University of Virginia Library

ACT. III.

SCEN. I.

A dumbe showe. The cornets sounding for the Acte.
Enter Castilio and Forobosco, Alberto and Balurdo, with polaxes: Strozzo talking with Piero, seemeth to send out Strotzo. Exit Strotzo. Enter Strotzo, Maria, Nutriche, and Luceo. Piero passeth through his guard, and talkes with her with seeming amorousnesse: she seemeth to reiect his suite, flyes to the toumbe, kneeles, and kisseth it. Piero bribes Nutriche and Lucio: they goe to her, seeming to solicite his suite. She riseth, offers to goe out, Piero stayeth her, teares open his breast, imbraceth and kisseth her, and so they goe all out in State.
Enter two pages, the one with two tapers, the other with a chafing dish: a perfume in it. Antonio, in his night gowne, and a night cap, vnbrac't, following after.
An.
The black iades of swart night trot foggy rings

Bout heauens browe. (12) Tis now starke
deade night.

Is this Saint Markes Church?

1. Pa.
It is, my Lord.

Ant.
Where stands my fathers hearse?

2. Pa.
Those streamers beare his armes. I, that is it.

Ant.
Set tapers to the toumbe, & lampe the Church.
Giue me the fire. Now depart and sleepe.
Exeunt pages.
I purifie the ayre with odorous fume.
Graues, valts, and toumbes, groane not to beare my weight,
Colde flesh, bleake trunkes, wrapt in your half-rot shrowdes,
I presse you softly, with a tender foote.
Most honour'd sepulchre, vouchsafe a wretch,
Leaue to weepe ore thee. Toumb, Ile not be long
Ere I creepe in thee, and with bloodlesse lips
Kisse my cold fathers cheeke. I pree thee, graue,
Prouide soft mould to wrap my carcasse in.
Thou royal spirit of Andrugio, where ere thou houerst
(Ayrie intellectt) I heaue vp tapers to thee (viewe thy son)
In celebration of dewe obsequies.
Once euery night, Ile dewe thy funerall hearse
With my religious teares,
O blessed father of a cursed son,
Thou diedst most happie, since thou liuedst not
To see thy sonne most wretched, and thy wife
Pursu'd by him that seekes my guiltlesse blood.
O, in what orbe thy mightie spirit soares,
Stoop and beat downe this rising fog of shame,
That striues to blur thy blood, and girt defame
About my innocent and spotlesse browes.
Non est mori miserum, sed miserè mori.

And.
Thy pangs of anguish rip my cerecloth vp:
And loe the ghoast of ould Andrugio
Forsakes his coffin. Antonio, reuenge.
I was impoyson'd by Piero's hand:
Reuenge my bloode; take spirit gentle boy:
Reuenge my bloode. Thy Mellida, is chaste:
Onely to frustrate thy pursuite in loue,
Is blaz'd vnchaste. Thy mother yeelds consent
To be his wife, & giue his bloode a sonne,
That made her husbandlesse, and doth complot
To make her sonlesse: but before I touch
The banks of rest, my ghost shall visite her.
Thou vigor of my youth, iuyce of my loue,
Seize on reuenge, graspe the sterne bended front
Of frowning vengeance, with vnpaized clutch.
Alarum Nemesis, rouze vp thy blood,
Inuent some stratageme of vengeance:
Which but to thinke on, may like lightning glide,
With horor through thy breast; remember this.
Scelera non vlcisceris, nisi vincis.

Exit Andrugio's ghost.

SCENA SECVNDA.

Enter Maria, her haire about her eares: Nutriche, and Lucio, with Pages, and torches.
Ma.
VVhere left you him? shewe mee good boyes, away.

Nut.
Gods mee, your haire.

Ma.

Ma.
Alas my son's distraught. Sweete boy appease
Thy mutining affections.

Ant.
By the astonning terror of swart night,
By the infectious damps of clammie graues,
And by the mould that presseth downe
My deade fathers sculle: Ile be reueng'd.

Ma.
Wherefore? on whom? for what? go, go to bed
Good dutious sonne. Ho, but thy idle

An.
So I may sleepe toumb'd in an honour'd hearse,
So may my bones rest in that Sepulcher,

Ma.
Forget not dutie sonne: to bed, to bed.

An.
May I be cursed by my fathers ghost,
And blasted with incensed breath of heauen,
If my heart beat on ought but vengeance,
May I be numd with horror, and my vaines
Pucker with sing'ing torture, if my braine
Disgest a thought, but of dire vengeance:
May I be fetter'd slaue to coward Chaunce,
If blood, heart, braine, plot ought saue vengeance.

Ma.
Wilt thou to bed? I wonder when thou sleepst.
Ifaith thou look'st sunk-ey'd; go couch thy head:
Now faith tis idle: sweet, sweet sonne to bed.

Ant.
I haue a prayer or two, to offer vp,
For the good, good Prince, my most deare, dear Lord,
The Duke Piero, and your vertuous selfe:
And then when those prayers haue obtain'd successe,
In sooth Ile come (beleeue it now) and couch
My heade in downie moulde: but first Ile see
You safely laide. Ile bring yee all to bed.
Piero, Maria, Strotzo, Luceo,
Ile see you all laid: Ile bringe you all to bed,
And then, ifaith, Ile come and couch my head,
And sleepe in peace.

Ma.
Looke then, wee goe before.

Exeunt all but Antonio.
Ant.
I, so you must, before we touch the shore
Of wisht reuenge. O you departed soules,
That lodge in coffin'd trunkes, which my feet presse
(If Pythagorian Axiomes be true,
Of spirits transmigration) fleete no more
To humane bodies, rather liue in swine,
Inhabit wolues flesh, scorpions, dogs, and toads,
Rather then man. The curse of heauen raines
In plagues vnlimitted through all his daies.
His mature age growes onely mature vice,
And ripens onely to corrupt and rot
The budding hopes of infant modestie.
Still striuing to be more then man, he prooues
More then a diuell, diuelish suspect, diuelish crueltie:
All hell-straid iuyce is powred to his vaines,
Making him drunke with fuming surquedries,
Contempt of heauen, vntam'd arrogance,
Lust, state, pride, murder.

And.
Murder.

Fel.
Murder.

Pa.
Murder.

From aboue and beneath.
Ant.
I, I will murder: graues and ghosts
Fright me no more, Ile suck red vengeance
Out of Pieros wounds Piero's wounds.

Enter two boyes, with Piero in his night gown & night cap.
Pie.
Maria, loue Maria: she tooke this Ile.
Left you her here? On lights away:
I thinke we shall not warme our beds to day.

Enter Iulio, Forobosco, and Castilio.
Iul.
Ho, father? father?

Pie.
How now Iulio, my little prettie sonne?
Why suffer you the childe to walke so late.

Foro.
He will not sleepe, but cals to followe you,
Crying that bug-beares & spirits haunted him.

Antonio offers to come, nere and stab, Piero presently withdrawes.
Ant.
No, not so.
This shall be sought for; Ile force him feede on life
Till he shall loath it. This shall be the close.
Of vengeance straine.

Pie.
Away there: Pages, leade on fast with light.
The Church is full of damps: tis yet deade night.

Exit all, sauing Iulio.

SCENA TERTIA.

Iul.
Brother Antonio, are you here ifaith?
Why doe you frowne? Indeed my sister said,
That I should call you brother, that she did,
When you were married to her. Busse me; good
Truth, I loue you better then my father, deede.

Ant.
Thy father? Gratious, ô bounteous heauen!
I doe adore thy Iustice; Venit in nostras manus
Tandem vindicta, venit & tota quidem.

Iul.
Truth, since my mother dyed, I lou'd you best.
Something hath angred you; pray you look merily.

Ant.
I will laugh, and dimple my thinne cheeke,
With capring ioy; chuck, my heart doth leape
To graspe thy bosome. Time, place, and blood,
How fit you close togither! Heauens tones
Strike not such musick to immortall soules,
As your accordance sweetes my breast withall.
Me thinks I pase vpon the front of Ioue,
And kick corruption with a scornefull heele,
Griping this flesh, disdaine mortalitie.
O that I knewe which ioynt, which side, which lim
Were father all, and had no mother in't:
That I might rip it vaine by vaine; and carue reuenge
In bleeding races: but since 'tis mixt together,
Haue at aduenture, pel mell, no reuerse.
Come hither boy. This is Andrugio's hearse.

Iul.
O God, youle hurt me. For my sisters sake,
Pray you doe not hurt me. And you kill me, deede,
Ile tell my father

An.
O, for thy sisters sake, I flagge reuenge.

Andr.
Reuenge.

Ant.
Stay, stay, deare father, fright mine eyes no more.
Reuenge as swift as lightning bursteth forth,
And cleares his heart. Come, prettie tender childe,
It is not thee I hate, not thee I kill.
Thy fathers blood that flowes within thy veines,
Is it I loath; is that, Reuenge must sucke.
I loue thy soule: and were thy heart lapt vp
In any flesh, but in Piero's bloode,
I would thus kisse it: but being his: thus, thus,
And thus Ile punch it, Abandon feares.
Whil'st thy wounds bleede, my browes shall gush out teares.

Iuli.
So you will loue me, doe euen what you will.

Ant.

Now barkes the Wolfe against the full cheekt
Moone.

Now Lyons halfe-clamd entrals roare for food.
Now croakes the toad, & night crowes screech aloud,
Fluttering 'bout casements of departing soules.
Now gapes the graues, and through their yawnes let loose
Imprison'd spirits to reuisit earth:
And now swarte night, to swell thy hower out,
Behold I spurt warme bloode in thy blacke eyes.

From vnder the stage agroane.
Ant.
Howle not thou pury mould, groan not ye graues.
Be dumbe all breath. Here stands Andrugio's sonne,
Worthie his father. So: I feele no breath.
His iawes are falne, his dislodg'd soule is fled:
And now there's nothing, but Piero, left.
He is all Piero, father all. This blood,
This breast, this heart, Piero all:
Whome thus I mangle. Spright of Iulyo,
Forget this was thy trunke. I liue thy friend.
Maist thou be twined with the softst imbrace
Of cleare eternitie: but thy fathers blood,
I thus make incense of, to vengeance.
Ghost of my poysoned Syre, sucke this fume:
To sweete reuenge perfume thy circling ayre,
With smoake of bloode. I sprinkle round his goare,
And dewe thy hearse, with these fresh reeking drops.
Loe thus I heaue my blood-died handes to heauen:
Euen like insatiate hell, still crying; More.
My heart hath thirsting Dropsies after goare.

Sound peace, and rest, to Church, night ghosts, and
graues.

Blood cries for bloode; and murder murder craues.

SCENA QVARTA.

Enter two Pages with torches. Marya, her hayre loose, and Nutriche.
Nut.

Fy, fie; to morrowe your wedding day, and
weepe! Gods my comfort. Andrugio could do
well: Piero may doe better. I haue had foure husbands

my selfe. The first I called, Sweete Duck; the second,
Deare Heart; the third, Prettie Pugge: But the fourth
most sweete, deare, prettie, all in all: he was the verie
cockeall of a husband. What, Ladie? your skinne is
smooth, your bloode warme, your cheeke fresh, your
eye quick: change of pasture makes fat calues: choice
of linnen, cleane bodies; and (no question) variety of
husbands perfect wiues. I would you should knowe
it, as fewe teeth as I haue in my heade, I haue red Aristotles
Problemes, which saith; that woman receiueth
perfection by the man. What then be the men? Goe
to, to bed, lye on your backe, dream not on Piero. I say
no more: to morrowe is your wedding: doe, dreame
not of Piero.

Enter Balurdo with a base Vyole.
Ma.

What an idle prate thou keep'st? good nurse
goe sleepe.

I haue a mightie taske of teares to weepe.

Bal.

Ladie, with a most retort and obtuse legge
I kisse the curled locks of your loose haire. The Duke
hath sent you the most musicall sir Gefferey, with his
not base, but most innobled Viole, to rock your baby
thoughts in the Cradle of sleepe.

Ma.

I giue the noble Duke respectiue thanks.

Bal.

Respectiue; truely a verie prettie word. Indeed
Madam, I haue the most respectiue fiddle. Did you euer
smell a more sweete sounde. My dittie must goe
thus; verie wittie, I assure you: I my selfe in an humorous
passion made it, to the tune of my mistresse Nutriches
beautie. Indeede, verie prettie, verie retort, and

obtuse; Ile assure you tis thus.

Mar.
Truelie, verie patheticall, and vnuulgar.

Ba.

Patheticall, and vnuulgar; words of worth, excellent
words. In sooth, Madam, I haue taken a murre,
which makes my nose run most patheticallie, and vnvulgarlie.
Haue you anie Tobacco?

Ma.
Good Signior, your song.

Ba.
Instantlie, most vnvulgarlie, at your seruice.
Truelie, here's the most patheticall rozzen. Vmh.

CANTANT.
Ma.
In sooth, most knightlie sung, & like sir Gefferey.

Ba.

Why, looke you Ladie, I was wade a knight only
for my voice; & a counseller, only for my wit.

Ma.

I beleeue it. God night, gentle sir, god night.

Bal.

You will giue me leaue to take my leaue of my
mistresse, and I will do it most famously in rime.

Exit Balurdo.

Ma.
God night Nutriche. Pages, leaue the roome.
The life of night growes short, tis almost dead.
Exeunt Pages and Nutriche.
O thou cold widdowe bed, sometime thrice blest,
By the warme pressure of my sleeping Lord:
Open thy leaues, and whilst on thee I treade,
Groane out. Alas, my deare Andrugio's deade.
Maria draweth the courtaine: and the ghost of Andrugio is displayed, sitting on the bed.
Amazing terror, what portent is this?

SCENA QVINTA.

And.
Disloyal to our Hymniall rites,
What raging heat rains in thy strūpet blood?
Hast thou so soone forgot Andrugio?
Are our loue-bands so quickly cancelled?
Where liues thy plighted faith vnto this breast?
O weake Marya! Go to, calme thy feares.
I pardon thee, poore soule, O shed no teares,
Thy sexe is weake. That black incarnate fiende
May trippe thy faith, that hath orethrowne my life:
I was impoyson'd by Piero's hand.
Ioyne with my sonne, to bend vp straind reuenge.
Maintaine a seeming fauour to his suite,
Till time may forme our vengeance absolute.

Enter Antonio, his armes bloody: a torch and a poniard.
An.
See, vnamaz'd, I will beholde thy face,
Outstare the terror of thy grimme aspect,
Daring the horred'st obiect of the night.
Looke how I smoake in blood, reeking the steame
Of foming vengeance. O my soule's inthroan'd
In the tryumphant chariot of reuenge.
Me thinks I am all ayre, and feele no waight
Of humane dirt clogge. This is Iulios bloode.
Rich musique, father; this is Iulio's blood.
Why liues that mother?

And.
Pardon ignorance. Fly deare Antonio:
Once more assume disguise, and dog the Court
In fained habit, till Piero's blood
May euen ore-flowe the brimme of full reuenge.
Exit Antonio.
Peace, and all blessed fortunes to you both.
Fly thou from Court, be pearelesse in reuenge:
Sleepe thou in rest, loe here I close thy couch.
Exit Maria to her bed, Andrugio drawing the Curtaines.
And now yee sootie coursers of the night,
Hurrie your chariot into hels black wombe.
Darkenesse, make flight; Graues, eat your dead again:
Let's repossesse our shrowdes. Why lags delay?
Mount sparkling brightnesse, giue the world his day.
Exit Andrugio.