 | The Opportvnitie |  |
Ectus Quintus.
Enter Dutchesse, Mercutio, Ladies.Mer.
Madam I know not what to say, my heart
Is full of heartie zeale to obey you, but the place
You have confer'd upon my yeares, is much
Above my strength to satisfie, yet I thanke you.
Dut.
You have deserv'd we should encourage you
For what is past, your sonne is full of hope
And may grow up a statesman.
Mer.
He owes all
To your infinite favors Madam, a young man,
And would be active upon your commands.
Dut.
Leave us, stay my Lord we must employ you.
Mer.
I have not life enough to serve you Madam
My age is now a burthen, that I could
Shake off a score of winters.
Dut.
There's no such
Necessitie of youth to execute
The service you designe, you love your sonne.
Mer.
Above my owne health Madam, and let me
Be bold to tell your grace, I love him better
For your sake.
Dut.
For our sake.
Mer.
That he can carry
Himselfe so hansomely to deserve your good
Opinion, every Courtier that's advanc'd
To a warme place, does not behave himselfe
Alwayes to purpose.
To what purpose Signior?
Mer.
To please his Mistresse, and I am, I must
Confesse proud of his expectations,
It makes my blood dance Madam.
Dut.
You are very merry.
Mer.
I hope to have more cause.
Dut.
Well Sir, while we
Retire into the Garden, be it your care
We be not interrupted, give accesse
To none but Borgia, we have some privacies
Onely concerne his knowledge.
Mer.
My sonne Borgia.
Dut.
Your sonne, if you doe call him Borgia.
Mer.
Shall I goe for him?
Dut.
Hee'l be so officious
Perhaps to spare that trouble, if he come
Be diligent and admit him.
Exit.
Mer.
I shall Madam;
Shee's gone into the Garden, and commands
I give accesse to none but Borgia;
If he come, she has given me another office
To keepe the doore, it has beene a preferment.
I will do't now in spight of my owne humour,
Ha boy! something will come on't, if he have
The grace to nicke this opportunitie.
Enter Ferrara.
Fer.
The evening wastes a pace, I cannot be
Too soone at my desires, whoes that?
Mer.
Hee's come;
Already Borgia.
Fer.
One stands Centinell,
Is that the word? who names Borgia.
Mer.
My sonne.
Fer.
The same.
Mer.
This evening make thee happy, enter, no ceremony
I am not now against thy being a Duke,
Prove fortunate my boy, and blesse thy father.
Exit Fer.
So, so, if it were no one, and the Sunne look'd
With his broad brightest eye upon's, there are
On pretty mazes, labyrinths of love;
You might be there secure, and entertaine
Sweet time, most tall and fashionable hedges
In whose inclosures, Ladies that are willing
May lose themselves, and the next walke no wiser;
Now I thinke ont, this Cloyster with the helpe
Of such an evening might be darke enough
For such a turne; many a gentlewoman
Has beene content to embrace upon worse termes
Oh the Court lobbies, but I tell no tales,
Enter Borgia.
Another moving this way, by his favour
The Gardens taken up.
Bo.
Tis the best way
To say I am the Duke, that if he follow
He may prevent his owne accesse.
Mer.
Vmph, umph.
Bor.
That name will make the gates fly open to me
And I passe undiscovered.
Mer.
What are you?
Bo.
Here doe thy office, I am the Duke.
Mer.
The Duke
Your grace must pardon me, I am commanded
To admit none, her highnesse will enjoy
The garden privatly.
Bo.
Lord Mercutio.
Mer.
Your servant, but in this my dutie must
Ayme at anothers pleasure, if you be
The Duke I cannot helpe it, I am but
Greene in my honours, and I would not forfeit 'em
With my owne head to boot in her first service.
Bo.
Then Ile discover I am Borgia
Your sonne, your happy Borgia, be not you
The enemy, and barre my glorious fortune,
The Dutchesse has commanded me this evening
To meete her in the Garden, I can tell
Thee wonders old Mercutio, she loves me,
More I have an assurance from her hand
Mer.
Be not transported
For if you be my sonne doe you observe
You are yet but Borgia, and I your father
Old Mercutio, and old lad.
Bo.
Your pardon Sir,
My joy of such a blisse allowes no bound,
Why are you slow to make your sonne the happiest
Of all mankinde, the evenings bigge with glory
The winds doe whisper gently whose I am,
The birds with Musicke waite to entertaine me
Into Loves Bower, the Trees bow to my entrance,
And she that is the Mistresse of all these
Will bid me welcome.
Mer.
Are you Borgia.
Bor.
There's death in these delayes, doe not you know me?
Or dare you not beleeve what I affirme
Touching the Dutchesse.
Mer.
I beleeve you are
Borgia to my griefe, and doe beleeve
What you have said; her grace did appoint me
To waite here, and commanded I should give
Accesse to none but Borgia, de'e marke?
She was pleasd to tell me, she had businesse onely
Concern'd your knowledge, I dispute not what,
But 'tis some excellent affaire I am confident,
She was so merry about the lippes and eyes
And praisd you to my face.
Bo.
If this have faith w'ee
Why am not I admitted?
Mer.
All in good time.
Bo.
The gates should spread themselves.
Mer.
They shall not neede, Ile teach them with lesse trouble,
But first I have a suite to you.
Bo.
To me,
Speake and command it.
Mer.
Tis within mans remembrance
That you did want a pardon, now begge mine,
You please.
Bo.
Your pardon?
Mer.
Yes I am parcell Traytor
Against my will, and too much care aboue
My office made me abuse it, I admitted
Another gentleman, that deceiv'd me with
Your name, and how her grace may punish me
Is in my feares, unlesse you mediate for me.
Bo.
Did any take my name.
Mer.
Yes, and at first
Sound I discharg'd my dutie the wrong way
And let him in.
Bo.
In? whether?
Mer.
Into the Dutchesse.
Bo.
I am undone, this minute, I am blasted;
It was the Duke upon my life.
Mer.
The Duke, it may be so, although 'twere duskish
Me thought he carried more compasse with him;
But why should he take your name?
Bo.
Lost for ever.
Mer.
You found I had no zeale to his, how ever
Lose no more time; your power with her grace
May set all streight, and purchase me a pardon.
Bo.
Be rather lost as I am in thy dotage,
Thou hast depriv'd me of the wealthiest harvest
That ever Sunne-beames shin'd on.
Mer.
Does he thou me?
How would he domineere and he were Duke?
Bo.
My fortune bleeds to death, tis now too late
That paper ruines all my hope, and were
We equall, she would scorne my want of confidence
And laugh me out o'th world.
Mer.
Hee's very passionate.
Bo.
But there's no dwelling in this Wildernesse,
Things past are past sorrow, there is yet
A way to binde my wound up and secure
My health, though not a life with so much state
Cornelia, I know she loves me still,
At worst a little passion bestow'd
On her, with clearing I am another brother
Makes her my owne, and keepes me from the Pasquill;
I shall be jeer'd to dust else, there's my rest,
He that loves more then one is seldome blest.
Exit.
Mer.
Hee's gone and I am like to suffer for't,
By your highnesse favour I will waite no longer
To be chastiz'd, but when your grace is weary,
You shall not neede to strike me at the doore;
Tis open and I vanish in the darke;
Stay and Ile send some others to attend you,
You will want light, my sonne shall be no Duke
I perceive now, nor will I be a Courtier;
Put me to keepe the dore?
Exit.
Enter Cornelia, Laura, and Melinda.
Cor.
Did she dismisse you then?
Lau.
'Twas not her pleasure
We should attend.
Mel.
We left my Lord Mercutio
Your father with her.
Cor.
Went she towards the Garden?
Lau.
Yes, where's your brother Borgia?
Cor.
I know not.
Mel.
He is infinitely beholding to her grace,
She never mentions him without a flourish:
I know not, but if I have any skill
In lookes or language, there is something more
Then common in her highnesse breast meant toward him
Lau.
Shee may be in love.
Cor.
In love with whom?
Laus
Your brother.
Cor.
I blush to heare your weakenesse, I hope he
Hath more wit then to build vaine hopes on that;
Eagles stoope not to flies.
Mel.
But the Wren
Couch'd underneath the aspiring Eagles wings.
And glories in her hight, tis but a step
And the small thing is King of birds, the fable
Has pretty moralls in't.
Cor.
I am not sure
A rebell in my nature to his fortune,
But dare not pawne my owne discretion
To take up your opinions.
Enter Pietro:
Pie.
Signior Pisauro your brothers friend desires
To speake with you.
Lau.
Wee'l leave you Madam, by this time her grace
May want our duties.
Enter Pisauro.
Pis.
Did I fright you Ladies, looke better on me.
Lau.
We have seene you round Sir.
Pis.
But doe not know what's in me.
Mel.
We desire
To die in that pretious ignorance.
Exit.
Pis.
This Lady I hope's not of your minde.
Cor.
Your pleasure
My servant saies you would speake with me?
Pis.
If you
Remember Lady I was bold to urge
A little counsell on you, how it fastens
I come to understand.
Cor.
What counsell Sir.
Pis.
About your brother Signior Borgia.
Cor.
Please you assist my memory.
Pis.
Why it was
But this, I had a kinde of feare you lovd
This brother Madam.
Cor.
Would you have me be
So impious not to affect my brother.
Pis.
But you lov'd him the wrong way, de'e heare lustily
You understand, with the desire of coupling:
There lies no dispensation for that locke,
Tis impious and abhominable, you had better
I'th state you are in keepe a Pensioner
To give you heats, a fellow that will venture
With so much sinne to nature.
Cor.
Doe you thinke
I am a Monster Signior?
Pis.
Better marry
An honest man and make one a great deale:
Your husband may be excusd i'th progresse Lady,
Besides he may have faults, a negligence
In's visits, or mistaking of his times,
When you are invited by another Lord
To a banquet, or take physicke, or the aire
Appointed by your Doctor, there are reasons
To excuse an active Lady that is married
But to affect your brother so, inexpiable.
Cor.
You have invention enough to furnish
The Court with vice, how e're you seeme to have
Care of my soule, pray give me pardon Sir,
Doe you ever meane to marry?
Pis.
Marry? oh yes.
Cor.
Not a Court Lady sure.
Pis.
One of that tribe to chuse.
Cor.
Without the feare
Of being such a monster made by her
Whose wantonnesse you wittily have charactred.
Pis.
I'ha read my destinie, she that I shall marry
Will be very honest, exceeding chast as I
Shall be to her, I did but tell you what
Whirligigs are i'th world, and that 'twere better
And safer for your conscience to be one
Of Venus order, and keepe tame a Groome
A stallian Dormant then embrace a brother.
Cor.
What should incline you
To imagine me so lost to modestie?
What have you read in me to make you thinke
I love my brother so?
Pis.
My charitie.
Cor.
There's little charitie in those suspitions.
Pis.
Your brother
Told me himselfe you lov'd him strangely.
Cor.
So, so.
Pis.
Nay, nay he was i'th same pickle.
Cor.
He told
You that himselfe too.
Pis.
Yes, yes, till I tamper'd with him
And sacrific'd his flesh with ghostly counsell,
Read Law and Lectures, I will tell you Madam
He was once so overgrowne with love, he had
Resolv'd to tell you he was not your brother,
And rather then be frustrate of his hopes
Vow'd to forsweare it, and subborne testimony
He was no kin to you, borne I know not where,
And never saw the towne afore, whose people
Had all this while cozend themselves, with an
Opinion he was Borgia; here's a youth now,
Did he ne're deale with you to such a purpose.
Cor.
Never, he wud not be so wicked sure.
Pis.
Did you ever heare the like? you know it now,
Thanke heaven and a good friend that told you this;
A friend that wud not see this pretty vessell
Lost i'th' quick-sands, when both goods and it
May be his owne another day: I love you
And none shall doe you wrong.
Cor.
I should be ingratefull
Not to acknowledge Sir this noble office
Meant to preserve me.
Pis.
That was my pure meaning,
You may requite it if you please.
Cor.
With love.
Pis.
'Tis the reward my ambition first aymes at.
Cor.
I love my brother now in his owne place,
And being his bosome friend I will not question,
But to enlarge my knowledge of your worth
And take me nearer to me for his Character,
Pis.
Vmph, now you blesse me Lady,
If his hopes thrive in the Dutchesse as I doubt not
I am made, Ile seeke him out, I wish no better
Testimony, he shall not gilt you unders hand.
Cor.
No haste.
Pis.
He knowes me to a thought, nay, nay
He shall doo't presently, if I can light on him.
Cor.
To morrow Signior, I suspect it not.
Pis.
It does concerne my honour, tis done instantly,
She may be cold e're morning, Ile not lose
This opportunitie, I am made for ever.
Exit.
Cor.
He has an odde way of Courtship, sure my brother,
Vnlesse he know him better then this wildnesse
Can promise, will be sparing to contract
Our hearts too fast, he has but a rough outside,
But my strange thoughts within me are corrected,
And I possesse my selfe againe thanke providence,
Ursini.
Enter Ursini.
Urs.
Madam I am bold to presse
On your retirement, but when you remember
I bring no mutinous thoughts, but such as are
Devoted to your service, you will thinke it
A trespasse that may soone invite a pardon.
Cor.
You must first practise to offend my Lord,
This is favour to me.
Urs.
Still such goodnesse
Flowes from your language to me at the first
Encounter; but when I take boldnesse to
Have some assurance from you alone,
Which I have hop'd and serv'd for, with the truth
Of your best honorer, you decline the subject,
Or flie the sweet conclusion.
Cor.
My Lord,
That you have lov'd, at least profess'd so much,
May easily be granted, but let me
Motion that wrought upon your minde to thinke
Me worthy of your love acquaint me with it.
Urs.
No Madam,
I long cherish'd the soft fire
That tryed the purenesse of it, and the object
That shot so bright a flame into my bosome,
And had supprest it still, but that your vertue
Grew up too powerfull against it, then
I tooke leave to expresse how much I wish'd
To be your votary.
Cor.
Give me equall licence
My Lord in the same cause to try my selfe,
I have thoughts too would be compos'd of something
In you to be examin'd.
Urs.
I submit,
And shall obey your censure, life and death
Hange on your lippe, I come to be determin'd
Your servant or your sacrifice, for to languish
At distance thus.
Cor.
Then you expect an answer
Presently, I much feare my Lord I shannot,
In that particular, satisfie your Lordship.
Urs.
You want no knowledge of me, there is nothing
In my past fate but may appeare to you;
My nature needs no glosse, my blood, my fortune
Cleare to your view, my person not much witherd;
If these together want a charme, I can
Deserve you may love, for I know best
The extent of my devotions, and the heart
That tho you should despise it must still serve you.
Cor.
But good my Lord what answer you to this?
Is it becomming the discretion
Of a noble servant to persue his mistris
By unruly wayes, and interpose commands
And power of great ones to enforce the heart
Of any Lady: though I must confesse
To her law and person, it has beene yet a rule,
And love and religion cannot be compel'd
Urs.
You doe not conclude me, if I obtain'd
A favour from the Dutchesse to propound
My wishes, and plead for me, I know well
The soule is not her subject, could her power
Bestow your body on me, and that I
Could boast my selfe Lord of beautious frame
Without your minde, I were more tyrant to
Accept then she to force, and answer for
A crime more fatall then the ravishers.
Enter Pietro.
Pie.
Your brother Madam.
Cor.
If I have any power
My Lord you must not leave me, yet I would
Entreate your small retreate behinde the hangings
For a few minuts.
Urs.
Your command's a favour.
Enter Borgia.
Bo.
Oh Cornelia.
Cor.
What's the matter brother.
Bo.
Are you alone.
Cor.
You see my company.
Bo.
De'e love me.
Cor.
Love you brother, what have I
Done to beget your doubt.
Bor.
But doe you love me
More then a sister? if I were not Borgia,
Remove from us the common tie of blood
Which is not love, but forc'd of nature in us,
Could you affect me then, then if I answerd
This honour with a true and noble flame
Vpon such brave conditions, Cornelia
Could our hearts meete and marry?
Cor.
This were strange,
But not so strange that we should love.
Then pardon
Fairest Cornelia, and make him blest
Whose very soule dotes on thee, I have but
Vsurp'd the name of Borgia, I can give
Thee proofe.
Cor.
'Tis come about.
Enter Pisauro.
Bo.
Pisauro welcome
The man of all mankind, most wishd for welcome:
Madam this gentleman can witnesse I am
None of your brother, we were bred together,
Both borne in Millan, and my name is
Aurelio Androzzi sonne to Paulo
Androzzi major domo to the Dukedome,
My friend too of a noble family.
Pis.
Did not I tell you this.
Bo.
Weary of home
We both engag'd our selves to try our fortune
Abroad, and for the warres had last designd
Our selves, we tooke but Urbin in the way,
Where some good starres detain'd us, and I taken
For Borgia pursued thus farre the story.
Cor.
Ha, ha, ha.
Bo.
De'e laugh at me, Pisauro shee's incredulous.
Speake and convince her with thy testimony.
Pis.
I have told enough already.
Bo.
She wants faith.
Cor.
That gentleman prepar'd me for this history
Doe you not blush brother? Sir I thanke you.
Pis.
I am sorry for his impudence.
Bo.
Cornelia,
Pisauro Why art thou silent.
Pis.
I tell you I did speake to her.
Cor.
'Tis time I then dispose my selfe.
Pis.
Now my happinesse.
Cor.
My Lord I pray come forth.
You Gentlemen by your owne confessions
Are strangers to me, and altho I doe not
Distrust heavens providence, I shall not sinne
To give my freedome up where I am knowne;
My Lord if you accept Cornelia
Shee's thus confirm'd your owne.
Urs.
With greater joy
Then I would take an Empire, this drops peace
Vpon my brothers ashes, and unites
For ever our two families.
Pis.
Where's the Dutchesse?
Bo.
I prithee doe not vexe me.
Pis.
Doe not vexe
Thy selfe, come wee're at large, our constitution
Would ha' beene troubled with a wife, we have
The world before us, store of game is necessary,
The Dutchesse.
Enter Dutchesse, Ferrara, Pietro, Iulio, Lucio Laura Melinda.
Dut.
You now possesse us freely, the next morning
Shall spread this joy through Urbin.
Urs.
We are happy
And every heart congratulates.
Fer.
We thanke you
Signior Ursini, you have beene faithfull to us.
Dut.
Is your name Borgia?
Bo.
No Madam,
Dut.
Where's our letter?
We did not thinke y'ad beene so apprehensive,
You see it now confirm'd, we hope you had
No thought we meant it otherwise, be prudent
And carefull in your province, heaven I see
Wud have it thus, and rectifie our folly.
Enter Mercutio.
Mer.
Your pardon gratious Madam.
Dut.
Signior,
We thanke your diligence, possesse our favour.
Mer.
I am one of the worst keepers of a dore,
Dut.
No more, all's well.
Mer.
I'me glad ont.
Urs.
Sir your blessing.
Cor.
Madam your smiles upon us and we cannot
Despaire of happinesse.
Mer.
But where's Borgia?
Bo.
I know not Sir.
Fer.
Rise ever fortunate.
Pimponio within.
Oyes, oyes.
Dut.
What's the matter?
Iu.
A foole has lost his master, and thus cries him
About the Court.
Pis.
Pimponio a' my conscience.
Enter Pimponio.
Pim.
Oyes;
If any man there be
In towne or in countree
Can tell me of a wight
Was lost but yester-night,
His name was I know
Signior Aurelio,
By these markes he is knowne,
He had a bush of his owne,
Two eyes in their place
And a nose on his face,
His beard is very thinne
But no haire on his chinne,
Bring word to the cryer
His desolate squire,
And for this fine feate
Take what you can get;
And heaven blesse Pimponio, for no body knownes me
And I know no body else to pray for.
Cor.
Hee's not my brother indeed then.
Mer.
Nor my sonne.
Pis.
'Tis too true Maddam, here, here's thy master
No, no, that's Signior Borgia, doe not deceive your selfe
Bo.
We are both deceiv'd Pimponio shall I hope
Of your free pardon Madam for all trespasses?
My Lord your breath is powerfull.
Dut.
Rise Aurelio.
Fer.
And be deare to us.
Mer.
I hope the pardon's firme.
Dut.
Irrevocable.
Mer.
I'le dispatch letters then to Naples, thence
He did salute me last, how were we cosend!
But Sir I thanke you for my Borgias pardon.
Cor.
Although it be cleare now y'are not my brother
Pray take my poore acknowledgement, I shall
Be proud for your sake, to preserve your friendship.
Bor.
May your hopes prosper in him; now we two
With licence of your excellence may
Prosecute our designe agen for the warres.
Dut.
If nothing else at Court invite your stay
We lay commands upon you as our servant
That you see all our ceremonies finish'd,
To celebrate this happy union
You must be both our guests.
Pim.
Doe let us feast
And fortifie our selves, we shall have
Our bellies full of fighting time enough.
Pis.
Thinkes your grace so?
Dut.
Subjects may love as their rude sense imparts,
But heaven doth onely governe Princes hearts.
FINIS.
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