 | The Cunning Lovers |  |
ACT II.
SCENE I.
Enter Mantua, Florence, Ferrara, Iulio, and Prospero.Man.
Have you given charge, Lord Iulio, that may Dutchess
Be nobly serv'd as her whom Mantua loves?
Iul.
I have my Lord.
Man.
And that Valentia be inclos'd and shut
From all her sutors eies.
Iul.
I gave such order.
Man.
Enough now my Lords.
Flo.
You give us faire words; but keep us from the sight of
the faire Ladies.
Man.
Soft and faire, soft and faire.
Fer.
We know they are both soft and faire, and that's the
reason we desire so much both to see and feele them.
Iul.
I would beneath the groundsels of this Castle,
By Miners craft, were plac'd some strong Petars,
To which I would give fire and blow this structure
Up into aire that prisons thus my Love;
But Iulio peace, and some advantage wait
To shew to her thy love, to him thy hate.
Flo.
My Lord, I can compare you to none so rightly as to the
King Acrisius, that shut up his Daughter Danas in a brazen
Tower, but you know the end of it, there was a Jupiter that
with a golden pick-lock broke through those brazen gates, and
made the maid a mother. Now if
Would I, for her sake, wish to be a Jupiter.
Man.
For men to be made gods it were a wonder,
You Iove, and neither have his power nor thunder?
Fer.
Shall I baile her my Lord? Ile put you in good security.
Ma.
But not in better security than I have put her in already,
Yet better would do well; oh for a man
Strong frames and formes of building.
Pro.
Now's my question;
My Lord, there is a stranger in your Court
Whose outside though it promise not much Art,
Yet is he so ingenious, and so apt,
Of such opinion and direction too,
That could you win him to be so imploy'd,
As we shall hardly, for men excellent
Are curious of their skill, you cannot find
A man to match his skill in Italy.
Man.
Thou wert I see, faire Knight, mark'd in thy Cradle
To do me all good offices, bring that man
To my employment, I will guerdon him
With more than he can aske.
Pro.
I, but my Lord,
He is a man alwaies so absolute,
And stands so much upon his excellence
In fine contriving and rare edifices
We shall have much adoe to win him to't—
Ent. Mont.
Here comes the man.
Man.
Sir, your due praise hath, like a harbinger,
Gone all the way before you to provide you
A place in my regard, you are most welcome,
You have not seen my Castle?
Mon.
Yes my Lord, I have perus'd it.
Man.
What thinke you of the worke?
Mon.
'Tis pretty, pretty;
'Tis well for moderne builders, homebred workmen,
'Twill serve: Yet let me tell you, worthy Lord,
They never look'd on high Mausolus Tombe,
Never beheld a Grecian Pyramis,
Rich Crassus house at Rome, Diana's Temple
At Ephesus, nor the grand City Caire,
'Tis well for them that are no travellers;
Saw you me draw a forme, or a fine modell,
The Fabrick greatly would enamour you,
But yet 'tis well enough, pretty, not famous.
Shall I entreat you to direct my workmen,
And I will weigh your paines down with reward.
Mon.
Your Tower as 'tis, my Lord, will serve the turne,
Is finely seated, and to keepe your Daughter
Close from the eyes of strangers, well contriv'd,
Yet could I by a plot, but why should I
Engage me in such worke? 'tis well already,
Well, very well.
Man.
You can contrive it better, noble stranger;
Make triall of my bounty, by mine honour
It shall not faile your hopes.
Pro.
Did not I tell you at the first, my Lord,
He would be wondrous dainty of his cunning?
Man.
So most men are in things they best excell;
Shall I prevaile faire sir?
Mon.
Well, I am wonne
To end that frame your workmen have begun;
I have perus'd the scituation,
Find it secure and full of able trust,
Yet one defect I find: Could you pick out
Some noble Knight, whose valour did exceed,
To build for him a Lodging neare that Tower
Where faire Valentia is to live enclos'd,
He, as a Guardian, or a Centinell,
Might keep continuall watch, defend the passage,
And keepe the place strong and impregnable?
Man.
Where should I find a man worthy that place,
Whose valour might supply this my employment?
Iul.
Let me engage my person to that businesse.
Flo.
Accept of me my Lord, Ile be her Guardian.
Fer.
Let the Ferrara Marquess be employ'd
In this adventure.
Mon.
List to me my Lord:
'Mongst other quests, once as I travell'd Greece,
There, at the sack of a most famous towne,
I saw a Knight, now resident in Court,
Do such high deeds of Armes, that living Hector,
Had he surviv'd to see his Chivalry,
To have eterniz'd him with golden fame.
Man.
In our Court resident?
Mon.
Yes, that strange Knight,
What wonders have I seen him do in fight!
Would he attempt it, all the plot were sure,
Your Selfe, your Daughter, and your Tower secure;
But you shall hardly win him to attempt.
Man.
That he is valiant I must needs confesse
To my lives safeguard I have prov'd no lesse;
Oh every way my friend; renowned Souldier,
Pardon me that I have not done you honours
Worthy your high deserts.
Pro.
Alas my Lord.
Man.
My eares are deafe unto excuse, and shut
'Gainst all deniall.
Pro.
I am exceeding loath.
Man.
I shall deserve it, noble Gentleman,
I must not be deni'd, this skillfull stranger
Shall cause my workmen build you a faire Lodging
Next to the Castle, and adjoyning close
Unto my Daughters Chamber: this is all;
Can you deny me this?
Pro.
Your former honours
Bestow'd so largely on my meane deserts
Have been with me prevailing Oratours
Upon your part, and I at length agree
This skilfull Artist shall dispose of me.
Iul.
Againe prevented.
Man.
On all sides happy, fortunate, and blest,
Now my disturb'd thoughts attaine true rest,
Only one bar unto my best desires
Is the intire affection and true zeale
I beare the beautious Dutchesse.
Pro.
Oh my Lord,
You have entertain'd the most affecting wooer
In Europe, or the world, therein he's better
Than in his Architecture, he's but young,
Man.
Hem'd in with all felicities about,
Having these helps what need I now misdoubt?
You shall sir beare from me most kind commends.
Mon.
Who, I my Lord? Alas.
Man.
Come sir, you shall
Unto the beauteous Dutchesse whom I love.
Mon.
You do not know my weaknesse.
Man.
You are strong
In your acute words, and prais'd for your sweet tongue,
A token I will send by you, that give her,
And in your own sweet words my love deliver.
Mon.
If need's Ile do't my Lord: upon my life
The provident Duke has found me out a wife.
Man.
Follow us Lords, I am full of jocund mirth,
My feares are dead, my joyes receive new birth.
Exit.
Mon.
Now Prince, was not this wrought out of Adamant?
Pros.
But what's the marke that all the severall arrows shoot
at?
Mon.
This is the marke, marke it, I am made chiefe overseer
of the worke, and your Lodging is directly against the
Chamber of the Lady: Now will I appoint a private doore to
be made through the wall, by and through which you may have
accesse, ingresse and regresse at your pleasure.
Pro.
Thou hast builded in my heart a Tower already
Of steady and firme hope.
Man.
Take my word I am excellent at Architecture.
Pros.
But touching thy employment with the Dutchesse,
Art thou so mad to wooe her for the Duke?
Mon.
Yes, I will set him out in his lively colours, deale you
as soundly with the maid as I will worke with the widdow, and
I doubt not but we shall both live to be in the beliefe there are
no Cuckolds but Batchelours, our stay is suspicious, be it your
charge to hire—
And leave it to my wit to cover all.
Pro.
That be my care;
Thou wooest a widdow, but I court a maid,
But mine is strait, and danger ushers me.
Exeunt.
Enter Verona like a Pilgrime.
Ver.
No marvell though Jove often went disguis'd,
And in his rurall habit trac'd the earth
To heare and see th'affaires of mortall men.
I being a Prince have in these lowly weeds
Seen more than being resident in Court;
But I am now in Mantua, and thus far
I have pursued my Son by common tract;
The Duke and I are dangerously oppos'd,
And therefore this disguise must shelter me;
The Mantuan Court Ile now search ere I go
For Montecelso and my princely Son—
Enter Clown with a rule and line.
Clo.
Let me see, let me see, make a doore so broad, I, so broad,
and thus wide; now unlesse I had the Lady here to take measure
of her 'tis impossible that ever I should make the doore fit;
if a man take a thing in hand, it is for his credit to do it workeman
like; now if I should make the doore too streight to pinch
her body, or too wide to sit upon her like a sack, what credit
should I have by my workmanship?
Ver.
Heaven save you sir.
Clo.
Et tu quoque my friend; let me see, let me see, now
have I forgotten whether the doore must be made for her to
come thus, with her armes broad waies, Pilcher-fashion, and a
kembo; or thus side-waies, like a shotten herring.
Ver.
Sir, without interruption to your businesse, shall I entreat
a few words with you.
Clo.
Hold here, hold here a little, thus high, I, thus high, just
thus high; but now my friend, if I should make it just thus high
according to my measure, and then the party being yet but
young should grow higher, there were all the labour cast away;
come, come, I must have a new measure.
Ver.
Sir, what means this? I understand it not,
Pray let me aske you but one question.
Clo.
Hold againe, hold againe, say my friend I make it of this
breadth according to my measure, just to a haire; very good my
made for, say the party hereafter grow fat, or as the Fox that
when his belly was empty crept through a small hole into a henroost,
and there fill'd his belly so full, that when he should come
out againe, there was no roome; Colon was grown so great,
and so poore Reynald was taken in the manner, no, my friend,
this must not be.
Ver.
I pray sir to what end take you this measure?
Clo.
Why, my friend, because I would do nothing out of
measure, I hope you have not plaid the old eaves dropper.
Ver.
No sir, but if your chiefe affaires be ended,
Let me discourse with you.
Clo.
My friend, as you have lent a hand to my Line, so will I
lend an eare to your tale.
Ver.
What's the best news in Court?
Clo.
Troth sir nothing but this, that the Prince is magnanimous,
the Courtiers egregious, the Ladies beautious, the place
conspicuous, and the building in hand most sumptuous.
Ver.
What strangers so journe there, what men of note?
Clo.
Troth sir there are only two, one is most brave at models
and buildings, and hath undertaken a most brave peece of
worke.
Ver.
That's not my Son, he never studied that,
No, nor his friend.
Clo.
But there is another, the finest sweet-fac'd Gentleman,
that sav'd the Dukes life in the Forrest, if you know not that you
know nothing, if you know not him you know no body.
Ver.
What manner of man is he?
Clo.
A most dainty man, much of my size, he hath a most
learing lip and tempting eye, there is only this difference between
us, for you would take us to be brothers, but that he
has more haire than I, and I more wit than he; Father, you are
not worthy to be held a good Subject, if you love not him that
had like to have kill'd him that would have kill'd the Duke, he
hath set me about this peece of work here, let me see, this blockhead
of mine will never bring it to any purpose—
Ent. Prosp.
Oh here comes the Gentleman.
Ver.
He interpose himselfe and save the Duke!
Pro.
Oh well incounter'd, tell me honest fellow,
Hast thou dispatch'd the close and secret doore?
Clo.
Not yet my Lord.
Pro.
What dost thou with that Line?
Clo.
I am staying here, that if she should come down this way,
I may take measure of her to make the doore fit for her body.
Pro.
Away you asse, thou wilt betray my purpose;
But sirrah on your life use secresie,
And with all speed dispatch it; but what's he?
Clo.
A Fellow that wonders so young a Gentleman as
your selfe should take the Dukes quarrell in hand, and save him
from the sword of a Traitour.
Ver.
'Tis Prospero my Son, shape, gate, and voice,
To heare his valour prais'd how I rejoice,
Pro.
This fellow at a blush looks like my Father,
Such setled gravity lives in his eye;
Nor is there wanting ought save power and state,
Attended with the royall name of Duke
To make him the same man; but I digresse;
Come to your private taske, sirrah be secret,
Or thy life paies for't.
Clo.
I warrant you sir, I would be as loath to hazzard my neck
as you the Dukes favour, his favour once lost may be got again,
but my neck once broke, Ile not trust all the bone-setters in
Mantua to have it new set; feare not me.
Fro.
This aged man is still tost in my thoughts,
And ever as I cast a look on him,
His face grows more familiar with my eye;
But to our taske in hand, why do we stay?
His cloath of state cannot be turn'd to gray.
Exit.
Ver.
Is this your travell Son? Oh heaven to see
The follies and the vaine delights of youth,
How headstrong, and how full of violence!
Why should he take this way? why sojourne here
Within my enemies Court? If to revenge
My Injuries, why did he rescue him?
Oh mine own Boy!
Even of thy enemies, and honour'd fame
'Mongst those, that if they knew thee, hate thy name;
Ile listen further till some fate bewray
The full intent of his enforced stay.
Exit.
Enter Mantua.
Man.
My Daughter is securely clos'd and shut
In my new Turret, and the noble Knight,
As her bold guardian, hath his place assign'd,
Those feares have end; now to my sute in hand,
The stranger whom so late I entertain'd
Is my sollicitor, and is directed
To meet and court the Dutchesse in the garden,
Where from this place I may behold their gestures,
The manner of his courtship and conceit:
How is my heart disturb'd 'tween hope and feare—
Enter Montecelso and Dutchesse.
Comfort cold spirit, they now methinks appeare.
Mon.
The greatest instance of my love is, that I have given
into your hands my liberty and life; my name is Montecelso,
and that noble Gentleman that rescued the Duke Prince Prospero,
Son to the Duke of Verona, it lies in you either to save me
alone, or to destroy us both; give me no deniall, sweet Lady, rather
kill me than disclose me to the Duke, so shall you lessen
the supposition of your cruelty.
Dutch.
In that you are a stranger, I can no lesse in courtesie,
nor more in modesty than to say you are welcome, though I have
been trusted by many, I never betrayed any; I could call you rash
to trust so rich a Jewel as your life unto the brest of a woman, but
though you be so over-bold to presume upon me, I will not prove
so over-cruell to tyrannize over you.
Man.
She talk'd a great long tale, and loud she spake,
To her again, do not that answer take.
Mon.
Madam, by all the honours of a Gentleman, my love is
as pure to you, and as free from blemish as is the element of fire,
or the white robe of Innocence.
Man.
I know it is, I know it is.
Dutch.
All the comfort I can give you is this, the life you
proffered to me I will ponder on, I will never marry till you are
bestow'd, nor ever assume the name of wife till you meet with
a Lady to call you husband.
Mon.
Give me your hand of that.
Dutch.
I may well trust you with my hand that have trusted
me with your heart.
Man.
A match I hope, for see, they now joine hands,
My heart for joy upon the tiptoe stands;
Follow it now, strike whilst the Iron's hot,
I ne're was pleas'd till now with a fine plot.
Dutch.
But you forget in all this to speake for the Duke.
Mon.
Madam, 'tis true, I did forget my selfe, I must entreat
you to thinke of him, but I do not entreat you to thinke well of
him, as ill as you can possible; I beseech you love to be out
of his sight in any case, and to love him best when he is farthest
off: I would have you in all humility to honour him, but I would
not for a world have you to marry him; have I yet spoke for
him sufficiently?
Man.
Good, good, well spoken, and well acted too,
He is not halfe so good to plot as wooe.
Dutch.
My Lord, the love we now celebrate betwixt our
selves should once have been solemnized between our Parents,
before these odds grew between the two Dukes.
Mon.
Though the Dukes be at odds, let us make even,
Contracts are made on earth, but seal'd in heaven;
Madam, let the Dukes love be the colour to our meeting: I
must go tell him the manner, for with much longing he expects
my returne.
So thrive I as my love is chaste and pure.
Exit.
Man.
Againe, againe, faire fortune be thy speed,
Once more joine hands, and then 'tis done indeed;
I knew the good Knight would not choose a man
That should not fit my purpose, heaven I pray
His place may take effect the other way,
And his intents as prosperously proceed;
But I must hence to meet him with all speed.
Exit.
Val.
You wrong mine honour, and I shall complaine,
I charge you get you back the way you came.
Pro.
Banish me heaven if you exile me hence;
My deed, though it seeme rash, yet is begot
In as pure birth as truth, and as upright
As is the scale of Justice; I am free
From all mis-thoughts, then do not banish me.
Val.
What are you sir? whence are you? what's your name?
Pro.
I am your friend, should you desire to know
What my name is, alas my name's your foe.
Val.
Being my friend, and court me in this kind
You should have come and left your name behind.
Pro.
I should indeed, my name is Prospero.
Val.
Prince Prospero, and the Duke Verona's Son,
Our profest Foe?
Pro.
Give me some other name,
Call me your friend and I am not the same.
Val.
Y'are not the same, you are th'advent'rous Knight
That from the forrest-treason sav'd my Father.
Pro.
I was Prince Prospero when I rescu'd him,
And so continued till I saw your face;
But as my heart within your eye was tost,
At once my hatred and my name I lost.
Val.
It was a kind foes part to save a foe.
Pro.
That kind foes part perform'd Prince Prospero.
Val.
Such a faire foe that no more hurt intends
I should prefer before a many friends.
Pro.
Lady, we should have been espous'd together,
But that our Fathers differ'd in the Dower;
Shall Gold divorce them whom the soule of love
Links in an endlesse knot? I for your love
First hazarded my life to come disguis'd
Only to view your face, next I contriv'd
This private passage, known to none but us;
If this deserve no love, no friendlie grace,
Confine my life if banish me this place.
Val.
If nothing but the rescue of my Father
But when your travell, and your fervent love,
Attended with your feature and rare parts,
Your studious meanes to compasse my consent
And hazzard of your fortunes many waies,
When all these plead together forciblie
They draw me in a treble-folded chaine
Your zealous love to pay with love againe.
Pro.
I left my name behind me at Verona,
And now no more Prince Prospero but your Love;
Weare this for me, and use in these affaires
My art, feare not, I will devise a meanes
To win your Fathers grant unto this match.
Va.
So we, my Lord, shall doubly be made friends,
I take it as an earnest of your love,
And hope of my release from this strict bondage;
Accept of me interchange this Ring,
My Father gave it me, keep't from his eye,
Or he will end our loves by jealousie—
Pro.
As I have been, I will be firme and sure,
Long may the date of our chaste love endure—
Enter Iulio, Florence, Ferrara.
Flo.
I prethee, sweet Marquesse, since my successe is so bad
with the Dutchesse let's walke by the Dukes new edifice, and
see if we can take a view of the young inclosed Lady.
Fer.
Content my Lord, the Dukes strictnesse adds but spurs
to my desire; for commonly what we are most forbid that still
we most covet.
Iul.
Then should you with some engine raze these walls
That interdicts your passage to that Tower;
Had I such power I should enjoy such thoughts,
But Iulio is a Subject.
Flo.
Now you put me in mind of such generous and noble
thoughts, let's take a view of the Castle, and spy where it is
weakest, that there, if hereafter we should invade, we may
give the best and safest assault.
Fer.
Now you speake like a politicke Lover, come lets take
a view of the building: But see, see, do you know him that's
Flo.
Is't possible, Ile in and tell the Duke.
Fer.
Nay, leave me not behind, Ile second you.
Iul.
Introth Lad art good at that? you are a notable rascall,
can you come to't
Ile see how Mantua applauds this fight.
Exit.
Val.
We are descry'd my Lord, then post away,
Get through the private doore.
Pro.
Feare not sweet Lady, Ile so blind their eyes,
That we will still live free from their surprise.
Exit.
Val.
Ten thousand times adieu, I am full of feare;
Where love inhabits danger still draws neare.
Ex.
| The Cunning Lovers | |