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Scena 1.
Enter Timoclea sola.Timo.
Hell and ye furies wheresoere you be,
show me your tortures, and present your selues
Or let the burning monarch clad in flame,
Make an infernall eccho to my name.
Loue-slighted and contemned: O my wish!
That like the crosse-eyd witch of Thessaly
My voice could through the riuets of the earth
Hollo and call reuenge: or rather: what?
My dangerous ghost attir'd like Nemesis
About her middle for a virgin Zone
Girt with a forckt-tooth'd serpent, vent at my brest
That did exceed a stepdame in my lust.
Forbeare yet gentle maide; thy fathers soule
Kneels at the brazen Throne of Radamanth
And craues that office: Whither am I borne?
Dispaire, thou art a false glasse to the soule,
And in the conscience dazeld with thy guilt
Of many sinnes, dost vary formes of feare.
I not belieue thy forc'd suggestions,
I am seduc'd by passion: death and terror.
Borg.
Error,
within.
Timo.
False aire thou liest I erre not: my loues wronge
Ile teare out of my brest: forget those hopes
Made my hands bloody: I am cleare: vnstaind:
Borg.
Staind:
Timo.
Forbeare thy thunder gentle, gentle voice,
Beate not my conscience torments gainst the walls,
To make the Court ring with thy clamorous answers:
Heauens let my teares redeeme me vnto life.
Borg.
Life.
Timo.
Of my terror: I desire not: speake of death.
Borg.
Death.
Timo.
Of my daughter: how easie through the aire
Our sinnes are hurried: thou canst tell of murder.
Borg.
Murder.
Timo.
I of my husband: night thy cole-blacke wings
Though darker then the Moones ecclipsed browe
Are not fit Canopies for sinne.
Borg.
Timoclea.
Timo.
Distraction of my soule, who breathes my name:
Borg.
The airy breath of him that sometime liu'd
A tenant in the brest of Borgias,
By thee driuen out the frame and house of life.
Timo.
By me
Borg.
And now like one whome sterne oppression throwes
Nak'd out of all he did possesse: being robd and spoild
Of the warme couert he inhabited,
I sigh my helpelesse wrongs, and in the aire
Counting all hope I had, find all dispaire.
Timo.
Dispaire.
Borg.
And empty longings for an end of paine,
Which I still wish and craue.
Timo.
But neuer gaine.
Borg.
Neuer.
Timo.
Forgiue me.
Borg.
Aske it of the heauens,
To whom my blood with ceasseles clamours calls
For Iustice and reuenge.
Timo.
Iustice in heauen is like my sin gainst thee
Cruell: and sooner may I with my knees
Eate through the center: from these pearly eyes
Should there fall downe more teares of penitence
Then the clouds drop to purchase a newe spring
I could not be forgiuen.
Borg.
Death is the winter dombd vnto thy soule
Disrobe it of that warme and wanton flesh,
The mouth of Iustice bids Timoclea dye.
Timo.
Be thou then iustice executioner
Reuengefull spirit: in this flesh of mine
Carue thy reuenge in carracters of blood
Let loose some coniur'd tempests: whose lowd stormes
Driuen through the ayre sings horror to the world,
And let them hurle me gainst the labouring clowdes
Sinke to the brazen-gated deepe Abisse,
Where furies sit curling their snakes in knots,
And pull a viper from Alectos head,
And on these breasts that in thy heat of life,
Haue bene as pillowes to aduance thy lust
Let it sucke freely: the Ægiptian Queene
Nere dyed more daring.
And to the sterne commissioners of blood,
Be a glad Hermes: tell them, Timoclea
Takes vengeance on her selfe: dull Element be gone.
Borg.
The mornings saffron horse breathes from the East
Their spicy vapors, suckt from th'ndian plaines
And through the gentle ayre hurle their perfumes.
I heare the Suns steedes trot towards the milky way,
And in a Coach of flames draw vp the day:
Aurorat vsher to the starres of night,
Tels the approching of the God of light:
They gin to twinckle and take in their fires
At their ecclipse we spirits leaue the aire,
And in a dismall vale of darkenesse grone,
Vnder the burthen of a thousand chaines:
I must away, thou onely dost detayne me,
With want of vengeance, which thy death must gaine me.
Tim.
It shall, it shall:
Hard hap of misery, it hath many hands,
That like the windings of a laborinth,
Leads the despayring wretch into a maze:
But not an Ariadne in the world,
That lends a clewe to led vs out the world.
The very maze of horror.
Cease thou that stands first mouer of the Spheres
Deriue successiue motion.
Stand ye night-wandring planets in a maze,
And from your hollow Fabricks vewe Timoclea,
Or else ye heauens put in your flaring lights,
And on your azure-seiled arches hang
A rauen-blacke Canopy of congealed cloudes
That you may seeme a Chaos to the world,
And boade eternall darkenes: thou wert not made to kill,
Lookes on her haire displayed.
Nor was the Diademe of her Ponticke Queene
Made as a fatall instrument of death,
And yet it was the engine stop her breath
As thou must mine. Soule of Borgias
Thus to thy ghost I sacrifice my life,
To buy thy requiem.
Borg.
I accept it wise.
He strangles her with her owne haire.
And thus returne the fall of Borgias.
Nay nay repent not deere Timoclea,
Y'are caught in faith: then like a Lyonesse
Snar'd in the wary hunters tangled toyles,
Grinde the thin aire: swell higher till thou burst,
And let the breath that like a vapour prest
Struggle within thy bosome, hurle the vp.
Soft—the time spends fast, & I haue much to thinke of
Before the tell-tale god displaies his light,
To shewe the world the horror of this night.
First for thy death the lustfull Turke must dye,
My riuall in the loue of Iulia.
Him Ile accuse for murdring thee. The Dukes
Because his claime may alienate my hopes
Him in my accusation I will ioyne
As ioynt coagent in the Turke deuises.
As for that rumour of faire Iulias death,
(Who now detaines her) will transfer the falsehood,
As if my selfe had bene by him deluded:
These mazes when like Theseus I haue trod.
Fortune shall spread her wings to make me sailes,
And with a strong ayre cut the angry tide,
That into mountaines swels to stay my pride.
Hah! what heauy noise beates through my eares?
Hang heauy Morpheus on the eies of men,
And make suspition sleepe.
Enter Philenzo and Phego.
Philen.
The rumours strange I pray possesse me with your
propper knowledge.
Phego.
You shall vnderstand Sir, that according to my function,
giuing neere attendance to my Lady, she being feruently
imployed in the Lobby, about a mixture or composure of (as we
vulgarly tearme it) a posset: vpon our first entrance, ere we had
relisht the sweete of her sweete, that is the fruit of her labors, we
were suddainely assayled by a she-goblin: to describe it Sir I am
not able, for my eye-sight turn'd inward to looke after my heart
that was running from my heeles, yet thankes to the lancknesse
of my calfe they made reasonable haste.
Borg.
Heart of all mischiefe see the Court is vp,
Hell and the darkenes keepe me from their sight.
Philen.
At midnight did Ferrara leaue his chamber,
Heauens be his safety.
Phego.
A ghost a ghost.
Exit Borgias
Philen.
Pursue it where it goes: feare shall not stop me.
Followe me sir, Ile speake to it, though death
Ceaze on my life: it shall not loose mine eies
Vnlesse it sincke into the earth.
Exit.
Phego.
S'foot my office is italianated, I am faine to come behinde.
Bord.
Was euer man thus distracted betweene the flesh and
the spirit? s'foot this Pill hath so fiered my mansion that vnlesse
I light on some water-worke, I shall loose the raines like a second
Phaeton, and burne my Fabricke. Surely I am that Tantalus the
hungry Poets talke of, and am as dry as an Eele in a sand-bagge,
and yet want water for the reaching: Let me see, why should I
feare spirits that haue raised vp such an able one at my pleasure,
that like a bold Orator stands on tip-toes to speake in Barre:
and yet me thinkes he should be no good pleader, he was so
suddenly deiected and out of countenance with an apparition.
I would the case were laid open, that I might see how my young
mooter would bestir himselfe: Ha: who is this? no more ghosts
I hope: if it be it is the more womanlie of the two. She lyes as
if she knewe the end of her creation. On my life some wayting
mayde that hath a Court Epilepsie come vpon her: Ile see if
she fome at the mouth. Out & alas, the heauens haue conspired
poore Bordellos ouerthrowe. The vertuous Timoclea wretched
and most accursed hands, that haue trust vp my fortunes in thy
Elfe-knot.
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