 | Revenge For Honour |  |
Scen. 2.
Enter Caropia and Perilinda.Car.
Your Lord is not returned yet!
Per.
No, good Madam:
pray do not thus torment your self, the Prince
(I warrant you) wil have no injurie
by saving of your honour; do you think
his father wil be so extreme outragious
for such a trifle, as to force a woman
with her good liking?
Car.
My ill boding soul
beats with presages ominous. Would heaven
I'd stood the hazard of my incens'd Lords furie,
rather then he had run this imminent danger.
Could you ne're learn, which of the slaves it was
betray'd our close loves to loath'd Mura's notice?
Per.
No indeed could I not; but here's my Lord,
pray Madam do not grieve so!
Enter Mur.
Mu.
My Caropia,
dress up thy looks in their accustom'd beauties,
cal back the constant spring into thy cheeks,
that droope like lovely Violets, o're charg'd
with too much mornings dew; shoot from thy eies
a thousand flames of joy. The lustful Prince,
that like a foul thief, rob'd thee of thy honour
by his ungracious violence has met
his roial fathers Justice.
Car.
Now my fears
carry too sure an augury! you would fain
sooth me, my Lord, out of my floud of sorrows;
what reparation can that make my honour,
though he have tasted punishment?
Mu.
His life
is faln the off-spring of thy chastitie,
which his hot lust polluted: nay, Caropia,
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applied to his lascivious eies; although
at first he did with impudence acknowledg
thy rape, he did invade thy spotless virtue,
protested, only 'twas to save thy honor,
he took on him thy rape, when with consent
and not constrain'd, thou yeildedst to the loosness
of his wild vicious flames.
Car.
Could he be so unjust, my Lord?
Mu.
He was, and he has paid for't;
the malicious Souldier, while he was a losing
his eies, made violent head to bring him reskue, which
pul'd his ruine on him. But no more
of such a prodigie; may his black memorie
perish even with his ashes. My Caropia,
the flourishing trees widow'd by winters violence
of their fair ornaments, when 'tis expir'd once,
put forth again with new and virgin freshness,
their bushie beauties; it should be thy emblem.
Display agen those chast immaculate glories,
which the harsh winter of his lust had wither'd;
and I'll agen be wedded to thy vertues,
with as much joy, as when thou first inrich'd me
with their pure maiden beauties. Thou art dul,
and dost not gratulate with happie welcoms,
the triumphs of thy vengeance.
Car.
Are you sure, my Lord, the Prince is dead?
Mu.
Pish, I beheld him breathlesse.
Take comfort best Caropia, thy disgrace
did with his loath'd breath vanish.
Car.
I could wish though,
that he had falne by your particular vengance,
rather then by th'laws rigor; you're a Souldier
of glorie, great in war for brave performance:
me thinks't had been far nobler, had you call'd him
to personal satisfaction: had I been
your husband, you my wife, and ravished by him;
my resolution would have arm'd my courage
to've stroke him thus: The dead Prince sends you that.
Stab him
Mu.
O, I am slain!
Car.
Would it were possible
to kil even thy eternitie. Sweet Prince,
how shal I satisfie thy unhappie ruins!
Ha, not yet breathlesse! To increase thy anguish
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more dear to me, then thy foul selfe was odious,
and did enjoy me freely.
Mu.
That I had
but breath enough to blast thee.
Car.
'Twas his brother
(curse on his art) seduc'd me to accuse
him of my rape. Do you groane, prodigie!
take this as my last bountie.
Stab again.
Enter Perilinda.
Per.
O Madam, Madam,
what shal we do? the house is round beset
with Souldiers; Madam, they do sweare they'le tear
my Lord, for the sweet Princes death, in pieces.
Car.
This hand has sav'd
their furie that just labour: yet I'le make
use of their malice, help to convey
him into's Chamber.
Enter Osman, Gasselles, Souldiers.
Gas.
Where is this villain, this traitor Mura?
Car.
Heaven knowes what violence
their furie may assault me with; be't death,
't shall be as welcome, as sound healthful sleeps
to men oppress'd with sicknesse. What's the matter?
what means this outrage?
Os.
Marry, Ladie gay,
We're come to cut your little throat; pox on you,
and all your sex; you've caus'd the noble Princes
death, wild-fire take you fort, weel talk with you
at better leisure: you must needs be ravished!
and could not like an honest woman, take
the curtesie in friendly sort!
Gas.
We trifle:
her husband may escape us. Say, where is he?
or you shall die, ere you can pray
Sold.
Here, here I have found the vallain! what, do you
sleep so soundly? ne're wake more, this for the
Prince, you rogue: let's tear him piecemeale.
Do you take your death in silence, dog!
Car.
You appear indow'd with some humanitie,
you have tane his life; let not your hate last
after death; let me embalm his bodie with
my tears, or kil me with him.
Os.
Now you've said the word,
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Enter Tarifa.
Tar.
Slaves, unhand
the Ladie, who dares offer her least violence,
from this hand meets his punishment. Gaselles,
Osman, I thought you had been better temper'd,
then thus to raise up mutinies. In the name
of Abrahen our now Caliph, I command you,
desist from these rebellious practises,
and quietly retire into the Camp,
and there expect his pleasure.
Gas.
Abrahen Caliph!
There is some hopes then, we shall gaine our pardons:
Long live great Abrahen. Souldiers, slink away,
our vow is consummate.
Car.
O my deare Lord!
Tar.
Be gone.
Os.
Yes, as quietly
as if we were in flight before the foe;
the general pardon at the coronation,
wil bring us off I'me sure.
Tar.
Alas, good Madam!
I'me sorrie that these miseries have faln
with so much rigor on you; pray take comfort:
your husband prosecuted with too much violence
Prince Abilqualit's ruine.
Car.
It appeared so!
what worlds of woes have hapless I given life to,
and yet survive them!
Tar.
Do not with such furie
torment your innocent self. I'me sure the Emperor
Abrahen, wil number't 'mongst his greatest sorrows,
that he has lost your husband. I must give him
notice of these proceedings. Best peace keep you,
and settle your distractions.
Car.
not until
I'me setled in my peaceful urne. This is yet
some comfort to me, 'midst the floods of woes,
that do overwhelm me for the Princes death,
that I reveng'd it safely; though I prize
my life at no more value then a foolish
ignorant Indian does a Diamond,
which for a bead of Jet or glass, he changes:
Nor would I keep it, were it not with fuller,
more noble braverie, to take revenge
for my Lord Abilqualit's timelesse slaughter.
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is held the natural qualitie of our Sex,
nor wil't be hard to practice. This same Abrahen,
that by his brothers ruine weilds the Scepter,
whether out of his innocence or malice,
'twas that perswaded me to accuse him of
my rape. The die is cast, I am resolv'd
to thee my Abilqualit I wil come.
A death for love,'s no death but Martyrdom.
Exit
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