University of Virginia Library

Sce. 3.

Enter Virtusus.
Vir.
Oh thou restrainer of our wilder actions,
Thou that keepst in awe all raging superfluities,
Teaching sobriety to the grossest Epicures,
Could'st thou restrain our wandring imaginations too
Thou wert a Paradice, but they in the obscurest places
Wander most, and in the darkest Caves, where light
Nere yet vouchsaft an entrance, oft will see
A perfect splendor and a full effusion of immateriall Beams
Descending down from an impenitrable postern.
Thoughts are the Devils chiefest Instruments.
The holyest Frier in his seclusest Cell
Oft sins in imagination; The purest Vestall
At the Altar will oft-times fancy a thing unlawfull;
And should that be the utter ruine of Virginity,
Where should we seek it Heavens?

Enter Bermudo and Thesbia.
Thes.
See yonder he is, Great Sir.

Ber.
Thou art a courteous Jayler; He fares
More like a Prince than Prisoner.

Thes.
I love not Sir to triumph over Misery.

Exit.
Ber.
Shepherd, thou hast thy liberty.
The importunate intreaties of Anthrogonus have commanded it.
See now thou goest, and with submissive knees
Be thankfull to his bounty; It is
But a poor gratuity for freedom.

Vir.
I scorn that freedome that is given
Not for desert, but out of curtesie.
Flattery a thraldom is beyond a Prison,
And I abhor it worse; I'le not thank him
Nor Heavens for what's my due sir.

Ber.
Why stubborn fool? What merit lies in thee
Whose just power may chalenge but a favor from him?
It was not thy desert that rais'd this pity,
But his Charity.

Vir.
His duty rather: true goodness
Whensoere he sees oppressed Innocence
Is bound in duty to relieve it.

Ber.
Is Innocence the ground of your presumption?
Shepherd beware lest thy contempt
Kindle a flame that will consume thee.
Thou hast stir'd the embers, without prevention
'Twill be dangerous.

Enter Thesbia.
Thes.
Oh smother it a while, Great Sir; Let it not spend
As yet its violence: He will accept your curtesie,
I know he will; It was not He, it was
His modesty that refus'd it; See how he blushes Sir.
Gentle Shepherd, dye not ingratefull to our bounty;
That crime will blot your former innocence,
And make it seem as loathsome as impiety.
If against me you do conceive this Hate,
Go but with me, and I'le tell you sir
She is not dead, Thesbia is not dead,
And reconcile us two in a perpetuall league of friendship.

Vir.
For once I'le try your cunning.

Ber.
Shepherd choose which you wil have,
A perfect freedom, or a sudden grave.

Vir.
I shall have both in either.

Exeunt Virtusus and Thesbia.
Ber.
Hast thou Bermudo with ambitious wings
Soar'd 'bove the reach of common thoughts?
Have I obtain'd that happiness which proudest envie
Scarce can prye into? And must I stoop
Unto a boyes soft Lure? Surely some holy power
Conceals it self within that pleasant habitation,
Whose awfull noyse freezes my raging appetite,
And turns my fury into Charity.

Enter Fidelio.
Fid.
The hardned Earth made stiffe with winters frost
Views not the Sun with such a full alacrity,
As I your Highness.

Ber.
A lustfull couple joyn'd in loose embraces
Hate not the approaching Morn with such an enmity,
As I your flattery.

Pid.
Believe me Sir I cannot flatter you.
My simple honesty leaves that study unto them
That seek preferment by it: I never hop't
To raise my fortunes by my handsome lying.
The zeal I bear your lawes has arm'd my confidence,
And I do wish I had a thousand unchast Damzels
To present you for a sacrifice.

Ber.
And I do wish if this be true,
I had ten thousand favors to requite thee with.

Fid.
My duty Sir, and not those hopes of recompence
Has bred this hate, which death shall not extinguish,
But my angry Ghost shall hate 'um in Elizium.
The very name of woman is grown odious,
And I abhor a Lovers sighs worse than the ayr
Breathed from infection.

Ber.
Let me contain thee in my arms thou faithfull Champion;
We two will grow together, and be one,
One terror to that foolish passion.

Fid.
I have not earn'd such favor yet.
I would not willingly receive my hire
Before I have deserv'd it: Let your Revenge
Eat of my labors first; I can present you
With a taste, a woman, that dares outface
Impudence it self, who in despight of all your Laws,
And that, which lately I did count
An ornament of woman, blest moestie,
Is turn'd a shameless wooer.

Ber.
If this be true, I'le wear thee here
My better Genius; Long have I soughtout such a one.
To make their sex more odious to my eyes,
But nere till now could find one.
Conscience that food of fools and bane of Greatness
Has abus'd me still, making my subjects
To conceal those crimes, which had they but reveal'd,
My exercis'd severity ere this
Had bred a Hate more deadly to their Sex,
Than raging Dog-dayes, and Platonnick men.
Thou art an honest subject, Shepherd, thou preferst
Thy Kings content before that Bug bear Conscience,
For which, ask any thing, 'tis thine,
Ask Monopolies, I'le seal 'um all, yet do not,
They are the rewards of flattery, and cannot
Equall thy desert.

Fid.
Your favor Sir will far exceed my merit.

Enter Constantina.
Ber.
Hast any witness, Shepherd, of the fact?

Con.
Yes sir, I am his witness;
I know she loves him, Loves him as her soul,
And were there but a thing more dear unto her,
She would love him better.

Fid.
Oh Audacity: This is she.

Ber.
She? Unto what height of impudence are women grown?
Dar'st thou defend thy crime, that thou art grown
So confident?

Con.
I come not Sir for to defend my crime,
Or to expostulate with your Highness, for if I did,
I then would tell you, she that loves most truly
Ought to be thought most modest,
And that affection if but constant does as far
Exceed your chastity, as Chastity, Incontinence.

Ber.
Bold woman! Hast thou forgot thy Sex?

Con.
I think I have, for I cannot dissemble now,
But what I say, proceeds from Truth
Great as thy Tyranny. I flatter not your Highness,
Such common Courtship let them use that are
Affraid to dye; My resolution shall outbrave thy rigor,
Use then thy full Authority.

Ber.
Who waits without?
Enter Guard.
Convey that Strumpet hence, ere that the Night
Sheds Poppeys on the Earth, she dyes.

Con.
Now I shall dye in charity with all
Since thou art mercifull: For this same curtesie Bermudo
Whil'st I live, I'le pray thou may'st repent,
And when I am dead my obsequient Ghost
Shall wait upon thee still to put thee in remembrance.

Ex. Guard with Constantina.
Ber.
Shepherd, this curtesie has fatted my revenge,
My raging fury feeds upon this fuell with a devouring appetite,
And if thou add st not still unto the flame
Vengeance will lack his prey, and feast on me.
Proceed then in thy holy work, and sooner shall each sense
Forget his Organ, than I my pious instrument.

Exit.
Enter Virtusus.
Vir.
Whither so fast Fidelio? How fares it friend?

Fid.
Well.

Vir.
That well sounds ill me thinks.
Is this the joy you give my liberty?
Hadst thou receiv'd thy freedom so,
The calmer Seas when Halcyons breed
Should have appear'd more boysterous than I:
I'de not have frown'd to see thee free,
But if some billows did by chance arise,
I would have turn'd 'um into dancing waves
For joy of thy security.

Fid.
Alas Virtusus, I am glad to find thee safe, but
My afflicted soul cannot express the joy.
Oh seest not my heart sweld with revenge
Extend my stretch't out sides, and can'st thou hope
For any thing but frowns?

Vir.
Thy looks I must confess declare a Passion,
But of what nature I am ignorant.

Fid.
If thou hast lost thy penetrating eye,
Look upon my face, and there my eyes
Sparkling forth fire for anger, will give light to read it by.
Can'st not conceive it yet? See'st thou not woman there
Imprinted in the wrinckles of my frowning forehead?
Oh woman, woman, woman!

Vir.
Come, forget this passion for a while,
Forget all women, and their virtues too.

Fid.
Alas there is not one left virtuous, but are all
As false and as disloyall as thy sister.

Vir.
I hope you don't suspect her sir.

Fid.
Yes, and your Mother too.
One man could not beget two contraries:
Thou art too good to be her Brother, and she
Too bad to be Brabanta's daughter.

Vir.
My ears have suck't in poyson, which works
Like Stybium in my brains. If this be true
(Which yet I cannot credit) nor pietie nor sisters cries
Shall hold my hand, but I will sacrifice her blood
For an atonement to thy anger.

Fid.
Oh Virtusus 'tis too true: wouldst thou rip ope my heart,
There, there thou mightst behold
Disloyall Constantina writ in bloody notes;
There too as in a perspective thou shouldst see
The Duke of Florences lustfull eyes
Fixt fast on Constantina, whilst the amorous Girl
Playes with his wanton hair, and in
A thousand other wayes invites embraces.

Vir.
Should Heavens in thunder speak it,
I durst to contradict 'um.

Fid.
'Twill be a less impiety to contradict this paper.

He gives him a Letter.
Vir.
It is her seal and Character:
I'le read no more; would 'twere her body,
Thus I'de rend it; Thus would I tear her unchaste limbs,
And blow 'um like to Atomes in the ayr;
Thus in contempt I'de spurn her lustful face,
Bowl with her rouling eyes, and twist her hayr
In ropes for executions. Did I but know
What vein her blood inhabits,
I'de make a sluce and draw that channel dry
Though I lay drowned in its gore.
But I am too passionate; who fury can allay,
Vengeance may sooner, and securelier pay.

Enter Charastus.
Fid.
Oh Charastus, never till now unwelcome to Fidelio.
Thou art too happy now for my companion.
I have dissolv'd thy Loves ambiguous Riddle,
And given thy soul a free election,
By making a necessity of thy choyse.

Cha.
False and disloyal man, dar'st thou yet live
And glory in thy wickedness? Hast thou a Conscience
Not to kill thy self when such a stain commands thee?
Oh thou prophaner of all Justice
Ought he to live that cannot look upon perfection
But with envious eyes?

Fid.
My care has not deserv'd these words Charastus.

Cha.
Call not that care Fidelio which thy spleen
Too long has nourish'd, 'tis an inveterate Hate
Sent from the souler mansion of thy soul
To blast perfection: Is that Physitian carefull
That instead of Physick gives deadly poyson
To his patient?

Fid.
No dire mistake was author of my charity,
But a Revenge which all their Sex must tremble under,
And 'twas my fortune to practise first on her,
And her honor to precede whole thousands.

Cha.
Thou art the worst of Mountebanks, they kill
Their poorest Patients for experiments,
But thou destroyst Patience it self, the richest Gem
That ever Art envied dame Nature for.

Fid.
It is the nature of Revenge to punish first
Those things from whence they took their poyson.

Cha.
Poyson from her?
Herein thou shew'st thy venemous disposition:
Spiders suck poyson from the sweetest flowers
When Bees draw Honey. Her words
Though arm'd to my destruction seem'd to me
Adorn'd with more variety of sweetness
Than ere enricht our Hybla, more pleasant
Than the jucie grape stole from the Vine
Just at the entrance of maturity;
And can they then, can these delicious words
Distill'd to the invitation of a happiness be a poyson?
Tis thy bad Nature only that converts to naught
What ere the Gods thought good.

Vir.
Doat not Charastus so on one, whose scorn
Makes her condition poorer than her birth,
Which surely is ignoble. The Kingly Eagle
Stoops not unto flies.

Cha.
But yet a Flye mounted on Eagles wings
Deserves more commendations than your painted Peacocks
That boast but in the gross absurdity of Nature.

Vir.
If for to reach a glove dropt from
A neighbouring Queen, be to degenerate From Majesty?
What will the world report when they shall hear
Charastus stoopt to the meaness of a Shepherdess?

Cha.
Art thou disloyall too Virtusus? two such more
Wou'd learn the Heavens impiety. Adue false friends,
Know my revenge shall be
Fully as ample as your Tyranny.

Exit.
Fid.
I dare, vie vengeance with thee at the highest.
My heart's as great with rage, and less confin'd
Within the bounds of charity, tis free,
Freer than Ayr, it soars aloft, hovering
Like some prodigious Meteor ore all women.
All shall groan under its heavie weight, all must sink
Or all my ends will perish.

Vir.
Not all Fidelio, be not so severe: Out of
Those numberless thousands that do clog the Earth
One may be found unspotted: thy Sisters Virtue
Is of sufficient value to redeem a destin'd Hecatombe
Of unchaste women, though doom'd by Tyranny it self.

Fid.
I do suspect her too; she is too much
A woman to be good: Women are all
The fruits of drunkenness, begot when men
Like senseless beasts wallow in strange desires;
Then coveting to frame a Monster like themselves
Nature complying with their avarice, sends them
A daughter: How can that Sex then be divine
That's thus engendred betwixt Lust and Wine.

Vir.
Be more charitable Fidelio in your opinion:
Blame not all for one.

Fid.
Charity is cold:
'Twill breed a contrariety in my raging breast.
Give me hot fuell: I would be all on flame.
Feed me with Bridegrooms thoughts, and let me drink
The fervent sighes breath'd from the truest penitence;
Bathe me in Lovers tears, drie me with
The fiery palme of some notorious Redhaird Strumpet:
I would be a living element of fire
To cross the new Philosophers opinion.
Yet from this flame I would send one spark
But to the ruine of a woman,
For now I finde the Proverb's verified
He that begets a daughter surely went drunk to bed.

Exeunt.