 | The tragedie of Lodovick Sforza Dvke of Millan |  |
Scena vltima.
Iuliano, Picinino.Iul.
I'me lost in this confusion: one reports
We haue lost all; another instantly
Kils all the French at once: thus eu'ry street
Is filld with wondring people; some cry, Arme,
Others runne crying, to perswade a flight:
All haue an earnest businesse in the stirre,
But in the helpe not any.
Pic.
These are they
That if an happy messenger should come
67
To be orecome with ioy: the gorgeous wals
Should shine with painted triumphs, and the French
Should be againe vanquisht in pageant.
But if his fortune yeeld to the French force,
What obloquy's will be enough for him?
Disgrace will then be wit, and any braine
Will venture on a Libell.
Iul.
'Tis the vse,
The popular folly to admire euents,
And those low soules thinke that the sword is iust,
Proportioning the reason by the end
Of the chiefe acts, of the best enterprize,
And so by folly runne into a crime.
Pic.
No matter for their wisedome, were they good:
O why are such term'd innocents? but friend,
What is our ayme? a flight our age denyes,
And whither should we flye, but to the graue?
O I haue so much people in me too,
Enter Maluezzo.
That I could wish thy company.
Mal.
Good Heau'ns!
Am I escap'd? may I stay safely here?
My feare has left such neere impressions,
I scarce dare thinke that this is Liberty.
Pic.
Noble Maluezzo, is there any hope?
Mal.
As much as in despaire: we are betraid,
Sforza is made a prisoner, all's lost,
And Millan, without blowes, is once more French.
Pic.
Now I remember what I dream't last night,
(If it be safe to call a vision, Dreame,)
I saw our Sforza in so pale a shape,
That Enuy neuer was describ'd more wan,
Who frighted me with this relation.
(If it be safe to call a vision, Dreame,)
I saw our Sforza in so pale a shape,
That Enuy neuer was describ'd more wan,
Who frighted me with this relation.
68
Start
not astonisht mortall: let no feare
Chill thee to my pale image, but fixe here:
Let thy once Prince be thy now spectacle,
Whilst I the direst Tragedy shall tell
That euer challeng'd wonder: briefly then,
I was betraid, betraid, and by those men
By whom I conquer'd:] tis an happy end
To perish for, but neuer by a friend.
This our first death: but then—O could curst Time
Dare euer such a Minute, such a Crime?
Then was I pinion'd, then these royall hands
Were forc'd obedient to the base commands
Of an insulting Conqueror, and knit
Vnto a hated vnion; t'were fit
If euer Heau'n shed teares, then to distill
Mournings Elixar, though th'expence should kill
The hopes of after Ages: but Heau'n smil'd
Nor any courteous clouds were wisely pil'd
Ouer the Sunnes sharpe beame, but they gaz'd on
With the same visage of compassion
As did my torturers, [by whom I'me brought
Vnto a place the which some shallower thought
Has faintly term'd a prison, but to tell
The truth of horror, t'was on Earth, an Hell:
Darknesse so dwell there, that I might be wonne
To wish the cruell comfort of the Sunne,
Which earst I rau'd at: twas a narrow caue,
Form'd to the modell of a lesser graue,
Or straitned Coffin, all was length, for they
Left not the height that I might kneele to pray.
Was euer such a bed? could euer yet
Cruelty boast of such a subtle wit
To bury so! some that haue entred Earth
Aliue, like me, yet by the vsuall mirth
Of iustice had their buriall with meat,
As if't should be their punishment to eate,
From which Ime barr'd, I had no food, but me,
And yet a guest of famine; Courtesie
At last ceiz'd heau'n, I dy'd, and so though late,
I both appeas'd and triumpht ouer Fate.
Chill thee to my pale image, but fixe here:
Let thy once Prince be thy now spectacle,
Whilst I the direst Tragedy shall tell
That euer challeng'd wonder: briefly then,
I was betraid, betraid, and by those men
By whom I conquer'd:] tis an happy end
To perish for, but neuer by a friend.
This our first death: but then—O could curst Time
Dare euer such a Minute, such a Crime?
Then was I pinion'd, then these royall hands
Were forc'd obedient to the base commands
Of an insulting Conqueror, and knit
Vnto a hated vnion; t'were fit
If euer Heau'n shed teares, then to distill
Mournings Elixar, though th'expence should kill
The hopes of after Ages: but Heau'n smil'd
Nor any courteous clouds were wisely pil'd
Ouer the Sunnes sharpe beame, but they gaz'd on
With the same visage of compassion
As did my torturers, [by whom I'me brought
Vnto a place the which some shallower thought
Has faintly term'd a prison, but to tell
The truth of horror, t'was on Earth, an Hell:
Darknesse so dwell there, that I might be wonne
To wish the cruell comfort of the Sunne,
Which earst I rau'd at: twas a narrow caue,
Form'd to the modell of a lesser graue,
Or straitned Coffin, all was length, for they
Left not the height that I might kneele to pray.
Was euer such a bed? could euer yet
Cruelty boast of such a subtle wit
To bury so! some that haue entred Earth
Aliue, like me, yet by the vsuall mirth
69
As if't should be their punishment to eate,
From which Ime barr'd, I had no food, but me,
And yet a guest of famine; Courtesie
At last ceiz'd heau'n, I dy'd, and so though late,
I both appeas'd and triumpht ouer Fate.
But where am I? what extasie was this?
Iul.
How quickely we learne misery? no ghost
Would haue so courteously relinquisht Hell
To teach vs happinesse: if a kind starre
Had cast a Fortune on vs beyond wish,
We might expect the story from the starre
Assoone as the deare benefit: but when griefe
That against which we would seale vp our eares,
When that is meant vs, we shall surely heare,
Though heau'n doe straine for a new Miracle,
So to amaze vs to a certainty:
Though rotten carkasses regaine a voice,
And hell is bounteous of intelligence,
To giue vs teares.
Pic.
Why, then an end to teares,
Let's scorne the sorrow, which we owe to hell:
Now learne we the prodigious effects
Of wise Ambition: for twere easie iustice
To ruine foolish vsurpation,
Heau'n needs not stickle in't: but when those men
Who are as accurate, as bad, who can
So shape their vice into a vertuous mould,
That we repine at the accusers more,
Then at the guilty: when that these men fall,
Who then will call that wise, which he sees bad?
Such wisdome made, and ruin'd him: then ye
That dazzle with your Maiesty, and sit
Too neere to thunder, and not feare it, know
70
Frailty attends your best, and strongest tricke,
And there's no foole vnto the Politicke.
| The tragedie of Lodovick Sforza Dvke of Millan | |