University of Virginia Library

Act. 5.

Scæn. 1.

Enter Alonzo, Octavio, Pisano, Maria (with a purse) Gothrio.
Alon.
You need not doubt sir, were not peace proclaim'd
And celebrated with a general joy,
The high displeasure of the Mantuan Duke,
Rais'd on just grounds, not jealous suppositions.
The saving of our lives (which next to heaven
To you alone is proper) would force mercy
For an offence though capital.

Pisa.
When the Conqueror
Uses Intreaties, they are arm'd Commands
The vanquish'd must not check at.

Asc.
My piety pay the forfeit,
If danger come but near you. I have heard
My gracious Mistress often mention you,
(When I serv'd her as a Page) and feelingly
Relate how much the Duke her sire repented
His hasty doom of banishment, in his rage
Pronounc'd against you.

Oct.
In a private difference,
I grant that Innocence is a wall of brass,
And scorns the hottest battery: but when
The cause depends between the Prince and Subject,
'Tis an unequal competition; Justice
Must lay her ballance by, and use her sword
For his ends that protects it. I was banish'd,
And till revoked from exile, to tread on
My Soveraigns territories with forbidden feet,
The severe letter of the Law calls death,
Which I am subject to in coming so neer
His Court and person. But my onely Child
Being provided for, her honor salv'd too,
I thank your noble change, I shall endure
Whate'r can fall with patience.

Alonz.
You have us'd that medicine too long; prepare your self
For honor in your age, and rest secure of't.

Asc.
Of what is your wisdom musing?

Goth.
I am gazing on
This gorgeous House, our Cote's a dishclout to it;
It has no sign, what do you call't?

Asc.
The Court; I have liv'd in't a Page.

Goth.
Page! very pretty:
May I not be a Page? I am old enough,
Well timber'd too, and I have a beard to carry it:
Pray you let me be your Page, I can swear already
Upon your pantable.

Asc.
What?

Goth.
That I'll be true unto your smock.

Asc.
How, Rascal?

Oct.
Hence, and pimp
To your Rams and Ews; such foul pollution is
To be whipt from Court: I have now no more use of you,
Return to your trough.

Goth.
Must I feed on husks, before I have plaid the prodigal?

Oct.
No, I'll reward
Your service; live in your own element
Like an honest man; all that is mine in the cottage
I freely give you.

Goth.
Your Bottles too, that I carry for your own tooth?

Oct.
Full as they are.

Asc.
And gold, that will replenish 'em.

Goth.
I am made for ever, this was done in the nick.

Oct.
Why in the nick?

Goth.
O sir, 'twas well for me that you did reward my service
Before you enter'd the Court; for 'tis reported
There is a drink of Forgetfulness, which once tasted,
Few masters think of their servants, who grown old,
Are turn'd off like lame hounds and hunting-horses,
To starve on the Commons.

Alonz.
Bitter Knave! there's craft i'the clouted shoo. Captain!

Enter Martino.
Mart.
I am glad to kiss
Your valiant hand, and yours: but pray you take notice
My title's chang'd, I am a Colonel.

Pisa.
A Colonel! where's your Regiment?

Mart.
Not rais'd yet;
All the old ones are cashier'd, and we are now
To have a new Militia. All is peace here,
Yet I hold my title still, as many do
That never saw an Enemy.

Alonz.
You are pleasant,
And it becomes you. Is the Duke stirring?

Mar.
Long since,
Four hours at least, but yet not ready.

Pisa.
How?

Mart.
Even so; you make a wonder of't, but leave it:
Alas, he is not now (sir) in the Camp,
To be up and arm'd upon the least alarum;
There's something else to be thought on.
Here he comes, with his Officers, new rigg'd.

Enter Lorenzo, Doctor, Gent. Page (imployed about him as from his chamber.)
Alon.
A looking-glass!
Upon my head he saw not his own face
These seven years past, but by reflexion
From a bright armor.

Mart.
Be silent, and observe.

Lor.
So, have you done yet?
Is your building perfect?

Doct.
If your Highness please, here is a water.

Lor.
To what use? my Barber
Hath wash'd my face already.

Doct.
But this water
Hath a strange vertue in't, beyond his art;
It is a sacred Relique, part of that
Most powerful Juice, which with Medea made
Old Æson young.

Lor.
A fable; but suppose
I should give credit to it, will it work
The same effect on me?

Doct.
I'll undertake
This will restore the honour'd hair that grows
Upon your Highness head and chin, a little
Inclining unto gray.

Lor.
Inclining! Doctor.

Doct.
Pardon me, mighty sir, I went too far,
Not gray at all; I dare not flatter you,
'Tis something chang'd, but this apply'd will help it
To the first amber-colour, every hair
As fresh as when, your manhood in the prime,
Your Grace arriv'd at thirty.

Lor.
Very well.

Doct.
Then here's a pretious oil (to which the maker
Hath not yet given a name) will soon fill up
These dimples in your face and front. I grant
They are terrible to your enemies, and set off
Your frowns with majesty: but you may please
To know (as sure you do) a smooth aspect,
Softness and sweetness, in the Court of Love,
Though dumb, are the prevailing Orators.

Lor.
Will he new create me?

Doct.
If you daign to taste too
Of this Confection.

Lor.
I am in health, and need no physick.

Doct.
Physick sir! an Empress
(If that an Empress lungs, sir, may be tainted
With putrifaction) would taste of it
That night on which she were to print a kiss
Upon the lips of her long absent Lord,
Returning home with conquest.

Lor.
It is predominant
Over a stinking breath, is it not Doctor?

Doct.
Clothe the infirmity with sweeter language,
'Tis a preservative that way.

Lor.
You are then admitted to the Cabinets of great Ladies,
And have the government of the borrowed beauties,
Of such as write neer forty?

Doct.
True, my good Lord, and my attempts have prosper'd.

Lor.
Did you never minister to the Princess?

Doct.
Sir, not yet;
She's in the April of her youth, and needs not
The aids of art, my gracious Lord: but in
The Autumn of her age I may be useful,
And sworn her Highness Doctor, and your Grace partake
Of the delight.

Lor.
Slave! Witch! Impostor!
[Kicks him]
Mountebank! Cheater! Traitor to great Nature,
In thy presumption to repair what she
In her immutable decrees design'd
For some few years to grow up, and then wither
Or is't not crime enough thus to betray
The secrets of the weaker sex, thy patients,
But thou must make the honor of this age
And envy of the time to come, Matilda,
(Whose sacred name I bow to) guilty of
A future sin in thy ill-boding thoughts,
Which for a perpetuity of youth
And pleasure she disdains to act, such is
Her purity and innocencce?

His foot on the Doctors breast.
Alonz.
Long since I look'd for this Lenvoy.

Mart.
Would I were well off!
He's dangerous in these humours.

Oct.
Stand conceal'd.

Doct.
O sir, have mercy! in my thought I never
Offended you.

Lor.
Me? most of all, thou monster:
What a Mock-man property in thy intent
Wouldst thou have made me? a meer Pathick to
Thy devilish art, had I given suffrage to it.
Are my gray hairs, the ornament of age,
And held a blessing by the wisest men,
And for such warranted by holy Writ,
To be conceal'd, as if they were my shame?
Or plaister up these furrows in my face,
As if I were a painted Bawd or Whore?
By such base means if that I could ascend
To the height of all my hopes, their full fruition
Would not wipe off the scandal. No, thou wretch,
Thy cozening Water and adulterate Oil
I thus pour in thine eyes, and tread to dust
Thy loth'd Confection, with thy trumperies:
Vanish for ever.

Mart.
You have your fee, as I take it,
Dear Domine Doctor! I'll be no sharer with you.

Exit Doctor.
Lor.
I'll court her like my self; these rich adornments
And Jewels, worn by me an absolute Prince,
My Order too, of which I am the Soveraign,
Can meet no ill construction: yet 'tis far
From my imagination to believe
She can be taken with sublimed clay,
The Silk-worms spoils, or rich Embroderies;
Nor must I borrow helps from power or greatness,
But as a loyal Lover plead my cause,
If I can feelingly express my ardor,
And make her sensible of the much I suffer
In hopes and fears, and she vouchsafe to take
Compassion on me,—Ha! compassion?
The word sticks in my throat: what's here that tels me
I do descend too low? rebellious spirit,
I conjure thee to leave me: there is now
No contradiction or declining left,
I must and will go on.

Mart.
The tempest's laid; you may present your selves:

Alon.
My gracious Lord!

Pisa.
Your humble Vassal.

Lor.
Ha! both living?

Alon.
Sir, we owe our lives to this good Lord, and make it
Our humble suit—

Lor.
Plead for your selves: we stand
Yet unresolv'd whether your knees or prayers
Can save the forfeiture of your own heads:
Though we have put our armor off, your pardon
For leaving the Camp without our licence
Is not yet sign'd. At some more fit time wait us.

Ex. Lor. and Attendants.
Alon.
How's this?

Mart.
'Tis well it is no worse; I met with
A rougher entertainment, yet I had
Good cards to shew: He's parcel mad, you'll find him
Every hour in a several mood, this foolish Love
Is such a shuttlecock; but all will be well
When a better fit comes on him, never doubt it.

Exeunt.
Enter Gonzaga, Uberti, Farneze, Manfroy.
Gonz.
How do you find her?

Uber.
Thankful for my service,
And yet she gives me little hope; my Rival
Is too great for me.

Gonz.
The great Duke you mean.

Uber.
Who else? the Millanois (although he be
A compleat Gentleman) I am sure despairs more then my self.

Far.
A high estate, with women,
Takes place of all desert.

Uber.
I must stand my fortune.

Enter Lorenzo and Attendants.
Manf.
The Duke of Florence! sir.

Gonz.
Your Highness presence
Answers my wish. Your private ear:—I have us'd
My best perswasion with a Fathers power
To work my daughter to your ends; yet she
Like a small Bark on a tempestuous sea
Toss'd here and there by opposite winds, resolves not
At which port to put in, this Prince's merits,
Your grace and favor; nor is she unmindful
Of the brave acts (under your pardon sir
I needs must call them so) Hortensio
Hath done to gain her good opinion of him:
All these together tumbling in her fancie,
Do much distract her; I have spies upon her,
And am assur'd this instant hour she gives
Hortensio private audience; I will bring you
Where we will see and hear all.

Lor.
You oblige me.

Uber.
I do not like this whispering.

Gonz.
Fear no foul play.

Exeunt.
Enter Galeazo, and two Waiting-women.
1 Wo.
The Princess, sir, long since expected you;
And would I beg a thanks, I could tell you that
I have often mov'd her for you.

Gal.
I am your servant.

Enter Matilda.
Beat.
She's come; there are others I must place to hear
The conference.

Exit.
1 Wo.
Is't your Excellencies pleasure that we attend you?

Mat.
No, wait me in the gallery.

1 Wo.
Would each of us, Wench, had a Sweetheart too!
To pass away the time:

2 Wo.
There I join with you.

Ex. Waiting-women.
Mat.
I fear this is the last time we shall meet.

Gal.
Heaven forbid!

Enter (above) Beatrix, Lorenzo, Gonzaga, Uberti, Farneze.
Mat.
O my Hortensio!
In me behold the misery of Greatness,
And that which you call Beauty: had I been
Of a more low condition, I might
Have call'd my will and faculties mine own,
Not seeing that which was to be belov'd
With others eyes: But now, ay me, most wretched
And miserable Princess! in my fortune
To be too much engag'd for service done me,
It being impossible to make satisfaction
To my so many Creditors, (all deserving)
I can keep touch with none.

Lor.
A sad Exordiam.

Mat.
You lov'd me long, and without hope, (alas,
I die to think on't!) Parma's Prince invited
With a too partial report of what
I was, and might be to him, left his Country
To fight in my defence. Your brave atchievements
I'the war, and what you did for me, unspoken,
(Because I would not force the sweetness of
Your modesty to a blush) are written here.
And that there might be nothing wanting to
Sum up my numerous engagements (never
In my hopes to be cancell'd) the great Duke
Our mortal enemy, when my Fathers Country
Lay open to his fury, and the spoil
Of the victorious Army, and I brought
Into his power, hath shewn himself so
Noble, so full of honor, temperance,
And all vertues that can set off a Prince,
That though I cannot render him that respect
I would, I am bound in thankfulness to admire him.

Gal.
'Tis acknowledg'd, and on your part to be return'd.

Mat.
How can I,
Without the brand of foul ingratitude
To you, and Prince Uberti?

Gal.
Hear me, Madam,
And what your servant shall with zeal deliver,
As a Dedalean clew may guide you out of
This labyrinth of distraction. He that loves
His Mistress truly, should prefer her honor
And peace of mind, above the glutting of
His ravenous appetite: He should affect from her,
But with a fit restraint, and not take her
To give himself: He should make it the heigth
Of his ambition, if it lie in
His stretch'd out nerves to effect it, though she flie in
An eminent place, to add strength to her wings,
And mount her higher, though he fall himself
Into the bottomless Abyss; or else
The services he offers are not real,
But counterfeit.

Mat.
What can Hortensio infer from this?

Gal.
That I stand bound in duty
(Though in the act I take my last farewell
Of comfort in this life) to sit down willingly,
And move my suit no further. I confess,
While you were in danger, and Heavens mercy made me
Its instrument to preserve you, (which your goodness
Priz'd far above the merit) I was bold
To feed my starv'd affection with false hopes
I might be worthy of you: For know, Madam,
How mean soever I appear'd in Mantua,
I had in expectation a fortune,
Though not possess'd of't, that encourag'd me
With confidence to prefer my suit, and not
To fear the Prince Uberti as my Rival.

Gonz:
I ever thought him more then what he seem'd.

Lor.
Pray you forbear.

Gal.
But when the Duke of Florence
Put in his plea, in my consideration
Weighing well what he is, as you must grant him,
A Mars of men in Arms; and those put off,
The great example for a Kingly Courtier
To imitate: Annex to these his wealth,
Of such a large extent, as other Monarchs
Call him the King of Coin; and what's above all.
His lawful love, with all the happiness
This life can fancie, from him flowing to you;
The true affection which I have ever borne you,
Does not alone command me to desist,
But as a faithful Councellor to advise you
To meet and welcom that felicity
Which hastes to crown your vertues.

Mat.
We must break off this parley,
Something I have to say.

[Exe. above]
Mat.
In tears I thank
Your care of my advancement; but I dare not
Follow your councel: Shall such piety
Pass unrewarded? such a pure affection,
For any ends of mine, be undervalu'd?
Avert it Heaven! I will be thy Matilda,
Or cease to be; No other heat but what
Glows from thy purest flames, shal warm this bosom;
Nor Florence, nor all Monarchs of the earth
Shall keep thee from me.

Enter Lorenzo, Gonzaga, Uberti, Farneze, Manfroy, two Waiting-women.
Gal.
I fear, gracious Lady,
Our conference hath been oreheard.

Mat.
The better:
Your part is acted; give me leave at distance
To zanie it, sir, on my knees thus prostrate
Before your feet.

Lor.
This must not be, I shall
Both wrong my self and you in suffering it.

Mat.
I will grow here, and weeping thus turn marble,
Unless you hear and grant the first petition
A virgin, and a Princess ever tendred:
Nor doth the suit concern poor me alone,
It hath a strong reference to you
And to your honor; and if you deny it,
Both ways you suffer. Remember, sir, you were not
Born only for your self; Heavens liberal hand
Design'd you to command a potent Nation,
Gave you heroick valour, which you have
Abus'd in making unjust war upon
A neighbour Prince, a Christian; while the Turk,
Whose scourge and terror you should be, securely
Wastes the Italian Confines: 'tis in you
To force him to pull in his horned Crescents,
And 'tis expected from you.

Lor.
I have been in a dream, and now begin to wake.

Mat.
And will you forbear to reap the harvest of such glories,
Now ripe and at full growth, for the embraces
Of a slight woman? or exchange your triumphs
For chamber-pleasures? melt your able nerves
(That should with your victorious sword make way
Through the Armies of your Enemies) in loose
And wanton dalliance? Be your self, great sir,
The thunderbolt of war, and scorn to sever
Two hearts long since united: your example
May teach the Prince Uberti to subscribe
To that which you allow of.

Lor.
The same tongue
That charm'd my sword out of my hand, and threw
A frozen numness on my active spirit,
Hath dis-enchanted me. Rise, fairest Princess!
And that it may appear I do receive
Your councel as inspir'd from heaven, I will
Obey and follow it: I am your debtor,
And must confess you have lent my weakned reason
New strengths once more to hold a full command
Over my passions. Here to the world
I freely do profess that I disclaim
All interest in you, and give up my title
Such as it is, to you sir; and as far
As I have power, thus join your hands.

Gonz.
To yours I add my full consent.

Uber.
I am lost, Farneze.

Far.
Neerer to the port then you suppose:
In me our laws speak, and forbid this contract.

Mat.
Ay me! new stops!

Gal.
Shall we be ever cross'd thus?

Far.
There is an Act upon record, confirm'd
By your wise predecessors, that no Heir
Of Mantua (as questionless the Princess
Is the undoubted one) must be join'd in marriage,
But where the match may strengthen the estate
And safety of the Dukedom. Now this Gentleman,
However I must stile him honorable,
And of a high desert, having no power
To make this good in his alliance, stands
Excluded by our laws: whereas this Prince
Of equal merit, brings to Mantua
The power and Principality of Parma:
And therefore since the great Duke hath let fall
His plea, there lives no Prince that justlier can
Challenge the Princess favor.

Lor.
Is this true, sir?

Gonz.
I cannot contradict it.

Enter Manfroy.
Manf.
There's an Ambassador
From Milain, that desires a present audience;
His business is of highest consequence,
As he affirms: I know him for a man
Of the best rank and quality.

Gal.
From Milain?

Gonz.
Admit him.—How? so low!

Enter Ambassador, and Julio with a Letter, which he presents on his knee to Galeazo.
Amb.
I am sorry, sir, to be the bringer of this heavy news:
But since it must be known—

Gal.
Peace rest with him,
I shall find fitter time to mourn his loss.
My faithful servant too, Julio!

Jul.
I am orejoy'd to see your Highness safe.

Gal.
Pray you peruse this,
And there you'll find that the objection
The Lord Farneze made, is fully answer'd.

Gonz.
The great John Galeas dead?

Lor.
And this his brother, the absolute Lord of Milain.

Mat.
I am reviv'd.

Uber.
There's no contending against destiny,
I wish both happiness.

Enter Alonzo, Maria, Octavio, Pisano, Martino.
Lor.
Married, Alonzo? I will salute your Lady, she's a fair one,
And seal your pardon on her lips.

Gonz.
Octavio, welcom even to my heart! Rise, I should kneel
To thee for mercy.

Oct:
The poor remainder of
My age shall truly serve you.

Mat.
You resemble a Page I had, Ascanio.

Asc.
I am your Highness servant still.

Lor.
All stand amaz'd
At this unlook'd for meeting: But defer
Your several stories. Fortune here hath shewn
Her various power; but Vertue in the end
Is crown'd with laurel: Love hath done his parts too;
And mutual friendship after bloody jars,
Will cure the wounds received in our wars.

Exeunt omnes.