University of Virginia Library

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.

Ant.
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
Of durts corruption, till dread power cals
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,
That to th'immortall fame of virgine faith,
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.