 | The Dvke of Millaine |  |
Actus Secun.
Scæ. Prima.
Tiberio, Stephano.Ste.
How? left the Court?
Tib.
Without guard or retinue
Fitting a Prince.
Ste.
No enemy neere, to force him?
To leaue his owne strengths, yet deliuer vp
Of him that hates him? 'Tis beyond example:
You neuer heard the motiues that induc't him,
To this strange course?
Tib.
No, those are Cabinet councels,
And not to be communicated, but
To such as are his owne, and sure; Alas,
We fill vp emptie places, and in publique,
Are taught to giue our suffrages to that,
Which was before determin'd: And are safe so;
Signiour Francisco (vpon whom alone
His absolute power is with al strength confer'd,
During his absence) can with ease resolue you.
To me, they are Riddles.
Steph.
Well, he shall not be,
My Oedipus, Ile rather dwell in darkenesse.
But my good Lord Tiberio, This Francisco,
Is, on the suddaine, strangely rays'd.
Tib.
O Sir,
He tooke the thryuing course: He had a Sister,
A faire one too; With whom (as it is rumor'd)
The Duke was too familiar; But she cast off,
(What promises soeuer past betweene them)
Vpon the sight of this, forsooke the Court,
And since was neuer seene; To smother this,
(As Honors neuer faile to purchase silence)
Francisco first was grac'd, and step by step,
Is rais'd vp to this height.
Steph.
But how is his absence borne?
Tib.
Sadly, it seemes
By the Dutches: For since he left the Court,
For the most part, she hath kept her priuate Chamber,
No visitants admitted; In the Church,
She hath been seene to pay her pure deuotions,
Season'd with teares: And sure her sorrow's ttue,
And brauerie cast off: And she that lately
Riuald Poppæa in her varied shapes,
Or the Ægyptian Queene: Now, widow-like,
In Sable coluors (as, her Husbands dangers,
Strangled in her, the vse of any pleasure)
Mournes for his absence.
Steph.
It becomes her Vertue,
And does confirme, what was reported of her.
Tib.
You take it right; But on the other side,
The darling of his Mother, Mariana,
As there were an Antipathy, betweene
Her, and the Dutches passions: And as
Sh'ad no dependance on her brothers fortune,
She ne're appear'd so full of mirth.
Steph.
'Tis strange.
But see, her fauorite: & accompani'd,
Ent. Graccho with fidlers
To your report.
Grac.
You shall scrape, and Ile sing,
A scuruie Dittie, to a scuruie tune,
Repine who dares.
Fidl.
But if we should offend,
The Dutches hauing silenc't vs: & these Lords,
Stand by to heare vs.
Grac.
They, in Name are Lords,
But I am one in Power: And for the Dutches,
But yester-day we were merrie for her pleasure,
We now'l be for my Ladies.
Tib.
Signiour Graccho.
Gr.
A poore Man, Sir, a Seruant to the Princes:
But you, great Lords, and Councellors of State,
Whom I stand bound to reuerence.
Tib.
Come, we know
You are a Man in grace.
Grac.
Fye, no: I grant,
And haue successe at all times to her closet,
Such is my impudence: when your graue Lordships
Are masters of the modesty, to attend
Three houres, nay sometimes foure; and then bid waite
Vpon her the next morning.
Ste.
He derides vs.
Tib.
Pray you, what newes is stirring? you know all.
Grac.
Who, I? alas, I haue no intelligence
At home, nor abroad: I onely sometimes guesse
The change of the times; I should ask of your Lordships
Who are to keepe their Honors, who to loose 'em;
Who the Duchesse smil'd on last, or on whom frown'd,
You onely can resolue me: we poore waiters
Deale (as you see) in mirth, and foolish fyddles:
It is our element; and could you tell me,
What point of State 'tis, that I am commanded
To muster vp this musicke: on mine honesty,
You should much befriend me.
Ste.
Sirra, you grow sawcie.
Tib.
And would be layd by the heeles.
Grac.
Not by your Lordships,
Without a speciall warrant; looke to your owne stakes;
Were I committed, here come those would baile me:
Perhaps we might change places too.
Tib.
The Princesse;
Ent. Isabella, Mariana.
We must be patient.
Ste.
There's no contending.
Tib.
See, the informing rogue.
Ste.
That we should stoope
To such a Mushrome.
Mari.
Thou dost mistake; they durst not
Vse the least word of scorne, although prouok'd,
To any thing of mine. Goe, get you home,
And to your seruants, friends, and flatterers, number
The smooth-chin'd Courtiers are abroad.
Tib.
No way, to be a Free-man?
Ex. Tib. Steph.
Grac.
Your Excellence, hath the best guift to dispatch,
These Arras pictures of Nobilitie,
I euer read of.
Mari.
I can speake sometimes.
Grac.
And couer so your bitter Pills, with sweetnesse
Of Princely language to forbid reply,
They are greedily swallowed.
Isab.
But, the purpose Daughter,
That brings vs hither? Is it to bestow
A visit on this Woman? That, because
She only would be thoght truly to grieue,
The absence, and the dangers of my Son,
Proclaimes a generall sadnesse?
Mari.
If to vexe her,
May be interpreted to doe her Honor,
She shall haue many of 'em? Ile make vse
Of my short Raigne: my Lord, now gouernes all:
And she shall know, that her Idolater,
My Brother, being not by, now to protect her,
I am her equall.
Grac.
Of a little thing,
It is so full of Gall: A Diuell of this size,
Should they run for a wager to be spitefull,
Gets not a Hors-head of her.
Mari.
On her Birth-day,
We were forc'd to be merrie: & now she's musty
We must be sad, on paine of her displeasure;
We will, we will. This is her priuate Chamber,
Where like an Hypocrite, not a true Turtle,
She seemes to mourne her absent Mate, her Seruants
Attending her like Mutes: But Ile speake to her
And in a high Key too, play any thing
And we will haue rare sport.
Song.
Marcelia aboue in blacke.
Isab.
She frownes, as if
Her lookes could fright vs.
Mari.
May it please your greatnesse,
We heard that your late Physicke hath not work'd,
And that breeds Melancholy, as your Doctor tells vs:
To purge which, we that are born your Highnesse Vassals,
And are to play the fooles to doe you seruice,
Present you with a fit of mirth: what thinke you
Of a new Anticke?
Isab.
'Twould show rare in Ladies.
Mari.
Being intended for so sweet a creature,
Were she but pleas'd to grace it.
Isab.
Fye, she will,
Be it nere so meane: shee's made of courtesie.
Mari.
The Mistresse of all hearts; one smile I pray you
On your poore seruants, or a Fidlers fee:
Comming from those faire hands, though but a Ducat,
We will inshrine it as a holy relique.
Isab.
'Tis Wormewood, and it workes.
Marc.
If I lay by
My feares, and griefes (in which you should be sharers)
If doting age could let you but remember,
You haue a sonne; or frontlesse impudence,
You are a sister; and in making answere,
To what was most vnfit for you to speake,
Or me to heare: borrow of my iust anger.
Isab.
A set speech on my life.
Mari.
Pen'd by her Chaplaine.
Marce.
Yes, it can speake, without instruction speake;
And tell your want of manners, that y'are rude,
And sawcily rude, too.
Grac.
Now the game begins.
Marce.
You durst not else on any hire or hope,
Put on the desperate boldnesse, to disturbe
The least of my retirements.
Mari.
Note her now.
Marc.
For both shal vnderstand; though th'one presume
Vpon the priuiledge due to a Mother,
The Duke stands now on his owne legs, and needs
No nurse to leade him.
Isab.
How, a Nurse?
Marce.
A dry one,
And vselesse too: But I am mercifull,
And dotage signes your pardon.
Isab.
I defie thee,
Thee, and thy pardons, proud one.
Marc.
For you, Puppet.
Mari.
What, of me? Pine-tree.
Marc.
Little you are, I grant,
And haue as little worth, but much lesse wit,
You durst not else, the Duke being wholly mine,
His power and honour mine, and the alleageance,
You owe him, as a Subiect, due to me.
Mari.
To you?
Marc.
To me: And therefore as a Vassal,
From this houre learne to serue me, or, you'l feele,
I must make vse of my authoritie,
And as a Princesse punish it.
Isab.
A Princesse?
Mari.
I had rather be a Slaue vnto a Moore,
Than know thee for my equall.
Isab.
Scornefull thing,
Proud of a white Face.
Mari.
Let her but remember
The Issue in her Legge:
Isab.
The charge, she puts
The State too, for Perfumes.
And, howsoe're
She seemes, when she's made vp: As she's her selfe,
She stinkes aboue ground. O that I could reach you,
The little one you scorne so, with her nayles,
Would teare your painted Face, & scratch those Eyes out.
Doe but come downe.
Marc.
Were there no other way,
But leaping on thy Neck, to breake mine owne,
Rather than be outbrau'd thus.
Grac.
Fourtie Ducats
Vpon the little Hen: She's of the kind,
And will not leaue the Pit.
Mari.
That it were lawfull
To meete her with a Ponyard, and a Pistoll;
Ent. Marc. below.
But these weake hands shall shew my spleene.
Marc.
Where are you? You Modicum, you Dwarfe.
Mari.
Here, Giantesse, here.
Ent. Francisco. Tib. Steph.
Franc.
A tumult in the Court?
Mari.
Let her come on.
Franc.
What winde hath rais'd this tempest?
Seuer 'em, I command you. What's the cause?
Speake Mariana.
Mari.
I am out of breath;
But we shall meete, we shall. And doe you heare, Sir,
Or right me on this Monster (she's three foote
Too high for a Woman) or ne're looke to haue,
A quiet houre with me.
Isab.
If my Sonne were here,
And would endure this; May a Mothers curse
Persue, and ouertake him.
Franc.
O forbeare,
In me he's present, both in power, and will;
And Madam, I much grieue, that in his absence,
There should arise the least distaste to moue you:
It being his principall, nay only charge,
As when himselfe perform'd the willing Office.
Mari.
This is fine, yfaith.
Grac.
I would I were well off.
Franc.
And therefore, I beseech you Madam, frowne not
(Till most vnwittingly he hath deseru'd it)
On your poore Seruant; To your Excellence,
I euer was, and will be such: And lay,
The Dukes authoritie, trusted to me,
With willingnesse at your feet.
Mari.
O base.
Isab.
We are like
To haue an equall Iudge.
Franc.
But should I finde
That you are touc'd in any point of Honor,
Or that the least neglect is falne vpon you,
I then stand vp a Prince.
Fidl.
Without reward,
Pray you dismisse vs.
Grac.
Would I were fiue Leagues hence.
Franc.
I will be partial to none, not to my selfe,
Be you but pleas'd to shew me my offence,
Or if you hold me in your good opinion,
Name those that haue offended you.
Isab.
I am one,
And I will iustifie it.
Mari.
Thou art a base Fellow,
To take her part.
Franc.
Remember, she's the Dutchesse.
Marc.
But vs'd with more contempt, than if I were
A Peasants Daughter: Bayted, and hooted at
Like to a common Strumpet: With lowd noyses,
Forc'd from my prayers: And my priuate Chamber
(Which with all willingnesse I would make my Prison
During the absence of my Lord) deni'd me.
Franc.
Were you an Actor,
In this lewd Comedie?
Mari.
I marrie was I,
And will be one againe.
Isab.
I'le ioyne with her,
Though you repine at it.
Franc.
Thinke not then, I speake
(For I stand bound to honour, and to serue you)
But that the Duke, that liues in this great Lady,
For the contempt of him, in her, commands you
To be close Prisoners.
Isab., Mari.
Prisoners?
Franc.
Beare them hence.
This is your charge my Lord Tiberio.
And Stephano, this is yours.
Marce.
I am not cruell,
But pleas'd they may haue libertie.
Isab.
Pleas'd, with a mischiefe.
Mari.
I'le rather liue in any loathsome Dungeon,
Than in a Paradice, at her intreatie:
And, for you vpstart.
Steph.
There is no contending.
Tib.
What shall become of these?
Franc.
See them well whip'd,
As you will answere it.
Tib.
Now Signiour Graccho,
What thinke you of your greatnesse?
Grac.
I preach patience,
And must endure my fortune.
Exe. omnes, preter. Fra. & Marcel.
Fidl.
I was neuer yet
At such a hunts-vp, nor was so rewarded.
Fr.
Let them first know themselues, & how you are
To be seru'd, and honour'd: Which, when they confesse,
You may againe receiue them to your fauour:
Marce.
With my thankes,
The Duke shall pay you his, If he returne
To blesse vs with his presence.
Franc.
There is nothing
That can be added to your faire acceptance:
That is the prize, indeed: All else, are blankes,
And of no value. As in vertuous actions,
The vndertaker finds a full reward,
Although confer'd vpon vnthankefull Men;
So, any seruice done to so much sweetnesse,
(Howeuer dangerous, and subiect to
An ill construction) in your fauour finds
A wish'd, and glorious end.
Marce.
From you, I take this
As loyall dutie, but in any other,
It would appeare grosse flatterie.
Franc.
Flatterie, Madam?
You are so rare, and excellent in all things,
And rais'd so high vpon a Rock of goodnesse,
As that vice cannot reach you: who, but looks on
This Temple built by Nature to Perfection,
But must bow to it: and out of that zeale,
Not only learne to adore it, but to loue it.
Marce.
Whither will this fellow?
Franc.
Pardon therefore Madam,
If an excesse in me of humble dutie,
Teach me to hope (and though it be not in
The power of Man to merit such a blessing)
My pietie (for it is more than loue)
May find reward.
Marce.
You haue it in my thankes:
And on my hand, I am pleas'd, that you shal take
A full possession of it. But take heed,
That you fixe here, and feed no hope beyond it;
Franc.
Be it death,
And death with torments, Tyrants neuer found out:
Yet I must say I loue you.
Marce.
As a Subiect,
And 'twill become you.
Franc.
Farewell circumstance:
And since you are not pleas'd to vnderstand me,
But by a plaine, and vsuall forme of speech:
All superstitious reuerence lay'd by,
I loue you as a Man, and as a Man
I would enioy you. Why do you start, and flye me?
I am no Monster, and you but a Woman:
A Woman made to yeeld, and by example
Told it is lawfull; Fauours of this nature,
Are, in our age, no miracles in the greatest:
And therefore Lady—
Marce.
Keepe of. O you Powers!
Libidinous Beast, and ad to that vnthankfull
(A crime, which Creatures wanting reason, flye from)
Are all the Princely bounties, fauours, honours,
Which (with some preiudice to his owne wisedome)
Thy Lord, and Rayser hath confer'd vpon thee,
In three dayes absence buried? Hath he made thee
(A thing obscure, almost without a name)
The enuie of great Fortunes? Haue I grac'd thee,
Beyond thy rancke? And entertain'd thee, as
A Friend, and not a Seruant? And is this,
This impudent attempt to taint mine Honour,
The faire returne of both our ventur'd fauours?
Franc.
Heare my excuse.
Marce.
The Diuell may plead mercie,
And with as much assurance, as thou yeeld one.
Burnes Lust so hot in thee? Or, is thy pride
Growne vp to such a height, that, but a Princesse,
His Wife, and Princesse, to whom thou art ti'de
In all the bonds of Dutie? Reade my life,
And finde one act of mine so loosely carried,
That could inuite a most selfe-louing Foole,
Set of, with all that fortune could throw on him,
To the least hope to find way to my fauour:
And (what's the worst mine enemies could wish me)
I'le be thy Strumpet.
Franc.
'Tis acknowledg'd Madam,
That your whole course of life hath been a patterne
For chast, and vertuous Women; In your beautie
(Which I first saw, and lou'd) as a faire Cristall,
I read your heauenly mind, cleere and vntainted;
And while the Duke did prize you to your valew
(Could it haue been in Man to pay that dutie)
I well might enuie him, but durst not hope
To stop you, in your full carreer of goodnesse:
But now I find, that he's falne from his fortune,
And (howsoeuer he would appeare doting)
Growne cold in his affection: I presume,
From his most barbarous neglect of you,
To offer my true seruice: Nor stand I bound,
To looke back on the curtesies of him,
That, of all liuing Men, is most vnthankfull.
Marce.
Vnheard of impudence!
Franc.
You'l say I am modest,
When I haue told the Storie. Can he taxe me
(That haue receiu'd some worldly trifles from him)
For being ingratefull? When, he that first tasted,
And hath so long enioy'd your sweet embraces
(In which, all blessings that our fraile condition
Is capable of, is wholy comprehended)
As cloy'd with happinesse, contemnes the giuer.
Of his felicitie? And, as he reach'd not,
Vnlesse he pay those fauours he stands bound to,
With fell and deadly hate? You thinke he loues you,
With vnexampled feruor: Nay, dotes on you,
As there were something in you more than Woman:
When on my knowledge, he long since hath wish'd,
You were among the dead: And I, you scorne so,
Perhaps, am your preseruer.
Marce.
Blesse me good Angels,
Or I am blasted. Lyes so false, and wicked,
And fashion'd to so damnable a purpose,
Cannot be spoken by a humane tongue.
My Husband, hate me? Giue thy selfe the Lye,
False, and accurs'd; Thy Soule (if thou hast any)
Can witnesse, neuer Lady stood so bound,
To the vnfained affection of her Lord,
As I doe, to my Sforza. If thou would'st worke
Vpon my weake credulitie, Tell me rather,
That the Earth moues; The Sunne, and Starres, stand still;
The Ocean keeps nor Floods, nor Ebbes; Or that,
Ther's peace betweene the Lyon, and the Lambe;
Or that, the rauenous Eagle, and the Doue,
Keepe in one Ayery, and bring vp their yong:
Or any thing that is auerse to Nature:
And I will sooner credit it, than that
My Lord can thinke of me, but as a Iewell,
He loues more than himselfe, and all the World.
Franc.
O Innocence, abus'd! Simplicitie cousen'd!
It were a sinne, for which we haue no name,
To keepe you longer in this wilfull errour.
Reade his affection here; And then obserue
How deere he holds you; 'Tis his Character,
Which cunning yet, could neuer counterfeit.
Marce.
'Tis his hand, I am resolu'd of't.
I'le try what the Inscription is.
Pray you doe so.
Marc.
You know my pleasure, & the houre of Marcelias
death, which faile not to execute, as you will answere the
contrarie, not with your Head alone, but with the ruine of
your whole Famely. And this written with mine owne
Hand, and Signed with my priuie Signet, shall be your sufficient
Warrant.
Lodouico Sforza.
I doe obey it, euerie word's a Poynard,And reaches to my Heart.
She swones.
Fran.
What haue I done?
Madam, for Heauens sake, Madam. O my Fate!
I'le bend her body: This is yet some pleasure,
I'le kisse her into a new life. Deare Lady:
She stirs: For the Dukes sake, for Sforza's sake.
Marc.
Sforzas? Stand off: Though dead, I will be his,
And euen my Ashes shall abhorre the touch
Of any other. O vnkind, and cruell.
Learne Women, learne to trust in one another;
There is no faith in Man: Sforza is false,
False to Marcelia.
Franc.
But I am true,
And liue to make you happie. All the Pompe,
State, and obseruance you had being his,
Compar'd to what you shall enioy when mine,
Shall be no more remembred. Loose his memory,
And looke with chearefull beames on your new Creature:
And know what he hath plotted for you good,
Fate cannot alter. If the Emperour,
Take not his life, at his returne he dyes,
And by my Hand: My Wife, that is his Heire,
Shall quickly follow; Then we Raigne alone,
For with this Arme I'le swim through Seas of blood,
Or make a Bridge, arch'd with the bones of Men,
But I will graspe my aymes in you my deerest,
Deerest, and best of Women.
Thou art a Villaine?
All attributes of Arch-Villaines made into one,
Cannot expresse thee. I preferre the hate
Of Sforza, though it marke me for the Graue,
Before thy base affection. I am yet
Pure, and vnspotted, in my true loue to him;
Nor shall it be corrupted, though he's tainted;
Nor will I part with Innocence, because
He is found guiltie. For thy selfe, thou art
A thing, that equall with the Diuell himselfe,
I doe detest, and scorne.
Franc.
Thou then art nothing:
Thy life is in my power, disdainefull Woman:
Thinke on't, and tremble.
Marc.
No, though thou wert now
To play thy hangmans part. Thou well may'st be
My Executioner, and art only fit
For such employment; But ne're hope to haue,
The least grace from me. I will neuer see thee,
But as the shame of Men: So, with my curses
Of horror to thy Conscience in this life;
And paines in Hell hereafter: I spit at thee,
And making hast to make my peace with heauen,
Expect thee as my Hangman.
Ex. Marc.
Franc.
I am lost,
In the discouerie of this fatall secret.
Curs'd hope that flatter'd me, that wrongs could make her
A stranger to her goodnesse; All my plots
Turne backe vpon my selfe; But I am in,
And must goe on: And since I haue put off
From the Shoare of Innocence, guilt be now my Pilot.
Reuenge first wrought me, Murther's his Twin-brother,
One deadly sin then helpe to cure another.
| The Dvke of Millaine | |