University of Virginia Library

ACTUS QUINTUS.

Scena Prima.

Aramant, Antonio, and Trebutio.
Ara.
Nay, it is true.

Anto.
It is the strangest storie
That e're I heard, to haue a woman, young,
In her cheife height of pride, arm'd with a beautie
Wo'd giue ambition life, refuse a prince,
And one of his worth—if this be no fable,
I'le be converted, and confesse, I haue
Abused the sex.

Treb.
But put the case, shee loues you;
You meet a danger in depriuing of
The duke of his desires, equall to death.

Ara.
Were it as certaine as the hand of Fate,
I wo'd incounter it. This life is poore,
And wants as much of true felicitie,
As there is hell to be depriued of her;
Lett danger meet mee in the ruggedst way,
Her lookes will smooth it.

Anto.
Well, wee'le venture wi' yee,
And beare some share of losse in this great ruine:
You shall not sinke alone.

Ara.
But Gratus sayes,
Hee'le stand betwixt vs and the prince's anger,
And beare the waight of all.

Anto.
That's as strange too,
A miracle to mee: to haue a stranger,
Bound by no tie of dutie or allyance,
Vnknowne, but in this act, ingage himselfe
To an apparent ruine; 'tis a wonder
Ages of time produce not, and I thinke it
Rather some plott for your distruction.

Ara.
Come what will come, I'le venture! Time drawes on
That wee must meet.

Treb.
Go then, and bee as happie,
As thou art confident.

Anto.
Wee will fall with thee.

Exeunt.

Scena Secunda.

Enter Emilia and Millecert.
Emil.
Cloris, thou neuer more shalt trouble vs.
Now shee is dead, the duke will bury with her
All his affection. Where's the breathles trunke?

Mille.
I threw it downe into a precipice,
Where it shall neuer rise 'till the last summons.

Emil.
There lett her rest, while I prepare myselfe
For this great entertaynment; I do feele
My blood, like to a swelling streame, rise high,
And time is dull, that binds it.

Mille.
I am thinking
What wee shall answere to excuse the murder,
If the duke should find out you are not Cloris.

Emil.
Tell him shee 'skapt away. Where are thy spirits?

Mille.
I am prepar'd—Make readie Cloris' bed,
And fitt yourselfe; the duke will straite bee heere.

Emil.
Leaue that to mee.
Exit Emilia.

Mille.
What horrid nature strain'd
This mortall fury into humane shape?
The soule of that blest innocent her sister
Had fled to ayre by a strong venomb'd poison,
If my preuention had not bene as actiue
As her abhor'd intent.

Enter Aramant, Antonio, and Trebutio.
Ara.
Here hee is—Gratus,
Where is my Cloris?

Mille.
You are come as wisht for;
The time is ripe—Come forth thou starr of beautie
From that obscuritie, and tell the world,
Enter Cloris.
They wander much, that doe not fixe on thee—
Shift for yourselues now, I haue done my part.

Ara.
What will become of thee?

Mille.
No matter what.

Ara.
How shall I recompence thy loue? What merrit
Can equall thy deserving?

Mille.
'Tis a dutie
You may claime from mee; I do but requite you:
And yett I hope it is the better change.

Millecert discouers.
Ara.
My brother!

Anto.
Millecert!

Treb.
'Tis strange!

Ara.
I'me poore,
And shall dye wretched to the world, before
I find a gratitude to equall this.
I am thy double debtor; thou did'st pay mee
In thy repentance, I did wish no more:
The land, thou didst restore, did burthen mee;
But this act layes so great a waight vpon mee,
That, in my happines, I am but miserable.

Mille.
Doe not afflict your selfe soe, for my ioy,
That I haue made you this small recompence,
Is equall vnto yours, if not exceeds it:
Make mee not sadd agen in trifling out
The time in words—Away!

Ara.
I will not budge
A foot without thee. Shall I leaue my brother,
Nay more my freind, expos'd to the duke's furie
For mee, and I in safetie? What shield,
What armor can defend my name from infamie?

Mille.
You'le loose yourselfe elce, for I must stay heere
To keepe the duke from the adulterate sheetes
Of foule Emilia. You 'scapt well, madame;
Shee thinks you dead.

Clo.
And so indeed I had bene,
Had not you showne more worth, then I find merrit.

Mille.
Pray you be gon—The duke's time is approaching.

Ara.
I shal bee loathsome to the eyes of men,
If I forsake thee. Goe with my freinds,
My dearest Cloris; I will suffer with him.

Clo.
And so will I with you.

Mille.
I'me sorry now,
I did disclose myselfe.

Anto.
Come, bee aduis'd.

Mille.
Sir, I beseech you, vrge him. My disguize
May further my escape; and if I liue,
Within this hower you shall not faile to find mee
At Aubin's cloister.

Anto.
Take his word.

Ara.
Farwell;
And if you come not then, expect mee heere.

Exeunt.
Mille.
'Tis now about the time the duke appointed
To meet his ioyes; but I must arme myselfe
Against his furie, for I will preuent
Emilia's lust, and, may bee, shun the danger
Of his displeasure. Danger cannot fright,
Vnlesse black guiltines putts out the light.

Exit.

Scena Tertia.

Emilia, with a vaile on her face, lying on a bed.
Enter Duke and Millecert.
Duke.
Gratus, thou bring'st mee to my happines,
And I shall find out thine. Waite there without.
Exit Millecert.
Shee sleepes! What harmeles innocence abides
In this faire mansion, where no horrid crimes
Flutter with bloodie wings, to dissipate
The soule's sweet quiet? Heere soft calmenes dwells,
And all the pleasures poets' wandering fancies
Haue framed in Elyzium. If my loue
Did not pertake of passion more then reason,
I should esteeme it happines enough
To gaze vpon her thus.

Emil.
Who's there? my lord?

Duke.
It is thy freind, and loue, my gentle Cloris.

Emil.
Oh, sir! I dare not looke abroad: the light
Wo'd but betray my blushes; do not glorie
In a maid's weakenes, though I be your conquest.

Duke.
Bright day shall tell the world, that thou deseru'st
To raise posteritie vnto a dukedome.

Emil.
Create mee what you please.

Enter Millecert.
Mille.
Where is the duke?
Cloris is murdred, murdred, poison'd
By this inhumane woman heere, her sister.

Duke.
What rage is this?

Emil.
The villaine will betray all!

Mille.
It was her plott to gett your highnes' leaue
To visett her for hate, not loue; and heere
Shee exercised her pois'ning art, that shee
Might take her place in your desired imbraces;
Shee wo'd be dutches; shee's in loue with honor;
And promis'd mee, if I wo'd giue assistance
To her vnchast ends, I should reape some fruits
In this great haruest; there is noe limite
To her vnbounded lust. I hope this shame
And feare will worke on her.

Aside.
Duke.
What fury's this?
Vnshroud thyselfe thou night-rauen; do not fill
My soule with prodigies—Where is my Cloris?

Emil.
O, I am guiltie—Shee is dead, but I
Liue to bee miserable!

Duke.
Then thou hast rob'd mee
Of all my happines at once. Did Nature
In her rich treasurie frame such perfection
For barbarous suffering? Breake out, my teares!
And giue her passage to those happie shades,
Where blessed soules abide; shee goes to tell vs,
There was no difference 'twixt heauen's winged traine
And her vnspotted innocence, but this,
That diuells cannot hurt them; but to her
They haue bene too, too cruell.

Mille.
If my brother
Were not ingag'd in this, the duke's great passion
Wo'd moue mee to disclose all.

Duke.
Hold my hand
Misguided Reason, least thy iniured rage
Sho'd make thee breake, and spend thy furie on
This wicked woman; but the edge of justice
Shall fall with all its waight vpon her head.

Mille.
I haue ingag'd myself too farr; her ruine
Must not succeed by this; there is a way,
That may recouer all yett.

Duke.
Who's without there?
Enter Busiro, Seruius, and Tonsus.
Busiro, Seruius, all come in, and bring
Teares in your eyes, or if they haue no moisture,
Lett 'em drop out, for shame they could not pay
A tribute to such pittie.

Busi.
What's the matter?

Duke.
Cloris is dead! my prittie Cloris, poison'd;
And by her cruell sister.

Busi.
Shame of woman!

Duke.
Nay, 'tis a shame to all humanitie,
That shee should suffer thus. Why sho'd not goodnes
For euer dwell among vs? 'Tis vniust,
That the same instrument of death sho'd strike
The good, and badd. Is there no better gard,
No more defence for vertue? Then the vertuous
Subsist with disadvantage, for they neuer
Attempt such wicked crimes. But where's the bodie?
Goe, fetch the bodie hether, that I may
Embalme it with my teares; there is no drugg,
Noe incense like true sorrowe.

Mille.
I am now
Put to my shifts; what shall I say? My lord,
I haue another accusation
Against the lord Busiro, that requires
A present hearing.

Duke.
Why d'yee trouble mee?
Heere is enough of this; this is a storie
Will rob mee of all pittie, and insence
My mind to crueltie in future actions.

Mille.
But this is worse.

Duke.
It is impossible;
Hell cannot find a horror to produce
An act soe vile as this. Search the black booke
Of sullen Fate, where crimes are character'd,
Just as they are committed, freshe and bleeding,
And in that burning catalogue you cannot
Example this.

Mille.
Yett, doe but heare mee speake.

Duke.
Bee breife then in thy speech, and fright mee not
With deathes and murders; lett thy tougne speake comfort.

Busi.
Wilt thou betray mee, slaue?

Mille.
No; it is treason,
If I conceale such mischeife—Had you not
A daughter cal'd Bellaura?

Duke.
Yes; shee died,
Going from Chalon castle to Besancon,
Of an impostume, being but a child.

Mille.
This cruell and hard-harted man Busiro,
Toutcht with the guilt of conscience, did confesse
To mee, he hir'd a slaue to make away
That prittie innocent.

Busi.
Heauen, thou art iust!
Vrge me no further, sir; I did it.

Duke.
Yes—
Torture shall wring from thee, what was the cause,
That did provoke thy black and bloodie soule
To such a sin.

Busi.
Hee knowes all—lett him speake it.

Mille.
My lord, hee told mee, he was much addicted
To diuination, and did striue to know
Th'euents of things, soe that he did converse
With witches, sorcerers, astrologers,
Which calculated men's natiuities,
And as they did oppose his ends, they suffred.
Among the rest, a witch told him, Bellaura
Sho'd bee his ruine, if she liu'd, which made him
Attempt this crueltie, telling your highnes,
Shee dyed of an impostume by the way.

Duke.
Haue you more greife to add to my dispaire?
Giue me a third, and bring this feeble flesh
To find a graue out. Where are all your witchcrafts,
Your incantations now? The deuill's cunning,
All his inventions are deceites; hee told you,
That, if shee liu'd, shee should be your distruction;
And shall shee not bee soe too, in her death?
Will Heauen hide murder?

Busi.
O my gilt!

Emil.
And mine!

Duke.
Heere are a paire of the most cursed creatures,
That euer earth bred. Search the wildernes,
Whose rugged pathes are tract with horrid shapes,
More vgly and deformed then the tougnes
Of trauellers could e're deuise to make 'em,
And theise are monsters to 'em; theise haue soules,
That make 'em much more wretched. Slaue, haue I
Protected thee against the iust complaints
Of my wrong'd subjects? Now I must beleeue
Thy smiles were crimes, what were thy cruelties?
Call for a guard—Wee will giue sentence.

Enter Guard.
Mille.
Hold—
I must now take the ruine on myselfe
Aside.
To saue her from distruction that doth hate mee.

Duke.
Why dost thou bid mee hold?

Mille.
Do not proceed
To sentence yett: th'intent is not the act—
Cloris yett liues.

Duke.
Where is shee?

Mille.
Shee is gon.

Duke.
Thou told'st mee, that Emilia poison'd her.

Mille.
And soe shee had, if my preuention
Had not bene quick and cunning.

Emil.
Blessed hower!
Thou didst deceyue mee? Wo'd, my tears co'd wash
My crimes away.

Mille.
I like that sorrow well.

Duke.
Thou trifflest with mee, but to raise myne anger,
And make the waight the greater. Where is Cloris?
Find her agen, or if there be a torment,
That may exceed the sence, thy soule shall feele it.

Mille.
You cannot fright mee, sir; I am resolu'd.
Enter Antonio, Trebutio, Aramant, and Cloris.
My brother come and Cloris! then I must
Aside.
Discouer all.

Ara.
Wee heard you were ingaged,
Which made vs hast.

Mille.
Heere is your louely Cloris.

Duke.
'Tis shee indeed. Art thou aliue agen,
Thou greatest blessing of the world! The wealth,
And treasure that men toyle for, is a triffle
Compar'd to thee. Heere I do hold a iewell,
That princes shall not purchase with their teares.
I'le bee thy keeper now myselfe; no hands,
With harts more barbarous, shall graspe this sweetnes,
But soft and gentle touches, such as loue
From his owne store alowes.

Mille.
Brother, feare not. Cloris,
The streame will turn agen.

Duke.
No poisons now,
Noe, not the venombe of a tougne shall touch
Thy hallowed name; thou shalt be plac'd aboue
The reach of black-iaw'd mallice. Hold, my breast!
Containe my happines! When I behold thee,
I feele a ioy, that reuells in my blood.
Thy countenance doth harbor such a comfort,
That it doth take away from all the greife
My soule can bee possest of.

Anto.
Heere's small hope,
Me'thinks, for Aramant.

Treb.
I n'ere saw lesse.

Duke.
Heere stands a guiltie one, as full of sinne,
As mischeife can deuise. Thou shalt be iudge,
If that I haue not cause to cut this vlcer
That grew so nere my heart—Proceede to iustice.

Mille.
Hold once agen!

Duke.
Thy voice is omenous.

Mille.
It brings sweet comfort now.

Duke.
O, speake it then,
And make my ioy exceede my greife, for yett
They are in equall ballance.

Mille.
The faire Cloris
Is not Emilia's sister, but Bellaura.

Duke.
How know'st thou this?

Mille.
By circumstance, yet now
Fully confirm'd in't; for Emilia
Thinking to blast the loue you bore to Cloris,
And turne it on herselfe, out of the rancor
And mallice of her mind, told mee, this ladie
Was but an outcast, not her sister: howe
Her father found her, being a litle child,
Within the groues of Cloris, and Busiro
Did there expose the sweet Bellaura:
It seemes, the slaue hee sent had not the heart
To murder her. The times I haue computed,
And they hitt iust; and you may find more signes,
That may confirme it.

Duke.
Is this true?

Emil.
This scarff was found about her, and some other things
Which I haue still preseru'd.

Duke.
If it bee shee,
There is a strange blew marke vpon her arme—
'Tis shee! the wiser powers sett this print on thee
Knowing thy hard fate. This is my Bellaura.
This scarff too was thy mother's; I remember it:
It was—it was—my daughter! My Bellaura!
I knew there was some secrett, hidden vertue
Forc'd mee to loue thee. Wilt thou still bee Cloris?
Or my Bellaura? Which shall I loue best?
My blessing on thee!

Clo.
The same force of loue
Wrought in my breast, for I did honor you
With as much zeale, as dutie could inforce
From an obedient child.

Duke.
Thou did'st expresse it.
Millecert discouers.
But why did'st thou conceale this from mee? Millecert!

Emil.
My much abused husband! with what shame
Can I behold him?

Busi.
All the powers of vertue
Reward thee for thy newes.

Mille.
When I had found it,
I purposed to conceale it, 'till my brother
Had maryed Cloris, for I fear'd your highnes
Might otherwise preuent it.

Duke.
T'had bene death to abuse mee soe.

Mille.
That co'd not fright mee, sir,
So I did satisfie my brother's wrongs.

Anto.
Heere is some change.

Treb.
This may goe well.

Duke.
Bellaura
Is the heire of princes, and shee must find out
A nobler husband.

Clo.
Sir, lett mee kneele heere,
She kneels.
And growe for euer at your feet, to begg
I may be still an outcast. Do not make mee
Happie by such aduancement, and so soone
Depriue mee of all ioy! lett me not bee,
If not bee Aramant's.

Duke.
You must bee rul'd.

Clo.
Lett mee not lay a blemish on our sex;
Man shall not haue th'aduantage to condemne
All women for Inconstancie; I lou'd him,
Intirely lou'd him, when I was but Cloris,
And I must loue him, though I bee Bellaura—
Speake comfort to mee.

Duke.
Rise.

She rises.
Treb.
Heere's a sweet soule.

Anto.
Women, I am a'your side now.

Ara.
My lord,
The truth that I shall speake will but appeare
Vaine glorie in mee, if I tell the world,
There is no drop of blood within theise veines,
But run from noble fountaines—Yet my worth
Cannot deserue Bellaura, 'tis your goodnes—

Duke.
No more. Thou hast bene wrong'd, and now I find
The heauenly powers do point the out this blessing
To recompence thy suffrings; therefore take her,
And all the deare ioyes love afford light on yee.

All.
And sweet peace crowne your vertues.

Duke.
For this wretch
Myne anger bates its edge. I'le ha' no blood
Spilt at theise nuptialls; yett the deuill's fallacie
Shall hold in this: Bellaura's borne to bee
Thy ruine, living; soe shee had bene too,
If thou hadst murdred her: theise subtilties
Delude abused soules, that loue to follow
Forbidden pathes. Thy life is sau'd by banishment,
But all thy goods the lawes shall seize vpon;—
And for you, ladie, I do wish, you could
Find a repentance.

Emil.
I will seek't with teares,
And in those liquid streames bath this foule body
To make it white agen. Farewell for euer!
First to my iniur'd husband; then to all!
I'le creepe into some cloister, where you neuer
Shall see mee more; there lett me find your charitie,
I cannot hope your pardon, (though no act
Hath stain'd my soule with guilt). If you do heare
I die a penetent, let fall a teare
In pittie of mee, and my greiued spirit
Will rest in peace.

Anto.
If this bee fiction toe,
It is well acted.

Treb.
Nay, shee's now in earnest.

Duke.
Emilia, wee will all be suitors for thee,
And make this a new mariage. Try her, Millecert;
Repentance neuer comes to late.

Ara., Clo.
Deare brother,
Make this a day of ioy.

All.
Wee all do begg it.

Mille.
Come, my Emilia;
With as much loue, as when our first thoughts mett,
Doe I imbrace thee; dry thy blubberd eyes,
For through those christall casements I do see,
Thou hast a greiued soule.

Emil.
I must retire;
My faults will blush to looke vpon the light.

Mille.
Thou shalt not goe, vnles thou quit'st thy goodnes;
For when such pearly iewells deck thyne eyes,
Thou art a fitt companion for the saints.
I'le loue the better for thy being lost.

Emil.
But dare you trust mee?

Mille.
Yes.

Emil.
Then you shall see
A reform'd life, and a strange change in mee.

Ara.
Sweet peace attend yee—Now, my noble freinds,
That quit not freindship in aduersitie,
I may requite your loues.

Anto., Treb.
Wee are your seruants.

Clo.
And, sister, I must thinke of honest Lauia:
Nay, wee are sisters still.

Emil.
O dearest ladie!

Anto.
But what's become of my fine speaking lord?
You went to visit him.

Treb.
Why, hee is safe;
Romilia, and hee, I thinke, will neuer part.

Enter Pantarbo in a thin garbe, Romilia following.
Serv.
Is not this hee?

Anto.
'Tis hee, or elce his ghost.

Pant.
This spirit hants mee. O, for some neat beadle
With charmes to lay her downe. There's not a mite
Of marrow in my bones left—O, my back—

Rom.
I'le back your lordship, ne're a freind you haue
Will back yee soe.

Pant.
Y'haue made a colt of mee,
And tir'd mee too, broke mee of all my tricks,
And you may lead mee now in a twine-thrid.
O—O—my back!

Duke.
Who's this?

Anto.
The lord Pantarbo.

Duke.
Hee is much chang'd.

Anto.
Hee keepes a vaulting schole,
And come to showe his merri-trix.

Busi.
My shame.

Pant.
Nay, father; I haue trod your very steps;
What sonne co'd bee more dutifull? now help mee,
Or I am lost.

Rom.
My lord, I sue for iustice;
Hee is my husband, ioyn'd by all loue's rights,
And now hee wo'd vntie the knott.

Anto.
With reuerence!

Duke.
Pantarbo, is it soe?

Pant.
I must confesse,
I had some speeches, that did treat of loue,
Which I did speake to her in ieast; shee vrging
My large professions, I was forc'd—

Duke.
To marry her?

Pant.
'Twas some such thing.

Duke.
'Tis pittie then to part yee.
But you must vse your trade no more, vnlesse
You haue a supersedeas for the whip—
Take councell of that old man.

Pant.
Wicked women—

Rom.
Come husband, cheare vp; wee will driue a trade on't
Shall gett a liuing.

Duke.
Take away Busiro,
And lett his wise sonne and his daughter ioy
In such a father. Wee will clense the court
Of all theise locusts. Gentlemen, your loues
Shal be requited. Thou art honest, Millecert,
And hast return'd thy brother double interrest
For all his wrongs; thy land shal be restor'd thee.
I will prouide for theise, the onely hope
And pleasure of my life—May your faire branches
Florish for euer, that the memorie
Of vertue ne're may want an heire. You, ladie,
Haue bene inconstant, therefore now indeuer
A reformation—Better late than neuer.