 | The Revengers Tragaedie [by Thomas Middleton] |  |
ACT. I.
SCÆ. I.
Enter Vendici, the Duke, Dutchesse, Lusurioso her sonne, Spurio the bastard, with a traine, passe ouer the Stage with Torch-light.Uindi.
Dvke: royall letcher; goe, gray hayrde adultery,
And thou his sonne, as impious steept as hee:
And thou his bastard true-begott in euill:
And thou his Dutchesse that will doe with Diuill,
Foure exlent Characters—O that marrow-lesse age,
Would stuffe the hollow Bones with dambd desires,
And stead of heate kindle infernall fires,
Within the spend-thrift veynes of a drye Duke,
A parcht and iuicelesse luxur. O God! one
That has scarce bloud inough to liue vpon.
And hee to ryot it like a sonne and heyre?
O the thought of that
Turnes my abused heart-strings into fret.
Thou sallow picture of my poysoned loue,
My studies ornament, thou shell of Death,
Once the bright face of my betrothed Lady,
When life and beauty naturally fild out
These ragged imperfections;
When two-heauen-pointed Diamonds were set
In those vnsightly Rings;—then 'twas a face
So farre beyond the artificiall shine
Of any womans bought complexion
That the vprightest man, (if such there be,
That sinne but seauen times a day) broke custome
And made vp eight with looking after her,
Oh she was able to ha made a Vsurers sonne
Melt all his patrimony in a kisse,
And what his father fiftie yeares told
To haue consumde, and yet his sute beene cold:
But oh accursed Pallace!
Thee when thou wert appareld in thy flesh,
The old Duke poyson'd,
Because thy purer part would not consent
Do show like young men angry, eager violent,
Out-bid like their limited performances
O ware an old-man hot, and vicious
“Age as in gold, in lust is couetous.
Vengence thou murders Quit-rent, and whereby
Thou shoust thy selfe Tennant to Tragedy,
Oh keepe thy day, houre, minute, I beseech,
For those thou hast determind: hum: who ere knew
Murder vnpayd, faith giue Reuenge her due
Sha's kept touch hetherto—be merry, merry,
Aduance thee, O thou terror to fat folkes
To haue their costly three-pilde flesh worne of
As bare as this—for banquets: ease and laughter,
Can make great men, as greatnesse goes by clay,
But wise men little are more great then they?
Enter her brother Hippolito.
Hip.
Still sighing ore deaths vizard.
Vind.
Brother welcome,
What comfort bringst thou? how go things at Court?
Hip.
In silke and siluer brother: neuer brauer.
Vind.
Puh,
Thou playst vpon my meaning, pree-thee say
Has that bald Madam, Opportunity?
Yet thought vpon's, speake are we happy yet?
Thy wrongs and mine are for one scabberd fit.
Hip.
It may proue happinesse?
Vind.
What ist may proue?
Giue me to tast.
Hip.
Giue me your hearing then,
You know my place at Court.
Vind.
I; the Dukes Chamber
But tis a maruaile thourt not turnd out yet!
Hip.
Faith I haue beene shooud at, but twas still my hap
To hold by'th Duchesse skirt, you gesse at that,
Whome such a Coate keepes vp can nere fall flat,
But to the purpose.
Last euening predecessor vnto this,
Whose pleasure I attended: he began,
By policy to open and vnhuske me
About the time and common rumour:
But I had so much wit to keepe my thoughts
Vp in their built houses, yet afforded him
An idle satifaction without danger,
But the whole ayme, and scope of his intent
Ended in this, coniuring me in priuate,
To seeke some strange digested fellow forth:
Of ill-contented nature, either disgracst
In former times, or by new groomes displacst,
Since his Step-mothers nuptialls, such a bloud
A man that were for euill onely good;
To giue you the true word some base coynd Pander?
Vind.
I reach you, for I know his heate is such,
Were there as many Concubines as Ladies
He would not be contaynd, he must flie out:
I wonder how ill featurde, vilde proportiond
That one should be: if she were made for woman,
Whom at the Insurrection of his lust
He would refuse for once, heart, I thinke none,
Next to a skull, tho more vnsound then one
Each face he meetes he strongly doates vpon.
Hip.
Brother y'aue truly spoke him?
He knowes not you, but Ile sweare you know him.
Vind.
And therefore ile put on that knaue for once,
And be a right man then, a man a'th Time,
For to be honest is not to be ith world,
Brother ile be that strange composed fellow.
Hip.
And ile prefer you brother.
Uind.
Go too then,
The smallst aduantage fattens wronged men
It may point out, occasion, if I meete her,
Ile hold her by the fore-top fast ynough;
Or like the French Moale heaue vp hayre and all,
I haue a habit that wil fit it quaintly,
Here comes our Mother.
Hip.
And sister.
We must quoyne.
Women are apt you know to take false money,
But I dare stake my soule for these two creatures
Onely excuse excepted that they'le swallow,
Because their sexe is easie in beleefe.
Moth.
What newes from Cour sonne Carlo?
Hip.
Faith Mother,
Tis whisperd there the Duchesse yongest sonne
Has playd a Rape on Lord Antonios wife.
Moth.
On that relligious Lady!
Cast.
Royall bloud: monster he deserues to die,
If Italy had no more hopes but he.
Vin.
Sister y'aue sentenc'd most direct, and true,
The Lawes a woman, and would she were you:
Mother I must take leaue of you.
Moth.
Leaue for what?
Vin.
I Intend speedy trauaile.
Hip.
That he do's Madam.
Mo.
Speedy indeed!
Vind.
For since my worthy fathers funerall,
My life's vnnaturally to me, e'en compeld
As if I liu'd now when I should be dead.
Mot.
Indeed he was a worthy Gentleman
Had his estate beene fellow to his mind.
Vind.
The Duke did much deiect him.
Moth.
Much?
Uind.
To much.
And through disgrace oft smotherd in his spirit,
When it would mount, surely I thinke hee dyed
Of discontent: the Noblemans consumption.
Moth.
Most sure he did!
Vind.
Did he? lack,—you know all
You were his mid-night secretary.
Moth.
No.
He was to wise to trust me with his thoughts.
Vind.
Yfaith then father thou wast wise indeed,
“Wiues are but made to go to bed and feede.
Come mother, sister youle bring me onward brother?
Hip.
I will.
Ile quickly turne into another.
Exeunt.
Enter the old Duke, Lussurioso, his sonne, the Duchesse: the Bastard, the Duchesse two sonnes Ambitioso, and Superuacuo, the third her yongest brought out with Officers for the Rape two Iudges.
Duke.
Duchesse it is your yongest sonne, we're sory,
His violent Act has e'en drawne bloud of honor
And staind our honors,
Throwne inck vpon the for-head of our state
Which enuious spirits will dip their pens into
After our death; and blot vs in our Toombes.
For that which would seeme treason in our liues
Is laughter when we're dead, who dares now whisper
That dares not then speake out, and e'en proclaime,
With lowd words and broad pens our closest shame.
Iud.
Your grace hath spoke like to your siluer yeares
Full of confirmed grauity;—for what is it to haue,
A flattering false insculption on a Toombe:
And in mens hearts reproch, the boweld Corps,
May be seard in, but with free tongue I speake,
“The faults of great men through their searce clothes breake,
Duk.
They do, we're sory for't, it is our fate,
To liue in feare and die to liue in hate,
I leaue him to your sentance dome him Lords
The fact is great; whilst I sit by and sigh.
Duch.
My gratious Lord I pray be mercifull,
Although his trespasse far exceed his yeares,
Thinke him to be your owne as I am yours,
Call him not sonne in law: the law I feare
Wil fal too soone vpon his name and him:
Temper his fault with pitty?
Luss.
Good my Lord.
Then twill not tast so bitter and vnpleasant
Vpon the Iudges pallat, for offences
Gilt ore with mercy, show like fayrest women,
Good onely for therr beauties, which washt of: no sin is ouglier
Ambitis.
I beseech your grace,
Be soft and mild, let not Relentlesse Law,
Spu.
He yeelds small comfort yet, hope he shall die,
And if a bastards wish might stand in force,
Would all the court were turnde into a coarse,
Duc,
No pitty yet? must I rise fruitlesse then,
A wonder in a woman; are my knees,
Of such lowe—mettall—that without Respect—
1. Iudg.
Let the offender stand forth,
Tis the Dukes pleasure that Impartiall Doome,
Shall take first hold of his vncleane attempt,
A Rape! why tis the very core of lust,
Double Adultery.
Iuni.
So Sir.
2. Iud.
And which was worse,
Committed on the Lord Antonioes wife,
That Generall honest Lady, confesse my Lord!
What mou'd you toot?
Iuni.
why flesh and blood my Lord.
What should moue men vnto a woman else,
Luss.
O do not iest thy doome, trust not an axe
Or sword too far; the Law is a wise serpent
And quickly can beguile thee of thy life,
Tho marriage onely has mad thee my brother,
I loue thee so far, play not with thy Death,
Iuni.
I thanke you troth, good admonitions faith,
If ide the grace now to make vse of them,
1. Iud.
That Ladyes name has spred such a faire wing
Ouer all Italy; that if our Tongs,
Were sparing toward the Fact, Iudgment it selfe,
Would be condemned and suffer in mens thoughts,
Iuni.
Well then tis done, and it would please me well
Were it to doe agen: sure shees a Goddesse,
For ide no power to see her, and to liue,
It falls out true in this for I must die,
Her beauty was ordaynd to be my scaffold,
And yet my thinks I might be easier ceast,
My fault being sport, let me but die in iest,
1. Iud.
This be the sentence,
O keept vpon your Tongue, let it not slip,
Death too soone steales out of a Lawyers lip,
Be not so cruell-wise?
1. Iudg.
Your Grace must pardon vs,
'Tis but the Iustice of the Lawe.
Dut.
The Lawe,
Is growne more subtill then a woman should be.
Spu.
Now, now he dyes, rid 'em away.
Dut.
O what it is to haue an old-coole Duke,
To bee as slack in tongue, as in performance.
1. Iudg.
Confirmde, this be the doome irreuocable.
Dut.
Oh!
1. Iudg.
To morrow early.
Dut.
Pray be a bed my Lord.
1. Iudg.
Your Grace much wrongs your selfe.
Ambi.
No 'tis that tongue,
Your too much right, dos do vs too much wrong.
1. Iudg.
Let that offender—
Dut.
Liue and be in health.
1. Iud.
Be on a Scaffold—
Duk.
Hold, hold, my Lord.
Spu.
Pax ont,
What makes my Dad speake now?
Duke.
We will defer the iudgement till next sitting,
In the meane time let him be kept close prisoner:
Guard beare him hence.
Ambi.
Brother, this makes for thee,
Feare not, weele haue a trick to set thee free.
Iuni.
Brother, I will expect it from you both; and in that hope
I rest.
Super.
Farewell, be merry.
Exit with a garde.
Spu.
Delayd, deferd nay then if iudgement haue cold bloud,
Flattery and bribes will kill it.
Duke.
About it then my Lords with your best powers,
More serious businesse calls vpon our houres.
Exe. manet Du.
Dut.
Wast euer knowne step-Dutchesse was so milde,
And calme as I? some now would plot his death,
With easie Doctors, those loose liuing men,
And make his witherd Grace fall to his Graue,
And keepe Church better?
Some second wife would do this, and dispatch
Indeed 'tis true an old mans twice a childe,
Mine cannot speake, one of his single words,
Would quite haue freed my yongest deerest sonne
From death or durance, and haue made him walke
With a bold foote vpon the thornie law,
Whose Prickles should bow vnder him, but 'tis not,
And therefore wedlock faith shall be forgot,
Ile kill him in his fore-head, hate there feede,
That wound is deepest tho it neuer bleed:
And here comes hee whom my heart points vnto,
His bastard sonne, but my loues true-begot,
Many a wealthy letter haue I sent him,
Sweld vp with Iewels, and the timorous man
Is yet but coldly kinde,
That Iewel's mine that quiuers in his eare,
Mocking his Maisters chilnesse and vaine feare,
Ha's spide me now.
Spu.
Madame? your Grace so priuate.
My duety on your hand.
Dut.
Vpon my hand sir, troth I thinke youde feare,
To kisse my hand too if my lip stood there,
Spi.
Witnesse I would not Madam.
Dut.
Tis a wonder,
For ceremonie ha's made many fooles,
It is as easie way vnto a Dutchesse,
As to a Hatted-dame, (if her loue answer)
But that by timorous honors, pale respects,
Idle degrees of feare, men make their wayes
Hard of themselues—what haue you thought of me?
Spi.
Madam I euer thinke of you, in duty,
Regard and—
Dut.
Puh, vpon my loue I meane.
Spu.
I would 'twere loue, but 'tus a fowler name
Then lust; you are my fathers wife, your Grace may gesse now,
What I could call it.
Dut.
Why th'art his sonne but falsly,
Tis a hard question whether he begot thee.
Ifaith 'tis true too; Ime an vncertaine man,
Of more vncertaine woman; may be his groome 'ath stable begot
me, you know I know not, hee could ride a horse well, a
shrowd suspition marry—hee was wondrous tall, hee had his
length yfaith, for peeping ouer halfe shut holy-day windowes,
He made a goodly show vnder a Pent-house,
And when he rid, his Hatt would check the signes, and clatter
Barbers Basons.
Dut.
Nay set you a horse back once,
Youle nere light off.
Spu.
Indeed I am a beggar.
Dut.
That's more the signe thou'art Great—but to our loue.
Let it stand firme both in thought and minde,
That the Duke was thy Father, as no doubt then
Hee bid faire fort, thy iniurie is the more,
For had hee cut thee a right Diamond,
Thou hadst beene next set in the Duke-doomes Ring,
When his worne selfe like Ages easie slaue,
Had dropt out of the Collet into th' Graue,
What wrong can equall this? canst thou be tame
And thinke vppon't.
Spu.
No mad and thinke vpon't.
Dut.
Who would not be reuengd of such a father,
E'en in the worst way? I would thanke that sinne,
That could most iniury him, and bee in league with it,
Oh what a griefe 'tis, that a man should liue
But once ith world, and then to liue a Bastard,
The curse a'the wombe, the theefe of Nature,
Begot against the seauenth commandement,
Halfe dambd in the conception, by the iustice
Of that vnbribed euerlasting law.
Spu.
Oh Ide a hot-backt Diuill to my father.
Dut.
Would not this mad e'en patience, make bloud rough?
Who but an Eunuch would not sinne? his bed
By one false minute disinherited.
Spi.
I, there's the vengeance that my birth was wrapt in,
Ile be reuengd for all, now hate begin,
Dut.
Cold still: in vaine then must a Dutchesse woo?
Spu.
Madam I blush to say what I will doo.
Dut.
Thence flew sweet comfort, earnest and farewell.
Spu.
Oh one incestuous kisse picks open hell.
Dut.
Faith now old Duke; my vengeance shall reach high,
Ile arme thy brow with womans Herauldrie.
Exit.
Spu.
Duke, thou didst do me wrong, and by thy Act
Adultery is my nature;
Faith if the truth were knowne, I was begot
After some gluttonous dinner, some stirring dish
Was my first father; when deepe healths went round,
And Ladies cheekes were painted red with Wine,
Their tongues as short and nimble as their heeles
Vttering words sweet and thick; and when they rise,
Were merrily disposd to fall agen,
In such a whispring and with-drawing houre,
When base-male-Bawds kept Centinell at staire-head
Was I stolne softly; oh—damnation met
The sinne of feasts, drunken adultery.
I feele it swell me; my reuenge is iust,
I was begot in impudent Wine and Lust:
Step-mother I consent to thy desires,
I loue thy mischiefe well, but I hate thee,
And those three Cubs thy sonnes, wishing confusion
Death and disgrace may be their Epitaphs,
As for my brother the Dukes onely sonne,
Whose birth is more beholding to report
Then mine, and yet perhaps as falsely sowne.
(Women must not be trusted with their owne)
Ile loose my dayes vpon him hate all I,
Duke on thy browe Ile drawe my Bastardie.
For indeed a bastard by nature should make Cuckolds,
Because he is the sonne of a Cuckold-maker.
Exit.
Enter Vindici and Hippolito, Vindici in disguise to attend L. Lussurioso the Dukes sonne.
Vind.
What brother? am I farre inough from my selfe?
Hip.
As if a nother man had beene sent whole
Vind.
It wil confirme me bould: the child a th Court,
Let blushes dwell i'th Country impudence!
Thou Goddesse of the pallace, Mistrs of Mistesses
To whom the costly perfumd-people pray,
Strike thou my fore-head into dauntlesse Marble;
Mine eyes to steady Saphires: turne my visage,
And if I must needes glow, let me blush inward
That this immodest season may not spy,
That scholler in my cheekes, foole-bashfullnes.
That Maide in the old time, whose flush of Grace
Would neuer suffer her to get good cloaths;
Our maides are wiser; and are lesse ashamd,
Saue Grace the bawde I seldome heare Grace nam'd!
Hip.
Nay brother you reach out a'th Verge now,—Sfoote
the Dukes sonne, settle your lookes.
Uind.
Pray let me not be doubted.
Hip.
My Lord—
Luss.
Hipolito?—be absent leaue vs.
Hip.
My Lord after long search, wary inquiryes
And politick siftings, I made choise of yon fellow,
Whom I gesse rare for many deepe imployments;
This our age swims within him: and if Time
Had so much hayre, I should take him for Time,
He is so neere kinne to this present minute?
Luss.
Tis ynough.
We thanke thee: yet words are but great-mens blanckes
Gold tho it be dum do's vtter the best thankes.
Hip.
Your plenteous honor—an exlent fellow my Lord.
Luss.
So, giue vs leaue—welcome, bee not far off, we must bee
better acquainted, push, be bould with vs, thy hand:
Vind.
With all my heart yfaith how dost sweete Musk-cat
When shall we lie togither?
Luss.
Wondrous knaue!
Gather him into bouldnesse, Sfoote the slaue's
Already as familiar as an Ague,
And shakes me at his pleasure, friend I can
Forget my selfe in priuate, but else where,
I pray do you remember me.
Oh very well sir—I conster my selfe sawcy!
Luss.
What hast beene,
Of what profession.
Vind.
A bone-setter!
Luss.
A bone-setter!
Uind.
A bawde my Lord,
One that setts bones togither.
Luss.
Notable bluntnesse?
Fit, fit for me, e'en traynd vp to my hand
Thou hast beene Scriuener to much knauery then.
Vind.
Foole, to abundance sir; I haue beene witnesse
To the surrenders of a thousand virgins,
And not so little,
I haue seene Patrimonyes washt a peices
Fruit-feilds turnd into bastards,
And in a world of Acres,
Not so much dust due to the heire t'was left too
As would well grauell a petition
Luss.
Fine villaine? troth I like him wonderously
Hees e'en shapt for my purpose, then thou knowst
Ith world strange lust.
Vind.
O Dutch lust! fulsome lust!
Druncken procrearion, which begets, so many drunckards;
Some father dreads not (gonne to bedde in wine) to slide from
the mother,
Some Vncles are adulterous with their Neeces,
Brothers with brothers wiues, O howre of Incest!
Any kin now next to the Rim ath sister
Is mans meate in these dayes, and in the morning
When they are vp and drest, and their maske on,
Who can perceiue this? saue that eternall eye
That see's through flesh and all, well:—If any thing be dambd?
It will be twelue a clock at night; that twelue
Will neuer scape;
It is the Iudas of the howers; wherein,
Honest saluation is betrayde to sin,
Luss.
Introth it is too? but let this talke glide
It is our bloud to erre, tho hell gapte lowde
Now sir? wert thou as secret as thou'rt subtil,
And deepely fadomd into all estates
I would embrace thee for a neere imployment,
And thou shouldst swell in money, and be able
To make lame beggers crouch to thee.
Vind.
My Lord?
Secret? I nere had that disease ath mother
I praise my father: why are men made closse?
But to keepe thoughts in best, I grant you this
Tell but some woman a secret ouer night,
Your doctor may finde it in the vrinall ith morning,
But my Lord.
Luss.
So, thou'rt confirmd in mee
And thus I enter thee.
Vind.
This Indian diuill,
Will quickly enter any man: but a Vsurer,
He preuents that, by entring the diuill first.
Luss.
Attend me, I am past my depht in lust
And I must swim or drowne, all my desires
Are leueld at a Virgin not far from Court,
To whom I haue conuayde by Messenger
Many waxt Lines, full of my neatest spirit,
And iewells that were able to lauish her
Without the helpe of man; all which and more
Shee foolish chast sent back, the messengers,
Receiuing frownes for answeres.
Vind.
Possible!
Tis a rare Phænix who ere she bee,
If your desires be such, she so repugnant,
In troth my Lord ide be reuengde and marry her.
Luss.
Push; the doury of her bloud & of her fortunes,
Are both too meane,—good ynough to be bad withal
Ime one of that number can defend
Marriage is good: yet rather keepe a friend,
Giue me my bed by stealth—theres true delight
What breeds a loathing in't, but night by night.
Vind.
A very fine relligion?
Therefore thus,
Ile trust thee in the businesse of my heart
Because I see thee wel experienc'st
In this Luxurious day wherein we breath,
Go thou, and with a smooth enchaunting tongue
Bewitch her eares, and Couzen her of all Grace
Enter vpon the portion of her soule,
Her honor, which she calls her chastity
And bring it into expence, for honesty
Is like a stock of money layd to sleepe,
Which nere so little broke, do's neuer keep:
Vind.
You haue gint the Tang yfaith my Lord
Make knowne the Lady to me, and my braine,
Shall swell with strange Inuention: I will moue it
Till I expire with speaking, and drop downe
Without a word to saue me;—but ile worke—
Luss.
We thanke thee, and will raise thee:—receiue her name,
it is the only daughter, to Madame Gratiana the late widdow.
Vind.
Oh, my sister, my sister?—
Luss.
Why dost walke aside?
Vind.
My Lord, I was thinking how I might begin
As thus, oh Ladie—or twenty hundred deuices,
Her very bodkin will put a man in.
Luss.
I, or the wagging of her haire.
Vind.
No, that shall put you in my Lord.
Luss.
Shal't? why content, dost know the daughter then?
Vind.
O exlent well by sight.
Luss.
That was her brother
That did prefer thee to vs.
Vind.
My Lord I thinke so,
I knew I had seene him some where—
Luss.
And therefore pree-thee let thy heart to him,
Be as a Virgin, closse.
Uind.
Oh me good Lord.
Luss.
We may laugh at that simple age within him;
Vind.
Ha, ha, ha.
Luss.
Himselfe being made the subtill instrument,
To winde vp a good fellow.
Vind.
That's I my Lord.
Luss.
That's thou.
Vind.
A pure nouice?
Luss.
T'was finely manag'd.
Vind.
Gallantly carried;
A prety-perfumde villaine.
Luss.
I'ue bethought me
If she prooue chast still and immoueable,
Venture vpon the Mother, and with giftes
As I will furnish thee, begin with her.
Vin.
Oh fie, fie, that's the wrong end my Lord. Tis meere impossible
that a mother by any gifts should become a bawde to her
owne Daughter!
Luss.
Nay then I see thou'rt but a puny in the subtill Mistery of
a woman:—why tis held now no dainty dish: The name
It do's Eclipse three quarters of a Mother;
Vind.
Dost so my Lord?
Let me alone then to Eclipse the fourth.
Luss.
Why well sayd, come ile furnish thee, but first
sweare to be true in all.
Vind.
True?
Luss.
Nay but sweare!
Vind.
Sweare?—I hope your honor little doubts my fayth.
Luss.
Yet for my humours sake cause I loue swearing.
Vind.
Cause you loue swearing, slud I will.
Luss.
Why ynough,
Ere long looke to be made of better stuff.
Vind.
That will do well indeed my Lord.
Luss.
Attend me?
Vind.
Oh.
Now let me burst, I'ue eaten Noble poyson,
We are made strange fellowes, brother, innocent villaines,
Wilt not be angry when thou hearst on't, thinkst thou?
Ifayth thou shalt; sweare me to foule my sister.
Sword I durst make a promise of him to thee,
Thou shalt dis-heire him, it shall be thine honor,
And yet now angry froath is downe in me,
It would not proue the meanest policy
In this disguize to try the fayth of both,
Another might haue had the selfe same office,
I and perhaps ore-wrought em, therefore I,
Being thought trauayld, will apply my selfe,
Vnto the selfe same forme, forget my nature,
As if no part about me were kin to em,
So touch 'em,—tho I durst a most for good,
Venture my lands in heauen vpon their good.
Exit.
Enter the discontented Lord Antonio, whose wife the Duchesses yongest Sonne rauisht; he Discouering the body of her dead to certaine Lords: and Hippolito.
L. Ant.
Draw neerer Lords and be sad witnesses
Of a fayre comely building newly falne,
Being falsely vndermined: violent rape
Has playd a glorious act, behold my Lords
A sight that strikes man out of me:
Piero.
That vertuous Lady?
Ant.
President for wiues?
Hip.
The blush of many weomen, whose chast presence,
Would ene call shame vp to their cheekes,
And make pale wanton sinners haue good colours.—
L. Ant.
Dead!
Her honor first drunke poyson, and her life,
Being fellowes in one house did pledge her honour,
Pier.
O greefe of many!
L. Anto.
I markt not this before.
A prayer Booke the pillow to her cheeke,
This was her rich confection, and another
Plastc'd in her right hand, with a leafe tuckt vp,
Poynting to these words.
Melius virtute mori, Quam per Dedecus viuere.
True and effectuall it is indeed.
Hip.
My Lord since you enuite vs to your sorrowes,
Lets truely tast'em, that with equall comfort,
As to our selues we may releiue your wrongs,
We haue greefe too, that yet walkes without Tong,
Curæ leues loquuntur, Maiores stupent.
L. Ant.
You deale with truth my Lord.
Lend me but your Attentions, and Ile cut
Long greefe into short words: last reuelling night.
About the Court, some Courtiers in the maske,
Putting on better faces then their owne,
Being full of frawde and flattery: amongst whome,
The Ducheses yongest sonne (that moth to honor)
Fild vp a Roome; and with long lust to eat,
Into my wearing; amongst all the Ladyes,
Singled out that deere forme; who euer liu'd,
As cold in Lust as shee is now in death;
(Which that step Duches—Monster knew to well;)
And therefore in the height of all the reuells,
When Musick was hard lowdest, Courtiers busiest,
And Ladies great with laughter;—O Vitious minute!
Vnfit but for relation to be spoke of,
Then with a face more impudent then his vizard
He harried her amidst a throng of Panders,
That liue vpon damnation of both kindes,
And fed the rauenous vulture of his lust,
(O death to thinke ont) she her honor forcst,
Deemd it a nobler dowry for her name,
To die with poyson then to liue with shame.
Hip.
A wondrous Lady; of rare fire compact,
Sh'as made her name an Empresse by that act,
Pier.
My Lord what iudgement followes the offender?
L. Ant.
Faith none my Lord it cooles and is deferd,
Pier.
Delay the doome for rape?
L. Ant,
O you must note who tis should die,
The Duchesse sonne, sheele looke to be a sauer,
“Iudgment in this age is nere kin to fauour.
Hip.
Nay then step forth thou Bribelesse officer;
I bind you all in steele to bind you surely,
Heer let your oths meet, to be kept and payd,
Which else will sticke like rust, and shame the blade,
Strengthen my vow, that if at the next sitting,
Iudgment speake all in gold, and spare the bloud
Of such a serpent, e'en before their seats,
To let his soule out, which long since was found,
Guilty in heauen.
We sweare it and will act it,
L. Anto.
Kind Gentlemen, I thanke you in mine Ire,
Hip.
Twere pitty?
The ruins of so faire a Monument,
Sould not be dipt in the defacers bloud,
Piero.
Her funerall shall be wealthy, for her name,
Merits a toombe of pearle; my Lord Antonio,
For this time wipe your Lady from your eyes,
No doubt our greefe and youres may one day court it,
When we are more familiar with Reueng,
L. Anto.
That is my comfort Gentlemen, and I ioy,
In this one happines aboue the rest,
Which will be cald a miralce at last,
That being an old—man ide a wife so chast.
Exeunt.
| The Revengers Tragaedie [by Thomas Middleton] | |