University of Virginia Library

SCENA TERTIA.

Enter Antonio with a booke, Lucio, Alberto, Antonio in blacke.
Alb.
Nay sweet be comforted, take counsell and

Ant.
Alberto, peace: that griefe is wanton sick,
Whose stomacke can digest and brooke the dyet
Of stale ill relisht counsell. Pigmie cares
Can shelter vnder patience shield: but gyant griefes
Will burst all couert.

Lu.
My Lord, tis supper time.

Ant.
Drinke deepe Alberto: eate, good Lucio:
But my pin'd heart shall eat on naught but woe.

Alb.
My Lord, we dare not leaue you thus alone.

Ant.
You cannot leaue Antonio alone.
The chamber of my breast is euen throngd,
With firme attendance, that forsweares to flinch.
I haue a thing sits here; it is not griefe,
Tis not despaire, nor the most plague
That the most wretched are infected with:
But the most greefull, despairing, wretched,
Accursed, miserable. O, for heauens sake
Forsake me now; you see how light I am,
And yet you force me to defame my patience.

Lu.
Faire gentle prince

Ant.
Away, thy voice is hatefull: thou dost buzze,
And beat my eares with intimations
That Mellida, that Mellida is light,
And stained with adulterous luxury:
I cannot brook't. I tell the Lucio,
Sooner will I giue faith, that vertue's scant
In princes courts, will be adorn'd with wreath
Of choyce respect, and indeerd intimate.
Sooner will I beleeue that friendships raine.
Will curbe ambition from vtilitie,
Then Mellida is light. Alas poore soule,
Didst ere see her (good heart) hast heard her speake?
Kinde, kinde soule. Incredulitie it selfe
Would not be so brasse hearted, as suspect so modest cheeks

Lu.
My Lord

Ant.
Away, a selfe-one guilt doth onely hatch distrust:
But a chaste thought's as farre from doubt, as lust.
I intreat you leaue me.

Alb.
Will you endeauour to forget your griefe?

Ant.
I faith I will, good friend, I faith I will.
Ile come and eate with you. Alberto, see,
I am taking Physicke, heer's Philosophie.
Good honest leaue me, Ile drinke wine anone.

Alb.
Since you enforce vs, faire prince, we are gone.

Exeunt Alberto and Lucio.
Antonio reades.
A.

Ferte fortiter: hoc est quo deum antecedatis. Ille enim extra
patientiam malorum; vos supra. Contemnite dolorem: aut
soluetur, aut soluet. Contemnite fortunā: nullū telū, quo
feriret animum habet.

Mell.
Aye me.

Ant.
And curse.

Pan.
Black powers.

Ant.
And cry.

Ma.
O heauen.

Ant.
And close laments with

Alb.
O me most miserable.

Pan.
Woe for my deare deare sonne.

Mar.
Woe for my deare, deare husband.

Mel.
Woe for my deare deare loue.

Ant.
Woe for me all, close all your woes in me:
In me Antonio, ha? Where liue these sounds?
I can see nothing; griefe's inuisible,
And lurkes in secret angles of the heart.
Come sigh againe, Antonio beares his part.

Mell.
O here, here is a vent to passe my sighes.
I haue surcharg'd the dungeon with my plaints.
Prison, and heart will burst, if void of vent.
I, that is Phœbe, empresse of the night,
That gins to mount; ô chastest deitie:
If I be false to my Antonio,
If the least soyle of lust smeers my pure loue,
Make me more wretched, make me more accurst
Then infamie, torture, death, hell and heauen
Can bound with amplest power of thought: if not,
Purge my poore heart, with defamations blot.

Ant.
Purge my poore heart from defamations blot!
Poore heart, how like her vertuous selfe she speakes.
Mellida, deare Mellida, it is Antonio:
Slinke not away, tis thy Antonio.

Mel.
How found you out, my Lord (alas) I knowe
Tis easie in this age, to finde out woe.
I haue a sute to you.

Ant.
What is't, deare soule?

Mell.
Kill me, I faith Ile winke, not stir a iot.
For God sake kill mee: insooth, lou'd youth,
I am much iniur'd; looke, see how I creepe.
I cannot wreake my wrong, but sigh and weepe.

An.
May I be cursed, but I credit thee.

Mell.
To morrowe I must die.

An.
Alas, for what?

Mell.
For louing thee; tis true my sweetest breast.
I must die falsely: so must thou, deare heart.
Nets are a knitting to intrappe thy life.
Thy fathers death must make a Paradice
To my (I shame to call him) father. Tell me sweet,
Shall I die thine? dost loue mee still, and still?

Ant.
I doe.

Mell.
Then welcome heauens will.

Ant.

Madam, I will not swell like a Tragedian, in forced
passion of affected straines.

If I had present power of ought but pittying you, I
would be as readie to redresse your wrongs, as to pursue
your loue. Throngs of thoughts crowde for their
passage, somewhat I will doe.

Reach me thy hand: thinke this is honors bent,
To liue vnslau'd, to die innocent.

Mel.
Let me entreat a fauour, gratious loue.
Be patient, see me die, good doe not weepe:
Goe sup, sweete chuck, drinke, and securely sleepe.

Ant.
I faith I cannot, but Ile force my face
To palliate my sicknesse.

Mell.
Giue me thy hand. Peace on thy bosome dwel:
Thats all my woe can breath: kisse. Thus farewell.

Ant.
Farewell: my heart is great of thoughts,
Stay doue:
And therefore I must speake: but what? ô Loue!
By this white hand: eno more: reade in these teares,
What crushing anguish thy Antonio beares.

Antonio kisseth Mellida's hand: then Mellida goes from the grate.
Mel.
God night good harte,

Ant.
Thus heate from blood, thus soules from bodies part.

Enter Piero and Strozzo.
Pie.
He greeues, laughe Strozzo: laugh, he weepes.
Hath he teares? ô pleasure! hath he teares?
Now doe I scourge Andrugio with steele whips
Of knottie vengeance. Strozzo, cause me straight
Some plaining dittie to augment despaire.
Tryumph Piero: harke, he groanes, ô rare!

Ant.
Beholde a prostrate wretch laid on his toumbe.
His Epitaph, thus; Ne plus vltra. Ho.
Let none out woe me: mine's Herculean woe.

CANTANT.
Exit Piero at the end of the song.