University of Virginia Library

Act. 4.

Scæn. 1.

Enter Lorenzo, Captains.
Lor.
Mantua is ours; place a strong garrison in it
To keep it so; and as a due reward
To your brave service, be our Governor in it.

1 Capt:
I humbly thank your Excellence.

Exit.
Lor.
Gonzaga is yet out of our gripe; but his strong Fort
St. Leo, which he holds impregnable
By the aids of art, as nature, shall not long
Retard our absolute conquest. The escape
Of fair Matilda, my supposed Mistress,
(For whose desir'd possession 'twas given out
I made this war) I value not; alas
Cupid's too feeble-ey'd to hit my heart,
Or could he see, his arrows are too blunt
To pierce it; his imagin'd torch is quench'd
With a more glorious fire of my ambition
T'enlarge my Empire: soft and silken amours,
With Carpet-Courtship, which weak Princes stile
The happy issue of a flourishing peace,
My toughness scorns: Were there an abstract made
Of all the eminent and canoniz'd Beauties
By truth recorded, or by Poets feign'd,
I could unmov'd behold it, as a Picture
Commend the workmanship, and think no more on't;
I have more noble ends. Have you not heard yet
Of Alonzo, or Pisano?

2 Cap.
My Lord, of neither.

Lor.
Two turbulent spirits unfit for discipline,
Much less command in war; if they were lost,
I shall not pine with mourning.

Enter Martino, Matilda, Galeazo, and Guard.
Mart.
Bring 'em forward;
This will make my peace, though I had kill'd his father,
Besides the reward that follows.

Lor.
Ha! Martino?
Where is Farneze's head? dost thou stare? and where
The soldier that desir'd the torture of him?

Mart.
An't please your Excellence—

Lor.
It doth not please us; are our commands obey'd?

Mart.
Farneze's head, sir,
Is a thing not worth your thought, the soldiers less sir:
I have brought your Highness such a head, a head
So well set on too, a fine head.

Lor.
Take that
[Strikes him]
For thy impertinence: what head, ye Rascal?

Mart.
My Lord, if they that bring such presents to you
Are thus rewarded, there are few will strive
To be near your Graces pleasures: but I know
You will repent your choler. Here's the head,
And now I draw the curtain, it hath a face too,
And such a face.

Lor.
Ha!

Mart.
View her all o're, my Lord;
My company on't, she's sound of wind and limb,
And will do her labour tightly, a Bona Roba:
And for her face, as I said, there are five hundred
City-dub'd Madams in the Dukedom, that would part with
Their Jointures to have such another: Hold up your head, Maid.

Lor.
Of what age is the day?

Mart.
Sir, since Sun-rising about two hours:

Lor.
Thou lyest; the Sun of Beauty
In modest blushes on her cheeks, but now
Appear'd to me, and in her tears breaks forth
As through a shower in April, every drop
An orient pearl, which as it fals, congeal'd,
Were Ear-rings for the Catholick King,
Worn on his birth-day.

Mart.
Here's a sudden change.

Lor.
Incensed Cupid, whom even now I scorn'd,
Hath took his stand, and by reflexion shines
(As if he had two bodies, or indeed
A brother-twin, whom sight cannot distinguish)
In her fair eyes; see how they head their arrows
With her bright beams, now frown, as if my heart
Rebellious to their edicts, were unworthy,
Should I rip up my bosom, to receive
A wound from such divine artillery.

Mart.
I am made for ever.

Mat.
We are lost, dear servant.

Gal.
Vertue's but a word; Fortune rules all.

Mat.
We are her Tennis-balls.

Lor.
Allow her fair, her symetrie and features
So well proportion'd, as the heavenly object
With admiration would strike Ovid dumb,
Nay force him to forget his faculty
In verse, and celebrate her praise in prose.
What's this to me? I that have pass'd my youth
Unscorch'd with wanton fires, my sole delight
In glittering arms, my conquering sword my mistress;
Neighing of barbed horse, the cries and groans
Of vanquish'd foes suing for life, my musick:
And shall I in the Autumn of my age,
Now when I wear the livery of time
Upon my head and beard, suffer my self
To be transform'd, and like a puling Lover
With arms thus folded up, eccho Ay me's!
And write my self a Bondman to my Vassal?
It must not, nay it shall not be: Remove
The object, and the effect dies. Nearer, Martino.

Mart.
I shall have a Regiment, Colonel Martino,
I cannot go less.

Lor.
What thing is this thou hast brought me?

Mart.
What thing? Heaven bless me, are you a Florentine?
Nay, the Great Duke of Florentines, and having had her
So long in your power, do you now ask what she is?
Take her aside and learn; I have brought you that
I look to be dearly paid for.

Lor.
I am a Soldier; and use of women will, Martino, rob
My nerves of strength.

Mart.
All armor, and no smock?
Abominable! A little of the one with the other
Is excellent: I ne'r knew General yet,
Nor Prince that did deserve to be a Worthy,
But he desir'd to have his sweat wash'd off
By a juicie Bedfellow.

Lor.
But say she be unwilling to do that office?

Mart.
Wrastle with her, I will wager
Ten to one on your Graces side.

Lor.
Slave, hast thou brought me
Temptation in a Beauty not to be
With prayers resisted; and in place of councel
To master my affections, and to guard
My honor now besieg'd by lust, with the arms
Of sober temperance, mark me out a way
To be a ravisher? Would thou hadst shewn me
Some monster, though in a more ugly form
Then Nile or Africk ever bred. The Basilisk
(Whose envious eye yet never brook'd a neighbour)
Kills but the body; Her more potent eye
Buries alive mine honor: shall I yield thus?
And all brave thoughts of victory and triumphs,
The spoils of Nations, the loud applauses
Of happy subjects made so by my conquests;
And what's the crown of all, a glorious name
Insculp'd on Pyramids to posterity,
Be drench'd in Lethe, and no object take me
But a weak Woman, rich in colours only,
Too delicate a touch, and some rare features
Which age or sudden sickness will take from her,
And where's then the reward of all my service?
Love-soothing passions, nay idolatry
I must pay to her. Hence, and with thee take
This second, but more dangerous Pandora,
Whose fatal box, if open'd, will pour on me
All mischiefs that mankind is subject to.
To the desarts with this Circe, this Calipso,
This fair Inchantress; let her spels and charms
Work upon beasts and thee, then whom wise nature
Ne'r made a viler creature.

Mat.
Happy exile!

Gal.
Some spark of hope remains yet.

Mart.
Come, you are mine now;
I will remove her where your Highness shall not
Or see or hear more of her: what a sum
Will she yield for the Turks Serraglio?

Lor.
Stay, I feel
A sudden alteration.

Mart.
Here are fine whimsies.

Lor.
Why should I part with her? can any foulness
Inhabit such a clean and gorgeous palace?
The fish, the fowl, the beasts may safer leave
The elements they were nourish'd in, and live,
Then I endure her absence; yet her presence
Is a torment to me: Why do I call it so?
My sire enjoy'd a woman, I had not been else;
He was a compleat Prince, and shall I blush
To follow his example? Oh but my choice,
Though she gave suffrage to it, is beneath me:
But even now in my proud thoughts I scorn'd
A Princess, fair Matilda; and is't decreed
For punishment, I straight must dote on one
What, or from whence I know not? Grant she be
Obscure, without a Coat or family,
Those I can give; and yet if she were noble,
My fondness were more pardonable. Martino,
Dost thou know thy prisoner?

Mart.
Do I know my self?
I kept that for the Lenvoy; 'tis the daughter
Of your enemy, Duke Gonzaga.

Lor.
Fair Matilda! I now call to my memory her picture,
And find this is the substance; but her Painter
Did her much wrong, I see it.

Mart.
I am sure
I tugg'd hard for her, here are wounds can witness,
Before I could call her mine.

Lor.
No matter how:
Make thine own ransom, I will pay it for her.

Mart.
I knew it would come at last.

Mat.
We are lost again.

Gal.
Variety of afflictions!

Lor.
That his knee that never yet bow'd to mortality,
[Kneels]
Kisses the earth, happy to bear your weight,
I know begets your wonder. Hear the reason,
And cast it off. Your beauty does command it:
Till now I never saw you; fame hath been
Too sparing in report of your perfections,
Which now with admiration I gaze on.
Be not afraid, fair Virgin; had you been
Imploy'd to mediate your Fathers cause,
My drum had been unbrac'd, my trumpet hung up,
Nor had the terror of the war ere frighted
His peaceful confines; your demands had been
As soon as spoke, agreed to. But you'll answer,
And may with reason; Words make no satisfaction
For what's in fact committed. Yet take comfort,
Something my pious love commands me do,
Which may call down your pardon.

Mat.
This expression
Of reverence to your person, better suits
Takes him up, and kneels.
With my low fortune. That you daign to love me,
My weakness would perswade me to believe
(Though conscious of mine own unworthiness)
You being as the liberal eye of heaven
Which may shine where it pleases: Let your beams
Of favour warm and comfort me, not consume me;
For should your love grow to excess, I dare not
Deliver what I fear.

Lor.
Dry your fair eyes;
I apprehend your doubts, and could be angry
If humble love could warrant it, you should
Nourish such base thoughts of me: Heaven bear witness,
And if I break my vow, dart thunder at me,
You are and shall be in my tent as free
From fear of violence, as a cloyster'd Nun
Kneeling before the Altar. What I purpose
Is yet an Embrion; but grown into form,
I'll give you power to be the sweet disposer
Of blessings unexpected; that your Father,
Your Country, people, children yet unborn too,
In holy hymns of Festivals shall sing
The triumph of your beauty. On your hand
Once more I swear it: O imperious Love!
Look down, and as I truly do repent,
Prosper the good ends of thy Penitent.

Exeunt.
Enter Octavio and Maria.
Oct.
You must not be too sudden, my Maria,
In being known: I am in this Friars habit
As yet conceal'd; though his recovery
Be almost certain, I must work him to
Repentance by degrees. When I would have you
Appear in your true shape of sorrow to
Move his compassion, I will stamp thus, then
You know to act your part.

Asc.
I shall be careful.

Oct.
If I can cure the ulcers of his mind,
As I despair not of his bodies wounds,
Felicity crowns my labour. Gothrio!

Goth.
Here sir.

[Ent. Gothrio]
Oct.
Desire my Patients to leave their chamber,
And take fresh air here: how have they slept?

Goth.
Very well sir,
I would we were so rid of 'em.

Oct.
Why?

Goth.
I fear one hath the art of memory, and will
Remember his gold and jewels: could you not minister
A potion of forgetfulness? what would Gallants
That are in debt, give me for such a receipt
To pour in their Creditors drink?

Oct.
You shall restore all,
Believ't you shall: will you please to walk?

Goth.
Will you please to put off
Your holy habit, and spic'd conscience? One
I think infects the other.

Exit.
Oct.
I have observ'd
Compunction in Alonzo; he speaks little,
But full of retir'd thoughts: The other is
Jocund and merry, no doubt, because he hath
The less accompt to make here.

Enter Alonzo:
Alon.
Reverend sir,
I come to wait your pleasure; but my friend
(Your creature I should say, being so my self)
Willing to take farther repose, intreats
Your patience a few minutes.

Oct.
At his pleasure; pray you sit down, you are faint still.

Alon.
Growing to strength,
I thank your goodness: but my mind is troubled,
Very much troubled, sir; and I desire,
Your pious habit giving me assurance
Of your skill and power that way, that you would please
To be my my Minds physitian.

Oct.
Sir, to that
My order binds me, if you please to unload
The burthen of your conscience, I will minister
Such heavenly cordials as I can, and set you
In a path that leads to comfort.

Alon.
I will open
My bosoms secrets to you; that I am
A man of blood, being brought up in the wars,
And cruel executions, my profession
Admits not to be question'd: but in that
Being a subject, and bound to obey
Whate'r my Prince commanded, I have left
Some shadow of excuse: with other crimes
As pride, lust, gluttony, it must be told
I am besmear'd all over.

Oct.
On repentance mercy will wash it off.

Alon.
O sir, I grant
These sins are deadly ones; yet their frequencie
With wicked men, make them less dreadful to us.
But I am conscious of one crime, with which
All ills I have committed from my youth
Put in the scale weigh nothing: such a crime,
So odious to heaven and man, and to
My sear'd up conscience so full of horror,
As penance cannot expiate.

Oct.
Despair not,
'Tis impious in man to prescribe limits
To the divine compassion; out with it.

Alonz.

Oct.
Perhaps she gave you just cause to break those vows.

Alon.
She cause! alas
Her innocence knew no guilt, but too much favor
To me unworthy of it: 'twas my baseness,
My foul ingratitude, what shall I say more?
The good Octavio no sooner fell
In the displeasure of his Prince, his state
Confiscated, and he forc'd to leave the Court,
And she expos'd to want; but all my oaths
And protestation of service to her,
Like seeming flames rais'd by inchantment, vanish'd;
This, this sits heavy here.

Oct.
He speaks as if
He were acquainted with my plot: You have reason
To feel compunction, for 'twas most inhumane
So to betray a Maid.

Alon.
Most barbarous.

Oct.
But does your sorrow for the fact beget
An aptness in you to make satisfaction
For the wrong you did her?

Alon.
Gracious heaven! an aptness!
It is my only study; since I tasted
Of your compassion, these eyes ne'r were clos'd,
But fearful dreams cut off my little sleep,
And being awake in my imagination,
Her apparition haunted me.

Oct.
'Twas meer fancie.

[He stamps]
Alon.
'Twas more, grave sir, nay 'tis,
Now it appears.

[Ent. Maria]
Oct.
Where?

Alon.
Do you not see there the gliding shadow
Of a fair Virgin? that is she, and wears
The very garments that adorn'd her when
She yielded to my Crocodile tears: A cloud
Of fears and diffidence then so chac'd away
Her purer white and red, as it foretold
That I should be disloyal. Blessed shadow!
For 'twere a sin, far, far exceeding all
I have committed, to hope only that
Thou art a substance: look on my true sorrow,
Nay, souls contrition; hear again those vows
My perjury cancell'd, stamp'd in brass, and never
To be worn out.

[Ent. Gothrio]
Asc.
I can endure no more;
Action, not oaths must make me reparation:
I am Maria.

Alon.
Can this be?

Oct.
It is, and I Octavio.

Alon.
Wonder on wonder!
How shall I look on you? or with what forehead
Desire your pardon?

Asc.
You truly shall deserve it
In being constant.

Oct.
If you fall not off,
But look on her in poverty with those eyes
As when she was my heir in expectation
You thought her beautiful.

Alon.
She's in herself both Indies to me.

Goth.
Stay, she shall not come
A begger to you, my sweet young Mistress! no,
She shall not want a dower: here's white and red
Will ask a jointure; but how you should make her one,
Being a Captain, would beget some doubt,
If you should deal with a Lawyer.

Alon.
I have seen this purse.

Goth.
How the worl'ds given, I dare not say to lying,
Because you are a Soldier; you may say as well
This gold is mark'd too: you being to receive it,
Should ne'r ask how I got it. I'll run for a Priest
To dispatch the matter; you shall not want a Ring,
I have one for the purpose. Now sir, I think I am honest.

Exit.
Alon.
This Ring was Pisano's.

Oct.
I'll dissolve this riddle at better leisure:
The wound given to my daughter, which in your honor
You are bound to cure, exacts our present care.

Alon.
I am all yours sir.

Exeunt.
Enter Gonzaga, Uberti, Manfroy.
Gonz.
Thou hast told too much to give assurance that
Her honor was too far engag'd to be
By humane help redeem'd: If thou hadst given
Thy sad narration this full period,
She's dead; I had been happy.

Uber.
Sir, these tears
Do well become a father; and my eyes
Would keep you company as a forlorn Lover,
But that the burning fire of my revenge
Dries up those drops of sorrow. We once more,
Our broken forces rallied up, and with
Full numbers strengthen'd, stand prepar'd to endure
A second trial; nor let it dismay us
That we are once again to affront the fury
Of a victorious Army; their abuse
Of Conquest hath disarm'd themselves, and call'd down
The powers above to aid us. I have read
Some piece of story, yet ne'r found but that
The General that gave way to cruelty,
The profanation of things sacred, rapes
Of virgins, butchery of infants, and
The massacre in cold blood of reverend age,
Against the discipline and law of Arms,
Did feel the hand of heaven lie heavy on him,
When most secure: We have had a late example,
And let us not despair but that in Lorenzo
It will be seconded.

Gonz.
You argue well,
And 'twere a sin in me to contradict you:
Yet we must not neglect the means that's lent us
To be the Ministers of Justice.

Uber.
No, sir: One day given to refresh our wearied Troops
Tir'd with a tedious march, we'll be no longer
Coop'd up, but charge the Enemy in his trenches,
And force him to a battel.

[Shouts within]
Gonz.
Ha! how's this?
In such a general time of mourning, shouts
And acclamations of joy?
Long live the Princess! long live Matilda!

Within they cry
Uber.
Matilda! the Princess name, Matilda, oft re-eccho'd.

Enter Farneze.
Gonz.
What speaks thy haste?

Far.
More joy and happiness
Then weak words can deliver, or strong faith
Almost give credit to: The Princess lives,
I saw her, kist her hand.

Gonz.
By whom deliver'd?

Far.
That is not to be stall'd by my report,
This only must be told: As I rode forth
With some choise troops to make discovery
Where the Enemy lay, and how intrench'd; a Leader
Of th'adverse party, but unarm'd, and in
His hand an Olive-branch, encounter'd me;
He shew'd the great Dukes seal that gave him power
To parly with me: his desires were, that
Assurance for his safety might be granted
To his royal Master, who came as a friend
(And not as an enemy) to offer to you
Conditions of peace. I yielded to it.
This being return'd, the Dukes Pretorum open'd;
When suddenly in a triumphant Chariot
Drawn by such soldiers of his own as were
For insolence after victory condemn'd
Unto this slavish office, the fair Princess
Appear'd, a wreath of Laurel on her head,
Her robes majestical, their richness far
Above all value, as the present age
Contended that a womans pomp should dim
The glittering triumphs of the Roman Cæsars.
I am cut off; no Canons throat now thunders,
Nor Fife nor Drum beat up a charge; choise Musique
Ushers the parent of security, long absent Peace.

Manf.
I know not what to think on't.

Uber.
May it poise the expectation!

Enter Soldiers (unarm'd, with olive-branches) Captains; Lorenzo, Galeazo, Martino, Matilda (a wreath of laurel on her head, in her chariot drawn through them.)
Gonz.
Thus to meet you
Great Duke of Tuscany, throws amazement on me:
But to behold my daughter, long since mourn'd for,
And lost even to my hopes, thus honour'd by you,
With an excess of comfort overwhelms me:
And yet I cannot truly call my self
Happy in this solemnity, till your Highness
Vouchsafe to make me understand the motives
That in this peaceful way hath brought you to us.

Lor.
I must crave licence first; for know, Gonzaga,
I am subject to anothers will, and can
Nor speak nor do without permission from her:
My curled forehead, of late terrible
To those that did acknowledge me their Lord,
While Lor. speaks, Uberti and the rest present themselves to Matilda.
Is now as smooth as rivers when no wind stirs:
My frowns or smiles, that kill'd or sav'd, have lost
Their potent awe, and sweetness: I am transform'd
(But do not scorn the Metamorphosis)
From that fierce thing men held me; I am captiv'd,
And by the unresistable force of beauty
Led hither as a prisoner. Is't your pleasure that
I shall deliver those injunctions which
Your absolute command impos'd upon me,
Or daign your self to speak 'em?

Mat.
Sir, I am
Your property, you may use me as you please;
But what is in your power and breast to do,
No Orator can dilate so well.

Lor.
I obey you. That I came hither as an enemy
With hostile arms, to the utter ruine of
Your Country, what I have done, makes apparent:
That fortune seconded my will, the late
Defeature will make good: That I resolv'd
To force the scepter from your hand, and make
Your Dukedom tributary, my surprizal
Of Mantua your Metropolis can well witness:
And that I cannot fear the change of fate,
My Army flesh'd in blood, spoil, glory, conquest
Stand ready to maintain: Yet I must tell you
By whom I am subdu'd, and what's the ransom
I am commanded to lay down.

Gonz:
My Lord, you humble your self too much, 'tis fitter
You should propose, and we consent.

Lor.
Forbear,
The articles are here subscrib'd and sign'd
By my obedient hand: All prisoners
Without a ransom set at liberty,
Mantua to be deliver'd up; the Rampires
Ruin'd in the assault, to be repair'd;
The loss the husbandman receiv'd, his crop
Burnt up by wanton licence of the soldier
To be made good; with whatsoever else
You could impose on me, if you had been
The Conqueror, I your Captive.

Gonz.
Such a change wants an example: I must owe this favour
To the clemencie of the old Heroique valour,
That spar'd when it had power to kill; a vertue
Buried long since, but rais'd out of the grave
By you to grace this latter age.

Lor.
Mistake not
The cause that did produce this good effect,
If as such you receive it: 'twas her beauty
Wrought first on my rough nature; but the vertnes
Of her fair soul, dilated in her converse,
That did confirm it.

Mat.
Mighty sir, no more;
You honor her too much, that is not worthy
To be your servant.

Lor.
I have done, and now
Would gladly understand that you allow of
The articles propounded.

Gonz.
Do not wrong
Your benefits with such a doubt; they are
So great and high, and with such reverence
To be receiv'd, that if I should profess
I hold my Dukedom from you as your vassal,
Or offer'd up my daughter as you please
To be dispos'd of, in the point of honor
And a becoming gratitude, 'twould not cancel
The bond I stand engag'd for: but accept
Of that which I can pay, my all is yours sir,
Nor is there any here (though I must grant
Some have deserv'd much from me) for so far
I dare presume, but will surrender up
Their interest to that your Highness shall
Daign to pretend a title.

Uber.
I subscribe not to this condition.

Far.
The services
This Prince hath done your Grace in your most danger,
Are not to be so slighted.

Gal.
'Tis far from me
To urge my merits, yet I must maintain
Howe'r my power is less, my love is more,
Nor will the gracious Princess scorn to acknowledge
I have been her humble servant.

Lor.
Smooth your brows,
I'll not incroach upon your right, for that were
Once more to force affection (a crime
With which should I the second time be tainted,
I did deserve no favour) neither will I
Make use of what is offer'd by the Duke,
Howe'r I thank his goodness: I'll lay by
My power; and though I should not brook a Rival,
(What we are, well consider'd) I'll descend
To be a third Competitor; he that can
With love and service best deserve the garland,
With your consent let him wear it; I despair not
The trial of my fortune.

Gonz.
Bravely offer'd, and like your self, great Prince.

Uber.
I must profess
I am so taken with it, that I know not
Which way to express my service.

Gal.
Did I not build
Upon the Princess grace, I could sit down,
And hold it no dishonor.

Mat.
How I feel
My soul divided! all have deserv'd so well,
I know not where to fix my choice.

Gon.
You have
Time to consider: will you please to take
Possession of the Fort? then having tasted
The fruits of peace, you may at leisure prove
Whose plea will prosper in the Court of Love.

Exeunt.