University of Virginia Library

SCEN. I.

Enter Piero, vnbrac't, his armes bare, smeer'd in blood, a poniard in one hand bloodie, and a torch in the other, Strotzo following him with a corde.
Pie.
Ho, Gasper Strotzo, binde Feliches trunke
Vnto the panting side of Mellida.
Exit Str.
Tis yet dead night, yet al the earth is cloucht
In the dull leaden hand of snoring sleepe:
No breath disturbs the quiet of the ayre.
No spirit moues vpon the breast of earth,
Saue howling dogs, nightcrowes, & screeching owls,
Saue meager ghosts, Piero, and black thoughts.
One, two. Lord, in two houres what a toplesse mount
Of vnpeer'd mischiefe, haue these hands cast vp!
Enter Strotzo.
I can scarce coope triumphing vengeance vp,
From bursting forth in bragart passion.

Str.
My Lord, tis firmely saide that

Pie.
Andrugio sleepes in peace: this braine hath choakt
The organ of his breast. Feliche hangs,
But as a baite vpon the line of death,
To tice on mischiefe. I am great in blood,
Vnequald in reuenge. You horrid scouts,
That centinell swart night, giue lowde applause
From your large palms. First know, my hart was rais'd
Vnto Andrugios life, vpon this ground:

Str.
Duke, tis reported

Pie.
We both were riuals in our May of blood,
Vnto Maria, faire Ferraras heire.
He wan the Ladie, to my honours death:
And from her sweetes, cropt this Antonio:
For which, I burnt in inward sweltring hate,
And festred rankling malice in my breast,
Till I might belke reuenge vpon his eyes:
And now (ô blessed now) tis done. Hell, night,
Giue lowde applause to my hypocrisie.
When his bright valour euen dazled sense,
In offring his owne heade, publick reproach
Had blurd my name. Speake Strotzo, had it not?
If then I had

Str.
It had, so please

Pier.
What had so please? Vnseasoned Sycophant,
Piero Sforza is no nummed Lord,
Senselesse of all true touch; stroake not the head
Of infant speach, till it be fully borne.
Goe to.

Strot.
How now? Fut, Ile not smother your speach.

Pie.
Nay, right thine eyes: twas but a little splene:
(Huge plunge!
Sinn's growne a slaue, and must obserue slight euils.
Huge villaines are inforc't to clawe all diuels.)
Pish, sweete thy thoughts, and giue me

Str.
Stroake not the heade of infant speach? Goe to?

Pie.
Nay, calme this storme. I euer held thy breast
More secret, and more firme in league of blood,
Then to be struck in heate with each slight puffe.
Giue me thy eares; Huge infamie
Presse downe my honour; if euen then, when
His fresh act of prowesse bloom'd out full,
I had tane vengeance on his hated head

Str.
Why it had

Pier.
Could I auoyde to giue a seeming graunt
Vnto fruition of Antonios loue?

Str.
No.

Pie.
And didst thou euer see, a Iudas kisse,
With a more couert touch of fleering hate?

Stro.
No.

Pie.
And hauing clipt them with pretence of loue,
Haue I not crusht them with a cruell wring?

Strot.
Yes.

Piero.
Say, faith, didst thou ere heare, or reade, or see
Such happie vengeance, vnsuspected death?
That I should drop strong poyson in the boawle,
Which I my selfe carous't vnto his health,
And future fortune of our vnitie,
That it should worke even in the husht of night,
And strangle him on sodaine; that faire showe
Of death, for the excessiue ioy of his fate,
Might choake the murder? Ha Strotzo, is't not rare?
Nay, but waigh it. Then Feliche stabd
(Whose sinking thought frighted my conscious hart)
And laid by Mellida, to stop the match,
And hale on mischiefe. This all in one night?
Is't to be equall'd thinkst thou? O, I could eate
Thy fumbling throat, for thy lagd censure. Fut,
Is't not rare?

Str.
Yes.

Pie.
No? yes? nothing but no, and yes, dull lumpe?
Canst thou not hony me with fluent speach,
And euen adore my toplesse villany?
Will I not blast my owne blood for reuenge?
Must not thou straight be periur'd for reuenge?
And yet no creature dreame tis my reuenge.
Will I not turne a glorious bridall morne
Vnto a Stygian night? Yet naught but no, and yes?

Str.
I would haue told you, if the incubus,
That rides your bosome, would haue patience:
It is reported, that in priuate state,
Maria, Genoas Dutchesse, makes to Court,
Longing to see him, whom she nere shall see,
Her Lord Andrugio. Be like she hath receiu'd
The newes of reconciliation:
Reconciliation with a death?
Poore Ladie shall but finde poore comfort in't.

Pie.
O, let me swoone for ioy. By heauen, I thinke
I ha said my prayers, within this month at least;
I am so boundlesse happie. Doth she come?
By this warme reeking goare, Ile marrie her.
Looke I not now like an inamorate?
Poyson the father, butcher the son, & marry the mother; ha?
Strotzo, to bed: snort in securest sleepe:
For see, the dapple gray coursers of the morne
Beat vp the light with their bright siluer hooues,
And chase it through the skye. To bed, to bed.
This morne my vengeance shall be amply fed.

Exit.