 | The Twins |  |
Act. 4.
Scen. 1.
Enter Lord Fulvio, Clarinda, Lurco, and Jovio.Lur.
Why where should they be? that honest Gentleman Signior
Alphonso, I love him with my heart. Please you Sir, Ile take
horse, and range about for 'em; alass good Gentlemen, 'twould be
the death of me should they miscarry: the thought makes me
weep.
Ful.
Away you great fool.
Cla.
Ne'r since we came thence?
Jov.
Madam, ne'r fear, they'r rid somwhere for pleasure.
Lur.
You'l find but little pleasure in such a journey, if all hit right as
I ha' plotted it.
Jov.
Sfoot Madam, if you have been making husbands so long and
lose 'em now, ye make fine work of it.
Ful.
But hear you Lurco and Jovio, when you goe home see you
don't tell Julietta too hastily of the news, but by degrees, and leade
her easily: Doe not you say, they are not here, that you can't hear
of them, or that you fear some ill hap has befaln 'em; 'tis too burthensome;
the heavy waight layd on at once would press her into dust, she
is so gentle natur'd.
Cla.
O fear some ill's befaln 'em.
Lur.
Indeed so do I, I cannot be quiet.
Enter Alphonso disguised.
Alph.
If that the fair Clarinda be in place, my business is to her.
Cla.
I am Clarinda.
Alph.
This Letter then is yours.
Cla.
I pray whence came it?
Alph.
From the sea coast.
Ful.
From the sea coast to her? a thousand thoughts do war within
my breast.
Clar.
Unfortunate Carolo!
Jov.
Ha! what sayd you Madam!
Ful.
From Carolo; nay then they are not lost
Cla.
I fear they are.
Ful.
Let's see, let's see good girl.
Of two so much injured, Ladies, that I should write to you that are the
most wrong'd, the chief cause was your strength of spirit, compared
with Julietta's weakness—
Ful.
Ha!
Cla.
Nay smother it not, the Letter's sent to me.
Heaven grant she bear it nobly like her self, or I am doubly
miserable.
Foolish jealousie has made Alphonso nothing, me worse, he dead, I
fled: grieve not for that it is too late to help: prop us Julietta's weakness
with your courage; and doubt not but heaven hath reserved you
both for worthier husbands: The bearer of my Letter has been long
a Souldier, loving and gentle, his discourse fluent, and not triveal, his
gesture comely, and if he deliver you this Letter, I dare call him faithfull:
his wounds speak him valiant, his long exercise experienced in
the wars, and for want of encouragement in them, willing he is to
serve in peace, if you can entertain him, though not for me, yet for
him that lately liv'd and lov'd you, Alphonso—
False hope is this the comfort that you give? heart, heart! let not me
give bad examples and shew a womanish passion.
Alph.
Heaven send my project take effect.
Lur.
Here's lamentable news, Carolo has slain Alphonso, and is fled.
Well Carolo was an honest Gentleman to take my part, he saw how I
was wrong'd: But to run away—I would ha' stood to it,
though I had been hang'd for it: I should ha' laugh'd to ha'
seen him on the rack making wry faces, but 'tis indifferent well
being as it is.
aside.
Alph:
O that I durst reveal my self! How cheer you Sir?
Ful:
Well, well: What looks my poor Clarinda for?
Cla.
My heart, my heart, I had it since I came hither; 'twas a very
merry one; you'l find it laughing when e'r you find it, pray turn up the
rushes.
Ful.
Why thou hast thy heart girl.
Cla:
Then 'tis mightily chang'd.
Ful:
Nay sweet don't weep, why thy Alphonso's well, Alphonso's happy
girl, he does not feel the grief and anguish that we all endure. He
sits and smiles at misery while thou weepest.
Clar:
But he felt misery e'r he tasted bliss.
Ful.
I would fain comfort her, but that my tears they are bad comforters.
Alph.
I cause all this, but cannot, dare help it:
[aside.
Might I advise you, though but a stranger to you, or your grief: If
there be any els to bear a part in this your wo, hasten your journy to 'em.
Are often conquer'd by a multitude.
Cla.
A cheerful language.
H' has a goodly presence, and mark'd for better fortunes then
he bears: brought you this Letter?
Alph.
Yes, and I am sorry I am a messenger of sorrow to you.
Ful.
Did you see Carolo?
Alph.
Yes, and when I saw him a cloud of cares did sit upon his brow,
mingled with smiles, as when the sun doth shine amidst a showre of rain,
he seem'd much troubl'd, yet seem'd to bear it nobly.
Clar.
Pray stop there, or I shall pitty him whom I must hate.
Alph.
O now I find my jealousie was causeless.
[aside.
Ful.
Pray Sir a word with you; if the mean proffer I shall make
you be not inferiour to your birth and fortunes, I should intreat you
would stay with us, not as a servant but companion to me and my Clarinda,
and a comforter when she shall be dejected.
Alph.
O my heart dances to hear such Musick. O my Lord, you
see I'm newly come from sea, and quite unfurnisht of any thing to doe
your Lordship service.
Ful.
Let not that trouble you; you shall cast away that homely
case.
Cla.
This is some comfort, me-thinks his speech is very like Alphonso's
Ful.
It shall be done—Jovio, wee'l with you,
Better one house be fill'd with wo than two.
Lurco, provide our horses.
Exeunt.
Enter Charmia alone.
Char.
Was my mother alwaies chast, never once false, nor can the
world shew me that peerless woman whose honesty was not shorter then
her life. Should I confine my search for such a one to my own tribe, it
were to seek a diamond in a handful of clay: the universe of nature can't
pattern my Idea with a substance. I begin to think there's not an honest
woman: Why may not they be false as well as I? Sure the best good
that's in the best of us, is to be less bad then the common sort, that sin
unmaskt. I judge another honest, she thinks me so, yet both of us stark
naught: Now what's the reason of this misconstruction? because we
know no more dishonesty but what's our own; ne'r saw each others
sin. We are honest only in the opinion and charity of others,
not our own lives. Whither runs my girl?
Enter Jul.
Juliet.
I must go ring the bels upon my Lute for joy Alphonso's kild,
and Carolo run away: I must run after him.
Exit.
Char.
Forfend it heaven; blest Angels guard my child, she is distracted:
If her words be true, I fear she's irrecoverably lost.
Exit.
Grat.
Heaven has a hand in all: where is your Lady?
Jov.
When we came hither, she went away in haste: I think Julietta's
with her.
Grat.
Then she knowes it.
Ful.
I would She did not: t'will increase her malencholly, and hasten
on her death.
Grat.
O brother Fulvio, I would not lose my love for both the India's
conjoyn'd in one: vertue and chastity dwell in her brest.
Ful.
Yet now they have chang'd their lodging, i'm afraid—
[aside.
what? are all drown'd in teares? not one swim out? fie, fie Clarinda.
Clar.
So, they that are well can readily give counsel to the sick, which
were they ill, they would not take themselves.
Enter Juliet. and Charm.
Char.
My girle, my girle.
Jul.
O Cuz, shall we two wags dance the new galliard afore all these
folkes?
Char.
Deer child.
Jul.
I have a very light heart of late, I know not how big, or how
little 'tis; but I am lighter with it then I should be without it. Nay, I
should be so heavy without my heart, that I should not be able to stir
nor move my selfe. Wilt thou be merry?
Clar.
No.
Jul.
Then farewell frost, thou art the Antipedes unto my humour,
and I care not for thee: you are her Counseller, give her good counsel,
and i'se double your fee: but if you advise her against Playes,
Masques, and Revels, y'are an Asse, and i'le not give you a farthing:
ha' you not don't already, shee's so demure.
Alph.
I shall make tryal of the contrary.
Grat.
O good Petrarcha do.
Char.
Speak for your own, she needs his counsel more, if he have any.
Alph.
Suppose (deer Mistris) you were in a garden, where all variety
of fresh flowers did grow, and onely one was dead; would you neglect
the watering those, and hourly dew the bed where this one withered
flower did hang the head: or stick it on your brest for ornament?
Clar.
O no Petrarcha, what infer you hence?
Ful.
This was well urg'd.
Jul.
There's some hopes of this fellow, he can make her speak.
Alph.
Mans but a flower; Alphonso was no more, but one 'mongst
many: and hee's dead:
Clar.
What then.
Will you among so many living flowers that do adorn this
garden of our earth, dote on a withered one, spend this clear water
upon a saplesse stalk, and in your heart give it (I cannot say the chiefest
place) but the sole rule?
Jul.
My Carolo is living, transplanted and growing in another clime.
I'de rather smell to a common pinck of our own then wait for a rose
from Spain, or a French-de-luce. You told me once of breaking my
heart with heigh hoes, I'faith i'le warrant you.
Alph.
Strange alteration!
Char.
Brother you are forgetful of your promise, my husband must
go streight to Lord Fidelio, and stay there two or three days.
Ful.
Blest opportunity! i'le entertain it.
Grat.
Come let's walk in brother, t'will ease our woes to put them off
a little with othrs talk.
Jul.
I, I, let's laugh away care.
Exeunt.
Enter Fulvio and Charmia.
Char.
O brother Fulvio, they that dayly walk in Temples 'mong
the monuments of the dead, some wrought with gold, others as white
as snow; they cannot tell what foulnesse is within: could you have
thought I had been so corrupt, till I laid ope my heart unto your view;
I'm leprous, man, within; an hospital of sinful malladies: all that you
see is painted, counterfeit; would you ha' thought I could ha' wrong'd
my vertuous, noble Lord? and yet heaven knowes I must unwillingly,
and yet me thinks there's no necessity: were I not better dye then wrong
my husband? pray tell me true, good brother Fulvio
Ful.
O Sister I ha' seen a Christal spring, from whose sweet streams
the neighbouring Shepherds fed their flocks, and dogs, and selves; this
has been muddy; think you they would dam up the fountain head for
this? no, let it run, and of it selfe t'will in short time work its corruption
out, and will run clear agen: do not you grieve; to be bad once in
midst of so much good, the world can take no notice on't.
Char.
This world can.
Ful.
And you may live to satisfie that world and finde it work to sum up
your good actions, the least of which shall cover this that's ill. Ile tell
you Sister, y'are not so much friend unto your selfe as I am: I do grant
it is a sin in you, a sin in me, but when I think of the necessity, that you
cannot subsist, if't be not done I look on my offence, as on a curtesie
done to my brother.
Char.
I shall loath the act when it is done: I know I shall.
Ful.
Come, come, nor honour, husband, nor our cause of sorrow
Char.
Heaven and chast Matrons pardon my offence: none ere had
more desire to sin then I, none ere had lesse: I would not what I
would.
Ful.
Sister, till night farewel.
Char.
Why then farewel.
Exeunt severally.
Enter Gratiano and Lurco.
Grat.
Leave me, I thought to ha' gone to Lord Fidelio's and those
Fields a foot, but your report has stayd my journey.
Lur.
Your brother will make you beleeve any thing if you do'nt take
heed: But I will leave your Lordship to your self.
Exit.
Grat.
Could he fetch me ore so cunningly.
Enter Fulvio.
Ful.
Not gone yet brother?
Grat.
No, I was coming to ask you one question first; pray who'es
that Lady that must lye with you?
Ful.
For once i'le tell you, 'tis my Sister your Lady.
Grat.
You do profane her honour, even in supposing that loose desire
could come from her.
Ful.
Nay then, know, She is the woman that I must lye with, you he
I must Cuckold, it ca'nt be otherwise; I know you'l yeild to it, to save
her life: better that I should do it that am your brother, then any other
man, I shall keep counsel: I thought good to tell you, for I was loath
to do't without your leave: I know shee'l love you deerly for this
kindnesse.
Gra.
Is it a brother speaks this? are you Fulvio? sure i'm mistaken.
Ful.
No I am your brother.
Grat.
Then I must tell you you have forg'd a tale, which should it be
recorded to posterity you would be counted fabulous in recounting, and
I a fool in crediting: she false? I rather shall suspect the truth to be
so:
Ful.
O Gratiano, I admire the vertues that shine in Charmia, and will
defend her honour with my blood: Heaven be my witnesse what I
would do; should be to give her ease, not disease you: Consider I'm
your brother, me thinks that name should give me priviledge from the
suspition of disloyalty 'gainst you or her: the least division was never
known betwixt us, but we liv'd rather as one, then two that was alike,
nor were we more admir'd for the similitude of feature, then affection.
Grat.
I do yeild you are my picture, but my wife's my selfe: and I
must trust the substance, not the shadow: you are most like me yet are
it is but counterfeit: prepare, Kingdomes and marriage beds admits
no peer.
Ful.
What mean you?
Grat.
Thus to vindicate her honour whom you have poyson'd
through some secret malice crept in your brest; we must let blood and
purge; the malady is dangerous and will prove the bane of honour.
Ful.
I will not fight with you, come kill me; I will not defend my
selfe; then you may say you had a loyal brother, when you shall see
your heavy Charmia languish and melt into her grave with tears, and
you that should assist, stand and look on and say would I could help thee
Charmia
Grat.
D'ee jeer me? coward, bastard to my blood.
Ful.
Say I'm a coward that deny to fight with you, I do not care, publish
it to the world; I'de rather be an honourable coward, (for so I
shall appear when I am weighed) then a rash combatant: it is meer
weaknesse, not valour makes men fight in private quarrels; he overcomes
an injury that can bear it, not he that cryes to armes at every
word, and challenge the field: th'injury conquers him: but kill me,
do, and when that I am dead, you shall not find a spot of any poyson
lurking within my brest.
Grat.
I'le make you draw.
Beats him.
Ful.
Kill me, and ile endure it: but this basenesse provokes my rage.
He draws, they fight, and Gratiano beats off Fulvio and follows him.
Exeunt.
| The Twins | |