 | The Bloody Brother ; or, Rollo |  |
SCENE III.
Enter Sophia, Matilda, and Edith.Mat.
Good Madam, hear the suit that Edith urges,
With such submiss beseeches; nor remain
So strictly bound to sorrow for your son,
That, nothing else, though never so befitting,
Obtains your ears, or observation.
Sop.
What would she say? I hear.
Edith.
My suit is, Madam,
That you would please to think as well of justice
Due to your sons revenge, as of more wrong added
To both your selves for it, in only grieving.
Th'undaunted power of Princes should not be
Confin'd in deedless cold calamity;
Anger, the Twin of sorrow, in your wrongs
Should not be smother'd, when his right of birth
Claims th'Air as well, and force of coming forth.
Sop.
Sorrow is due already, anger never
Should be conceived but where it may born
In some fact fit t'employ his active flame,
That else consumes who bears it, and abides
Like a false star that quenches as it glides.
Ed.
I have such means t'employ it as your wish
Can think no better, easier, or securer;
And such as but th'honours I intend
To your partakings, I alone could end:
But your parts in all dues to crying blood
For vengeance in the shedder, are much greater:
And therefore should work your hands to his slaughter.
For your consent to which, 'twere infinite wrong
To your severe and most impartial justice,
To move you to forget so false a son
As with a Mothers duty made you curse him.
Mat.
Edith, he is forgot, for any son
Born of my Mother, or to me a Brother.
For should we still perform our rights to him
We should partake his wrongs, and as foul be
In blood and damned parricide as he.
And therefore tell the happy means that Heaven
Puts in thy hand, for all our long'd for freedom
From so abhorr'd and impious a monster.
Sop.
Tell what she will, I'le lend nor hand nor ear
To whatsoever Heaven puts in her power.
[Exit Sophia.
Mat.
How strange she is to what she chiefly wishes?
Sweet Edith be not any thought the more
Discourag'd in thy purpose, but assured,
Her heart and prayers are thine; and that we two
Shall be enough to all we wish to do.
Edith.
Madam, my self alone, I make no doubt
Shall be afforded power enough from Heaven
To end the murtherer: all I wish of you,
Is but some richer Ornaments and Jewels
Than I am able to provide my self,
To help out the defects of my poor Beauty,
That yet hath been enough, as now it is,
To make his fancy mad with my desire?
But you know, Madam, Women never can
Be too fair to torment an amorous man;
And this mans torments I would heighten still,
Till at their highest he be fit to kill.
Mat.
Thou shalt have all my Jewels and my Mothers,
And thou shalt paint too, that his bloods desire
May make him perish in a painted fire;
Hast thou been with him yet?
Edith.
Been with him? no;
I set that hour back to haste more his longing;
But I have promis'd to his instruments,
The admittance of a visit at our house,
Where yet I would receive him with all lustre
My sorrow would give leave to, to remove
Suspicion of my purpose.
Mat.
Thou shalt have
All I can add, sweet wench, in Jewels, tyres,
I'le be my self thy dresser; nor may I
Serve my own love with a contracted Husband
More sweetly, nor more amply than maist thou
Thy forward will with his bewitch'd affections:
Affect'st thou any personal aid of mine
My noblest Edith?
Edith.
Nought but your kind prayers
For full effect and speed of my affair.
Mat.
They are thine, my Edith, as for me, my own;
For thou well know'st, if blood shed of the best
Should cool and be forgotten, who would fear
To shed blood still? or where, alas, were then
444
Ed.
Love of the worthiest ever bless your highness.
[Exe.
| The Bloody Brother ; or, Rollo | |