 | Antonio's Reuenge |  |
ACT. V.
SCEN. I.
Enter at one dore, Castilio and Forobosco, with halberts: foure Pages with torches: Luceo bare: Piero, Maria and Alberto, talking: Alberto drawes out his dagger, Maria her knife, ayming to menace the Duke. Then Galeatzo betwixt two Senators, reading a paper to them: at which, they all make semblance of loathing Piero, and knit their fists at him; two Ladies and Nutriche: all these goe softly ouer the Stage, whilst at the other doore enters the ghost of Andrugio, who passeth by them, tossing his torch about his heade in triumph. All forsake the Stage, sauing Andrugio, who speaking, begins the Acte.And.
Venit dies, tempúsque, quo reddat suis
Animam squallentem sceleribus.
The fist of strenuous vengeance is clutcht,
And sterne Vindicta towreth vp aloft,
That she may fal with a more waightie paise,
And crush liues sap from out Pieros vaines.
Wheale to a heade: now is his fate growne mellow,
Instant to fall into the rotten iawes
Of chap-falne death. Now downe lookes prouidēce,
T'attend the last act of my sons reuenge.
Be gratious, Obseruation, to our sceane:
For now the plot vnites his scattred limbes
Close in contracted bands. The Florence Prince
(Drawne by firme notice of the Dukes black deeds)
Is made a partner in conspiracie.
The States of Venice are so swolne in hate
Against the Duke, for his accursed deeds
(Of which they are confirm'd by some odde letters
Found in dead Strotzos studie, which had past
Betwixt Piero and the murdring slaue)
That they can scarce retaine from bursting foorth
In plaine reuolt. O, now tryumphes my ghost;
Exclaiming, heauen's iust; for I shall see,
The scourge of murder and impietie.
Exit.
SCENA SECVNDA.
Balurdo from vnder the Stage.Bal.
Hoe, who's aboue there, hoe? A murren on
all Prouerbes. They say, hunger breakes thorough
stone walles; but I am as gant, as leane ribd famine:
yet I can burst through no stone walles. O, now
sir Gefferey, shewe thy valour, breake prison, and be
the discontented sir Balurdos ghost. Well, I am out
well, I haue put off the prison to put on the rope. O
poore shotten herring, what a pickle art thou in! O
hunger, how thou dominer'st in my guts! O, for a fat
leg of Ewe mutton in stewde broth; or drunken song
to feede on. I could belch rarely, for I am all winde.
O colde, colde, colde, colde, colde. O poore knight,
ô poore sir Gefferey; sing like an Vnicorne, before
thou dost dip thy horne in the water of death; ô cold,
ô sing, ô colde, ô poore sir Geffrey, sing, sing.
CANTAT.
SCENA TERTIA.
Enter Antonio and Alberto, at seuerall doores, their rapiers drawne, in their masking attyre.Ant.
Vindicta.
Alb.
Mellida.
Ant.
Alberto.
Alb.
Antonio.
Ant.
Hath the Duke supt?
Alb.
Yes, and tryumphant reuels mount aloft.
The Duke drinkes deepe to ouerdowe his griefe.
The court is rackt to pleasure, each man straines
To faine a iocund eye. The Florentine
Young Galeatzo?
Alb.
Euen he is mightie on our part. The States of
Venice.
Enter Pandulpho running, in masking attyre.
Pan.
Like high-swoln floods, driue down the muddie
dammes
Heauen sits clapping of our enterprise.
I haue beene labouring generall fauour firme,
And I doe finde the citizens growne sick
With swallowing the bloodie crudities
Of black Pieros acts; they faine would cast
And vomit him from off their gouernement.
Now is the plot of mischiefe ript wide ope:
Letters are found twixt Strotzo and the Duke,
So cleare apparent: yet more firmely strong
By suiting circumstance; that as I walkt
Muffled, to eues-drop speech, I might obserue
The grauer States-men whispering fearefully.
Here one giues nods & hums, what he would speake:
The rumour's got 'mong troope of citizens,
Making lowde murmur, with confused dinne:
One shakes his head, and sighes; O ill vs'd powre:
Another frets, and sets his grinding teeth,
Foaming with rage; and sweares this must not be.
Here one complots, and on a sodaine starts,
And cries; ô monstrous, ô deepe villanie!
All knit there nerues, and from beneath swoln brows
Appeares a gloting eye of much mislike:
Whilst swart Pieros lips reake steame of wine,
With strong imagination of, what not?
O, now Vindicta; that's the word we haue:
A royall vengeance, or a royall graue.
Ant.
Vindicta.
Bal.
I am a colde.
Pan.
Who's there? sir Geffrey?
Ba.
A poor knight, god wot: the nose of thy knight-hoode
is bitten off with cold. O poore sir Geffrey, cold,
cold.
Pan.
What chance of fortune hath tript vp his heels,
And laid him in the kennell? ha?
Alb.
I will discourse it all. Poore honest soule,
Hadst thou a beuer to clasp vp thy face,
Thou shouldst associate vs in masquery,
And see reuenge.
Ba.
Nay, and you talke of reuenge, my stomack's vp,
For I am most tyrannically hungry. A beuer? I haue
a headpeece, a skull, a braine of proofe, I warrant yee.
Alb.
Slinke to my chamber then, and tyre thee.
Bal.
Is there a fire?
Alb.
Yes.
Bal.
Is there a fat leg of Ewe mutton?
Alb.
Yes.
Bal.
And a cleane shirt?
Alb.
Yes.
Exit.
Bal.
Then am I for you, most pathetically, & vnvulgarly, law.
Ant.
Resolued hearts, time curtals night, opportunity
shakes vs his foretop. Steel your thoughts, sharp your
resolue, imboldē your spirit, grasp your swords; alarum
mischief, & with an vndāted brow, out scout the grim
Harke here, proud pomp shoots mounting tryumph vp,
Borne in lowde accents to the front of Ioue.
Pan.
O now, he that wants sowle to kill a slaue,
Let him die slaue, and rot in pesants graue.
Ant.
Giue me thy hand, and thine, most noble heart,
Thus will wee liue, and, but thus, neuer part.
Exeunt twin'd together.
Cornets sound a Cynet.
SCENA QVARTA.
Enter Castilio and Forobosco, two Pages with torches, Lucio bare, Piero and Maria, Galeatzo, two Senators and Nutriche.Piero to Maria.
Pie.
Sit close vnto my breast, heart of my loue,
Aduance thy drooping eyes,
Thy sonne is drownde,
Rich happinesse that such a sonne is drownde.
Thy husband's deade, life of my ioyes most blest,
In that the saplesse logge, that prest thy bed
With a vnpleasing waight, being lifted hence,
Euen I Piero, liue to warme his place.
I tell you, Ladie, had you view'd vs both,
With an vnprtiall eye, when first we woo'd
Your maiden beauties, I had borne the prize,
Ma.
Murder.
Pie.
Which he would quake to haue aduentur'd;
Thou know'st I haue.
Mari.
Murdred my husband.
Pier.
Borne out the shock of war, & done, what not,
That valour durst. Do'st loue me fairest? say.
Ma.
As I doe hate my son, I loue thy soule.
Pie.
Why then Io to Hymen, mount a loftie note:
Fill red cheekt Bacchus, let Lyeus flote
In burnisht gobblets. Force the plump lipt god,
Skip light lauoltaes in your full sapt vaines.
Tis well brim full. Euen I haue glut of blood:
Let quaffe carouse; I drinke this Burdeaux wine
Vnto the health of deade Andrugio,
Feliche, Strotzo, and Antonios ghosts.
Would I had some poyson to infuse it with;
That hauing done this honour to the dead,
I might send one to giue them notice ont.
I would indeere my fauour to the full.
Boy, sing alowd, make heauens vault to ring
With thy breaths strength. I drink. Now lowdly sing.
CANTAT.
The song ended, the Cornets sound a Cynet.
SCENA QVINTA.
Pie.
Call Iulio hither; where's the little sowle?
I sawe him not to day. Here's sport alone
For him, ifaith; for babes and fooles, I know,
Relish not substance, but applaud the showe.
To the conspirators as they stand in ranke for the measure.
To Antonio.
Gal.
All blessed fortune crown your braue attempt.
To Pandulpho.
I haue a troope to second your attempt.
To Alberto.
The Venice States ioyne hearts vnto your hands.
Pie.
By the delights in contemplation
Of comming ioyes, 'tis magnificent.
Your grace my mariage eue with sumptuous pompe.
Sound still, lowde musick. O, your breath giues grace
To curious feete, that in proud measure pase.
Ant.
Mother, is Iulios bodie
Ma.
Speake not, doubt not; all is aboue all hope.
Ant.
Then will I daunce and whirle about the ayre.
Me thinks I am all sowle, all heart, all spirit.
Now murder shall receiue his ample merite.
The measure.
While the measure is dauncing, Andrugios ghost is placed betwixt the musick houses.
Bring hither suckets, canded delicates.
Weele taste some sweet meats, gallants, ere we sleep.
Ant.
Weele cooke your sweete meats, gallants,
with tart sower sawce.
And.
Here will I sit, spectator of reuenge,
And glad my ghost in anguish of my foe.
The maskers whisper with Piero.
Piero.
Marry and shall; ifaith I were too rude,
If I gainesaide so ciuill fashion.
The maskers pray you to forbeare the roome,
Till they haue banqueted. Let it be so:
No man presume to visite them, on death.
The maskers whisper againe.
Onely my selfe? O, why with all my heart.
Ile fill your consort; here Piero sits:
Come on, vnmaske, lets fall to
The conspirators binde Piero, pluck out his tongue, and tryumph ouer him.
Ant.
Murder and torture: no prayers, no entreats.
Pan.
Weele spoyle your oratory. Out with his tong.
Ant.
I haue't Pandulpho: the vaines panting bleede,
Trickling fresh goare about my fist. Bind fast; so, so.
And.
Blest be thy hand, I taste the ioyes of heauen,
Viewing my sonne tryumph in his blacke bloode.
Bal.
Downe to the dungeon with him, Ile duugeon
with him; Ile foole you: sir Gefferey will be sir Geffrey.
Ile tickle you.
Ant.
Beholde, black dogge.
Pan.
Grinst thou, thou snurling curre?
Alb.
Eate thy black liuer.
Ant.
To thine anguish see
Vex him Balurdo.
Pan.
He weepes: now doe I glorifie my hands,
I had no vengeance, if I had no teares.
Ant.
Fal to, good Duke. ô these are worthlesse cates,
You haue no stomack to them; looke, looke here:
Here lies a dish to feast thy fathers gorge.
Here's flesh and blood, which I am sure thou lou'st.
Piero seemes to condole his sonne
Pan.
Was he thy flesh, thy son, thy dearest sonne?
Ant.
So was Andrugio my dearest father.
Pan.
So was Feliche my dearest sonne.
Enter Maria.
Ma.
So was Andrugio my dearest husband.
Ant.
My father found no pittie in thy blood.
Pan.
Remorse was banisht, when thou slew'st my son.
Ma.
When thou impoysoned'st my louing Lord,
Exilde was pietie.
An.
Now, therefore, pittie, piety, remorse,
Be aliens to our thoughts: grim fier-ey'd rage
Possesse vs wholly.
Pan.
Thy son? true: and which is my most joy,
I hope no bastard, but thy very blood
Thy true begotten, most legitimate
And loued issue: there's the comfort ont.
Ant.
Scum of the mud of hell.
Alb.
Slime of all filth.
Mar.
Thou most detested toad.
Bal.
Thou most retort and obtuse rascall.
Ant.
Thus charge we death at thee: remember hel,
And let the howling murmurs of black spirits,
Affright thy sowle, as it descendeth downe
Into the intrals of the vgly deepe.
Pan.
Sa, sa; no, let him die, and die, and stil be dying,
They offer to runne all at Piero, and on a sodain stop.
And yet not die, till he hath di'd and di'd
Ten thousand deathes in agonie of heart.
An.
Now pel mell; thus the hand of heauen chokes
The throate of murder. This for my fathers blood.
He stabs Piero.
Pan.
This for my sonne.
Alb.
This for them all.
And this, and this; sinke to the heart of hell.
They run all at Piero with their Rapiers.
Pan.
Murder for murder, blood for blood doth yell.
Andr.
Tis done, and now my sowle shal sleep in rest.
Sons that reuenge their fathers blood, are blest.
The curtaines being drawne, Exit Andrugio.
SCENA SEXTA.
Enter Galeatzo, two Senators, Luceo, Forobosco, Castilio, and Ladies.1. Sen.
Whose hand presents this gory spectacle?
Anto.
Mine.
Pan.
No: mine.
Alb.
No: mine.
I will not loose the glorie of the deede,
Were all the tortures of the deepest hell
Fixt to my limbs. I pearc't the monsters heart,
With an vndaunted hand.
Pan.
By yon bright spangled front of heauen twas I:
Twas I sluc't out his life bloode.
Alb.
Tush, to say truth, twas all.
2. Sen.
Blest be you all, and may your honours liue
Religiously helde sacred, euen for euer and euer.
Gal.
To Antonio.
Thou art another Hercules to vs,
In ridding huge pollution from our State.
1. Sen.
Antonio, beliefe is fortified,
With most inuincible approuemēts of much wrong,
By this Piero to thee. We haue found
Beadroles of mischiefe, plots of villany,
Laide twixt the Duke and Strotzo: which we found
Too firmely acted.
2. Sen.
Alas poore Orphant.
An.
Poore? standing tryumphant ouer Belzebub?
Hauing large interest for blood; & yet deem'd poor?
1. Sen.
What satisfaction outward pomp can yield,
Or cheefest fortunes of the Venice state,
Claime freely. You are well seasond props,
And will not warpe, or leane to either part.
Calamity gives man a steddy heart.
Ant.
We are amaz'd at your benignitie:
But other vowes constraine another course.
Pan.
We know the world, and did we know no more,
Wee would not liue to know: but since constraint
Of holy bands forceth vs keepe this lodge
Our soules appearance, we will liue inclos'd
In holy verge of some religious order,
Most constant votaries.
The curtaines are drawne, Piero departeth.
Ant.
First let's cleanse our hands,
Purge hearts of hatred, and intoumbe my loue:
Ouer whose hearse, Ile weepe away my braine
In true affections teares,
For her sake, here I vowe a virgine bed.
She liues in me, with her my loue is deade.
2. Sen.
We will attend her mournfull exequies,
Conduct you to your calme sequestred life,
And then
Maria.
Leaue vs, to meditate on misery;
To sad our thought with contemplation
Of past calamities. If any aske
Where liues the widdowe of the poisoned Lord?
Where lies the Orphant of a murdred father?
Where lies the father of a butchered son?
Where liues all woe? conduct him to vs three;
The downe-cast ruines of calamitie.
And.
Sound dolefull tunes, a solemne hymn aduance,
To close the last act of my vengeance:
And when the subiect of your passion's spent,
Sing Mellida is deade, all hearts will relent,
In sad condolement, at that heauie sound,
Neuer more woe in lesser plot was found.
And, ô, if euer time create a Muse,
Dares once engage his pen to write her death,
Presenting it in some black Tragedie.
May it proue gratious, may his stile be deckt
With freshest bloomes of purest elegance;
May it haue gentle presence, and the Sceans suckt vp
By calme attention of choyce audience:
And when the closing Epilogue appeares,
Instead of claps, may it obtaine but teares.
CANTANT.
Exeunt omnes.
FINIS.
Antonij vindictæ.
| Antonio's Reuenge | |