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Scæna secunda.

Enter Malefort solus.
Malef.
I have playd the foole, the grosse foole, to believe
The bosome of a friend will hold a secret,
Mine owne could not containe, and my industry
In taking liberty from my innocent daughter,
Out of false hopes of freedome to my selfe,
Is in the little helpe it yeelds me, punish'd.
Shee's absent, but I have her figure here,
And every grace, and rarity about her,
Are by the pencill of my memory
In living colours paynted on my heart.
My fires too, a short interim closd up
Breake out with greater fury. Why was I
Since 'twas my fate, and not to be declin'd
In this so tender consciencd? say I had
Injoyd what I desir'd, what had it beene
But incest? and there's something here that tels me
I stand accomptable for greater sinnes,
I never checkd at: neither had the crime
Wanted a præsident. I have read in story
Those first great Heroes that for their brave deeds
Were in the worlds first infancie stil'd gods,
Freely enjoyd what I deny my selfe.
Old Saturne in the golden age embraced
His sister Ops and in the same degree
The thunderer Juno, Neptune, Thetis, and
By their example after the first deluge
Deucalion Pirrhæ. Universall nature
As every day tis evident allowes it
To creatures of all kinds. The gallant horse
Covers the Mare to which he was the sire,
The bird with fertile feed gives new encrease


To her that hatchd him. Why should envious man then
Brand that close act which adds proximity
To whats most neere him, with the abhorred title
Of incest? or our later lawes forbid
What by the first was granted? let old men
That are not capeable of these delights
And solemne superstitions fooles prescribe
Rules to themselves, I will not curbe my freedome
But constantly go on, with this assurance,
I but walke in a path which greater men
Have trod before me. ha this is the fort,
Open the gate. Within there.

Enter two Souldiers with Muskets.
1 Sould.
With your pardon
We must forbid your entrance.

Mal.
Doe you know me?

2 Soul.
Perfectly my Lord.

Mal.
I am this Captaines friend.

1 Sould.
It may be so, but till we know his pleasure
You must excuse us.

2. Sould.
Wee'l acquaint him with
Your waiting here.

Mont.
Waiting slave, he was ever
By me commanded.

1. Sould.
As we are by him.

Montr.
So punctuall, pray you then in my name intreat
His presence.

2 Sould.
That we shall doe.

Exeunt Souldiers.
Mal.
I must use
Some strange perswasions to worke him to
Deliver her, and to forget her vowes,
And horrid oaths I in my madnesse made him.
Take to the contrary, and may I get those
Once more in my possession, I will beare her
Into some close cave, or desert, where wee'l end
Our lusts and lives together.

Enter Montrevile and souldiers.
Montr.
Faile not, on


The forfeit of your lives to execute
What I commanded.

Mal.
Montrevile, how is't friend?

Mont.
I am glad to see you weare such chearefull lookes,
The worlds well altred.

Mal.
Yes I thanke my stars.
But me thinks thou art troubled.

Mont.
Some light crosse,
But of no moment.

Mal.
So I hope, beware
Of sad and impious thoughts, you know how far
They wrought on me.

Mont.
No such come neere me sir.
I have like you no daughter, and much wish
You never had been curs'd with one.

Ma.
Who I?
Thou art deceiv'd, I am most happy in her.

Mont.
I am glad to heare it.

Mal.
My incestuous fires
Towards her are quite burnt out, I love her now
As a father, and no further.

Mont.
Fix there then
Your constant peace, and doe not try a second
Temptation from her.

Mal.
Yes friend though shee were
By millions of degrees more excellent
In her perfections, Nay though she could borrow
A forme Angelicall to take my fraylty
It would not doe, and therefore Montrevile
(My chiefe delight next her) I come to tell thee
The governour and I are reconcil'd,
And I confirm'd, and with all possible speed
To make large satisfaction to young Beaufort,
And her whom I have so much wrong'd, and for
thy trouble in her custody, of which
Ile now discharge thee, there is nothing in
My nerves or fortunes, but shall ever be


At thy devotion.

Montr.
You promise faintly,
Nor doubt I the performance, yet I would not
Hereafter be reported, to have beene
The principall occasion of your falling
Into a relaps, or but suppose out of
The easinesse of my nature, and assurance
You are firme, and can hold out, I could consent:
You needs must know there are so many lets
That make against it, that it is my wonder
You offer me the motion, having bound me
With oathes and imprecations on no termes,
Reasons, or arguments, you could propose,
I ever should admit you to her sight,
Muchlesse restore her to you.

Male.
Are we souldiers, and stand on othes?

Montr.
Tis beyond my knowledge
In what we are more worthy, then in keeping
Our words, much more our vowes.

Malef.
Heaven pardon all,
How many thousands in our heate of wine,
Quarrels and play, and in our younger daies
(In private, I may say) betweene our selves
In points of love, have we to answer for,
Should we be scrupulous that way.

Montr.
You say well,
And very aptly call to memory
Two oathes against all ties and rites of friendship
Broken by you to me.

Malef.
No more of that.

Montr.
Yes tis materiall, and to the purpose
The first (and think upon't) was when I brought you
As a visitant to my mistresse then, the mother
Of this same daughter, whom with dreadfull words
Too hideous to remember, you swore deepely
For my sake never to attempt, yet then,
Then, when you had a sweet wife of your owne,


I know not with what arts, philtres, and charmes,
(Unlesse in wealth and fame you were above me)
You won her from me, and her grant obtain'd,
A marriage with the second wayted on,
The buriall of the first (that to the world
Brought your dead son) this I sate tamely down by,
Wanting indeed occasion and power
To be at the height revenged.

Malef.
Yet this you seem'd
Freely to pardon.

Montr.
As perhaps I did.
Your daughter Theocrine growing ripe,
(Her mother too deceas'd) and fit for marriage
I was a suitor for her, had your word
Upon your honour, and our friendship made
Authenticall, and ratified with an oath,
Shee should be mine, but vowes with you being like
To your religion, a nose of wax
To be turn'd every way, that very day
The governours sonne but making his approaches
Of Courtship to her, the winde of your ambition
For her advancement scatter'd the thin sand
In which you wrot your full consent to me,
And drew you to his party. What hath pas'd since
You beare a register in your owne bosome
That can at large informe you.

Malef.
Montrevile
I doe confesse all that you charge me with
To be strong truth, and that I bring a cause
Most miserably guilty, and acknowledge
That though your goodnesse made me mine owne judge.
I should not shew the least compassion,
Or mercy to my selfe. O let not yet
My foulenesse taint your purenesse, or my falshood
Divert the torrent of your loyall faith.
My ills, if not return'd by you, will adde
Lustre to your much good, and to orecome


With noble sufferance will expresse your strength,
And triumph ore my weaknesse. If you please to
My blacke deeds being onely knowne to you,
And in surrendring up my daughter buried:
You not alone make me your slave (for I
At no part doe deserve the name of friend)
But in your owne brest raise a monument
Of pitty to a wretch on whom with justice
You may expresse all cruelty.

Mont.
You much move me.

Mal.
O that I could but hope it to revenge
An injurie is proper to the wishes
Of feeble women, that want strength to act it:
But to have power to punish, and yet pardon
Peculiar to Princes, see these knees,
That have beene ever stiffe to bend to heaven
To you are supple, Is there ought beyond this
That may speake my submission? or can pride
(Though I well know it is a stranger to you)
Desire a feast of more humility
To kill her growing appetite?

Mont.
I requir'd not
To be sought to this poore way, yet tis so far
A kind of satisfaction that I will
Dispence a little with those serious oaths
You made me take, your daughter shall come to you,
I will not say as you deliverd her,
But as she is you may dispose of her
As you shall thinke most requisite.
Exit Montrevile.

Mal.
His last words are riddles to me.
Here the lyons force
Would have prov'd uselesse and against my nature
Compeld me from the Crocodile to borrow
Her counterfeit teares, ther's now no turning backward,
May I but quench these fires that rage within me,
The souldiers thrust forth Theocrine, her garments loose, her haire disevled.
And fall what can fall, I am arm'd to beare it,

2 Sould.
You must be packing.



Theo.
Hath he rob'd me of
Mine honour, and denies me now a roome
To hide my shame?

2 Sould.
My Lord the Admirall
Attends your Ladiship.

1. Sould.
Close the port, and leave em.

Exeunt souldiers.
Mal.
Ha! who is this? how alter'd! how deform'd!
It cannot be. And yet this creature has
A kinde of a resemblance to my daughter,
My Theocrine! but as different
From that she was, as bodies dead are in
Their best perfections, from what they were
When they had life and motion.

Theo.
Tis most true sir,
I am dead indeed to all but misery.
O come not neere me sir, I am infectious,
To looke on me at distance is as dangerous
As from a pinacles cloud-kissing spire,
With giddy eyes to view the steepe descent
But to acknowledge me a certaine ruine.
O sir.

Mal.
Speake Theocrine, force me not
To farther question, my feares already
Have chok'd my vitall spirits.

Theo.
Pray you turne away
Your face and heare me, and with my last breath
Give me leave to accuse you. What offence
From my first infancie did I commit
That for a punishment you should give up
My Virgin chastity to the trecherous guard
Of Goatish Montrevile?

Mal.
What hath he done?

Theo.
Abus'd me sir by violence, and this told
I cannot live to speake more: may the cause
In you finde pardon, but the speeding curse
Of a ravish'd maid fall heavie, heavie on him,
Beaufort my lawfull love, farewell for ever.

She dies.


Malef.
Take not thy flight so soone immaculate spirit.
Tis fled already, how the innocent
As in a gentle slumber passe away,
But to cut off the knotty thred of life
In guilty men, must force sterne Atropos
To use her sharpe knife often. I would helpe
The edge of hers with the sharpe point of mine
But that I dare not die, till I have rent
This dogs heart peecemeale. O that I had wings
To scale these walls, or that my hands were Canons
To bore their flinty sides, that I might bring
The villaine in the reach of my good sword,
The Turkish Empire offer'd for his ransome
Should not redeeme his life. O that my voice
Were loud as thunder and with horrid sounds
Might force a dreadfull passage to his eares,
And through them reach his soule, libidinous monster
Foule ravisher, as thou durst doe a deed
Which forc'd the Sun to hide his glorious face
Behinde a sable Masque of clouds appeare,
And as a man defend it, or like me
Shew some compunction for it.

Montrevile above the curtaine, suddenly drawn.
Montr.
Ha, ha, ha.

Malef.
Is this an object to raise mirth?

Montr.
Yes, yes.

Malef.
My daughter's dead.

Mont.
Thou hadst best follow her,
Or if thou art the thing thou art reported,
Thou shoulst have led the way. Doe teare thy haire
Like a village nurse, and mourn while I laugh at thee.
Be but a just examiner of thy selfe
And in an equall ballance poise the nothing
Or little mischiefe I have done compard
With the ponderous weight of thine, and how canst thou
Accuse or argue with me? mine was a rape
And she being in a kinde contracted to me,


The fact may challenge some qualification:
But thy intent made natures selfe run backward,
And done, had caus'd an earth-quake.

A souldier above.
1. Sold.
Captaine.

Montr.
Ha,

2. Sold.
Our outworkers are surpriz'd, the centinell slaine,
The corps du garde defeated too.

Montr.
By whom?

1. Sold.
The sudden storme and darknesse of the night
Forbids the knowledge, make up speedily,
Or all is lost.

Montr.
In the divels name, whence comes this!

They descend.
Mal.
Doe, doe, rage on, rend open Æolus
Thy brazen prison, and let loose at once
A storme.
Thy stormy issue blustring Boreas,
Aided with all the gales, the Pilot numbers
Upon his compasse, cannot raise a tempest
Through the vast region of the ayre, like that
I feele within me: for I am possess'd
With whirle-winds, and each guilty thought to me is
A dreadfull Hurricano; though this centre
Labour to bring forth earthquake, and bell open
Her wide stretch'd jawes, and let out all her furies,
They cannot adde an atome to the mountaine
Of feares and terrors that each minute threaten
To fall on my accursed head. Ha, is't fancie?
Enter the Ghost of young Malefort, naked from the wast, full of wounds, leading in the shadow of a Ladie, her face lepreus.
Or hath hell heard me, and makes proofe if I
Dare stand the tryall? yes, I doe, and now
I view these apparitions I feele,
I once did know the substances. For what come you?
Are your aeriall formes depriv'd of language,
And so deni'd to tell me? that by signes


You bid me aske here of my selfe? tis so
The Ghosts use severall gestures.
And there is somthing here makes answer for you.
You come to launce my sear'd up conscience? Yes,
And to instruct me, that those thunderbolts,
That hurl'd me headlong from the height of glory,
Wealth, honours, worldly happinesse, were forg'd
Upon the anvile of my impious wrongs
And cruelty to you? I doe confesse it;
And that my lust compelling me to make way
For a second wife, I poison'd thee, and that
The cause (which to the world is undiscover'd)
That fortc'd thee to shake off thy filiall duty
To mee thy father, had it's spring and sourse
From thy impatience to know thy mother,
That with all duty, and obedience serv'd me
(For now with horror I acknowledge it)
Answer'd still by signes.
Remov'd unjustly: yet thou being my sonne,
Were't not a competent judge mark'd out by heaven
For her revenger, which thy falling by
My weaker hand confirm'd. Tis granted by thee.
Can any penance expiate my guilt?
Or can repentance save me? they are vanish'd.
Exeunt Ghosts.
What's left to doe then? I'll accuse my fate
That did not fashion me for nobler uses:
Or if those starres crosse to me in my birth,
Had not deni'd their prosperous influence to it
With peace of conscience like to innocent men,
I might have ceas'd to be, and not as now,
To curse my cause of being.

He's kill'd with a flash of lightning.
Enter Belgarde with souldiers.
Belg.
Here is a night
To season my silkes. Buffe-jerkin, now I misse thee,
Thou hast endur'd many foule nights, but never
One like to this; how fine my feather looks now!
Just like a Capons taile stolne out of the pen


And hid in the sinke, and yet 't had beene dishonour
To have charg'd me without it, wilt thou never cease,
Is the petarde, as I gave directions, fasten'd
On the portcullis?

Another Sold.
It hath beene attempted
By divers, but in vaine.

Belg.
These are your gallants,
That at a feast take the first place, poore I,
Hardly allow'd to follow; marry in
These foolish businesses they are content
That I shall have precedence, I much thanke
Their manners, or their feare; second me Souldiers,
They have had no time to undermine, or if
They have, it is blowing up, and fetching
A caper or two in the ayre, and I will doe it,
Rather then blow my nailes here.

Sold.
O brave Captaine!

Exeunt.
An alarum, noise and cryes within, a flourish.
Enter Beaufort senior: Beaufort junior: Montagne: Chamont: Lanour: Belgarde: Montrevile: Souldiers.
Montr.
Rackes cannot force more from me then I have
Already told you. I expect no favour,
I have cast up my accompt.

Beauf. sen.
Take you the charge
Of the fort, Belgarde, your dangers have deserv'd it.

Belg.
I thanke your excellence, this will keepe me safe yet
From being pull'd by the sleeve, and bid remember
The thing I wot of.

Beauf. jun.
All that have eyes to weepe,
Spare one teare with mee. Theocrine's dead,

Montr.
Her father too lies breathlesse here, I thinke,
Strucke dead with thunder.

Cham.
'Tis apparent: how
His carkase smells.



Lan.
His face is alter'd to
Another colour.

Beauf. jun.
But here's one retaines
Her native innocence, that never yet
Call'd downe heavens anger.

Beauf. sen.
Tis in vaine to mourne
For what's past helpe. We will refer bad man
Your sentence to the King: may we make use of
This great example, and learne from it, that
There cannot be a want of power above
To punish murther, and unlawfull love.

Exeunt omnes.