University of Virginia Library

SCEN. III.

Ferrando. Ursini. Charintha.
A Table is set forth; taper, pen, inke, &c.
Fer.
—Contemne our pardon.

Urs.
Returne your favours too
With so much scorne.

Fer:
Better they'd play'd with lightning,
Or hugg'd a thunderbolt.

Urs:
Justice is slow
Of pace, and if not led by furie,
Seldome o'retakes the crime, let your returne
Of punishment be quicke, and active, delay is worse
Than pitty, and more dangerous: Valenzo
Is popular, and who knowes, but hee had rather,
Owe his life to the peoples mutiny, than your pardon,
And therefore slighted it.

Fer:
Oh the state of Princes!
How farre are we from that securitie,
Wee dream't of in th'expectance of our crowne?
Were forraine dangers nothing, yet we nourish
Our ruine in our bosome: Valenzo is a traytour,
So is Piero too; and who is not in this age?
It is unsafe not to suspect our selfe.
To torture with 'em; be noble in thy justice:—
Here draw a warrant for their execution;—
We'le sign't with our owne signe;—hence pitty,
Post from our breast; we banish thee our bosome
Th'art a disease bred there to ruine Majestie:
And sink us below our subjects scorne.—
Ursini preparing to write.
Charintha?
(Enter Charintha.)
Our Princely cousin, welcome to Court; thou hast
Beene too long absent, (I must chide thee for't,)
And envy'd us the boast of vertue.

Char:
Vertue!

Urs.
Some malicious devill now, or other,
Has intic'd her from her beads;
To undoe mee, and my plots, shee carries anger
In her brow:—this I must mitigate, or I am
Lost.—

Fer:
Thou art so eager after heaven,
Thou woo't o're-buy thy happinesse.

Char:
Never fear't Sir.

Fer:
But thy devotion's season'd with so much charity,
Thou pil'st a stocke of merit up for us
At Court.

Char:
I beleeve y'had need on't.

Fer:
As long as we live here we shall;—

Char:
So wicked!

Fer:
Ha! what frowne's that, whence these clouds, Charintha?
So rises the blushing morne, as thou wert wont
To smile, when thou appear'dst, we owe
Our day unto thy eyes; and if thou think'st
Thy beautie's worne too cheape, we'le become tributaries
To thee for light; chase hence this fullen darknesse,
Thy absence has already made too long
A night.

Char:
No Sir; 'twas your blacke deeds:

Fer.
How's this?
Do'e know mee, who I am?

Char:
Not well.

Fer:
Your King.

Char:
A Tyrant
Of bigge, and glorious impieties,
A regall monster, the true head of that
Beast you rule, the multitude: more cruell
Than enrag'd lyons, or robb'd beares; who both
Will spare the innocent, and humble.

Fer:
Looke to'th Lady there, sure she's distracted.

Char:
My wrongs indeed would make mee so.

Fer:
What wrongs? whence? or from whom?

Char.
Raise not my anger higher with your scorne;—

Fer.
By all that's.—

Char.
Or if't be ignorance of my sufferings,
It but betrayes your want of reason, and
How farre you're lost to man, by your fond dotage.

Fer.
Grow more particular, or wonder ruines mee.

Char.
Good God! I've suffer'd so long, till patience
Grew my greatest crime.—

Urs.
Now, now the storme is coming this way,
But I'me prepar'd to meete it.

Char.
Whence? or from whom?
Aske this good man how often he has mourn'd
Over the ruines of my fame? how often
His eares have met with the report of my
Disgrace? how I was noys'd a strumpet? when
Each talking thing at Court, might freely act
A rape upon my vertue, till I was left
All a whole staine, blacke as the front of perjur'd
Sinners? while you, (as if I'de bin a trifle
Cast from your blood, and kindred, or some darke thing,
Whose actions were so fowly bad,
That report better'd 'em in the expression:)
Could sit as silent as the night; as calme
As seas, when the windes sleepe; yet at last be just;
And say, how have I appear'd to you, or him,
That calumnie has thus bin priviledg'd,
To violate my honour?

Urs.
Madame,
I have allwayes spoke you, chastities best example.

Fer:
Innocence it selfe is not so white.

Char.
Yet he that would confirme this with his sword,
Must meete, with prisons, wrackes, and tortures,
As a reward of so much vertue!

Fer.
Ha!

Urs.
Sweetest Princesse!—

Char:
And ere he die, must suffer in's honour,
Be proclaim'd traytor to the state:

Fer:
Ursini, thou hast abus'd our trust.

Urs.
My Lord.—

Char:
Too weake pretence, for your ingratitude
To so large merit; Naples call's him
Her chiefe preserver; he brought home victory,
By his owne arme atchiev'd, when the proud foe,
Threatned your Kingdome with a fatall downefall.
He, to whose arme you owe your life, your crowne,
To whom in warre, you'd sooner flie for helpe
Then to the Altar; now in peace must have
His temples robb'd; his garlands from his brow
Transplanted. to adorne this uselesse statua.

Urs.

Madame, I have not so appear'd in managing these
affaires of yours.

Char.
Would thou had'st,
Or somewhat that carries lesse resemblance
Of man: Oh thou art bravely wicked.

Urs.
I have not us'd the art to boast the vertue
Of mine owne actions; yet heaven knowes
They were all good, and aim'd at ends as honourable
As your desires.

Fer.
Ursini leave, till there is hope of pardon,
This impudence in sinne,
Bid's a defiance to all mercy; did we not,
At your perswasion, give order for Valenzo's
Quicke dispatch?

Urs:

How ere I seem'd (great Sir) to runne downe with
the streame of your violent passion, yet my intents still bore
up against it; witnesse this paper.

Fer:
Ha! What's here a pardon?

Deliver's a paper to Ferrando, who reades it.
Urs:

Which you had seal'd ere this, had not this Lady here
interrupted it.

Fer.
How?

Urs:
your passion would not have permitted you,
To have o're view'd what you consented too;
This I knew, as likewise how dangerous it.
Would have beene to the state, if he had fall'n.

Fer:
Againe my owne Ursini:—
Charintha, pardon our errours, we will deserve it,
By the future love, and honours we will throw
On our Valenzo,—here take my signet
Fetch 'em to Court.

Char:
You are noble.

Fer:
Ursini Waite on her to the Castle.

Urs.
You honour mee.

Fer.
Oh how neere were we destruction.
Reason sit still enthron'd in thine owne state,
T'is passion onely ruines Kings not fate.

(Exeunt.