 | The Dvke of Millaine |  |
Scæ. Secund.
Enter Pescara, Tiberio, Stephano.Pesc.
The like was neuer read of.
Steph.
In my iudgement
To all that shall but heare it, 'twill appeare
A most impossible fable.
Tib.
For Francisco,
My wonder is the lesse because there are
Too many Presidents of vnthankefull men
Rays'd vp to greatnesse, which haue after studied
The ruine of their makers.
Steph.
But that melancholy,
Though ending in distraction, should worke
So farre vpon a man as to compell him
To court a thing that has nor sence, nor being,
Is vnto me a miracle.
Pesc.
'Troth I'le tell you,
He fell into this madnesse, When by the care
Of his Physitians he was brought to life,
As he had only pass'd a fearefull dreame,
And had not acted what I grieue to thinke on,
He call'd for faire Marcelia, and being told
That she was dead, he broke forth in extreames,
(I would not say blasphem'd) & cri'd that heauen
For all th'offences that mankind could doe,
Would neuer be so cruell as to rob it
Of so much sweetnesse, & of so much goodnesse,
That not alone was sacred in her selfe,
But did preserue all others innocent
That had but conuerse with her: Then it came
Into his fancie that she was accus'd
By his mother & his sister, thrice he curs'd 'em,
And thrice his desperat hand was on his sword
To haue killd 'em both, but he restrayn'd, & they
Shunning his furie, spite of all preuention
He would haue turn'd his rage vpon himselfe,
When wisely his Physitians looking on
The Dutches wound, to stay his readie hand,
Cry'd out it was not mortall.
Tib.
'Twas well thought on.
Pesc.
He easily beleeuing what he wish'd,
More then a perpetuitie of pleasure
In any obiect else, flatter'd by hope
Forgetting his owne greatnesse, he fell prostrate
At the doctors feet, implor'd their ayd, & swore,
Prouided they recouer'd her, he would liue
A priuat man, & they should share his dukedom.
They seem'd to promise faire, and euerie houre
Varie their iudgements as they find his fit
To suffer intermission, or extreames.
For his behauiour since
As you haue pitty
Within.
Support her gently.
Pesc.
Now be your owne witnesses,
I am preuented.
Enter Sforza, Isab. Mari. the body of Marc. Doctors, Seruants.
Sf.
Carefully I beseech you,
The gentlest touch torments her, & then thinke
What I shall suffer. O you earthy gods,
You second natures, that from your great master
(Who ioyn'd the limbes of torne Hyppolytus,
And drew vpon himselfe the Thunderers enuie)
Are taught those hidden secrets that restore
To life death wounded men, You haue a patient
On whom to'xpresse the excellence of art,
Will bind e'ne heau'n your debtor, though It pleases
To make your hands the organs of a worke
The saints will smile to looke on, & good Angels
Clap their Celestiall wings to giue it plaudits.
How pale and wan she lookes? O pardon me,
That I presume dyde o're with bloody guilt,
Which makes me I confesse, far, far vnworthy
To touch this snow-white hand. How cold it is?
This once was Cupids fire-brand, and still
'Tis so to me. How slow her pulses beat to?
Yet in this temper she is all perfection,
And Mistris of a heat so full of sweetnesse,
The blood of virgins in their pride of youth
Are balles of Snow or Ice compar'd vnto her.
Mar.
Is not this strange?
Isab.
O crosse him not deere daughter,
Our conscience tells vs we haue been abus'd,
Wrought to accuse the innocent, and with him
Are guiltie of a fact—!
Ent. a seruant
Mar.
'Tis now past helpe.
With me? What is he?
Ser.
He has a strange aspect,
A Iew by birth, and a Physitian
By his profession as he sayes, who hearing
Of the Dukes phrensie, on the forfeit of
His life will vndertake to render him
Perfect in euery part. Prouided that
Your Lordships fauour gaine him free accesse,
And your power with the Duke a safe protection,
Till' the great worke be ended.
Pesc.
Bring me to him,
As I find cause I'le doe.
Exe. Pesc. & Ser.
Sfor.
How sound she sleepes!
Heauen keepe her from a lethergie; how long
(But answere me with comfort I beseech you.)
Do's your sure iudgement tell you that these lids
That couer richer iewells then themselues
Li'ke enuious night will barre these glorious sunnes
From shining on me?
1. Doct.
We haue giuen her Sir,
A sleepy potion that will hold her long,
That she may be lesse sensible of the torment,
The searching of her wound will put her to.
2. Doct.
Shee now feeles litle, but if we should make her,
To heare her speake would fright both vs and you,
And therefore dare not hasten it.
Sf.
I am patient,
You see I doe not rage, but waite your pleasure.
What doe you thinke she dreames of now? for sure
Although her bodies organs are bound fast,
Her fancy cannot slumber.
1. Doct.
That Sir, lookes on
Your sorrow for your late rash art with pitty
Of what you suffer for it, and prepares
To meet with free confession of your guilt
Forza.
Shee was euer kind
And her displeasure though call'd on, short liu'de
Vpon the least submission. O you powers
That can conuey our thoughts to one another
Without the end of eies, or eares, assist me,
Let her behold me in a pleasing dreame,
Thus on my knees before her (yet that duty
In me is not sufficient) let her see me
Compell my mother (from whom I looke life)
And this my sister, Partner of my being,
To bow thus low vnto her, let her heare vs
In my acknowledgement freely confesse
That we in a degree as high are guilty,
As she is innocent; bite your tongues, vile creatures,
And let your inward horror fright your soules
For hauing belide that purenesse, to come neere which
All women that posterity can bring forth
Must be, though striuing to be good, poore Riualls.
And for that dog Francisco (that seduc'd me
In wounding her to raise a temple built
To Chastitie and sweetnesse) let her know
I'll follow him to hell, but I will find him,
And there liue a fourth fury to torment him.
Then for this cursed hand and arme that guided
The wicked steele, I'll haue them ioynt by ioynt,
With burning irons seard of, which I will eate.
I being a vultur fit to tast such carrion,
Lastly.
1. Doct.
You are too lowd, Sir, you disturbe
Her sweet repose.
Forza.
I am hush'd, yet giue vs leaue
Thus prostrate at her feet, our eies bent downewards,
Vnworthy, and asham'd to looke vpon her,
T' expect her gracious sentence.
Hee's past hope.
1. Doct.
The body to, will putrifie, and then
We can no longer couer the imposture.
Tibe.
Which in his death will quickly be discouer'd
I can but weepe his fortune.
Steph.
Yet be carefull,
You loose no minute to preserue him, time,
May lessen his distraction.
Franc.
I am no God Sir.
Ent. Pesca. Fran. Eugen.
To giue a new life to her, yet I'le hazard
My head, I'le worke the sencelesse trunke t' appeare
To him as it had got a second being,
Or that the soule that's fled from't were call'd backe,
To gouerne it againe, I will preserue it
In the first sweetnesse, and by a strange vaper
Which I'le infuse into her mouth, create
A seeming breath, I'le make her vaines run high to
As if they had true motion.
Pesc.
Doe but this,
Till we vse meanes to win vpon his passions
T' indure to heare shee's dead with some small patience
And make thy owne reward.
Franc.
The art I vse
Admits no looker on, I only aske
The fourth part of an hower to perfect that
I boldly vndertake.
Pesc.
I will procure it.
2. Doct.
What stranger's this?
Pesc.
Sooth me in all I say
There is a maine end in't.
Frans.
Beware.
Euge.
I am warn'd.
Pesc.
Looke vp Sir chearefully, comfort in me
Flowes stronglie to you.
Forza.
From whence came that sound?
I rise and ioy will giue me wings to meet it.
Pes.
Nor shall your expectation be deferrd
But a few minuts, your Physitians are
Meere voice, and no performance, I haue found
A man that can do wonders, do not hinder
The Dutches wisht recouery to inquire,
Or what he is, or to giue thankes, but leaue him
To worke this miracle.
Sf.
Sure, 'tis my good Angell,
I do obey in all things; be it death
For any to disturbe him, or come neere
Till he be pleasd' to call vs, ô be prosperous
And make a Duke thy Bondman.
Exe. all but Franc. & Eugenia.
Franc.
Tis my pupose
If that to fall a long wisht sacrifice
To my reuenge can be a benefit.
I'll first make fast the dores, soe.
Euge.
You amaze me
What followes now?
Franc.
A full conclusion
Of all thy wishes, looke on this Eugenia,
Eu'n such a thing, the proudest faire on earth
(For whose delight the elements are ransack'd
And art with nature studies to preserue her)
Must be when she is summond to appeare
In the Court of death, but I loose time.
Euge.
What meane you?
Franc.
Disturbe me not, your Ladiship lookes pale
But I, your Docter, haue a ceruse for you,
See my Eugenia, how many faces
That are ador'd in Court borrow these helpes,
And passe for excellence, when the bettet part
Of them are like to this, your mouth smells soure to,
But here is that shall take away the sent,
When they would kisse, knowing their gummes are rotten:
These hands to, that disdaind' to take a touch
From any lip, whose honour writ not Lord
Are now but as the coursest earth, but I
Am at the charge, my bill not to be paid to
To giue them seeming beauty, soe tis done
How do you like my workmanship?
Eugen.
I tremble
And thus to tirannize vpon the dead
Is most inhumane.
Franc.
Come we for reuenge,
And can we thinke on pitty? now to the vpshott,
And as it proues applaud it. My lord the Duke
Enter with ioy, and see the suddaine chance
Your seruants hand hath wrought.
Ent. Forza and the rest.
Forza
I liue againe
In my full confidence that Marcelia may
Pronounce my pardon. Can she speake yet?
Franc.
No,
You must not looke for all your ioyes at once,
That will aske longer time.
Pesca.
Tis wondrous strange!
Forza.
By all the dues of loue I haue had from her,
This hand seemes as it was when first I kist it,
These lips inuite to, I could euer feed
Vpon these roses, they still keepe their colour
And natiue sweetnesse, only the nectar's wanting
That like the morning dew in flowry May
Preseru'd them in their beauty.
Enter Graccho
Grac.
Treason, treason.
Tiber.
Call vp the guard.
Franc.
Graccho! then we are lost.
Gracc.
I am got off, Sir Iew, a bribe hath done it
For all your serious charge; ther's no disguise can keepe
Forza.
Speake.
Gracc.
I am out of breath,
But this is.
Franc.
Spare thy labor foole, Francisco.
All.
Monster of Men.
Franc.
Giue me all attributes
Of all you can imagine, yet I glory
To be the thing I was borne, I am Francisco,
Francisco that was rais'd by you,
And made the Minion of the time
The same Francisco,
That would haue whor'd this trunke when it had life,
And after breath'd a iealousie vpon thee
As killing as those damps that belch out plagues,
When the foundation of the earth is shaken;
I made thee doe a deed heauen will not pardon
Which was to kill an innocent.
Forza.
Call forth the tortures
For all that flesh can feele.
Franc.
I dare the worst,
Only to yeeld some reason to the world
Why I pursud' this course, looke on this face
Made old by thy base falshood, 'tis Eugenia.
Forza.
Eugenia.
Franc.
Do's it start you Sir? my Sister,
Seduc'd and fool'd by thee, but thou must pay
The forfet of thy falshod, do's it not worke yet?
What ere becomes of me (which I esteeme not)
Thou art mark'd for the graue, I haue giuen thee poison
In this cup, now obserue me, with thy last
Carowsing deeply of, made thee forget
Thy vow'd, faith to Eugenia.
Pesc.
O damn'd villaine!
Isab.
How do you Sir?
Like one,
That learnes to know in death what punishment;
Waites on the breath of faith, ô now I feele
An Ætna in my entrailes, I haue liu'd
A Prince, and my last breath shalbe commaund
I burne, I burne, yet er'e life be consum'd
Let me pronounce vpon this wretch all torture
That witty cruelty can inuent.
Pesc.
Away with him.
Tibe.
In all things we will serue you.
Franc.
Farewell sister,
Now I haue kept my word, torments I scorne,
I leaue the world with glory, they are men
And leaue behind them name and memory,
That wrong'd doe right themselues before they die.
Ste.
A desperate wretch.
Exe. guard with Franc.
Forza.
I come death, I obey thee,
Yet I will not die raging, for alas,
My whole life was a phrensie. Good Eugenia
In death forgiue me, As you loue me beare her
To some religious house, there let her spend
The remnant of her life, when I am ashes
Perhaps shee'll be appeas'd, and spare a prayer
For my poore soule. Bury me with Marcelia
And let our Epitaph be—
Tibe.
His speech is stop'd.
Steph.
Already dead.
Pesc.
It is in vaine to labour
To call him backe, wee'll giue him funerall,
And then determine of the state affaires
And learne from this example ther's no trust
In a foundation that is built on lust.
Exeunt.
| The Dvke of Millaine | |