 | The Renegado |  |
Scæna Prima.
Enter Master, Boteswaine.Master.
He does begin to eate?
Botes.
A little, Master,
But our best hope for his recouery, is that
His rauing leaues him, and those dreadfull words,
Damnation, and despayre, with which he euer
Ended all his discourses are forgotten.
Mast.
This stranger is a most religious man sure,
And I am doubtfull whether his charity,
In the relieuing of our wants, or care
To cure the wounded conscience of Grimaldi,
Botes.
Can you guesse
What the reason should be that we neuer mention
The Church, or the high Altar, but his melancholie
Growes, and increases on him?
Maist.
I haue heard him
(When he gloried to professe himselfe an Atheist,)
Talke often and with much delight and boasting,
Of a rude prancke he did ere he turn'd Pirat,
The memory of which, as it appeares,
Lies heauy on him.
Botes.
Pray you let me vnderstand it.
Maist.
Vpon a solemne day when the whole City
Ioyn'd in deuotion, and with barefoote steps
Pass'd to S. Markes, the Duke and the whole Signiory,
Helping to perfit the Religious pompe,
With which they were receaued; when all men else
Were full of teares, and gron'd beneath the waight
Of past offences (of whose heauy burden
They came to be absolu'd and freed,) our Captaine,
Whether in scorne of those so pious rites
He had no feeling of, or else drawne to it
Out of a wanton irreligious madnesse,
(I know not which) ranne to the holy man,
As he was of doing the worke of grace,
And snatching from his hands the sanctifide meanes
Dash'd it vpon the pauement.
Botes.
How escaped he?
It being a deede deseruing death with torture.
Mast.
The generall amazement of the people
Gaue him leaue to quit the Temple, and a Gundelo,
(Prepar'd it seemes before) brought him aboard,
Since which he nere saw Venice. The remembrance
Of this, it seemes, torments him; aggrauated
With a strong beleefe he cannot receaue pardon
For this fowle fact, but from his hands against whom
It was committed.
And vvhat course intendes
His heauenly Physitian, reuerend Francisco,
To beate downe this opinion.
Mast.
He promis'd
To vse some holy and religious finenesse,
To this good end, and in the meane time charg'd me
To keepe him darke, and to admit no visitants
But on no termes to crosse him. Heere he comes.
Enter Grimaldi, with a Booke.
Gri.
For theft! he that restores trebble the value,
Makes satisfaction, and for want of meanes
To doe so, as a slaue must serue it out
Till he hath made full payment. Ther's hope left heere
O vvith vvhat vvil ingnesse vvould I giue vp
My liberty to those that I haue pillag'd
And vvish the numbers of my yeeres though wasted
In the most sordid slauery might equall
The rapines I haue made, till with one voyce
My patient sufferings, might exact from my
Most cruell creditors, a full remission,
An eies losse with an eie, limbs with a limb,
A sad accompt! yet to finde peace within heere,
Though all such as I haue maim'd, and dismembred
In drunken quarrells, or orecome with rage
When they were giu'n vp to my power, stood heere now
And cride for restitution; to appease 'em,
I vvould doe a bloody iustice on my selfe;
Pull out these eies that guided me to rauish
Their sight from others; lop these legs that bore me
To barbarous violence, with this hand cut off
This instrument of wrong, till nought were left me
But this poore bleeding limblesse truncke, which gladly
Ha! what thinke I
Of petty forfeitures, in this reuerend habit,
(All that I am turnd into eies) I looke on
A deede of mine so fiendlike, that repentance,
Though with my teares I taught the sea new tides,
Can neuer wash off; all my thefts, my rapes
Are veniall trespasses compar'd to what
I offer'd to that shape, and in a place too
Where I stood bound to kneele to't.
kneeles
Enter Francisco in a Cope like a Bishop.
Fran.
Tis forgiuen,
I with his tongue (whom in these sacred vestments
With impure hands thou didst offend) pronounce it,
I bring peace to thee, see that thou deserue it
In thy fayre life heereafter.
Gri.
Can it bee!
Dare I beleeue this vision, or hope
A pardon ere may finde me?
Fran.
Purchase it
By zealous vndertakings, and no more
T'will be remembred.
Gri.
What celestiall balme
I feele now pour'd into my wounded conscience?
What penance is there Ile not vndergoe
Though nere so sharpe and rugged, with more pleasure
Then flesh and blood ere tasted, shew me true sorrow,
Arm'd vvith an iron vvhip, and I vvill meete
The stripes she brings along vvith her, as if
They vvere the gentle touches of a hand,
That comes to cure me. Can good deeds redeeme me?
I vvill rise vp a vvonder to the vvorld,
When I haue giuen strong proofes how I am altred,
That I was borne in, to captiuity,
Will make their number equall, that I shall
Deliuer from the oare; and vvinne as many
By the cleerenesse of my actions, to looke on
Their misbeleefe, and loth it. I will be
A conuoy for all Marchants: and thought vvorthy
To be reported to the vvorld heereafter,
The child of your deuotion, nurs'd vp
And made strong by your charity, to breake through
All dangers Hell can bring foorth to oppose me;
Nor am I though my fortunes were thought desperate,
Now you haue reconcil'd me to my selfe,
So voyd of vvorldly meanes, but in despight
Of the proud Viceroyes, vvrongs I can doe something
To vvitnesse of my change; when you please trye me,
And I will perfit vvhat you shall inioyne me,
Or fall a ioyfull Martyr.
Fran.
You vvill reape
The comfort of it, liue yet vndiscouer'd,
And vvith your holy meditations strengthen
Your Christian resolution, ere long
You shall heare further from me.
Grimal.
I'll attend
Exit Francisco.
All your commands with patience; come my Mates,
I hitherto haue liu'd an ill example,
And as your Captaine lead you on to mischiefe,
But now vvill truely labour, that good men
May say heereafter of me to my glory,
Let but my power and meanes, hande vvith my vvill,
His good endeuours, did waigh downe his ill.
Exeunt Grimaldi, Master. Boteswaine.
Enter Francisco.
Fran.
This penitence is not counterfeit, howsoeuer
Good actions are in themselues rewarded,
My trauailes to meete vvith a double crowne,
If that Vitelli come off safe, and prooue
Enter Gaz.
O I shall haue intelligence, how now Gazet,
Why these sad lookes and teares?
Gaz.
Teares sir? I haue lost
My worthy Master, your rich heyre seemes to mourne for
A miserable father, your young vvidow
Following a bedrid husband to his graue,
Would haue her neighbours thinke she cries, and rores,
That she must part vvith such a goodman doe nothing,
When t'is because he stayes so long aboue ground,
And hinders a rich suitor: all is come out sir,
We are smok'd for being cunnicatchers, my master
Is put in prison, his she customer
Is vnder garde to, these are things to weepe for;
But mine owne losse considerd, and vvhat a fortune
I haue, as they say, snatch'd out of my chops,
Would make a man runne mad.
Fran.
I scarce haue leasure,
I am so wholy taken vp vvith sorrow,
For my lou'de pupill to enquire thy fate,
Yet I vvill heare it.
Gaz.
Why sir, I had bought a place,
A place of credit to, and had gone through with it
I should haue beene made an Eunuch, there was honour,
For a late poore prentice, when vpon the suddaine
There was such a hurleburley in the Court,
That I was glad to runne away and carry
The price of my office with me.
Fran.
Is that all?
You haue made a sauing voyage; we must thinke now,
Though not to free, to comfort sad Uitelli,
My greeu'd soule suffers for him.
Gazet.
I am sad too;
But had I beene an Eunuch
Fran.
Thinke not on it.
Exeunt.
| The Renegado | |