 | Antonio's Reuenge |  |
SCENA QVARTA.
Enter Maria.Ant.
May I be more cursed then heauen can make me;
If I am not more wretched
Then man can conceiue me. Sore forlorne
Orphant, what omnipotence can make thee happie?
Mar.
How now sweete sonne? good youth,
what dost thou?
Ant.
Weepe, weepe.
Mar.
Dost naught but weepe, weepe?
Ant.
Yes mother, I do sigh, and wring my hands,
Beat my poore breast, and wreath my tender armes.
Harke yee; Ile tel you wondrous strange, strāge news.
Ma.
What my good boy, starke mad?
Ant.
I am not.
Ma.
Alas, is that strange newes?
Strange news? why mother, is't not wondrous strange
I am not mad? I run not frantick, ha?
Knowing my fathers trunke scarce colde, your loue
Is sought by him that doth pursue my life?
Seeing the beautie of creation,
Antonio's bride, pure heart, defam'd, and stoad
Vnder the hatches of obscuring earth.
Heu quo labor, quo vota ceciderunt mea!
Enter Piero.
Pie.
Good euening to the faire Antonio,
Most happie fortune, sweete succeeding time,
Rich hope: think not thy fate a bankrout though
Ant.
Vmh, the diuell in his good time and tide forsake
thee.
Pie.
How now? harke yee Prince.
An.
God be with you.
Pie.
Nay, noble blood, I hope yee not suspect
An.
Suspect, I scorn't. Here's cap & leg; good night:
Thou that wants power, with dissemblance fight.
Exit Antonio.
Pier.
Madam, O that you could remēber to forget
Ma.
I had a husband and a happie sonne.
Pi.
Most powreful beautie, that inchanting grace
Ma.
Talke not of beautie, nor inchanting grace.
My husband's deade, my son's distraught, accurst.
Come, I must vent my griefes, or heart will burst.
Exit Maria.
Pie.
Shee's gone (& yet she's here) she hath left a print
Of her sweete graces fixt within my heart,
As fresh as is her face. Ile marrie her.
Most faire, tis firme Ile marrie her.
| Antonio's Reuenge | |