 | The Dvke of Millaine |  |
Act. Prim.
Scæ. Pri.
Graccho, Iouio, Giouanni, with Flagons.Gra.
Take euery man his flagon: giue the oath
To al you meet: I am this day, the state drunkard;
(I am sure against my will) And if you finde
A man at ten, that's sober, hee's a Traitor,
And in my name arrest him.
Io.
Very good Sir:
But say hee be a Sexton?
Gra.
If the bells,
Ring out of tune, as if the street were burning,
And he cry 'tis rare Musicke: bid him sleepe,
'Tis a signe he has tooke his liquour; And if you meet
An officer preaching of sobriety,
Vnlesse he read it in Geneua print,
Lay him by the heeles.
Io.
But thinke you tis a fault
To be found sober?
Gra.
It is Capitall Treason,
Or if you Mittigate it, Let such pay
Fortie Crownes to the poore; But giue a pention
To all the magistrates, you find singing catches,
Or their Wiues dauncing; For the Courtiers reeling,
And the Duke himselfe, (I dare not say distemperd,
But kind, and in his tottering chaire carousing)
They doe the countrie seruice. If you meet,
One that eates bread, a child of Ignorance,
And bred vp in the darkenesse of no drinking,
His drench, it skilles not: What's a priuate man
For the publike honour? we haue nought else to thinke on.
And so deere friends, copartners in my trauailes
Drinke hard; and let the health run through the City,
Vntill it reele againe: and with me crie:
Long liue the Dutches.
Enter Tiberio Stephano.
Io.
Heere are two Lords; what thinke you?
Shall we giue the oath to them?
Gra.
Fie, no: I know them,
You neede not sweare 'em; your Lord, by his pattent
Stands bound to take his rouse. Long liue the Dutches.
Exit Gra. Io.
Step.
The cause of this. But yesterday the court,
Wore the sad liuerie of distrust, and feare;
No smile, not in a buffon to bee seene,
Or common iester; The great Duke himselfe,
Had sorrow in his face: which waited on
By his mother, sister, and his fairest Dutches,
Dispers'd a silent mourning through all Millaine:
As if some great blow had been giuen the State,
Or were at least expected.
Tib.
Stephano,
I know, as you are noble, you are honest,
And capable of secrets, of more weight,
Then now I shall deliuer. If that Sforza,
The present Duke, (though his whole life hath beene,
But one continued pilgrimage, through dangers,
Affrights, and horrors: which, his Fortune, guided
By his strong Iudgement, still hath ouercome)
Appeares now shaken, it deserues no wonder.
All that his youth hath laboured for: the haruest
Sowen by his industry, readie to be reap'd, to,
Being now at the stake; And all his hopes confirmd,
Or lost for euer.
Step.
I know no such hazard:
His guards are stronge, and sure, His coffers full,
His prouident care hath wrought: that though warre rages
In most parts of our westerne world, there is
No enemie neere vs.
Tib.
Dangers that we see
To threaten ruine, are with ease preuented:
But those strike deadly, that come vnexpected;
The lightning is farre off: yet soone as seene,
We may behold the terrible effects,
That it produceth. But Ile helpe your knowledge,
And make his cause of feare familiar to you.
The warre so long continued betweene
The Emperour Charles, and Francis the French King
Haue interrest'd in eithers cause, the most
Of the Italian Princes: Among which Sforza,
As one of greatest power, was sought by both,
But with assurance hauing one his frend,
The other liu'd his enemie.
Step.
Tis true,
And 'twas a doubtfull choice.
Tib.
But hee, well knowing,
And hauing too, (it seemes) the Spanish pride,
Lent his assistance to the King of France:
Which hath so farre incens'd the Emperor,
That all his hopes, and honours are embark'd,
With his great Patrons Fortune.
Step.
Which stands faire,
For ought I yet can heare.
Tib.
But should it change,
The Duke's vndon. They haue drawne to the field
Two royall armies, full of fierie youth,
Of equall spirit to dare, and power to doe:
So neere entrench'd, that 'tis beyond all hope,
Of humaine councell, they can er'e be seuerd,
Vntill it be determin'd by the sword,
Who hath the better cause. For the successe,
Most miserably guilty. How vncertaine,
The Fortune of the warre is, children know;
And, it being in suspence, on whose faire Tent,
Win'gd victory wil make her glorious stand;
You cannot blame the Duke, though he appeare,
Perplex'd, and troubled.
Step.
But why then,
In such a time when euery knee should bend,
For the successe, and safetie of his person,
Are these lowd triumphs? In my weake opinion,
They are vnseasonable.
Tib.
I iudge so too;
But onely in the cause to be excus'd.
It is the Dutchesse Birth-day: once a yeere
Solemniz'd, with all pompe, and ceremony:
In which, the Duke is not his owne, but hers:
Nay, euery day indeed, he is her creature,
For neuer man so doted; But to tell
The tenth part of his fondnesse, to a stranger,
Would argue me of fiction.
Step.
She's indeed,
A Lady of most exquisite forme.
Tib.
She knowes it,
And how to prize it.
Step.
I ne're heard her tainted,
In any point of honour.
Tib.
On my life,
Shee's constant to his bed, and well deserues
His largest Fauours. But when beauty is
Stampt on great women, great in birth, and fortune,
And blowne by flatterers greater then it is,
'Tis seldome vnaccompanied with pride;
Nor is shee, that-way free. Presuming on
The Dukes affection, and her owne Desert,
Shee beares her selfe with such a Maiestie,
That Sforzas mother, (that would loose no part
Of what, was once her owne): Nor his faire Sister,
(A Lady too acquainted with her worth,
Will brooke it well; And howsoer'e, their hate,
Is smother'd for a time, Tis more then feard,
It will at length breake out.
Step.
Hee, in whose power 'tis,
Turne all to the best.
Tib.
Come, let vs to the Court,
We there shall see, all brauery, and cost,
That art can boast of.
Exeunt.
Step.
Ile beare you company.
Enter Francisco, Isabella, Mariana.
Ma.
I will not goe, I scorne to be a spot
In her proud traine.
Isa.
Shall I, that am his mother,
Be so indulgent, as to waite on her,
That owes me duty?
Fra.
Tis done to the Duke,
And not to her. And my sweet wife remember,
And Madam, if you please receiue my councell,
As Sforza is your sonne, you may command him,
And as a sister you may challenge from him,
A brothers loue, and Fauour: But this graunted,
Consider hee's the Prince, and you, his Subiects,
And not to question, or contend with her,
Whom hee is pleasd to honour; Priuate men
Preferre their wiues: and shall hee being a Prince,
And blest with one that is the Paradice
Of sweetnesse, and of beauty, to whose charge,
The stocke of womens goodnesse is giuen vp,
Not vse her, like her selfe?
Isa.
You are euer forward,
To sing her praises
Ma.
Others are as faire,
Fra.
I detract from none,
In giuing her, wha'ts due. Were she defor'md,
Yet being the Dutches, I stand bound to serue her,
But as she is, to admire her. Neuer wife,
Met with a purer heate her husbands feruer;
A happie paire, one in the other blest:
She confident in her selfe, hee's wholy hers,
And cannot seeke for change: and he secure
That tis not in the power of man to tempt her.
And therefore, to contest with her that is
The stronger, and the better part of him,
Is more then folly; You know him of a nature,
Not to be play'd with: and should you forget
To 'obey him as your Prince, hee'le not remember,
The dutie that he owes you.
Isa.
Tis but trueth:
Come cleere our browes, and let vs to the banquet,
But not to serue his Idoll.
Ma.
I shall doe,
What may become the sister of a Prince,
But will not stoope, beneath it.
Fra.
Yet be wise,
Sore not too high to fall, but stoope to rise.
Exeunt.
Enter three Gentlemen setting forth a banquet.
1. Ge.
Quicke quicke for loues sake, let the court put on
Her choicest outside: Cost, and brauerie
Be onely thought of.
2. Gent.
All that may be had
To please the eye, the eare, taste, touch, or smell,
Are carefully prouided.
3. Gen.
Ther's a Masque,
Haue you heard what's the inuention?
1. Gent.
No matter,
It is intended for the Dutches honour.
And if it giue her glorious attributes,
'Twill please the Duke. They come.
3. Gent.
All is in order.
Enter Tiberio, Stephano, Francisco, Sforza, Marcellia, Isabella, Mariana, attendants
Sfo.
You are the Mistris of the feast, sit heere;
O my soules comfort: And when Sforza bowes
Thus low to doe you honour, let none thinke
The meanest seruice they can pay my loue,
But as a faire addition to those tytles,
They stand possest of. Let me glory in
My happinesse, and mightie Kings looke pale
With enuie, while I triumph in mine owne.
O mother looke on her, sister admire her:
And since this present age yeelds not a woman
Worthy to be her second, borrow of
Times past: and let imagination helpe
Of those canoniz'd Ladies Sparta boasts of,
And, in her greatnesse, Rome was proud to owe
To fashion: and yet still you must confesse,
The Phœnix of perfection ner'e was seene,
But in my faire Marcelia.
Fra.
She's indeede
The wonder of all times.
Tib.
Your excellence,
(Though I confesse you giue her but her owne)
Enforces her modestie to the defence
Of a sweet blush.
Sfo.
It neede not my Marcelia;
When most I striue to praise thee, I appeare
A poore detracter: For thou art indeed
So absolute in bodie, and in minde,
That, but to speake the least part to the height,
Would aske an Angels tongue: and yet then end
In silent admiration!
Isab.
You still court her,
Sfo.
A Mistris mother? she is more to me,
And euery day, deserues more to be su'de too.
Such as are cloyd with those they haue embrac'd,
May thinke their wooing done: No night to mee,
But is a brydall one, where Himen lights
His torches fresh, and new: And those delights,
Which are not to be cloth'd in ayrie sounds,
Inioyd, beget desires, as full of heat,
And Iouiall feruor, as when first I tasted
Her virgin fruit; Blest night, and be it numbred
Amongst those happy ones, in which a blessing
Was by the full consent of all the Starrs,
Confer'd vpon mankind.
Marc.
My worthiest Lord,
The onely obiect I behold with pleasure:
My pride, my glory, in a word my all;
Beare witnesse Heauen, that I esteeme my selfe
In nothing worthy of the meanest praise,
You can bestow, vnlesse it be in this,
That in my heart I loue, and honor you.
And but that it would smell of arrogance,
To speake my strong desire, and zeale to serue you:
I then could say, these eyes yet neuer saw
The rising Sun, but that my vowes, and prayers,
Were sent to Heauen, for the prosperitie
And safety of my Lord; Nor haue I euer
Had other studie, but how to appeare
Worthy your fauour: and that my embraces,
Might yeeld a fruitfull Haruest of content,
For all your noble trauaile, in the purchase,
Of her, that's still your seruant; By these lips,
(Which pardon mee, that I presume to kisse)
Sfo.
O sweare, for euer sweare.
Marce.
I ne're will seeke
Delight, but in your pleasure: and desire,
And age, and honours make you fit for Heauen,
That one Graue may receiue vs,
Sf.
'Tis belieu'd,
Belieu'd, my blest One.
Mari.
How she winds her selfe
Into his Soule!
Sf.
Sit all: Let others feed
On those grosse Cates, while Sforza banquets with
Immortall Viands, tane in at his Eyes.
I could liue euer thus. Command the Eunuch
To sing the Dittie that I last compos'd,
In prayse of my Marcelia. From whence?
Ent. Post
Post.
From Pauie, my dread Lord.
Sf.
Speake, is all lost?
Post.
The Letter will informe you.
Fran.
How his Hand shakes,
As he receiues it?
Mari.
This is some allay
To his hot passion.
Sf.
Though it bring death, ile read it.
May it please your Excellence to vnderstand, that the verie
houre I wrot this, I heard a bold defiance deliuered by a
Herald from the Emperor, which was chearefully receiu'd
by the King of France. The battailes being readie to ioyne,
and the Vantguard committed to my charge, inforces me
to end abruptly.
Your Highnesse humble Seruant, Gaspero.
Readie to ioyne, By this, then I am nothing,Or my Estate secure.
Marc.
My Lord.
Sf.
To doubt,
Is worse then to haue lost: And to despaire,
Is but to antidate those miseries,
Vpon this battailes fortune; In my Soule
Me thinkes there should be that Imperious power,
By supernaturall, not vsuall meanes,
T'informe me what I am. The cause consider'd,
Why should I feare? The French are bold and strong,
Their numbers full, and in their counsels wise:
But then, the haughtie Spaniard is all Fire,
Hot in his executions; Fortunate
In his attempts; Married to victorie:
I, there it is that shakes me.
Franc.
Excellent Lady:
This day was dedicated to your Honor:
One gale of your sweet breath will easily
Disperse these Clouds: And, but your selfe, ther's none
That dare speake to him.
Marc.
I will run the hazard.
My Lord?
Sf.
Ha: Pardon me Marcelia, I am troubled;
And stand vncertaine, whether I am Master
Of ought that's worth the owning.
Marc.
I am yours Sir;
And I haue heard you sweare, I being safe,
There was no losse could moue you. This day Sir,
Is by your guift made mine: Can you reuoke
A Grant made to Marcelia? Your Marcelia?
For whose loue, nay, whose honour (gentle Sir)
All deepe designes, and State affaires defer'd:
Be, as you purpos'd, merrie.
Sf.
Out of my sight,
And all thoughts that may strangle mirth forsake me.
Fall what can fall, I dare the worst of Fate;
Though the Foundation of the Earth should shrinke,
The glorious Eye of Heauen loose his Splendor:
Supported thus, I'le stand vpon the ruins,
No other sports? By Heauen he's not my friend,
That weares one Furrow in his Face. I was told
There was a Masque.
Franc.
They waite your Highnesse pleasure,
And when you please to haue it.
Sf.
Bid 'em enter:
Come, make me happie once againe. I am rap't,
'Tis not to day, to morrow, or the next,
But all my dayes, and yeeres shall be employed
To doe thee honour.
Marc.
And my life to serue you.
A Horne.
Franc.
Another Post? Goe hang him, hang him I say,
I will not interrupt my present pleasures,
Although his message should import my Head:
Hang him I say.
Marc.
Nay, good Sir, I am pleas'd,
To grant a little intermission to you:
Who knowes, but he brings newes, we wish to heare,
To heighten our delights.
Sf.
As wise as faire.
Ent. another Post.
From Gaspero?
Post.
That was, my Lord.
Sf.
How, dead?
Post.
With the deliuerie of this, and prayers,
To guard your Excellencie from certaine dangers,
He ceast to be a Man.
Sf.
All that my feares
Could fashion to me, or my enemies wish
Is falne vpon me. Silence, that harsh musicke,
'Tis now vnseasonable; A tolling Bell,
As a sad Harbinger to tell me, that,
This pamper'd lumpe of Flesh, must feast the Wormes.
'Tis fitter for me, I am sick.
Marc.
My Lord.
Sick to the death, Marcelia, Remoue
These signes of mirth, they were ominous, and but vsherd
Sorrow and ruine.
Marc.
Blesse vs Heauen!
Isab.
My Sonne.
Marc.
What suddaine change is this?
Sf.
All leaue the roome;
Ile beare alone the burthen of my griefe,
And must admit no partner. I am yet
Your Prince, wher's your obedience? Stay Marcelia:
I cannot be so greedie of a sorrow,
In which you must not share.
Marc.
And chearefully,
I will sustaine my part. Why looke you pale?
Where is that wonted constancie, and courage,
That dar'd the worst of Fortune? Where is Sforza?
To whom all dangers that fright common men,
Appear'd but Panicque terrors? Why doe you eye me
With such fix'd lookes? Loue, counsell, dutie, seruice,
May flow from me, not danger.
Sf.
O Marcelia!
It is for thee I feare: For thee, thy Sforza
Shakes like a coward; For my selfe, vnmou'd:
I could haue heard my troupes were cut in peeces,
My Generall slaine; And he; on whom my hopes
Of Rule, of State, of Life, had their dependance;
The King of France, my greatest friend, made prisoner
To so proud enemies.
Marc.
Then you haue iust cause
To show you are a Man.
Sf.
All this were nothing,
Though I ad to it, that I am assur'd
For giuing ayd to this vnfortunate King,
The Emperour incenc'd, layes his command
On his victorious Army, flesh'd with spoyle,
And sease on my Estates: Suppose that done too,
The Citie tane, the Kennels running blood,
The ransack'd Temples, falling on their Saints:
My Mother in my sight, toss'd on their Pikes,
And Sister rauish'd: And my selfe bound fast
In Chaines, to grace their Triumph: Or what else,
An Enemies insolence could load me with,
I would be Sforza still; But when I thinke,
That my Marcelia (to whom, all these
Are but as Atomes to the greatest Hill)
Must suffer in my cause: And for me suffer
All Earthly torments; Nay, euen those the damn'd
Houl for in Hell, are gentle strokes, compar'd
To what I feele Marcelia.
Marc.
Good Sir, haue patience:
I can as well partake your aduerse fortune,
As I thus long haue had an ample share,
In your prosperitie. Tis not in the power
Of Fate to alter me: For while I am,
In spight of't, I am yours.
Sf.
But should that will
To be so forc'd Marcelia? And I liue
To see those Eyes I prize aboue mine owne,
Dart fauours (though compel'd) vpon another?
Or those sweet Lips (yeelding Immortall Nectar)
Be gently touch'd by any but my selfe?
Thinke, thinke Marcelia, what a cursed thing
I were, beyond expression.
Marc.
Doe not feed
Those iealous thoughts; The only blessing that
Heauen hath bestow'd on vs, more then on beasts,
Is, that 'tis in our pleasure when to dye.
Besides, were I now in anothers power,
There are so many wayes to let out life,
I was borne only yours, and I will dye so.
Sf.
Angels reward the goodnesse of this Woman:
All I can pay is nothing. Why vncall'd for?)
Ent. Francis.
Franc.
It is of waight, Sir, that makes me thus presse
Vpon your priuacies. Your constant friend
The Marquisse of Pescara, tyr'd with hast,
Hath businesse that concernes your life and fortunes,
And with speed to impart.
Sf.
Waite on him hether;
Ex. Franc.
And deerest to thy Closet: Let thy prayers
Assist my counsels.
Marc.
To spare imprecations
Against my selfe; without you I am nothing.
Ex. Marc.
Sf.
The Marquisse of Pescara; A great Souldior:
And though he seru'd vpon the aduerse partie,
Euer my constant friend.
Enter Francisco, Pescara.
Franc.
Yonder he walkes,
Full of sad thoughts.
Pesc.
Blame him not good Francisco,
He hath much cause to grieue: Would I might end so,
And not ad this, to feare.
Sf.
My deere Pescara:
A miracle in these times, a friend and happie,
Cleaues to a falling fortune.
Pesc.
If it were
As well in my weake power, in act to raise it,
As 'tis to beare a part of sorrow with you;
You then should haue iust cause to say, Pescara
Look'd not vpon your State, but on your Vertues,
When he made suit to be writ in the List
Of those you fauord. But my hast forbids
All complement. Thus then, Sir, to the purpose.
The cause that vnattended brought me hether,
For Fame hath many Wings to bring ill tidings,
And I presume you haue heard it: But to giue you such,
Such friendly counsell, as perhaps may make
Your sad disaster, lesse.
Sf.
You are all goodnesse,
And I giue vp my selfe to be dispos'd of,
As in your wisedome you thinke fit.
Pesc.
Thus then, Sir.
To hope you can hold out against the Emperor,
Were flatterie in your selfe, to your vndooing;
Therefore, the safest course that you can take,
Is, to giue vp your selfe to his discretion,
Before you be compeld. For rest assur'd,
A voluntarie yeelding may find grace,
And will admit defence, at least excuse:
But should you linger doubtfull, till his Powers
Haue seas'd your Person, and Estates perforce,
You must expect extreames.
Sf.
I vnderstand you,
And I will put your counsell into act,
And speedilie; I only will take order
For some Domesticall affaires, that doe
Concerne me neerely, and with the next Sun
Ride with you; In the meane time, my best friend,
Pray take your rest.
Pesc.
Indeed, I haue trauaild hard,
And will embrace your counsell.
Ex. Pescara.
Sf.
With all care,
Attend my Noble friend. Stay you, Francisco,
You see how things stand with me?
Franc.
To my griefe:
And if the losse of my poore life could be
A Sacrifise, to restore them, as they were,
I willingly would lay it downe.
I thinke so:
For I haue euer found you true, and thankful,
Which makes me loue the building I haue rays'd,
In your aduancement: And repent no grace,
I haue conferd vpon you: And beleeue me,
Though now I should repeate my fauours to you,
The Titles I haue giuen you, and the meanes
Sutable to your Honours, that I thought you
Worthy my Sister, and my Family,
And in my Dukedome made you next my selfe:
It is not to vpbraid you: But to tell you
I find you are worthy of them in your loue,
And seruice to me.
Franc.
Sir, I am your Creature:
And any shape, that you would haue me weare,
I gladly will put on.
Sf.
Thus, then Francisco;
I now am to deliuer to your trust,
A weightie secret: Of so strange a nature,
And 'twill I know appeare so monstrous to you,
That you will tremble in the execution,
As much as I am tortur'd, to command it:
For 'tis a deed so horrid, that but to heare it,
Would strike into a Ruffian flesh'd in murthers,
Or an obdurate Hang-man, soft compassion;
And yet Francisco (of all Men the deerest,
And from me most deseruing) such my state,
And strange condition is, that thou alone,
Must know the fatall seruice, and performe it.
Franc.
These preparations, Sir, to worke a stranger,
Or to one, vnacquainted with your bounties,
Might appeare vsefull: But to me, they are
Needlesse impertinances: For, I dare doe,
What e're you dare command.
Sf.
But thou must sweare it,
That fright the wicked, or confirme the good:
Not to conceale it only, that is nothing;
But whensoe're my will shall speake, strike now:
To fall vpon't like Thunder.
Franc.
Minister
The Oath, in any way, or forme you please,
I stand resolu'd to take it.
Sf.
Thou must doe then,
What no maleuolent Star will dare to looke on,
It is so wicked: For which, Men will curse thee,
For being the Instrument: And the blest Angels,
Forsake me at my need, for being the Author:
For 'tis a deed of Night, of Night Francisco,
In which the memorie of all good Actions,
We can pretend too, shall be buried quick;
Or if we be remembred, it shall be
To fright posteritie, by our example:
That haue out-gone all presidents of Villaines,
That were before vs: And such as succeed,
Though taught in hels black schoole, shal ne'er com nere vs.
Art thou not shaken yet?
Franc.
I grant you moue me:
But to a Man confirm'd;
Sf.
Ile try your temper:
What thinke you of my Wife?
Franc.
As a thing Sacred:
To whose faire Name, and memorie, I pay gladly
These signes of dutie.
Sf.
Is she not the abstract
Of all that's rare, or to be wish't in Woman?
Franc.
It were a kind of blasphemy to dispute it:
But to the purpose Sir.
Sf.
Ad to her goodnesse,
Her tendernesse of me, Her care to please me,
Her Innocence, her honor: O I am lost
In the Ocean of her vertues, and her graces,
When I thinke of them.
Fran.
Now I finde the end
Of all your coniurations: there's some seruice
To be done for this sweet Lady; If she haue enemies
That she would haue remou'd?
Sf.
Alas Francisco,
Her greatest enemy is her greatest louer,
Yet in that hatred, her Idolater.
One smile of hers would make a sauage tame;
One accent of that tongue would calme the Seas,
Though all the windes at once stroue there for Empire.
Yet I, for whom she thinks all this too little,
Should I miscarry in this present iourney,
(From whence it is all number to a cypher,
I ner'e returne with honor) by thy hand
Must haue her murthered.
Fra.
Murther'd? Shee that loues so,
And so deserues to be belou'd againe?
And I, (who sometimes you were pleas'd to fauor)
Pick'd out the instrument?
Sf.
Doe not flye off:
What is decreed, can neuer be recal'd;
'Tis more than loue to her, that markes her out,
A wish'd companion to me, in both fortunes:
And strong assurance of thy zealous faith,
That giues vp to thy trust a secret, that
Racks should not haue forc'd from me. O Francisco:
There is no heauen without her: nor a hell,
Where she recides. I aske from her but iustice,
And what I would haue payd to her: had sickenesse,
Or any other accident diuorc'd,
Her purer soule, from his vnspotted body.
Are cheerefully attended to the fire,
By the wife, and slaue, that liuing they lou'd best,
To doe them seruice in another world:
Nor will I be lesse honor'd, that loue more.
And therefore trifle not, but in thy lookes,
Expresse a ready purpose to performe,
What I command, or by Marcelias soule,
This is thy latest minute.
Fran.
'Tis not feare
Of death, but loue to you, makes me embrace it;
But for mine owne security when 'tis done,
What warrant haue I? If you please to signe one,
I shall, though with vnwillingnesse and horror,
Perform your dreadfull charge.
Sf.
I will Francisco;
But still remember, that a Princes secrets
Are balme, conceal'd: but poyson, if discouer'd.
I may come backe; then this is but a tryall,
To purchase thee, if it were possible,
A neerer place in my affection; but
I know thee honest.
Fran.
'Tis a Character
I will not part with.
Sf.
I may liue to reward it.
Exeunt.
| The Dvke of Millaine | |