 | The Insatiate Countesse |  |
Actus quarti
Scæna prima.
Enter the Duke of Amago, the Captaine, and the rest of the Watch, with the Senators.Duke.
Ivstice that makes Princes like the Gods, drawes vs vnto the Senate,
That with vnpartiall ballance wee may poyse
The crimes and innocence of all offenders,
Our presence can chase bribery from Lawes:
He best can iudge, that heares himselfe the cause.
1 Senat.
True mighty Duke, it best becomes our places,
To haue our light from you the sonne of Vertue,
Subiect Authoritie, for gaine, loue or feare
Oft quits the guilty, and condemnes the cleare.
Duke.
The Land and people's mine, the crimes being knowne,
I must redresse my subiects wrong's, mine owne.
Call for the two suspected for the murder
Of Mendosa, our endered kinsman. These voluntary murderers
That confesse the Murder of him that is yet aliue.
Wee'll sport vvith serious Iustice for a vvhile,
In shew wee'll frowne on them that make vs smile.
2 Sen.
Bring forth the Prisoners we may heare their answeres.
Enter (brought in with Officers) Claridiana, and Mizaldvs.
Duke.
Stand forth you Vipers, that haue suck'd bloud,
And lopt a branch sprung from a royall tree:
What can you answere to escape tortures?
Rog.
We haue confest the fact my Lord, to God and man,
Our ghostly father, and that worthy Captaine:
We beg not life but fauourable death.
Duke.
On what ground sprung your hate to him we lou'd?
Clarid.
Vpon that curse laid on Venecians ielousie.
Wee thought he being a Courtier, would haue made vs Magnificoes
of the right stampe, and haue plaid at Primero in the
presence, vvith gold of the Citie brought from our Indies.
Nay more, my Lord, vve feared that your kinsman for
a messe of Sonnets, would haue giuen the plot of vs and our
wiues, to some needy Poet, and for sport and profit brought vs
in some Venician Comedy vpon the Stage.
Duke.
Our Iustice dwels with mercy; be not desperate.
1 Sen.
His Highnesse faine vvould saue your liues if you would
see it.
Rog.
All the Law in Venice shall not saue mee, I vvill not be
saued.
Clar.
Feare not, I haue a tricke to bring vs to hanging in spite
of the Law.
Rog.
Why now I see thou louest me; thou hast confirm'd
Thy friendship for euer to me by these vvordes.
Why, I should neuer heare Lanthorne and candle call'd for,
But I should thinke it was for me and my Wife.
Ile hang for that, forget not thy tricke.
Vpon'em with thy tricke, I long for sentence.
2 Sen.
Will you appeale for mercy to the Duke?
Clar.
Kill not thy Iustice Duke, to saue our liues:
We haue deserued death.
Rog.
Make not vs presidents for after wrongs,
I will receiue punishment for my sinnes,
It shall be a meanes to lift me towards heauen.
Clar.
Let's haue our desert; we craue no fauour.
Duke.
Take them asunder, graue Iustice makes vs mirth,
That man is soulelesse that ne'er sinnes on earth.
Signior Mizaldus, relate the weapon you kill'd him with, and
the manner.
Rog.
My Lord, your lustfull kinsman, I can title him no better,
came sneaking to my house like a Promoter to spye flesh in
the Lent: now I hauing a Venecian spirit, watcht my time, and
with my Rapier runne him through, knowing all paines are but
trifles to the horne of a Citizen.
Duke.
Take him aside. Signior Claridiana, what weapon had
you for this bloudy act? vvhat dart vs'd Death?
Clar.
My Lord, I brain'd him with a leauer my neighbour
lent me, and he stood by and cryed strike home olde boy.
Duke.
With seuerall Instruments. Bring them face to face.
Rog.
With a Rapier Leige.
Clar.
Tis a lye,
I kill'd him with a leauer, and thou stood'st by.
Rog.
Dost think to saue me & hang thy selfe? no I scorne it; is this
the tricke thou said'st thou had'st: I kill'd him Duke.
Clar.
Thou hast alwayes beene crosse to me and wilt be to my
death. Haue I taken all this paines to bring thee to hanging, and
dost thou slip now?
Rog.
We shall neuer agree in a tale till we come to the gallowes,
then we shall iumpe.
Clar.
Ile shew you a crosse-point, if you crosse me thus,
When thou shalt not see it.
Rog.
Ile make a wry mouth at that, or it shall cost me a fall:
'Tis thy pride to be hang'd alone, because thou scorn'st my company:
but it shall be knowne I am as good a man as thy selfe, and
in these actions will keepe company with thy betters Iew.
Clar.
Monster.
Rog.
Dog-killer.
Clar.
Fencer.
They bustle.
Duke.
Part them, part'em.
Rog.
Hang vs, and quarter vs, we shall ne'er be parted til then,
Duke.
You doe confesse the murther done by both.
Clar.
But that I vvould not haue the slaue laugh at mee,
And count me a coward, I haue a very good mind to liue,
Aside.
But I am resolute: 'tis but a turne. I doe confesse.
Rog.
So doe I,
Pronounce our doome, wee are prepar'd to dye.
1 Sen.
We sentence you to hang till you be dead:
Since you were men eminent in place and vvorth,
We giue a Christian buriall to you both,
Clar.
Not in one graue together we beseech you, wee shall ne'er agree.
Rog.
He scornes my company, till the day of Iudgement,
Ile not hang vvith him.
Duke.
You hang together, that shall make you friends,
An euerlasting hatred death soone ends:
To prison with them till the day of death;
Kings words like Fate, must neuer change their breath.
Rog.
You malice-monger, Ile be hang'd afore thee,
And't be but to vexe thee.
Ile doe you as good a turne or the hangman, & shall fall out.
Exeunt ambo guarded.
Enter Mendosa in his night gowne and cap guarded, with the Captaine.
Duke.
Now to our kinsman, shame to royall blood,
Bring him before vs.
Theft in a Prince is sacrilege to honour
'Tis vertues scandall, death of Royalty,
I blush to see my shame; Nephew sit downe
Iustice that smiles on those on him must frowne,
Speake freely Captaine, where found you him wounded?
Capt.
Betweene the widowes house & these crosse neighbors,
Besides an Artificiall laddder made of ropes
Was fastned to her window which he confest
He brought to rob her of Iewels and coine.
My knowledge yeelds no further circumstance.
Duke.
Thou know'st too much, would I were past all knowledge,
I might forget my griefe springs from my shame,
Thou monster of my blood, answere in briefe
To these Assertions made against thy life.
Is thy soule guilty of so base a fact?
Mend.
I doe confesse I did intend to rob her.
In the attempt I fell and hurt my selfe
Lawes thunder is but death, I dread it not,
So my Lentulus honor be preseru'd
From black suspition of a lustfull night.
Duke.
Thy head's thy forfeit for thy harts offence,
Thy bloods prerogatiue may claime that fauour,
Thy person then to death doomb'd by iust lawes,
Thy death is infamous, but worse the cause.
Enter Isabella alone Gviaca following her.
Isabella.
O heau'ns that I was borne to be hates slaue,
The foode of Rumor, that deuour's my fame;
I am call'd Insatiat Countesse lusts paramowre
A glorious Diuell, and the noble whore,
Guiaca.
On whom would my Isabella be reueng'd?
Isab.
Vpon a Viper, that does get mine honour,
I will not name him till I be reueng'd,
See, her's the Libels are diuulg'd against me,
An euerlasting scandall to my name.
And thus the villen writes in my disgrace.
I will not name him till I be reueng'd,
See, her's the Libels are diuulg'd against me,
An euerlasting scandall to my name.
And thus the villen writes in my disgrace.
She reads.
Who loues Isabella the insatiate,
Needs Atlas back for to content her lust,
That wandring Strumpet, and chaste wedlockes hate,
That renders truth: deceipt for loyall trust,
That sacrilegious thiefe to Himens rights,
Making her lust her God, heau'n her delights.
Swell not proud heart, Ile quench thy griefe in blood,
Desire in woman cannot be withstood.
Who loues Isabella the insatiate,
Needs Atlas back for to content her lust,
That wandring Strumpet, and chaste wedlockes hate,
That renders truth: deceipt for loyall trust,
That sacrilegious thiefe to Himens rights,
Making her lust her God, heau'n her delights.
Swell not proud heart, Ile quench thy griefe in blood,
Desire in woman cannot be withstood.
Guiaca.
Ile be thy champion sweet gainst all the world,
Name but the villaine that defames thee thus.
Isab.
Dare thy hand execute, whom my tongue condemnes,
Then art thou truely valiant, mine for euer,
But if thou fain'st, hate must our true loue seuer.
Guiaca.
By my dead fathers soule, my mothers vertues,
And by my knight hood and gentilitie; Ile be reueng'd
On all the Authors of your Obloquie: Name him.
Isab.
Rogero.
Guiaca.
Ha.
Isab.
What does his name affright thee coward Lord?
Be mad Isabella, curse on thy reuenge,
This Lord was knighted for his fathers worth,
Not for his owne.
Farewell thou periur'd man, Ile leaue you all,
You all conspire to worke mine honors fall.
Guia.
Stay my Isabella, were he my fathers sonne,
Composed of me, he dies,
Delight still keepe with thee: goe in.
Isabella.
Thou art iust:
Reuenge to me is sweeter now then lust.
Anna.
What meane you Nobles, will you kill each other?
Ambo.
Hold.
Guido.
Thou shame to friendship, what intends thy hate?
Guiaca.
Loue Armes my hand, makes my soule valiant,
Isabellas wrongs now sits vpon my sword,
To fall more heauie to thy cowards head,
Then thunderbolts vpon Ioues rifted Oakes:
Deny thy scandall, or defend thy life.
Guido.
What? hath thy faith and and reason left thee both?
That thou art onely flesh without a soule:
Hast thou no feeling of thy selfe and me?
Blind rage that will not let thee see thy selfe.
Guiaca.
I come not to dispute but execute:
And thus comes death.
Another passe.
Guido.
And thus I breake thy dart, her's at thy whores face.
Guiaca.
'Tis mist: here's at thy heart, stay, let vs breath.
Guido.
Let reason gouerne rage, yet let vs leaue,
Although most wrong be mine, I can forgiue:
In this attempt, thy shame will euer liue.
Guiaca.
Thou hast wrong'd the Phenix of all women rarest,
She that's most wise, most louing, chaste and fairest.
Guid.
Thou dotest vpon a diuell, not a woman,
That ha's bewitcht thee with her Sorcerie,
And drown'd thy soule in leathy faculties,
Her vselesse lust has benumb'd thy knowledge,
Thy intelectuall powers, obliuion smothers,
That thou art nothing but forgetfulnesse.
Guiaca.
What's this to my Isabella, my sinnes mine owne,
Her faults were none, vntill thou madest 'em knowne.
Guido.
Leaue her, and leaue thy shame where first thou
found'st it;
Deuour'd in her gulfe-like appetite
And infamy shall write thy Epitaph,
A scandall to thy name in future times.
Guia.
Put vp your weapon, I dare here you further,
Insatiat lust is Sire still to murther.
Guido.
Beleeue it friend, if her heart bloud were vext,
Though you kill me, new pleasure makes you next:
She lou'd me deerer, then she loues you now,
Shee'll nere be faithfull, has twice broke her vow.
This curse pursues femall Adulterie,
They'l swimme through blood for sinnes varietie:
Their pleasure like a sea groundlesse and wide,
A womans lust was neuer satisfied.
Guia.
Feare whispers in my brest, I haue a soule
That blushes red, for tending bloudy facts,
Forgiue me friend, if I can be forgiuen,
Thy counsell is the path leades me to heauen.
Guia.
I doe embrace thy reconciled loue.
Guiaca.
That death or danger, now shall ne'er remoue,
Goe tell thy Insaciate Countesse Anna,
We haue escap't the snares of her false Loue,
Vowing for euer to abandon her.
Guid.
You haue heard our Resolution, pray be gone.
Anna.
My office euer rested at your pleasure,
I was the Indian, yet you had the treasure.
My faction often sweates, and oft takes cold,
Then gilde true diligence o'er with gold.
Guia.
Thy speech deseru's it there's gold,
giues her gold.
Be honest now, and not loues Noddy,
Turn'd vp and plaid on whil'st thou keep'st the stock,
Prethe formally let's ha thy absence.
Anna.
Lords farewell.
Exit Anna.
Guido.
Tis Whores and Panders, that makes earth like hyll.
Guiaca.
Now I am got out of lusts Laborinth,
I will to Venice, for a certaine time,
To recreate my much abused spirits,
And then reuisit Pani and my friend,
Ile bring you on your way but must returne,
Lust is like Aetna, and will euer burne.
Yet now desire is quench't flam'd once in height:
Till man knowes hell, he neuer has firme faith.
Exeunt Ambo.
Enter Isabella rauing, and Anna.
Isabella.
Our scritch-Owle messenger of my reuenges death
Thou do'st belye Guiaca 'tis not so.
Anna.
Vpon mine honestie they are vnited.
Isabella.
Thy honestie? thou vassaile to my pleasure take
that,
Dar'st thou controule me, when I say no?
Art not my footestoole, did not I create thee?
And made thee gentle, being borne a begger:
Thou hast beene my womans Pandar for a crowne,
And dost thou stand vpon thy honestie?
Anna.
I am, what you please Madame. Yet 'tis so.
Isab.
Slaue, I will slit thy tongue, lesse thou say no.
Anna.
No, no, no Madame.
Isabella.
I haue my humour, though they now be false,
Faint-hearted coward get thee from my sight,
When villaine? hast, and come not nere me.
Anna.
Madame: I run, her sight like death doth feare me.
Ex.
Isabella.
Perfidious cowards, staine of Nobilitie,
Venecians, and be reconcil'd with words:
O that I had Guiaca once more here,
Within this prison, made of flesh and bone,
I'de not trust Thunder with my fell reuenge,
But mine owne hands, should doe the dire exploit,
And fame should Chronicle a womans acts:
My rage respects the persons not the facts.
There place and worths hath power to defame me,
Meane hate is stinglesse, and does onely name me:
I not regard it, 'tis high bloud that swels,
Giue me reuenge, and damne me into hels,
A gallant Spaniard, I will heare him speake,
Griefe must be speechlesse, ere the heart can breake.
Sago.
Lieutenant let good Discipline be vs'd
In quartring of our Troops within the Citie,
Not seperated into many streetes,
That shewes weake loue, but not sound policie.
Diuision in small numbers makes all weake,
Forces vnited are the nerues of warre,
Mother and nurse of obseruation.
Whose rare ingenious spright, fils all the world
By looking on it selfe with piercing eyes,
Will looke through strangers imbecilities:
Therefore be carefull.
Lieft.
All shall be ordred fitting your command,
For these three gifts which makes a Souldiour rare,
Is loue and dutie with a valiant care.
Exiunt. Lieft. & Souldiors.
Sago.
What rarietie of women feeds my sight,
And leades my sences in a maze of wonder?
Sees her.
Bellona, thou wert my mistris till I saw that shape
But now my sword, Ile consecrate to her,
Leaue Mars and become Cupids Martialist,
Beauty can turne the rugged face of warre,
And make him smile vpon delightfull peace,
Courting her smoothly like a femallist,
I grow a slaue vnto my potent loue,
Whose power change hearts, make our fate remoue.
Isabella.
Reuenge not, Pleasure now ore-rules my blood,
Rage shall drown faint loue in a crimson flood,
And were he caught, I'de make him murders hand.
Sago.
Me thinkes 'twere ioy to die at her command,
Ile speake to heare her speech, whose powerfull breath,
Is able to infuse life into death.
Isabella.
He comes to speake: hee's mine, by loue he is mine.
Sago.
Lady, thinke bold infrusion curtesie,
Then 'tis your thoughts, not I, that doe offend.
Isabella.
Sir, your intrusion yet's but curtesie,
Vnlesse your future humor alter it.
Sago.
Why then Diuinest woman, know my soule
Is dedicated to thy shrine of beauty,
To pray for mercy, and repent the wrongs
Done against loue, and femall puritie.
Thou abstract drawne from natures empty store-house,
I am thy slaue, command my sword, my heart
The soule is tri'd best by the bodies smart.
Isabella.
You are a stranger to this land and me,
What madnesse ist for me to trust you then?
To cosen women is a trade 'mongst men,
Smooth promises, faint passions with a lye,
Deceiues our sex of fame and chastitie:
What danger durst you hazard for my loue?
Sago.
Perils that that neuer mortall durst approue.
Ile double all the workes of Hercules,
Expose my selfe in combat 'gainst an Hoste,
Meete danger in a place of certaine death,
Yet neuer shrinke, or giue way to my Fate;
Bare-brested meete the murderous Tartars dart,
Or any fatall Engine made for death:
Such power ha's loue and beauty from your eyes,
He that dies resolute, does neuer die:
'Tis feare giues death his strength, which I resisted,
Death is but emptie Aire, the Fates haue twisted.
Isab.
Dare you reuenge my quarrell, 'gainst a foe?
Sago.
Then aske me if I dare embrace you thus,
Or kisse your hand, or gaze on your bright eye,
Where Cupid dances, on those globes of loue,
Feare is my vassall, when I frowne he flyes,
A hundred times in life, a coward dies.
Isabella.
I not suspect your valor, but your will.
Sago.
To gaine your loue, my fathers bloud I'le spill.
Many haue sworne the like, yet broke their vow.
Sago.
My whole endeuour to your wish shall bow.
I am your plague to scourge your enemies.
Isabella.
Performe your promise, and enioy your pleasure,
Spend my loues Dowry, that is womens treasure:
But if thy resolution dread the triall,
Ile tell the world, a Spaniard was disloyall.
Sago.
Relate your griefe, I long to heare their names,
Whose bastard spirits, thy true worth defames:
I'le wash thy scandall off, when their hearts bleeds,
Valour makes difference betwixt words and deeds.
Tell thy fames poison, blood shall wash thee white,
Isab.
My spotlesse honor, is a slaue to spite:
These are the monsters Venice doth bring forth,
Whose emptie soules are bankerupt of true worth.
False Count Guido, treacherous Guiaca,
Countesse of Gazia, and of rich Massino.
Then if thou beest a Knight, help the opprest,
Through danger safetie comes, through trouble rest.
And so my loue.
Sago.
Ignoble villens, their best bloud shall proue,
Reuenge fals heauy, that is rais'd by loue.
Isab.
Thinke what reproch is to a womans name,
Honor'd by birth, by marriage, and by beautie:
Be God on earth, and reuenge innocence,
O worthy Spaniard, on my knees I begge,
Forget the persons, thinke on their offence.
Sago.
By the white soule of honour, by heau'ns Ioue:
They die if their death can attaine your loue.
Isab.
Thus will I clip thy waste, embrace thee thus:
Thus dally with thy haire, and kisse thee thus:
Our Pleasures Pothean-like in sundry shapes,
Shall with varietie stirre daliance.
Sago.
I am immortall, O diuinest creature:
Thou do'st excell the Gods, in wit and feature.
False Counts you die, reuenge now shakes his rods:
Isab.
Come Mars of louers, Vulcan is not here,
Make vengeance like my bed, quite voide offeare.
Sago.
My sences are intranst, and in this slumber,
I taste heau'ns ioyes, but cannot count the number.
Ex. Ambo.
Enter Lady Lentvlvs, Abigall and Thais.
Abigal.
Well Madame: you see the destinie that followes
mariage,
Thais.
If my husband had beene worth the begging some
Courtier would haue had him: he might be beg'd well inough,
for he knowes not his owne wife from another.
Lady Lent.
O you'r a couple of trusty wenches, to deceiue
your husbands thus.
Abig.
If wee had not deceiu'd them thus, we had been Trust
wenches.
Thais.
Our husbands will be hang'd, because they thinke
themselu's Cuckolds.
Abig.
If all true Cuckolds were of that minde, the hangman
would be the richest occupation, and more wealthie widdowes,
then there be yonger brothers to marry them.
Thais.
The Marchant venturers would be a very small companie.
Abag.
'Tis twelue to one of that, how euer the rest scape,
I shall feare a massacre.
Thais.
If my husband hereafter for his wealth chance to
be dub'd:
Abag.
Faith, and it sounds well.
Lady.
Come madcaps leaue iesting, and let's deliuer them
out of their earthly purgation; you are the spirits that torment
them: but my loue and Lord, kinde Mendosa, will loose his
life, to preserue mine honor, not for hate to others.
Abig.
By my troth, if I had beene his iudge, I should haue
hang'd him for hauing no more wit, I speake as I thinke, for I
would not be hang'd for ne'er a man vnder the heau'ns.
Faith, I thinke I should for my Husband. I doe not
hold the opinion of the Philosopher, that writes we loue them
best, that we inioy first: for I protest I loue my husband better
then any that did know me before.
Abig.
So doe I, yet life and pleasure are two sweet things to
a woman.
Lady.
He that's willing to die to saue mine honor, I'le die to
saue his.
Abig.
Tut: beleeue it who that list, wee loue a liuely man I
grant you:
This is a rule I still will keepe in brest,
Loue well thy husband wench, but thy selfe best.
Thais.
I haue followed your counsell hetherto, and meane
to doe still.
Lady.
Come: we neglect our businesse, 'tis no iesting,
To morrow they are executed leasse we reprieue them,
Wee be their destinies to cast their fate.
Let's all goe.
Abig.
I feare not to come late.
Exeunt.
Enter Don Sago Solvs with a case of Pistols.
Sago.
Day was my night, and night must be my day:
The sunne shin'd on my pleasure, with my lone,
And darknesse must lend aide to my reuenge,
The stage of heau'n, is hung with solemne black,
A time best fitting, to Act Tragedies,
The nights great Queene, that maiden gouernesse
Musters black clouds, to hide her from the world,
Afraide to looke on my bold enterprise.
Curs'd creatures messengers of death, possesse the world,
Night-Rauens, scritch-owles, and vote-killing Mandrakes,
The ghosts of misers, that imprison'd gold,
Within the harmelesse bowels of the earth,
Are nights companions: bawdes to lust and murder,
Be all propitious to my Act of iustice:
Vpon the scandalizers of her fame,
Deem'd Isabella, Cupids Treasurer.
Whose soule containes the richest gifts of loue:
Her beautie from my heart, feare doth expell;
They rellish pleasure best, that dread not hell.
Who's there?
Enter Count Rogero.
Rogero.
A friend to thee, if thy intents be iust & honorable.
Sago.
Count Rogero, speake, I am the watch.
Rogero.
My name is Rogero: do'st thou know me?
Sago.
Yes slanderous villen, nurse of Obloquie,
Whose poison'd breath, ha's speckl'd cleare fac't vertue,
And made a Leper of Isabella's fame,
That is as spotlesse, as the eye of heau'n.
Thy vitall threds a cutting, start not slaue,
Hee's sure of sudden death, heau'n cannot saue.
Count Rog.
Art not Guiaca turn'd Apostata, ha's pleasure once
againe
Sago.
O that I were, then would I stab my selfe,
For he is mark't for death, as well as thee:
I am Don Sago thy mortall enemie,
Whose hand loue makes thy executioner.
Rogero.
I know thee valiant Spaniard, and to thee
Murders more hatefull, then is sacrilege
Thy actions euer haue been honourable.
Sago.
And this the crowne of all my Actions,
To purge the earth, of such a man turn'd monster.
Rogero.
I neuer wrong'd thee Spaniard, did I? speake
I'le make thee satisfaction like a souldiour,
Tell him all the Plot.
A true Italian, and a Gentleman:
Thy rage is treacherie without a cause.
Sago.
My rage is iust, and thy heart bloud shall know,
He that wrongs beautie, must be honors foe:
Isabels quarrell, armes the Spaniards spirit.
Rogero.
Murder should keepe with basenesse, not with merit:
I'le answere thee to morrow by my soule,
Sago.
Hee's warres best scholler, can with safety kill.
Take this to night, now meete with me to morrow,
Shootes.
I come Isabella, halfe thy hate is dead,
Valour makes murder light, which feare makes dead.
Enter Capt. with a band of Soldiors.
Capt.
The pistoll was shot here seize him,
Bring lights, what Don Sago Collonell of the horse?
Ring the Alarum bell, raise the whole Citie,
His Troops are in the towne, I feare treacherie:
Whose this lies murdred, speake bloud-thirstie Spaniard.
Sago.
I haue not spoil'd his face, you may know his visnomy.
Capt.
Tis Count Rogero, goe conuay him hence.
Thy life proud Spaniard, answeres this offence,
A strong guard for the prisoner, lesse the cities powers
Rise to rescue him.
Begirt him with souldiours.
Sago.
What needs this strife?
Know slaues, I prize reuenge aboue my life.
Fames register to future times shall tell
That by Don Sago, Count Rogero fell.
Exeunt omnes.
Finis Acti Quarti.
| The Insatiate Countesse | |