 | Cupid's Revenge |  |
Actus Tertii.
Scæna Prima.
Enter Dorialus, Agenor, Nisus.Nisus.
Is not this a fine marriage?
Agenor.
Yes, yes, let it alone.
Dor.
I, I, the King may marry whom's list, let's talk of
other matters.
Nis.
Is the Prince coming home certainly?
Dor.
Yes, yes, he was sent post for yesterday, lets make
haste we'll see how his new Mother-in-law will entertain
him.
Nis.
Why well I warrant you: did you not mark how
humbly she carried her self to us on her marriage day, acknowledging
her own unworthiness, and that she would
be our servant.
Dor.
But mark what's done.
Nis.
Regard not shew.
Age.
O God! I knew her when I have been off'red her
to be brought to my bed for five pounds: whether it could
have been perform'd or no, I know not.
Nis.
Her Daughters a pretty Lady.
Dor.
Yes: and having had but mean bringing up, it talks
the pretilest and innocentliest, the Queen will be so angry
to hear her betray her breeding by her language: but I
am perswaded she's well dispos'd.
Agenor.
I think better than her Mother.
Nis.
Come, we stay too long.
Exeunt.
Enter Leucippus, and Ismenus.
Isme.
How now man, strook dead with a tale?
Leu.
No, but with a truth.
Isme.
Stand off your self: can you endure blows, and
shrink at words?
Leu.
Thou knowst I have told thee all.
But that all's nothing to make you thus: your
Sisters dead.
Leu.
That's much, but not the most.
Isme.
Why, for the other let her marry and hang, 'tis
no purpos'd fault of yours: and if your Father will needs
have your cast Whore, you shall shew the duty of a child
better in being contented, and bidding much good doe
his good old heart with her, than in repining thus at it;
let her go: what, there are more wenches man, we'll
have another.
Leu.
O thou art vain, thou knowst I doe not love her:
What shall I doe? I would my tongue had led me
To any other thing, but blasphemy,
So I had mist commending of this woman,
Whom I must reverence now: she is my Mother,
My sin Ismenus has wrought all this ill:
And I beseech thee, to be warn'd by me,
And doe not lye, if any man should aske thee
But How thou dost, or What a clock 'tis now.
Be sure thou doe not lye, make no excuse
For him that is most near thee: never let
The most officious falsehood scape thy tongue,
For they above (that are intirely truth)
Will make that seed, which thou hast sown of lyes,
Yield miseries a thousand sold
Upon thine head, as they have done on mine.
Enter Timantus.
Tim.
Sir, your Highness is welcome home, the Duke and
Queen will presently come forth to you.
Leu.
I'll wait on them.
Tima.
Worthy Ismenus, I pray you, have you sped in
your wars?
Isme.
This Rogue mocks me. Well Timantus, Pray how
have you sped here at whom at shovelboord?
Tim.
Faith reasonable. How many Towns have you taken
in this Summer?
Isme.
How many Stags have you been at the death of
this grass?
Tima.
A number: 'Pray how is the Province settled?
Isme.
Prethee how does the dun Nag?
Tim.
I think you mock me my Lord.
Isme.
Mock thee? Yes by my troth doe I: why what
wouldst thou have me doe with thee; Art good for any
thing else?
Enter Leontius, Bacha, Dorialus, Agenor, Nisus, Telamon.
Leu.
My good Ismenus, hold me by the wrist:
And if thou see'st me fainting, wring me hard,
For I shall swoon again else—
Kneels.
Leon.
Welcome my son; rise, I did send for thee
Back from the province, by thy Mothers counsell,
Thy good Mother here, who loves thee well:
She would not let me venture all my joy
Amongst my enemies: I thank thee for her,
And none but thee. I took her on thy word.
Leucip.
Pinch harder.
Leon.
And she shall bid thee welcome: I have now
Some near affairs, but I will drink a Health
To thee anon: Come Telamon, I am grown
Lustier, I thank thee for't, since I marryed;
I can stand now alone, why Telamon,
And never stagger.
Exit Leontius, Telamon.
Bac.
Welcome most noble Sir, whose fame is come
Hither before you: out alas you scorn me,
And teach me what to doe.
Leu.
No, you are my Mother.
Bacha.
Far unworthy of that name God knows:
But trust me, here before these Lords,
I am no more but Nurse unto the Duke;
Nor will I breed a faction in the State,
It is too much for me that I am rais'd
Unto his bed, and will remain the servant
Of you that did it.
Leu.
Madam I will serve you
As shall become me. O dissembling woman!
Whom I must reverence though. Take from thy quiver,
Sure-aim'd Apollo; one of thy swift darts,
Headed with thy consuming golden beams,
And let it melt this body into mist,
That none may find it.
Bac.
Shall I beg my Lords
This Room in private for the Prince and me?
Exeunt all but Leu. and Bach.
Leu.
What will she say now?
Bach.
I must still enjoy him:
Yet there is still left in me a spark of woman,
That wishes he should move it, but he stands,
As if he grew there with his eyes on earth,
Sir, you and I when we were last together
Kept not this distance as we were afraid
Of blasting by our selves.
Leu.
Madam 'tis true, Heaven pardon it.
Bach.
Amen Sir.
You may think that I have done you wrong in this strange marriage.
Leu.
'Tis past now.
Bach.
But it was no fault of mine:
The world had call'd me mad, had I refus'd
The King: nor layd I any train to catch him,
It was your own Oaths did it.
Leu.
'Tis a truth: that takes my sleep away, but
Would to Heaven, if it had so been pleas'd, you had
Refus'd him, though I had gratifi'd that courtesie
With having you my self: But since 'tis thus,
I doe beseech you that you will be honest
From henceforth; and not abuse his credulous Age,
Which you may easily doe. As for my self
What I can say, you know alas too well
Is ty'd within me, here it will fit like lead,
But shall offend no other, it will pluck me
Back from my ent'rance into any mirth,
As if a servant came, and whisper'd with me
Of some friends death, but I will bear my self,
To you, with all the due obedience
A son owes to a Mother: more than this,
Is not in me, but I must leave the rest to the
Just gods: who in their blessed time,
When they have given me punishment enough,
For my rash Sin, will mercifully find
As unexpected means to ease my grief
As they did now to bring it.
Bac.
Grown so godly? this must not be.
And I will be to you, no other than a natural Mother ought;
And for my honesty, so you will swear
Never to urge me, I shall keep it safe from any other.
Leu.
Bless me I should urge you?
Bacha.
Nay but swear then that I may be at peace,
For I doe feel a weakness in my self.
That can denie you nothing, if you tempt me,
I shall embrace Sin as it were a friend, and run to meet it.
Leu.
If you knew how far
It were from me, you would not urge an Oath.
But for your satisfaction, when I tempt you.
Bac.
Swear not: I cannot move him, this sad talk
Of things past help, does not become us well.
Shall I send one for my Musicians, and we'll dance?
Leu.
Dance Madam?
Bac.
Yes, Alaualta.
Leu.
I cannot dance Madam.
Bac.
Then lets be merry.
I am as you my Fortunes bid me.
Do not you see me sowr?
Bac.
Yes.
And why think you I smile?
Leu.
I am so far from any joy my self,
I cannot fancie a cause of mirth.
Bac.
I'll tell you, we are alone:
Leu.
Alone?
Bac.
Yes.
Leu.
'Tis true: what then?
Bac.
What then? you make my smiling now
Break into laughter: what think you is to be done then?
Leu.
We shou'd pray to Heaven for mercy.
Bacha.
Pray? that were a way indeed
To pass the time: but I will make you blush,
To see a bashfull woman teach a man
What we should doe alone: try again
If you can find it out.
Leu.
I dare not think I understand you.
Bac.
I must teach you then; Come, kiss me.
Leu.
Kiss you?
Bac.
Yes, be not asham'd:
You did it not your self, I will forgive you.
Leuc.
Keep you displeas'd gods, the due respect
I ought to bear unto this wicked woman,
As she is now my Mother, Haste within me,
Lest I add sins to sins, till no repentance will cure me.
Bac.
Leave these melancholy moods,
That I may swear thee welcome on thy Lipps
A thousand times.
Leuc.
Pray leave this wicked talk,
You doe not know to what my Fathers wrong
May urge me.
Bac.
I'm careless, and doe weigh
The world, my life, and all my after hopes
Nothing without thy Love, mistake me not:
Thy Love, as I have had it, free and open
As wedlock is, within it self, what say you?
Leu.
Nothing.
Bac.
Pitty me, behold a Duchess
Kneels for thy mercie, and I swear to you
Though I should lye with you, it is no Lust,
For it desires no change, I could with you
Content my self; what answer will you give?
Leuc.
They that can answer must be less amaz'd,
Than I am now: you see my tears deliver
My meaning to you.
Bac.
Shall I be contem'd? thou art a beast, worse than a savage beast,
To let a Lady kneel, to beg that thing
Which a right man would offer.
Leu.
'Tis your will Heaven: but let me hear me like
My self, how ever she does.
Bac.
Were you made an Eunuch, since you went hence?
Yet they have more desire than I can find in you:
How fond was I to beg thy love? I'll force thee to my will.
Dost thou not know that I can make the King
Dote as my list? yield quickly, or by Heaven
I'll have thee kept in prison for my purpose,
Where I will make thee serve my turn, and have thee fed
With such meats as best shall fit my ends
And not thy health, why dost not speak to me?
And when thou dost displease me, and art grown
Less able to perform; then I will have thee
Kill'd and forgotten: Are you striken dumb?
Leu.
All you have nam'd but making of me sin
With you, you may command, but never that;
Say what you will, I'll hear you as becomes me,
If you speak, I will not follow your counsell,
Neither will I tell the world to your disgrace,
But give you the just honor
That is due from me to my Father's wife.
Bac.
Lord how full of wise formality you'r grown
Of late: but you were telling me
You could have wisht that I had marry'd you,
If you will swear so yet, I'll make away the King.
Leuc.
You are a strumpet.
Bacha.
Nay, I care not
For all your Railings: They will Batter walls
And take in Towns, as soon as trouble me:
Tell him, I care not, I shall undoe you only, which is no matter.
Leu.
I appeal to you still, and for ever, that are
And cannot be other, Madam, I see 'tis in your power
To work your will on him: And I desire you
To lay what trains you will for my wish'd death,
But suffer him to find his quiet grave
In peace, Alas he never did you wrong,
And farther I beseech you pardon me,
For the ill word I gave you, for however
You may deserve, it became not me
To call you so, but passion urges me
I know not whither: my heart break now, & ease me ever
Bacha.
Pray you get you hence
With your goodly humor, I am weary of you extreamely:
Leu.
Trust me, so am I of my self too:
Madam, I'll take my leave; gods set all right.
Bacha.
Amen, Sir, get you gon;
Am I deny'd? it does not trouble me
That I have mov'd, but that I am refus'd:
I have lost my patience: I will make him know
Lust is not Love, for Lust will find a mate
While there are men, and so will I: and more.
Enter Timantus.
Than one, or twenty: yonder is Timantus,
A fellow void of any worth, to raise himself,
And therefore like to catch at any evil
That will but pluck him up: him will I make
Mine own: Timantus, Timantus. Madam?
Bac.
Thou know'st well
Thou wert by chance, a means of this my raising:
Brought the Duke to me, and though 'twere but chance
I must reward thee.
Tim.
I shall bend my service unto your Highness.
Bacha.
But do it then entirely, and in every thing,
And tell me, couldst thou now think that thing
Thou wouldst not do for me?
Timant.
No by my soul Madam.
Bacha.
Then thou art right.
Go to my Lodging, and I'll follow thee.
Exit Timantus.
With my instruction I do see already,
This Prince that did but now contemn me, dead:
Yet will I never speak an evil word
Unto his Father of him, till I have won
A belief, I love him, but I'll make
His virtues his undoing, and my praises
Shall be so many swords against his breast,
Which once perform'd, I'll make Urania
My Daughter, the Kings heir, and plant my issue
In this large Throne: nor shall it be withstood,
They that begin in Lust, must end in Blood.
Exit.
Enter Dorialus, Agenor, Nisus.
Doria.
We live to know a fine time, Gentl.
Nis.
And a fine Duke, that through his doting age
Suffers him to be a child again
Under his Wives tuition.
Agen.
All the Land holds in that tenor too: in womans
service? sure we shall learn to spinn.
Dor.
No, that's too honest: we shall have other
Liberal Sciences taught us too soon;
Lying, and flattering, those are the studies now:
If we live here we must be knaves, believe it.
Nisus.
I cannot tell my Lord Dorialus, though my
Own nature hate it, if all determine to be knaves,
I'll try what I can do upon my self: that's certain,
I will not have my throat cut for my goodness,
The virtue will not quit the pain.
Age.
But pray you tell me,
Why is the Prince now ripe and full experient,
Not made a dore in the State?
Nis.
Because he is honest.
Enter Timantus.
Tim.
Goodness attend your Honors.
Dor.
You must not be amongst us then.
Tim.
The Dutchess, whose humble servant I am proud
to be, would speak with you.
Age.
Sir, we are pleas'd to wait: when is it?
Tim.
An hour hence my good Lords, and so I leave my service.
Dor.
This is one of her Ferrets that she bolts business
out withall: this fellow, if he were well ript, has all
the linings of a knave within him: how flye he looks?
Nis.
Have we nothing about our cloaths that he may
catch at?
Agenor.
O my conscience, there's no treason in my
dublet, if there be, my elbows will discover it, they are
out.
Dor.
Faith, and all the harm that I can find in mine
is, that they are not pay'd for; let him make what he can
of that, so he discharge that. Come, let's go.
Exeunt.
Enter Bach, Leontius, Tella.
Bac.
And you shall find Sir what blessing heaven gave
you in such a son.
Le.
Pray gods, I may, Let's walk & change our subject.
Bac.
O Sir, can any thing come sweeter to you, or strike
a deeper joy into your heart than your son's virtue?
Leon.
I allow his virtues: but 'tis not handsome thus to
feed my self with such moderate praises of mine own.
Bac.
The subject of our comendations is it self grown
so infinite in goodness, that all the glory we can lay
upon it, though we should open volumes of his praises,
is a mere modesty in his expression, and shews him lame
still, like an ill wrought peece wanting proportion.
Leo.
Yet still he is a man, and subject still to more inordinate
vices, than our love can give him blessing.
Bac.
Else he were a god. yet so near as he is, he comes
to heaven, that we may see so far as flesh can point us
things only worthy them, and only these in all his
actions.
Leon.
This is too much my Queen.
Bach.
Had the gods, lov'd me; that my unworthy womb
had bred this brave man.
Leon.
Stil you run wrong.
Bach.
I would have liv'd upon the comfort of him; fed
on his growing hopes.
Leo.
This touches me.
Bach.
I know no friends, nor Being, but his virtues.
Le.
You have laid out words enough upon a subject.
Bach.
But words cannot express him Sir: why what a
shape Heaven has conceiv'd him in, oh Nature made
him up!
Leon.
I wonder Dutchess.
Bach.
So you must: for less than admiration loses this
god-like man.
Leon.
Have you done with him?
Bach.
Done with? O good gods what frailties thus pass
by us without reverence?
Leon.
I see no such perfection.
Bac.
O dear Sir: you are a father, and those joys
To you, speak in your heart, not in your tongue.
Leo.
This leaves a tast behind it worse than physick.
Baca.
Then for all his wisdome, valour,
Good fortune, and all those friends of honor,
They are in him as free and natural, as passions
In a Woman.
Leon.
You make me blush at all these years
To see how blindly you have flung your praises
Upon a Boy, a very child, and worthless,
Whilst I live, of these Honors.
Bac.
I would not have my love Sir, make my tongue
Shew me so much a woman: as to praise
Or dispraise, where my will is, without reason,
Or generall allowance of the people.
Leon.
Allowance of the people, what allow they!
Bac.
All, I have sed for truth, and they must do it,
And doat upon him: love him, and admire him.
Leon.
How's that?
Bac.
For in this youth and noble forwardness
All things are bound together that are kingly,
A fitness to bear rule:
Leon.
No more.
Bac.
And Sovereignty not made to know command.
Leon.
I have sed, no more.
Bac.
I have done Sir, though unwilling, and pardon me.
Leon.
I do, not a word more.
Baca.
I have gi'n thee poyson
Of more infection than the Dragons tooth,
Or the gross Air o'er heated.
Leon.
Timantus when saw you the Prince?
Tim.
I left him now Sir.
Leon.
Tell me truely, out of your free opinion without
courting. How you like him.
Tim.
How I like him?
Leon.
Yes. for you in conversation may see more
Than a Father.
Bac.
It works.
Timantus.
Your Grace has chosen out an ill observer.
Leon.
Yes, I mean of his ill: you talk rightly.
Tim.
But you take me wrong: All I know by him
I dare deliver boldly: He is the store-house
And head of virtue; your great self excepted,
That feeds the Kingdome.
Leon.
These are flatteries: speak me his vices, there you
do a service worth a Fathers thanks.
Tim.
Sir, I cannot. If there be any, sure they are the
times which I could wish less dangerous.
Leon.
You are not, forward and open what these dangers are.
Timan.
Nay, good Sir.
Leon.
Nay, fall not off again, I will have all.
Timan.
Alas Sir, what am I, you should believe
My eyes or ears, so subtle to observe
Faults in a State: all my main business
Is service to your Grace, and necessaries
For my poor life.
Leon.
Do not displease me Sirrah,
But that you know tell me, and presently.
Timan.
Since your Grace will have it
I'll speak it freely: Alwayes my obedience
And love preserv'd unto the Prince.
Leon.
Prethee to the matter.
Tim.
For Sir, if you consider
How like a Sun in all his great employments,
How full of heat.
Leon.
Make me understand what I desire.
Tim.
And then at his return.
Leon.
Do not anger me.
Tim.
Then thus Sir: All mislike ye,
As they would do the gods, if they did dwell with 'em.
Leon.
What?
Talke and prate, as their ignorant rages
Leads 'em without Alleageance or Religion.
For Heavens sake have a care of your own person:
I cannot tell, their wickedness may lead
Farther than I dare think yet.
Leo.
O base people.
Tim.
Yet the Prince, for whom this is pretended may
Persuade 'em, and no doubt will: virtue is ever watchfull,
But be you still secur'd and comforted.
Leon.
Heaven how have I offended, that this rod
So heavy and unnaturall, should fall upon me
When I am old and helpless.
Tim.
Brave Gentl. that such a madding love should follow
thee, to rob thee of a Father:
Leon.
I perceive it, and 'spight of all their strengths will
make my safety: I'll cut him shorter.
Bach.
What a foul Age is this, when Virtue is made a
sword to smite the virtuous? Alas, alas:
Leon.
I'll teach him to fly lower.
Tim.
By no means Sir, rather, make more your love,
And hold your favor to him: for 'tis now
Impossible to yoke him, if his thoughts,
As I must ne'er believe, run with their rages,
He never was so innocent, but what reason
His Grace has to withdraw his love from me,
And other good men that are near your person,
I cannot yet find out: I know my duty
Has ever been attending.
Leon.
'Tis too plain: He means to play the villain,
I'll prevent him, not a word more of this, be private.
Exit Leontius.
Tim.
Madam 'tis done.
Bac.
He cannot escape me. Have you spoken with the noble men?
Tim.
Yes Madam they are here: I wait a farther service.
Bac,
Till yet be the Prince, you need no more instructions.
Tim.
No, I have it.
Exit Timantus.
Enter Dorialus, Nisus, Agenor.
Bac.
That fool that willingly provoks a woman,
Has made himself another evill Angell,
And a new Hell, to which all other torments
Are but mere pastime: Now my noble Lords,
You must excuse me, that unmannerly
We have broke your private business.
Agen.
Your good Grace may command us, and that.
Bac.
Faith my Lord Agenor: 'Tis so good a cause
I am confident, you cannot loose by it.
Dorialus.
Which way does she fish now?
The devill is but a fool to a right woman.
Nisus.
Madam, we must needs win in doing service
to such a gracious Lady.
Bac.
I thank you, and will let you know the business:
So I may have your helps, never be doubtfull,
For 'tis so just a cause, and will to you
Upon the knowledge seem so honorable,
That I assure my self your willing hearts
Will strait be for me in it.
Age.
If she should prove good now, what wer't like?
Dorial.
Thunder in Ianuarie, or a good woman,
That's stranger than all Affrick.
Bac.
It shall not need your wonder, this it is:
The Duke you know is old, and rather subject
To ease and prayers now, than all those troubles,
Cares, and continuall watchings, that attend
A Kingdomes safety, therefore to prevent
The fall of such a flourishing Estate
As this has been, and to put off
The murmure of the people that encrease
Against my government, which the gods knows
I onely feel the trouble of: I present
The Prince unto your loves, a Gent.
In whom all Excellencies are knit together,
All peeces of a true man, let your prayers
Win from the Duke half his Vexation,
That he may undertake it, whose discretion
I must confess, though it be from the Father,
Yet now is stronger, and more apt to govern.
'Tis not my own desire, but all the Lands,
I know the weakeness of it.
Nisus.
Madam, this noble care and love has won us
For ever to your lives, we'll to the King,
And since your Grace has put it in our mouths,
We'll win him with the cunning'st words we can.
Dorial.
I was never cousen'd in a woman before:
For commonly they are like Apples: If once they bruise
They will grow rotten thorow, and serve for nothing but
to asswage swellings.
Bac.
Good Lords delay no time, since 'tis your good
Pleasures to think my counsell good, and by no means
Let the Prince know it, whose affections
Will stir mainly against it: besides his Father
May hold him dangerous, if it be not carried
So that his forward will appear not in it,
Go, and be happy.
Dorial.
Well, I would not be Chronicl'd as thou
Wilt be for a good woman, for all the world.
Nisus.
Madam, we kiss your hand, and so inspire.
Nothing but happiness can crown our prayers.
Exeunt.
| Cupid's Revenge | |