University of Virginia Library

Scæ. Tert.

Enter Sforza, Pescara, three Gentlemen.
Pesc.
You promis'd to be merrie.

1. Gentlem.
There are pleasures
And of all kinds to entertaine the time.

2. Gentlem.
Your excellence vouchsafing to make choice
Of that, which best affects you.

Sf.
Hold your prating.
Learne manners too, you are rude.

3. Gentlem.
I haue my answere,
Before I aske the question.

Pesc.
I must borrow
The priuiledge of a friend, and will, or else


I am, like these, a seruant, or what's worse,
A parasite to the sorrow, Sforza worships
In spite of reason.

Sf.
Pray you vse your freedome,
And so farre, if you please, allow me mine,
To heare you only, not to be compel'd
To take your morall potions. I am a man,
And thogh philosophy your mistrisse rage for't,
Now I haue cause to grieue, I must be sad,
And I dare shew it.

Pesc.
Would it were bestow'd
Vpon a worthier subiect.

Sf.
Take heed, friend.
You rub a sore, whose paine will make me mad,
And I shall then forget my selfe and you.
Lance it no further.

Pesc.
Haue you stood the shock
Of thousand enemies, and out-fac'd the anger
Of a great Emperor, that vowed your ruine,
Though by a desperate, a glorious way,
That had no president? Are you return'd with honor,
Lou'd by your subiects? Does your fortune court you,
Or rather say, your courage does command it?
Haue you giu'n proofe to this houre of your life,
Prosperitie (that searches the best temper)
Could neuer puffe you vp, nor aduerse fate
Deiect your valor? Shall I say, these vertues,
So many and so various trials of
Your constant mind, be buried in the frowne
(To please you I will say so) of a faire woman?
Yet I haue seene her equals.

Sf.
Good Pescara,
This language in another were prophane,
In you it is vnmannerly. Her equall?
I tell you as a friend, and tell you plainly


(To all men else, my Sword should make reply)
Her goodnesse does disdaine comparison,
And but her selfe admits no paralell.
But you will say she's crosse, 'tis fit she should be
When I am foolish, for she's wise, Pescara,
And knows how farre she may dispose her bounties,
Her honour safe: or if she were auerse,
'Twas a preuention of a greater sinne
Readie to fall vpon me, for she's not ignorant
But truly vnderstands how much I loue her,
And that her rare parts doe deserue all honour,
Her excellence increasing with her yeeres to,
I might haue falne into Idolatry,
And from the admiration of her worth,
Bin taught to think there is no power aboue her,
And yet I doe beleeue, had Angels sexes,
The most would be such women, and assume
No other shape, when they were to appeare
In their full glorie.

Pesc.
Well Sir, I'le not crosse you,
Nor labour to diminish your esteeme
Hereafter of her, since your happinesse
(As you will haue it) has alone dependance
Vpon her fauour, from my Soule, I wish you
A faire attonement.

Sf.
Time, and my submission
Ent. Tib. & Steph.
May worke her to it. O! you are well return'd,
Say, am I blest? hath she vouchsaf'd to heare you?
Is there hope left that she may be appeas'd?
Let her propound, and gladly I'le subscribe
To her conditions.

Tib.
She Sir, yet is froward,
And desires respite, and some priuacie.

Step.
She was harsh at first, but ere we parted, seem'd not
Implacable.



Sf.
Ther's comfort yet, I'le ply her
Each houre with new Embassadors of more honors,
Titles, and eminence. My second selfe
Francisco, shall sollicit her.

Steph.
That a wise man,
And what is more, a Prince, that may command,
Should sue thus poorely, and treat with his wife,
As she were a victorious enemie,
At whose proud feet, himselfe, his State, and Countrey,
Basely beg'd mercie.

Sf.
What is that you mutter?
I'le haue thy thoughts.

Steph.
You shall, you are too fond,
And feed a pride that's swolne too bigge alreadie,
And surfeits with obseruance.

Sf.
O my patience!
My vassall speake thus?

Steph.
Let my head answere it
If I offend. She that you thinke a Saint,
I feare may play the Diuel.

Pesc.
Well said old fellow.

Steph.
And he that hath so long ingross'd your fauours,
Though to be nam'd with reuerence, Lord Francisco,
Who as you purpose, shall sollicite for you,
I think's too neere her.

Pesc.
Hold Sir, this is madnesse.

Steph.
It may be they conferre of winning Lordships,
I'me sure he's priuate with her.

Sf.
Let me goe,
I scorne to touch him, he deserues my pittie,
And not my anger, dotard, and to be one
Is thy protection, els thou durst not thinke
That loue to my Marcella hath left roome
In my full heart for any Iealous thought,
That idle passion dwell with thick-skind Trades-men,


The vndeseruing Lord, or the vnable,
Lock vp thy owne wife foole, that must take physicke
From her young Doctor, phisicque vpon her backe
Because thou hast the palsey in that part
That makes her actiue, I could smile to thinke
What wretched things they are that dare be iealous,
Were I match'd to another Messaline,
While I sound merit in my selfe to please her:
I should beleeue her chast, and would not seeke
To find out my owne torment, but alas,
Inioying one that but to me's a Dion,
I'me too secure.

Tib.
This is a confidence
Ent. Grac. Isab. Mar.
Beyond example.

Grac.
There he is, now speake,
Or be for euer silent.

Sf.
If you come
To bring me comfort, say, that you haue made
My peace with my Marcelia.

Isab.
I had rather
Waite on you to your funerall.

Sf.
You are my mother,
Or by her life you were dead else.

Mar.
Would you were,
To your dishonor, and since dotage makes you
Wilfully blind, borrow of me my eyes,
Or some part of my spirit. Are you all flesh?
A limbe of patience only? No fire in you?
But doe your pleasure, here your Mother was
Committed by your seruant (for I scorne
To call him husband) and my selfe your sister,
If that you dare remember such a name,
Mew'd vp to make the way open and free
For the Adultresse, I am vnwilling
To say a part of Sforza.



Sf.
Take her head off,
She hath blasphem'd, and by our Law must dye.

Isab.
Blasphem'd, for calling of a whore, a whore?

Sf.
O hell, what doe I suffer?

Mar.
Or is it treason
For me that am a subiect, to endeuour
To saue the honour of the Duke, and that
He should not be a Wittall on record.
For by posterie 'twill be beleeu'd
As certainly as now it can be prou'd,
Francisco the great Minion, that swayes all,
To meet the chast embraces of the Dutches,
Hath leap'd into her bed.

Sf.
Some proofe vile creature,
Or thou hast spoke thy last.

Mar.
The publique fame,
Their hourely priuate meetings, and euen now
When vnder a pretence of griefe or anger,
You are deny'd the ioyes due to a husband,
And made a stranger to her, at all times
The dore stands open to him. To a Dutchman
This were enough, but to a right Italian,
A hundred thousand witnesses.

Isab.
Would you haue vs
To be her bawdes?

Sf.
O the mallice
And enuie of base women, that with horror
Knowing their owne defects and inward guilt,
Dare lye, and sweare, and damne, for what's most false,
To cast aspersions vpon one vntainted,
Y'are in your natures deuils, and your ends
Knowing your reputation sunke for euer,
And not to be recouer'd, to haue all,
Weare your blacke liuerie. Wretches, you haue rays'd
A Monumentall trophy to her purenesse,


In this your studied purpose to depraue her,
And all the shot made by your foule detraction
Falling vpon her sure-arm'd Innocence,
Return's vpon your selues, and if my loue
Could suffer an addition, I'me so farre
From giuing credit to you, this would teach me
More to admire & serue her, you are not worthy
To fall as sacrifices to appease her,
And therefore liue till your own enuy burst you.

Isab.
All is in vaine, he is not to be mou'd.

Mar.
She has bewitcht him.

Pesc.
'Tis so past beliefe,
To me it shewes a fable.

Ent. Franc. & a seruant.
Franc.
On thy life
Prouide my horses, and without the Port
With care attend me.

Seru.
I shall my Lord.

Ex. seru.
Grac.
He's come.
What ümmercracke haue we next?

Franc.
Great Sir.

Sf.
Francisco,
Though all the ioyes in woman are fled from me
In thee I doe embrace the full delight
That I can hope from man.

Franc.
I would impart,
Please you to lend your eare, a waightie secret,
I am in labour to deliuer to you.

Sf.
All leaue the roome, excuse me good Pesc.
Ere long I will waite on you.

Pesc.
You speake Sir
The language I should vse.

Sf.
Be within call,
Perhaps we may haue vse of you.

Tib.
We shall Sir.

Sf.
Say on my comfort.



Franc.
Comfort? No, your torment,
For so my fate appoints me, I could curse
The houre that gaue me being.

Sf.
What new monsters
Of miserie stand readie to deuoure me?
Let them at once dispatch me.

Franc.
Draw your sword then,
And as you wish your own peace, quickly kil me,
Consider not, but doe it.

Sf.
Art thou mad?

Franc.
Or if to take my life be too much mercy,
As death indeed concludes all human sorrowes,
Cut off my nose and eares, pull out an eye,
The other only left to lend me light
To see my owne deformities: Why was I borne
Without some mulct impos'd on me by nature?
Would from my youth a lothsome leprosie
Had runne vpon this face, or that my breath
Had been infectious, and so made me shun'd
Of all societies: curs'd be he that taught me
Discource or manners, or lent any grace
That makes the owner pleasing in the eye
Of wanton women, since those parts which others
Value as blessings, are to me afflictions,
Such my condition is.

Sf.
I am on the racke,
Dissolue this doubtfull riddle.

Franc.
That I alone
Of all mankind that stand most bound to loue you,
And studie your content should be appointed,
Not by my will, but forc'd by cruell fate
To be your greatest enemie, not to hold you
In this amazement longer, in a word,
Your Dutches loues me.

Sf.
Loues thee?



Franc.
Is mad for me,
Pursues me hourely.

Sf.
Oh!

Franc.
And from hence grew
Her late neglect of you.

Sf.
O women! women!

Franc.
I labour'd, to diuert her by perswasion,
Then vrg'd your much loue to her, & the danger,
Denyd her, and with scorne.

Sf.
'Twas like thy selfe.

Franc.
But when I saw her smile, then heard her say,
Your loue and extreme dotage as a Cloke
Should couer our embraces, and your power
Fright others from suspition, and all fauours
That should preserue her in her innocence,
By lust inuerted to be vs'd as bawdes,
I could not but in dutie (though I know
That the relation kils in you all hope
Of peace hereafter, and in me 'twill shew
Both base and poore to rise vp her accuser)
Freely discouer it.

Sf.
Eternall plagues
Pursue and ouertake her, for her sake
To all posteritie may he proue a Cuckold,
And like to me a thing so miserable
As words may not expresse him, that giues trust
To all deceiuing women, or since it is
The will of Heauen to preserue mankind,
That we must know, & couple with these serpents,
No wiseman euer taught by my example
Hereafter vse his wife with more respect
Then he would doe his Horse that do's him seruice,
Base woman being in her creation made
A slaue to man, but like a village nurse
Stand I now cursing, and considering when


The tamest foole would doe? Within there, Stephano,
Tiberio, and the rest, I will be suddaine,
And she shall know and feele loue in extreames,
Abus'd knowes no degree in hate.

Ent. Tib. Step. Guard
Tib.
My Lord.

Sf.
Goe to the Chamber of that wicked woman.

Steph.
What wicked woman, Sir?

Sf.
The deuill my wife.
Force a rude entry, and if she refuse
To follow you, drag her hither by the hayre
And know no pittie, any gentle vsage
To her will call on cruelty from me
To such as shew it, Stand you staring! Goe,
And put my will in act.

Steph.
Ther's no disputing.

Tib.
But 'tis a tempest on the suddaine rays'd,
Who durst haue dreamt of?

Ex. Tib. Steph.
Sf.
Nay, since she dares damnation,
I'le be a furie to her.

Franc.
Yet great Sir,
Exceed not in your furie, she's yet guiltie
Only in her intent.

Sf.
Intent Francisco?
It does include all fact, and I might sooner
Be won to pardon treason to my Crowne,
Or one that kil'd my Father.

Franc.
You are wise,
And know what's best to doe, yet if you please
To proue her temper to the height, say only
That I am dead, and then obserue how farre
She'le be transported. I'le remoue a little,
But be within your call: now to the vpshot,
How e're I'le shift for one.

Ex. Franc.
Enter Tiberio, Stephano, Marcelia, Guard.
Marc.
Where is this Monster?


This walking tree of Iealousie, this dreamer,
This horned beast that would be? O are you here Sir?
Is it by your commandement or allowance,
I am thus basely vs'd? Which of my vertues,
My labours, seruices, and cares to please you
(For to a man suspitious and vnthankefull,
Without a blush I may be mine owne trumpet)
Inuites this barbarous course? Dare you looke on me
Without a seale of shame?

Sf.
Impudence,
How vgly thou appear'st now? Thy intent
To be a whore, leaues thee not blood enough
To make an honest blush, what had the act done?

Marc.
Return'd thee the dishonor thou deseruest
Though willingly I had giuen vp my selfe
To euerie common letcher.

Sf.
Your chiefe minion,
Your chosen fauourite, your woo'd Francisco,
Has deerely pay'd for't, for wretch, know he's dead,
And by my hand.

Marc.
The bloodyer villaine thou,
But 'tis not to be wonder'd at, thy loue
Do's know no other obiect, thou hast kil'd then
A man I doe professe I lou'd, a man
For whom a thousand Queenes might well be riuals,
But he (I speake it to thy teeth) that dares be
A Iealous foole, dares be a murtherer,
And knowes no end in mischiefe.

Sf.
I begin now
stabs her.
In this my Iustice.

Marc.
Oh, I haue fool'd my selfe
Into my graue, and only grieue for that
Which when you know, you haue slaine an Innocent
You needs must suffer.

Sf.
An Innocent? Let one


Call in Francisco, for he liues (vile creature)
Ex. Steph.
To iustifie thy falshood, and how often
With whorish flatteries thou hast tempted him,
I being only fit to liue a stale,
A bawd and propertie to your wantonnesse.

Ent. Steph.
Steph.
Signior Francisco Sir, but euen now
Tooke horse without the Ports.

Marc.
We are both abus'd,
And both by him vndone, stay death a little
Till I haue cleer'd me to my Lord, and then
I willingly obey thee. O my Sforza,
Francisco was not tempted, but the Tempter,
And as he thought to win me shew'd the warrant
That you sign'd for my death.

Sf.
Then I beleeue thee,
Beleeue thee innocent too.

Marc.
But being contemn'd,
Vpon his knees with teares he did beseech me
Not to reueale it, I soft-hearted foole
Iudging his penitence true, was won vnto it.
Indeed the vnkindnesse to be sentenc'd by you
Before that I was guiltie in a thought,
Made me put on a seeming anger towards you,
And now behold the issue, as I do,
May heauen forgiue you.

dyes.
Tib.
Her sweet soule has left
Her beauteous prison.

Steph.
Looke to the Duke, he stands
As if he wanted motion.

Tib.
Griefe hath stopt
The organ of his speech.

Steph.
Take vp this body
And call for his Physitians.

Sf.
O my heart-strings.