 | A Challenge for Beavtie |  |
Actus quartus.
Scæna prima.
Enter Ferrera and Petrocella.Petr.
I never heard a fellow since my yeeres, taught mee how
to distinguish It from good, to talke in this strange Key;
how English this? What art thou in thy Countrey?
Ferr.
There, a man.
Petr.
What heere?
Ferr.
No better then you see a slave.
Petr.
Whose?
Ferr.
His that hath redeem'd mee.
Petr.
Valladauraes?
Ferr.
Yes, I proclaym 't; I that was once mine owne,
Am now become his creature.
Petro.
I perceive,
Your comming is to make mee thinke you noble,
Would you perswade mee deeme your friend a God?
For only such make men, ere you a gentleman?
Ferr.
Not heere, for I am all dejectednesse,
Captive to fortune, and a slave to want;
I can not call these clothes I weare mine owne,
I doe not eate, but at anothers cost,
This ayre I breathe, is borrowed; nere was man
So poore and abject. I have not so much,
In all this vniverse, as a thing to leave,
Or a Countrey I can freely boast is mine:
In all the world, I had but one true friend,
And hee is ravish'd from mee;
My essence, and my beeing, is anothers:
What should I say? I am not any thing,
Petro.
Tell me that?
Come, come, I know you to be no such man,
You are a Souldier, valiant, and renownd,
Your carriage try'd by land, and prov'd at Sea,
Of which, I have heard such full expression
No contradiction can perswade you lesse,
And in this faith I am constant.
Fer.
A meere worme
Trod on by every Fate.
Petro.
Rais'd by your merit
To be a common argument through Spaine.
And speech at Princes Tables, for your worth
Your presence when you please to expose't abroad,
Attracts all eyes, and draw them after you
And these that understand you call their friends,
And pointing through the streetes, say, this is he,
This that brave and noble Englishman,
Whom Souldiers strive to make their president,
And other men their wonder.
Fer.
This your scorne
Makes me appeare more abiect to my selfe
Then all diseases I have tasted yet
Had power to asperse upon me, and yet Lady
I could say something durst I.
Petro.
Speak't at once.
Fer.
And yet—
Petro.
Nay, but wee'l admit no pawse.
Fer.
I know not how my phrase may relish you,
And loth I were to offend, even in what's past
I must confesse, I was too bold,—Farewell,
I shall no more distaste you.
Petro.
Sir, you doe not,
I doe proclaimt you doe not, stay, I charge you,
Or as you say, you have beene fortunes scorne,
So ever proove to woman.
Fer.
You charge deepely,
And yet now, I bethinke me.
As you are a Souldier,
And Englishman, have hope to bee redeemd
From this your scorned bondage you sustaine,
Have comfort in your Mother, and faire Sister,
Renowne so blazed in the eares of Spaine,
Hope to re-breathe that ayre you tasted first.
So tell me—
Fer.
What?
Petr.
Your apprehension catch'd
And almost was in sheafe.
Fer.
Lady I shall.
Petro.
And in a word?
Fer.
I will.
Petro.
Pronounce it then.
Fer.
I love you.
Petro.
Ha, ha, ha.
Fer.
Still it is my misery
Thus to bee mock'd in all things.
Petro.
Pretty faith.
Fer.
I look'd thus to be laught at, my estate
And fortunes I confesse, deserves no lesse;
That made me so unwilling to denounce
Mine owne derisions, but alas I finde
No Nation, sex, complexion, birth, degree.
But jest at want, and mocke at misery.
Petr.
Love mee?
Fer.
I doe, I doe, and maugre Fate,
And spight of all sinister evill shall.
And now I charge you, by that filiall zeale
You owe your father, by the memory
Of your deare mother, by the joyes you hope
In blessed marriage, by the fortunate issue
Stor'd in your wombe, by these and all things else,
That you can stile with goodnesse: instantly,
Without evasion, trick, or circumstance,
Nay, least premeditation, answer me.
Affect you me, or no?
Petro.
How speake you that?
Without dentur or pawse.
Petr.
Give me but time
To sleepe upon't.
Fer.
I pardon you no minute, not so much
As to apparell the least phrase you speake,
Speake in the shortest sentence.
Petr.
You have vanquish'd me
At mine owne weapon: noble sir, I love you:
And what my heart durst never tell my tongue
Least it should blab my thoughts, at last I speake
And iterate, I love you.
Fer.
Oh, my happinesse
What wilt thou feele me still? art thou not weary
Of making me thy May-game to possesse me
Of such a treasures mighty Magozin,
Not suffer me t'inioy't, tane with this hand,
With that to get another.
Petr.
You are sad Sir,
Be so no more, if you have beene dejected
It lies in me to mount you to that height,
You could not ayme at greater, I am yours.
These lips that only witnesse it in aire
Now with this truth confirme it.
Kisses him.
Fer.
I was borne to't,
And it shall out at once.
Petr.
Sir, you seeme passionate,
As if my answer pleasd not.
Fer.
Now my death,
For mine owne tongue must kill me, noble Lady.
Enter Valladaura.
You have indeered me to you, but my vow
Was ne'ere to match with any of what state
Or birth soever, till before the contract,
Some one thing I impose her.
Petr.
Shee to doo't?
Fer.
Or if she faile me in my first demand
I to abjure her ever.
Petr.
I am shee.
Whose very face would fright all womanhood,
And manhood put in trance, nay whose aspect
Would ague such, as should but heare it told:
But to the sad beholder, proove like those
That gaz'd upon Medusaes snakie lockes,
And turn'd them into Marble: Those and more
Should you but speak't, I'de doe.
Ferrers.
And sweare to this?
Petro.
I vow it by my honour, my best hopes
And all that I wish gracious, name it then,
For I am in a longing in my soule,
To shew my loves expression.
Fer.
You shall then,
Petro.
I'le doe't as I am a Virgine.
Lye it within mortality, I'le doe't.
Fer.
You shall?
Petro.
I will: that which appeares in you
So terrible to speake, I'le joy to act,
And take pride in performance.
Ferr.
Then you shall.
Petro.
What? Souldier, What?
Ferr.
Love noble Valladaura,
And at his soonest appointment marry him.
Petro.
Vnkind man, thou hast kil'd me.
Fer.
And my selfe with the same stroke.
Valladau.
Oh, Noble Englishman,
Thou now appear'st a mirrour.
Petro.
But in this,
Pray Sir can you be serious?
Fer.
As I would in death unto my Confessor.
Petro.
Then I am lost,
Now baser than this fellow tearm'd himselfe,
To him that was on earth most miserable:
I am now become a Vassaile, Nay, despis'd,
I that but once to day, thought my selfe rivall,
For face and vertue, to the peerelesse Queene,
Both these have prostituted to a slave,
Behold in me this passion to usurpe
Triumph in my disgrace, and boast abroad
Of this so poore a conquest? No Petrocella recollect thy selfe,
Preserve thy honor, though against thy spirit,
And where thy heart is sicke, complaine thy heele,
Let not thy seene griefe please him.
Fer.
Home and retire, Why should you strive thus
to undoe one that's allready conquer'd?
Petro.
Poore exile! oh, with what slight attribute
Shall I devise to give thee expression?
Thou all that basenesse thou hast tearm'd thy selfe,
Thou look'st now I should whine and pale and weepe
Hang 'bout thy necke, submit, and kneele for grace,
As if thou wert that brave man so reported?
Know I am no such Creature, neither thinke I
There can be ought good in thee, saving this
Which was the last, that thou hast plighted me,
To one more worthy, one, whose very shadow
I prize, above thy beeing, one whose actions
Were never taxt in any thing save this
To ransome such a—what thou knowest thy selfe
Him I'le both love and marry, hence, depart:
Oh heaven, how far my tongue speaks from my heart!
Fer.
I would 'twere but a dream, then there were hope
I might be once awake and so see day,
But night is lodg'd within me, night perpetuall
Darker than the Cimmerian, all my lights
Have only beene mere flashes that precede
Tempestuous crackes of thunder.
Valla.
Now 'tis time
To rowze him from his slumber, worthy friend
How have you sped this day in my behalfe?
Fer.
As you would wish.
Valla.
You neede not speak't againe.
You averre no more then what my eares have witnest,
In which you have us'd such fidelity,
I needs most freely must acquit all debts
Confesse my selfe in reradge.
Ferr.
Oh I still,
And ever-more, must owe you.
Valla.
But If you,
Would add a second to this curtesie,
I should report you for the constantst friend
That ever striv'd to exceede in gratitude.
Ferr.
Name it I pray you, having one thing done,
I now am in at all things.
Valla.
Vpon your honour.
Ferr.
That which you have bought,
And pay'd for, with your money.
Valla.
That no more,
I charge you by our love.
Ferr.
Why, I have done:
What I shall ever rue, may give it motion,
I being new all for action.
Valla.
Onely this,
For some occasions to my selfe best knowne,
And which I now intreate you not inquire,
But prosecute, that Priest shall marry us:
For your disguise, and all things fitting too't,
Leave it to my discretion to contrive,
And this is all I injoyne.
Ferr.
And this Ile doe.
Valla.
And binde mee to you ever.
Ferr.
I am in,
Past halfe already, why not up toth' chinne?
Exeunt.
Enter Sebastian, and Isabella, Centella and Pineda, with other Followers and Attendants.
Sebast.
Centella and Pineda, Wee haue long
Mournd for your absences had not our bright Queene
Made us acquainted with th'intent thereof,
Wee had not tooke it of you subject-like,
You so unfriendly, left us without leave,
Isabel.
As the men,
Have crown'd us with a wreathe, of rarer worth,
Then can the united birthes of Spaine and Portugall
Maintaine to us: they make us still supreame,
And wee by them find no Competitor,
The token that confirmes infallibly,
That beauty stands corrupted.
Cent.
Sacred Empresse,
Behold the Ring: the manner how shee fell,
How easily, and with what facillitie,
Shee yeelded almost at the first demand,
Wee shall relate at full.
Isabel.
Forbeare Centella, for to vexe him more,
It shall be in his hearing; one of you
Release him from the torment of his Prison,
To indure a greater heere: And mighty Prince,
Give mee but leave, since hee so prowdly durst
Deprave our worth to spite, nor all his griefe,
And triumph in his willfull miserie.
Sebast.
You speake but what is just and necessary,
In others to deterre the like presumption,
I pray sir reprehend him, you cannot bee too bitter
In his Iust reprehension.
Enter Bonavida and his man, brought in by Pineda.
Cent.
See, hee's come.
Isabel.
Wee have sent to proove your Mistris.
Bona.
And her constancie
Hath purchas'd my release, Is't not so Madam?
Isabel.
Wee are put downe; I fear'd if any clyme
Could yeeld rarietie to equall ours,
It would be found in England.
Bona.
So I said,
And Royall Mistris, had you seene that face,
And made such proofe, as I did of her heart,
You would esteeme it no disgrace at all,
Jsa.
Impudent slave—
But wee'l containe our spleene; but 'tis my griefe
To be excel'd in both; to have fail'd in one,
Had bin the lesse vexation.
Bona.
Oh, my faire Hellena!
Thou hast fil'd my soule with rapture, and releast me
From melancholly durance; Madam, what were they
That made this happy triall, and informd you
That truth, to make her this acknowledgement?
Isabel.
Behold them: these are the witnesses
Of my disgrace through Spaine.
Bona.
They're noble Lords,
By whose approved censures, you have made,
Her highnesse to confesse mine injuries.
At your returne, in what plight did you leave
Th'unequall'd Lady?
Cent.
Faith, in health of body.
Bona.
Be proud my genius on't.
Pin.
And lusty, wondrous lusty.
Bona.
Was she seene?
Cent.
Yes seene, and felt, and heard, and understood,
We found her a Noune Substantive.
Bona.
Oh, my blood! why flyest thou from my hears?
Cent.
Yet she stood,
And by her selfe too, when she was alone,
But lighting upon company she leak't,
Poore prostitute, she fell.
Bona.
Vnriddle me, and let me know thy meaning.
Cent.
Then in plaine—your Mistresse is a Whore.
Bona.
Centella spak't.
Cent.
And will mak't good, More Bonavida, mine,
My prostitute, most base and mercenary,
Bowing her lust beneath the price of gold,
For a few Spanish Ryalls.
Bona.
Oh, my rage!
Whether wilt thou transport me? Villaine, Dog,
False and unworthy any noble style,
Cent.
Oh, Sir, anon I hope you'l have more patience.
Bona.
Patience Devill?
Let if flie to th'Antipodes, and we
Wrastle in wrath and fury, that base lie
I'le stab with my steelet to downe thy throate,
And make thee swallow both.
Pin.
You are now heated: a little pawse will coole you.
Bona.
King, 'tis false,
Beleeve him not great Princesse, 'tis injust;
Vnlesse an Angell should descend and speak't,
And for an instance streight produce that Ring,
It wins with me no credence.
Isabel.
Know you that?
Bona.
Ha, this—I doe, and therewithall dare sweare
That there's no faith in woman.
Isa.
Ha, ha, ha: what thinks the great censorious carper now?
Bona.
That there's not one (give my alleageance leave)
I durst suspect even you, since she is falne.
Isabel.
Ha; what of us?
Bona.
That I have callumnis'd,
Your fame and vertue, that I merit death,
That I am now profest Antagonist,
(Saving your majesty) to all your sex,
That I am weary now the ayre I breath,
And should you grant it Madam, would not live,
That I no better than a Traytor am,
And in the highest degree, have injur'd these,
But most, your sacred selfe: if for all these
You doe not mount me on the publicke scaffold,
I will lay violent hands on my selfe:
I beg my merited doome, my sentence crave,
Which with severest rigour let me have.
Isa.
We limit thee two dayes for thy repentance,
The third's thy death.
Bona.
My Hellena prove base?
Mount thoughts towards heaven, you have on earth no place.
Sebast.
He hath but what he merits.
And great prince,
Now boast your selfe 'bove Brutus, Collatine.
Or those most famous for their constant wives,
And I my selfe unequal'd and unpeer'd
May on the earth a blazing Comet shine,
Seeming 'mongst others terren sole divine.
Our trusty friends and subjects henceforth live
In our highest grace, and trust: how we will right
You that for zeale to us have injur'd beene
In our apparant justice shall bee seene.
Exeunt.
Enter Petrocella, Valladaura.
Vall.
You sent for me.
Petro.
I did, to tell thee a word of which no eare is worthy
but thine owne, I love thee.
Vall.
Possible, vexation should take new shapes to haunt me,
you love me, come, this jeast might passe upon one of Cupids fashions,
but I being a sound Sophister in the art, am too familiar
with your fallacies, to credit them or you.
Petro.
Let not your comming betray your folly, though it be
common with Ladies, twould shew very ill in a Courtier. I confesse
I seem'd strange to you, till I was acquainted with your
worth.
Val.
How grew that acquaintance, 'twas without my knowledg?
Pet.
Not to dissemble, some impulsive Nuntio's have wrought
very strangely for you: but examine not particulars: suffice, I say
I love you, and you dare not take my word, I can put you in no
better security.
Vall.
I desire none, onely, but silence, you have vouchsafd mee
a happinesse, beyond merit or expectation.
Petr.
Y'are the more beholding to me, and curtesie that comes
from a woman freely, is worth twenty pleasures inforc't, neither
would I have you taxe my love of immodesty: nor think I purpose
to make you pay for the nursery of another mans pleasure,
though it be common with some at Court; I have a kind of thing
within me cal'd conscience, only I love you, and out of a compassionate
charity purpose to marry you.
Vall.
H'as don't to purpose, I know not how to take you Lady.
Petro.
Ene as you find me, that's with more faults than vertues:
but see, my father and some of my best friends, to whom I have
read the story of my love, come in person to dispatch the
Nuptialls.
Vall.
Then I presume y'are earnest, sir I must call you father.
Ald.
And never miscall me, if shee be thy wife as I thinke shee
will be.
Vall.
With your consent.
Ald.
Get hers, it's not a straw matter for mine, and yet to
make her no worse than she is, I must needs say shee will doe
any thing she list her selfe in spite of my beard, my further Honour
still: but take her to thee, I thought so, as soone as
ever I saw thee smacke, I knew 'twould prove a match and now
'tis out, my further honour still.
Petr.
Out before 'tis throughly lighted? such matches were nere
kindled at Hymens altar, have you sufficient certificate of my
love now?
Vall.
Yes sweet, and now my resolutions wings
Flie with some Fethers: thou the man must joyne us?
Fer.
Yes, and divide my selfe from happinesse, this hand
Must forth my bosom pluck a blessednesse
And place it in anothers,—are you ready?
Vall.
To shake thine Honour, which 'gins faint already,
We are, set on, let musicke speake aloud,
At such chast Vnions Jove himselfe is proud.
Musicke sounds, while Ferrers in the habit of a Churchman joynes them, they all exit.
Fer.
Awake? or in a dreame? I hope the last,
The god of marriage would not see his shrine
So much abus'd, the hallow'd lights burn out
Themselves in anger, and the Cov'nant Booke
Dropt downe for shame, my hand shooke, and my tongue
Like a false evidence before a judge
Faltred, and gave it selfe the lie, and yet
Oh, could I throw my griefe as easily from me,
As I do thee, nere did religions share,
Count'nance or shelter such a horrid act.
Enter Valladaura.
Vall.
Friend Ferrers—
Fer.
Ha? that very accent, friend,
Gives my faint feares the lie, and writes my act
Noble and lawfull: had I giv'n him my life
'Twas but his owne.
Vall.
Will not this Marble weepe?
Nor shed a teare yet? Not? he quite outdares me,
In noble curtesies, all my attempts
Like curses shall against the winde flie back
In mine owne face and soile it. Noble Ferrers
Thy manly undertakings halfe perswade me
Th'art more than man
Fer.
Mine? 'las, I have done nothing
Worthy your least good thought: if you (or hell)
Can finde a service to injoine your slave
More hard (or damnable) that may become
(The Devill to will) a servant to effect,
Vrge one more triall.
Vall.
And with that Ile claime thee
King of thy selfe and thy affections.
And thus it is, for reasons yet conceal'd
And strangely working in my mutinous thoughts,
I would, and yet tis a request nor fitting
Me to enjoyne, nor thee to practise.
Fer.
Name it.
And if I doe't not—
Vall.
I am asham'd to owne it,
Tis so uncomely and beyond the strength
Of man to act: yet in a word, this night
Thou shalt (denie't not) under my name and habit,
Sleepe in my marriage sheets and with my wife.
Fer.
Sleepe with your wife? and is that all?
Vall.
Yes, all
That I allow, if after I shall prove,
All thy past worth is blemish'd, never demand
The reason on't, that's buried.
Ferr.
I will do't; sleepe with your wife? Ile do't,
No Eunuke like mee.
Valla.
Shee's now gone to her Chamber,
Ladies and all have left her, under this clowd,
Goe shrow'd thy selfe.
Ferr.
'Tis done,
How ere I sett, Ile rise bright honors sonne
Exeunt.
| A Challenge for Beavtie | |