University of Virginia Library

Act. 4.

Enter Cornari, after him Claudiana.
Clau.
Your pleasure sir; you did command my presence.

Cor.
Are you come? you and I must not be
Interrupted Claudiana.

Claud.
Why do you shut your Chamber?

Cor.
Wee must be private.
How does my life?

Clau.
Well sir, if you be so.

Cor.
I have a sute to thee, my best Caudiana.

Clau.
To me? it must be granted.

Cor.
That's well said,
But 'tis a businesse (sweet) of mighty consequence,
More pretious then my life.

Cla.
Goodnesse forbid
I should not give obedience to the least
Of your commands, but when your life requires
My service, I should chide my heart, and thoughts
Unlesse they put on wings to shew their duty.

Cor.
Nay, 'tis a businesse sweet will speak thy love.

Cor.
Thou knowest how many years since the Priest tyed
Our holy knot, with what religious flowing
Of chast and noble love our hearts have met,
How many blessings have I summ'd in thee,
And but in thee, for unto this, Heaven gave not
(That which indeed doth Crown all Marriage,)
Children, thou hast been fruitfull Claudiana
In all that's good, but onely fruitfulnesse;
And when I think who in my want of that
Great blessing of thy womb, must be my heir,
A base and impious villain, to possesse
And riot in my spacious fortunes, I
Forget that other happinesse in thy person,
And let in a vexation to consume me.

Cla.
I know not what to fear, it is heavens will
And not my fault.

Cor.
Oh no, the fault is mine,
All mine Claudiana, for thou art not barren
'Tis I, a man prodigious and mulcted
By nature, without faculty of man
To make our marriage happy, and preserve
This fair; this lovely figure, be at peace
And let me blush, a thing not worth the love
Of such a bounteous sweetnesse.

Cla.
Let me fall
[Kneeles]
Beneath that which sustaines me, ere I take
In a beleef, that will destroy my peace,
Not in the apprehension of what
You frame to accuse your self, but in fear
My honour is betraid to your suspition;
Oh kill me sir, before I lose your thought,
Your noble thought.

Cor.
Rise, with thy tears I kisse
Away thy tremblings; I suspect thy honor?
My heart will want faith to believe an Angel,
That should traduce thy fair name, thou art chast.
As the white down of heaven, whose feathers play
Upon the wings of a cold winters gale,
Trembling with fear to touch the impurer earth.
How are the roses frighted in thy cheekes
To palenesse, weeping out of transparent dew:
When a loose story is but nam'd? thou art
The miracle of a chast wife, from which fair
Originall, drawn out by heavens own hand,
To have had one Copie, I had write perfection
To all my wishes here, but 'tis denyed me,
Nor do I mock thee with a fable, while
I miserably complain, convinc'd, and lost
In my own Masculine defect; but yet
I love thee Claudiana, dost not think so?
And after so much injury, I bring
Not my repentance onely, but a just
And noble satisfaction.

Cla.
You oppresse
My sences with the weight of new amazement.

Cor.
I must be clear, thou must embrace another—
Another in my bed, whom from the world
I have made choice to know thee, be not frighted
This way is left, and this alone to recompence
My want, and make both happy.

Cla.
I embrace
Another in your bed?

Cor.
Dost think I would
Attempt, or wish thee to't, without a care
In every circumstance to both our fames?

Cla.
Fame? are you master of your reason? dare you
Provoke heaven thus?

Cor.
Heaven onely shall be witnesse,
Whose secresie i'le trust, but not anothers.
Beside the principall agent, to get heaven.

Cla.
Y'are no Italian sure.

Cor.
Yes, and thy husband,
A just one to thy memory, that would
Cancell his faith, rather then be a strict
Idolater of words, and severe lawes,
To the destroying of so sweet a figure;
I would not have thee flye like birds i'th aire,
Or shippes that leave no tract, to say here was,
So rich a blessing, rather like a plant
Should root, and grow, and bloom, & bear for ever.

Cla.
I'me lost for ever.

Cor.
Be wise and meet my wishes, 'tis my love
That hath 'orecome all nice considerings
To do thee justice. Nor will I intrude
Upon thy bosome one shall be unwelcome,
Hee's honorably born, of comely person,
But has a soule addes glory to 'em both,
A boy from him, born to my name and fortunes
Leaves not another wealth to my ambition.
To raise thy free consent my Claudiana,
'Tis he, Whom thou dost think worth thy owne praise,
The gentleman victorious for his parts,
So late in Venice, the English Cavalier.

Cla.
I am undone.

Cor.
To be short,
I have surpriz'd his person for this use,
He hath been many daies an obscure guest
Within the lodgings next the Garden, for
I must confesse I have had struglings in
My nature, and have sate in Councell 'gainst
My selfe sometime, touching this great affair,
But I have answer'd every thing oppos'd it,
And took this time to acquaint thee.

Cla.
Good sir kill me.

Cor.
I will,
And him too, if ye mingle not and make
The project as I cast it, be not obstinate,
Why, he shall nere discover who thou art,
If thou be faithfull to thy self, thou maist
Pretend thy self some pleasant bona-roba.
Or take what name, and shape thou wilt.

Cla.
There's none
Can hide my shame, or wash the stain away.

Cor.
What shame or stain is in't when it is kept
A secret darker then the book of destinie
From mankind?

Cla.
Am I practis'd in those arts?
Of sin that he should take me for a Curtesan?
Nay, rather let me be known your wife,
It will oblige him more to use me well,
And thank your loving paines that brought me to him.
If I must be a whore, and you a—

Cor.
Stay, and I a—what? I bleed within me.

Cla.
This key will make the Chamber free, I follow.
Consider sir, I'me else undone for ever

Ex.
Cor.
Why if he know me for her husband, 'tis
Without a name, I can secure my honor,
And send him quickly to eternall silence.
I'me resolv'd they must obey, proceed,
A little blood will wash away this deed.

Ex.
Enter Duke, Senators, Attendants, Letters upon a Table.
Duke
Our City drooping with the wounds so late
Receiv'd, is now to study with what joyes
To entertain so great a victory.
Treuiso is return'd to our obedience,
Almost without a losse, how many fell
On the adverse part, those papers signifie,
And must enlarge our tryumph: but is't not
Strange what our generall writes of Giovanni,
Whose spirit he admires, and forward valour,
Referring to his bold attempt, our Conquest,
That he advanc'd his head and sword first on
The enemies walls, which inflam'd our army
To second him with courage, and that after
With his own hands he slew their generall,
Whose fall shot death and trembling through their Army.

Can.
Where is Giovanni?

Du.
He is by direction of our generall
Now marching hither, to his onely conduct.
The Captives are remitted, and his act
By us to be considered, but we have
Sent order for the placing of his Prisoners
Securely, and commanded he should here
Attend our pleasure

Can.
The young Gardiner?

Du.
The same, whose early valour takes away
The prejudice of humble birth, and ought
To be encourag'd nobly.

Can.
'Tis but justice.
Enter Marino.
Is't possible the Gardiners Son should so
Behave himself in war,
He will deserve some honor for't.

Du.
Why may not
Our power dispence, and though his low condition
By our rule exempt him (for his gallant service
Done) now create him gentleman of Venice,
With a noble pension from our treasury
To bear his title up?

Can.
We give it strangers,
Whose birth we not examine,
He deserves it.

Du.
Let him receive no favour
For his relation to me, but take
His place and punishment with the rest, away
I cast him from my thought.

Exit Marino.
Can.
Why comes not
Our Generall himself?

Du.
Reasons of war
May yet compell his stay, hee's to repair
Some breaches which our Souldiers made, & wisely
By some new fortification, secure
The Town if the Enemy should reinforce.

Att.
Signior Giovanni waites.

Enter Mar.
Du.
Hath he dispos'd
By our direction those prisoners were
Sent by our Generall?

Atten.
He hath and please your excellencie.

Du.
Admit him.

Enter Giovanni plum'd and brave Georgio his servant
Gio.
All health and honor to the Duke and Senate.

Du.
We thank thee Giovanni, and will spare
Your trouble to relate what we have gain'd
I'th war; Our General writes how much our Venice
Doth owe to you, whose maiden yet bold valour
Hath wrought our safety, and supprest the late
Insolent Genowese.

Gio.
Your bounty makes
That mine, which I want merit sir to challenge,
But if my will to serve my Country (for
Beside that name and warm desires, I dare
Call nothing mine) y'are pleas'd to accept and cherish
A young mans duty, you will teach me in
The next employment to deserve indeed.
Till when, you lose not, to have built upon
This humble pile, a monument of your goodnesse,
To tell the world, although misplac'd on me,
You love a growing vertue.

Du.
This Giovanni?
His words tast more of courtier then the Garden.
To shew we understand, and to that knowledge
Have will to recompence the desert, Giovanni
The Senate bidds you ask, what in your power
Your thought can aim at, to reward your service,
And you shall soon possesse it.

Geo.
Ask, ask quickly,
A hundred thousand double double duccats.
'Twil serve us both, do't, beggars must be impudent.

Gio.
Now you destroy what else might live to serve you,
This grace will make me nothing, when I call
My airy worth to ballance, keep those glorious
Rewards for men borne, and brought up in honor?
That may be great and able Columnes to
Your ever envyed state; alas I rise
Like a thin reede beneath this Common-wealth,
Whose weight, an Atlas must sustain like heaven,
This favour is too mighty, and if you
Command me, ask a just reward, 'tis nothing.

Geo.
You had as good ha said nothing, I blush for you,
You know many Souldiers
So modest, to refuse pay, or preferment?
They cannot have it sometimes, after many
Petitions to the State, and now their mindes
Are soluble and apt to powre out favours,
You to be so maidenly—

Gio.
May I credit
With pardon of your wisdomes, that you mean
To encourage thus the low born Giovanni?

Geo.
Now he makes question of their honesty too,
Oh simple souldier.

Du.
We look not at thy root, but at thy blossom,
And as a preserver of our Country
We offer up a gratitude, consult
With thy best judgement, (though beside this act
Of his abroad) I can give no account
[Aside]
Why I should love this young man, or prefer him,
I know not by what mystery, I have
Had thoughts to wish him more then common fortune,
And this occasion of his merit offered.
I will pursue.

Geo.
Do as I counsell you, and remember, I
Have left my fortunes, and my trade to serve you.

Gio.
Call it not pride if I be willing to
Believe your excellence, that I have done
Somthing your goodnesse prompts you to reward,
And the grave Senate, I have thought.

Du.
Be free.

Geo.
Now do I expect to be half a Senator at least.

Gio.
And since you raise my act to such a merit,
I will not ask a thing too much beneath it.

Geo.
Well said Vannij.

Gio.
And shame your bounty; yet I may fear
You will not grant—

Geo.
Agen?

Du.
Name it with confidence.

Gio.
I look at no reward of gold.

Geo.
How's that? hee's out on's part.

Gio.
I know not,
By what fate I contemn it, nor at titles
Of honor, or command, or what can trench
On state or wealth.

Geo.
I thank yee heartily,
I must to dig agen.

Gio.
Employ such gifts,
To pay some slight, and mercenary soules,
That make their end of good, reward, and not
It selfe, but since you have impos'd I should
Make choyce of somwhat know my ambition aims.

Du.
At what?

Gio.
It is too great a happinesse, but I now
Consider I have pratled to the wind,
What I desire is not within your power,
And what you may command, not in my wishes,
For I would ask Bellaura: can you make
Me fit for such a blessing? no, you cannot,
Unlesse I were unborn, and should agen
Come forth, not Giovanni, but the Son
Of some bright name, and this world-taking honor.

Du.
Bellaura? strange request.

Enter Marino and Bellaura.
Mar.
Madam I dare not
Be seen, if you prevail, I shall attend,
And put his mercy into act.

Exit.
Du.
Shee's here.

Bel.
I have a suit to your highnesse.

Du.
Me Bellaura?

Bel.
About your son, whom men to your dishonor
Lead like some base offender.

Du.
I must speak
The cause into your ear.

[Whispers to her]
Gio.
I was too blame
To mention her so publick, but my heart
Grew sick with silence, and their proposition
To ask what I desir'd most, prevail'd
Against my reason:

Du.
Leave him to me, Bellaura.
Do you observe that gentleman?

Bel
'Tis Giovanni.
He does become the souldier.

Du.
He has done wonders
Abroad, and quit our gratitude, to be
Onely by you rewarded, can you love him?

Bel.
I understand you not.

Du.
And marry him?

Bel.
How have I lost my self, since I became
Your charge, a legacie bequeath'd your care
By my dead father, the late Duke of Venice,
That you should think I can descend with such
Forgetfullnesse of my self, my birth or fortunes
To place my love on one so poorly born.

Du.
You blush.

Bel.
'tis anger in my blood to hear him nam'd.
[To Giovanni]
You pay me coursely for my charity.
Learn modesty hereafter to be gratefull.
I ha done we'e sir

Exit.
Geo.
Do you heer the tit? be wise,
And look at ready money, 'tis a better
Commodity then any Lady in Christendom;

Gio.
Pray dismiss,
And pardon Giovanni. I am satisfied.
For your own honor let not my ambition
Be told abroad, i'le check and punish my
Aspiring thoughts hereafter.

Du.
You have leave,
Come gentlemen,
He is in love.

Du.
I pitty him.

Exit. Duke and Senator.
Geo.
What shall become of us now by your folly?

Gio.
Wee'l to the Garden George, and there begin
Another grouth, for what we have's despis'd.

Geo.
I knew I should return to my dear dunghill.

Gio.
I prethee see the armour which Bellaura
Bestow'd on me, brought home.

Geo.
Your armour? yes
We might have worn soft natur'd silk, and you had
Been rul'd by me, a pox of love for my part,
'Tis good for nothing, but to make things dear.

Gio.
I'le be reveng'd upon my starrs, that made
Me poor, and dye forgotten in my shade

Ex.
A Table prepar'd, two tapers. Enter Florelli.
Flo.
I find no great devotion in this
Monastick life, the Maior Domo promis'd
A Mistris here of that complexion,
But I like not this solitude,
And tedious expectations,
I shall nere do things handsomly,
Give me freedome and fair play,
And turn me to a harpy, but to be thus
Compell'd to an imbrace (for thats the meaning
Of my slie Signior, if it be not worse)
Fed high to encounter with an Amazon,
I know not? tis not well, nor conscionable
In my opinion: I hear some busie
About the lock.
Enter Cornari.
My Jaylor? What now fellowes?
Sir, if I must ha my throat cut, as much
Better I do not hope, though I deserve not
That bounty from your hands, I live so dully,
I would request you set a time, and't be
A day or two, to pray and think of matters,
And then turn me loose to the other world!

Cor.
Read that.
[gives him a paper]
He shannot see my blushes, I must pitty
Thee Claudiana, but my stubborn fate
Will have it so, it is to make thee live
Although we both must suffer, and I like
A father thus, whose child at play upon
A rivers bank, is faln into the stream,
Leap in, and hazard all to save a little,
But I must on.

Exit.
Flo.
Amazement Circles me,
Such wonders are not read in every Marriage,
What shall I doe? madnesse to question it.
I must resolve or die? since there's no help,
Tis something if she be but like that face
To comfort my proceeding.

Enter Cornari leading his wife Veild.
Cor.
Behold, and take as lent this treasure from me,
I must expect it back agen with interest.

locks the door and Ex.
Flo.
The dore is fast agen, here is a president
For husbands that want heirs to their estate.
A goodly person. Please you Lady, to
Unveil; a rich and most inviting beauty.
[she unveils]
I am all flame, shall I take boldnesse, after
My duty paid your white hand, to aspire
And touch your lip—now could I wish to dwell here.
[he kisses]
Can you read Lady?
She takes the paper & turns.
She turnes away her face. I hope my Signior
Has taken paines to bring her to the businesse,
And not left me to break her: can she speak?
Those lines (I know not how you like 'em Madam)
Were none of my invention, the character,
I guesse to be your husbands. I am here
A prisoner to his will, to which unlesse
You give obedience, I have took leave
Of day for ever, destin'd by his vow
To an eternall shade.
Exit Claudiana.
She leads the way;
Conscience be calme, no grumblings now of piety.