proceeds from your injustice, not my crime.
Isabella.
What have I said here which thou canst deny?
Defend thy selfe.
Carlos.
You have forbidden me
To justifie my selfe. I feare you would be
Offended still with my discourse.
Isabella.
No, no
Speak, Carlos, now my anger's vanished;
Although thou shouldst be false, and prove i [...].
In such a high degree as to betray me,
I might cōplaine thereof, but could not hate thee constant
And whatsoever change thy heart should make.
I should excuse thee if thou didst desire it.
Carlos.
Vpon your faire hands for this sweet expression,
Let me imprint my joy, and my resentment.
He kisseth her hand.
SCENA SECUNDA.
Alphonso, Isabella, Carloo.
Alphonso.
WHat doe I see?
Carlos.
But Madame, your suspitions
Injute my love extremelie.
Isabella.
My suspitions
Give Carlos intimation that I love him.
Alphonso.
You love him?
Isabella.
Heaven! what heare I?
Carlos.
O hard Fortune!
Isabella.
I must dispose my selfe to dye, he'll kill me
—aside
Father.
Alphonso.
Vnworthy object of my anger
Iustly provoked, I'm thy enemie,
Call me no more thy Father: how! presum'st tho [...]
T'offend me in so high degree as thus
Against the rules of reason and of honour
To come to Carlos at his house by night,
And in despising the Religious Cloyster
Whereto I've destin'd thee, to give thy selfe
Over to base amours?
Isabella.
I doe beseech you,
Heare me, graunt me that savour, will you, Sir
Refuse me?
Alphonso.
[Page 83]Yes, everie thing except death.
Carlos.
Heare equitie oppressed by my mouth,
If her flame be a crime, I [...]m guilty onelie;
Yes if it be a fault, daigne to remember,
That I am the cause on't, and whom you ought
Onelie to punish, be more just without
Being more gentle, save the innocent.
And destroy the offender.
Isabella.
No, against me
Bend all your furie, if it be a crime
To love, it is a vertue [...]o be loved:
The tendernes which I resent for Carlos
Denotes his merit, and setts forth my weaknes:
And if my passion be worthy death,
Carlos is free, and I alone am guilty.
Alphonso.
Perfidious, thou shalt dye then.
Carlos
Oh, abandon
That thought.
Alphonso.
Then Carlos with my honour take
Away my life, that is the onely way
To make her crime safe; nothing but my death
Can stop her punishment.
Carlos.
Feare nothing from me,
I have respect for you, and since I could not
Appease your anger, I oppose no further
But rather presse you now that Isabella
May perish
Isabella
How▪ doe you presse my destruction?
Oh now's the fatall moment, wherein I
[Page 84]Have just cause to complaine of destinie
My heart is peirc'd with griefe to see you here
With such injustice to become my judge,
And not my complice. I was well resolv'd,
Carlos, to dye, and quarrell'd not with fate,
So long as I thought to expire for thee;
But I believed not in this adventure
That Love aswell as Nature would betray me,
And that I should at last goe to the grave
Thus by a Fathers stroak, and Lovers sentence.
Carlo [...].
Madame. I've sayd but what I should have sayd:
Once more I doe repeate it, since your daughter
Must dye, Sir, and I cannot hinder it,
Content your selfe to strike, but pray mistake not
The bosome, heere direct your stroaks, tis heere
That Isabella's lodg'd, heere she is Mistresse,
Heere she is criminall, heere you must assault her
To punish her, and in peircing my heart,
You cannot misse her.
Isabella.
Oh, believe him not;
Turne your armes here.
Alphonso aside.
Alphonso.
Readie to shed my blood,
I feel my teares flow, and my choler's cold:
I onelie by a sudden strange effect
Am vanquish'd in the fight, let us feigne yet,
Carlos, your cunning for a little time
Retards her Punishment, but fatisfy me
Vpon a thing that brought me heere, and wich
Doth trouble me extreemely tell me truelie,
Is my Sonne here, or no; if he be here,
His death is but too [...]ertaine.
Carlos.
I assure you,
[Page 85]He is not here, Sir.
Alphonso.
Since you doe assure me,
I will not doubt it.
SCENA TERTIA.
Fabritio, Alphonso, Climene, Carlos, Isabella.
Fabritio.
WE are free at last
From the Dukes hands.
Alphonso.
O Heaven! ist possible?
Fabritio yet present him to mine eyes?
I gave, Sir, too much credit to your words.
— to Carlos,
Carlos.
He was not here, Sir, when I said them to you,
Alphonso.
Thou blinded Sonne, through what ingratitude
Build'st thou thy pleasures upon my disquiet?
VVhat hath made thee despise a Fathers Will,
whom thou know'st cherisheth thy life so much
And why in violating all the rights
Of nature, dost thou make so small accompt
Of the light which thou owest me? Ingratefull!
Fabritio.
The care, Sir, of my safetie trouble [...]h you
Too much, I doe not hate the light, but love it
Lesse then Climene.
Alphonso.
I commanded thee
To quit this residence [...]
Fabritio.
[Page 86]But I receiv'd
Another order.
Alphonso.
How! from whom?
Fabritio.
From Love.
Alphonso.
Love makes no lawes but for those that will take 'em;
And reason now forbiddeth thee to embrace it
Fabritio.
Oh reason, Sir, had left me, and I was
Too much enchained, to depart.
Alphonso.
Canst thou
Stay without shame, after an infidelitie?
Fabritio.
Climene is as constant as she's faire:
My spirit was struck with an injust suspition,
I'm disabused, and she's readie heere
To follow me.
Alphonso.
To follow thee?
Climene.
Yes Sir,
To follow him, I have engag'd my selfe;
Though his condition be chang'd, I am not.
Alphonso.
I alwaies doubted till this very moment.
Whether a woman could love constantly;
Bu [...] if your love hath any reason with it,
Haste you to goe out of his fatall c [...]ntry.
Fabritio.
There's nothing that shall stop my stepps to morrow
Sir, I sweare to you. —
Carlos.
[Page 87]Friend, thou shalt not sweare.
Fabritio.
If you believe it not, I doe assure you,
You are in an extreme errour; who can stay us?
Carlos.
Pehaps, It may be I.
Fabritio.
You?
Carlos.
Yes, I will
Tell you a sad adventure, which should be
Equallie grievous ro us both; Ciimene
Is by a fatall chaunce committed to
My guard, and I'm responsible for her.
I've the Dukes ordsr for it, and to add
To the misfortune, I thought to have taken
Climene, and I took your sister for her.
Isabella.
What! this was then the cause which troubled you
So much but now?
Carlos.
You have but little reason
To doubt of it; but understand my trouble
In this extremitie, if Climene flyes,
I shall be forc'd to expose Isabella
Instead of her to the Dukes passions:
I love her, and tis now no longer time
To disguise my thoughts to you, Iudge, I pray you,
If in this daunger I ought to expose her.
Fabritio.
How great is our misfortune?
Alphonso.
Not so great
As it appeares unto you; to be free
Of all feare, get ye gone all foure togeither.
[Page 88]The Duke will he reduced afterward
To be appeas'd.
Carlos.
This is a most sure way;
But whence proceeds this noise?
SCENA QUARTA.
Celin, Alphonso, Carlos, Fabritio, Climeno, Isabella, Celin [...]o Carlos.
C [...]lin.
Sir, diverse men
Armed with halberds desire speech with you.
Carlos.
Tis the Duke and his Guards, sure, their designe
Surpriseth me.
Alphonso.
I have lost all my hope.
Carlos, assuredly my sonne's discover'd.
Carlos.
We will be presently cleer'd on that point.
Without light let Fabritio stay heere,
And if he doubts that they are come to seek him
Behind this false wall he may hide himselfe:
He shewes them a wall which is turn'd upon a pivot of Iron.
See, how it turnes; before his death my Father
Fearing the malice of his enemies,
Caused it to be made in secret for him,
And I know that there is no wit so subtle [...]
That can finde out Fabritio in this place.
Alphonso.
To save thy life, doe this, Sonne, I conjure thee;
Climene.
And I Climene pray the [...].
Fabritio.
[Page 89]Lobey
As sonne, and I obey no lesse as Lover.
Carlos.
Let's cease discourse, and goe forth presently.
Exeunt all but Fabritio.
Fabritio alone.
Fabritio.
Heaven! must I alwaies be distracted thus
Twixt feare and hope, and must so just a love
Have such a rigid fortune? the Duke loves,
Or abhorres her, and I know that there's reason
To feare all things from him that hopeth nothing;
And that' bove all things it is daungerous
To be competitor with his Prince, and Rivall
Vnto his Master. But what! heare I not
Some person walke, at if he would come to me▪
SCENA QUINTA.
The Duke, Fabritio.
The Duke alone.
Duke.
I've passed through a streight way, now I enter
Into a greater, yet am still in doubt,
My hope's confounded, and my spirits dark▪
Which should light me in these obscurities?
Am I'mongst mortalls? am I in some cave?
Am I upon the earth, or in is center?
Murthered Fabritio offereth himselfe
To my remembrance, would Heaven punish [...]
For his unjust death? but I heare a noyse,
Who's there?
Fabritio.
Fabritio.
Duke.
[Page 90]Fabritio!
Appeares his Fantasme heere then for my punishment,
And am I sunk downe into Hell alive
To suffer for the evills I've made him suffer?
Fabritio.
I heare the Dukes voice, which I know full well.
Is it you then, Sir Duke?
Duke.
Th' art not deceiv'd.
I am the authour of thy death, I will not
Say any thing unto thee for to save
My life thou canst without crime take it frō him
Who hath tane thine from thee, all the feare which
Resteth unto me in this sad misfortune,
Proceedeth from my crime, not from my death;
And if now any griefe oppresseth me,
Tis not to dye, but to dye culpable.
Fabritio aside.
Fabritio.
He thinks me still dead, I will profit by
This errour. —
aside.
Duke, you have just cause to feare
My furie, your fate now is in my power,
Nothing can stop the course of my revenge;
I can now sacrifice your blood to mine;
But, Sir, you are my Prince, and I le not doe it;
Injustice I abhorre, and notwithstanding
My anger, I would rather suffer it
Then execute it.
Duke.
The mote thy respect
Appeares for me, the more unjust's thy death
And the more black my crime; by this, my fault
Becomes doubly condemnable, the lesse
[Page 91]Sevete thou art in punishing me, the more
I'm worthy punishment But if thy shadow
Pretendeth to resp [...]ct me, what obligeth thee
To persecute me thus in everie place?
How comes it that thou dost conferre upon me
Imperfect favouts? why dost thou pursue me?
What ist thou dost defire?
Fabritio.
Since you ordaine it
I'le speake it then; know, Sir, that this your trouble
Shall never see an end before you cease,
To love Climene.
Duke.
Cease to love Climene?
Oh! that's too much presumption, I may cease
To live, but not to love her. to obtaine
Thy wishes, thou shouldst ask a possible thing;
But I should have abus'd thee if I had
Flattered thy hope that I would cease to love
That charming Beautie.
Fabritio.
To love in this manner
Is to love like a tyrant.
Duke.
Well, I know
That I love like a tyrant, but no matter:
Know also that. Love who gives Law to me,
Is yet a blinder tyrant farre then I:
To force me to love this ingratefull Mistresse,
He hath to much strength, and I soo much weaknes
Onelie the hope that I can give thee is,
Never to see her more, yet still to love her.
Fabritio.
He that can lose the object, can lose also
The flame, the heart houlds not what the eye is
[Page 92]Depriv'd of, Love from our will hath his power;
To cease to love, there needs but the desire:
To put out all your flames, quench all your hope,
And yeild Clim [...]ne to my constancie.
Duke.
But if I should doe so, what's [...]hy designe?
Fabritio.
To marrie her.
Duke.
To marrie her? what! art thou
Not dead then?
Fabritio.
What have I said?
Duke.
Thou shouldst be
O'th' number of the living for this worke;
Who cherisheth a body, must not be
A shadow. Speak, and believe that thy death
Hath cost me teares.
Fabritio.
He feigneth for to knowe me,
And to destroy me afterward. —
aside.
Duke.
He answeareth not a word; Lets seek about.
But least he should goe forth, tis requisite
To keepe this porte: to know too where I am,
Tis best to make a noyse; hola! who's there?
Some one come to me.
Fabritio.
Heaven! whereto am I
Reduc'd? but let me, ere they bring a light
Advaunce towards the wall, and hide my selfe
Behind it.
Duke.
I'le be cleered in this doubt,
Heere comes a light.
SCENA SEXTA.
The Duke, Carlos, Alphonso, Valerio, Climene, Isabella, Guards.
Climene.
DOe we not see the Duke?
Duke.
See I againe my Mistresse?
Valerio.
Oh! we sought
Your Highnesse everie where.
Duke.
Is this enchantment?
Where am I?
Carlos.
In my house.
Duke.
But where is he?
Alphonso.
Who, Sir?
Duke.
Your Sonne.
Alphonso.
My Sonne.
Your Highnes is abus'd.
Duke.
I've speaken with him;
Vse no deceit towards me.
Alphonso.
Those are visions.
Duke.
They are truths, but he can't come forth, seek [...] refully
On everie side.
[Page 94]Alphonso speaking to Carlos.
Oh Carlos how I feare!
Carlos addressing himselfe to Alphonso.
Carlos.
I say, be not afraid.
Valerio.
Sir, I've seene nothing.
Duke.
Heaven! what new prodegie is this? Iudge all
If I have reason to believe my selfe
Enchanted: I went forth the garden, thinking
To see before mine eyes Fabritios Ghost,
When suddenlie I fell into a precipice;
And passing through places which I know not,
Arriv'd heere, where to encrease the horrour
Of my sad soule, his shadow once againe
Appear'd before me, spake long time unto me,
And us'd persuasions to make me cease
To love Climene, and to yeild her to him.
This discourse gave me much incertaintie
Of his condition; I doubted if
He was dead▪ but surprised and amaz'd
By this successe, I need no more to doubt it.
Would that it plased Heaven he were alive,
I should be free then of that sad remorse
Which wounds my conscience, I would doe him justice,
And banishing my fires, would satisfie
My selfe in rendering him happy.
Alphonso.
Sir,
It is an easie generosity
To lament, an oppressed enemie
That is no longer to be fear'd, you think
My sonne dead, and on that accompt, bewa [...]le him,
But if he were alive indead, you would
Be lesse humane.
Duke.
[Page 95]I would not break my word.
By Heaven, by faire Climene, by all nature,
I sweare to you Alphonso, that if now
Fabritio yet alive should by a miracle.
Appeare before mine eyes, so farre would I
Be from opposing still his iust desires
That I would willinglie resigne unto him.
That Beautie so belou'd and Cherished.
SCENA SEPTIMA.
Fabritio, The Duke, Alphonso, Carlos, Climeno, Isabella, Valorio, Guards.
Fabritio comming forth from behind the false wall.
Fabritio.
Behould me living then, most generous Prince,
Keep your word and your oath, and make me happie.
Duke.
Is this a Fantasme? Heaven!
Alphonso.
Shake of your feare.
It is Fabritio living, and his death
Is but a feigned thing.
Fabritio.
Sir, at your feete
I humbly doe expect the blest effect
Of what you promised.
Duke.
I'le keepe my word,
Climene's yours.
Alphonso.
Sir, favour my poore familie
In everie point, givs Carlos too in marriage
Vnto my daughter, and approve with me
Their innocent desires,
Carlos.
[Page 96]I humble crave
That favour from your Highnesse
Duke.
I consent to't;
Carlos, enioy your wish, although I am
Deceived by your artifice; but losing
My Mistresse, I lose my injustice too:
In not betraying me, you did betray
My glorie, who commands ill, should be ill
Obey'd▪, unjust designes may justly be
Destroy'd: Come follow me, and whilst your joyes
Are making readie, [...]ell me by what Art
The Amourous Fantasme plaid his subtle part.
The End of the fifth and last Act.
EPILOGUE to the Court.
LEt me Star gaze a while, and calculate
Those Heavens, to know our fortune, or our fate
Before I dare to speak; I cannot see
One cloud appeare that should discourage me;
Tis a good omen: Faire Queen of this night,
Not Cynthia, but a Goddesse far more bright,
To you I kneel. From him, whose glory is
To offer you a pleasing Sacrifice,
I meaneth' ambitious Poet I am come,
Humbly to begg a favourable doome
Vpon his Fantasme, who although he be
At the full point of his felicity
A perfect body no [...], yet if you frowne
Vpon his action, and so cry him downe,
No more a feigned Fantasme to be made,
He dyes indead, and flyes into a shade.
FINIS.