 | The Prophetesse |  |
Scœna Tertia.
Enter Charinus, Aurelia, Cassana, Ambassadours, Attendants.Aur.
Never dispute with me; you cannot have her:
nor name the greatnesse of your King; I scorn him:
your knees to me are nothing; should he bow too,
it were his dutie, and my power to slight him.
Cha.
She is her woman; never sue to me;
and in her power to render her, or keep her;
and she, my sister, not to be compell'd,
nor have her own snatch'd from her.
Amb.
We desire not,
but for what ransom she shall please to think of;
Jewels, or Towns, or Provinces.
Aur.
No ransom,
—No, not your Kings own head, his crown upon it,
36
Am.
Fair Princes should have tender thoughts.
Aur.
Is she too good
to wait upon the mighty Emperours sister?
What Princesse of that sweetnesse, or that excellence,
sprung from the proudest, and the mightiest Monarchs,
but may be highly blest to be my servant?
Cas.
'Tis most true, mighty Lady.
Aur.
Has my fair usage
made you so much despise me and your fortune,
that ye grow weary of my entertainments?
Henceforward, as ye are, I will command ye,
and as you were ordain'd my prisoner,
my slave, and one I may dispose of any way,
no more my fair Companion: tell your King so:
and if he had more sisters, I would have 'em,
and use 'em as I please. You have your Answer.
Amb.
We must take some other way: force must compel it.
Exit.
Enter Maximinian.
Max.
Now if thou beest a Prophetesse, and canst do
things of that wonder that thy tongue delivers,
canst raise me too: I shall be bound to speak thee:
I half believe, confirm the other to me,
and Monuments to all succeeding Ages,
of thee, and of thy piety.—Now she eyes me.
Now work great power of Art: she moves unto me:
how sweet, how fair, and lovely her aspects are?
her eyes are like bright Ioan flames shot thorow me.
Aur.
O my fair friend, where have you been?
Max.
What am I?
what does she take me for? Work still, work strongly.
Aur.
Where have you fled, my loves and my embraces?
Max.
I am beyond my wits.
Aur.
Can one poor Thunder,
whose causes are as common as his noises,
make ye defer your lawful and free pleasures?
strike terrour to a Souldiers heart, a Monarchs?
Thorow all the fires of angry heaven, thorow tempests
that sing of nothing but destruction,
even underneath the bolt of Jove, then ready,
and aiming dreadfully, I would seek you,
and flie into your arms.
Max.
I shall be mighty,
and (which I never knew yet) I am goodly;
for certain, a most handsom man.
Cha.
Fie, sister,
what a forgetful weaknesse is this in ye?
what a light presence? these are words and offers
due onely to your husband Dioclesian;
this free behaviour onely his.
Aur.
'Tis strange
that onely empty Names compel Affections:
this man, ye see, give him what name or title,
let it be nere so poor, nere so despis'd (brother)
this lovely man.—
Max.
Though I be hang'd, I'll forward:
for (certain) I am excellent, and knew not.
Aur.
This rare and sweet young man, see how he looks, Sir,
Max.
I'll justle hard, dear Uncle.
Aur.
This Thing, I say,
let him be what he will, or bear what fortune,
this most unequall'd man, this spring of beauty
deserves the bed of Juno.
Cha.
You are not mad.
Max.
I hope she be; I am sure I am little better.
Aur.
O fair, sweet man!
Cha.
For shame refrain this impudence.
Max.
Would I had her alone, that I might seal this blessing:
sure, sure she should not beg: If this continue,
as I hope (heaven) it will; Uncle, I'll nick ye,
I'll nick ye, by this life. Some would fear killing
in the pursuit now of so rare a venture;
Enter Diocles.
I am covetous to die for such a Beauty.
Mine Uncle comes: now, if she stand, I am happie.
Cha.
Be right again, for honours sake.
Dio.
Fair Mistris—
Aur.
What man is this? Away. What sawcy fellow?
dare any such base groom presse to salute me?
Dio.
Have ye forgot me (Fair) or do you jest with me?
I'll tell ye what I am: come, 'pray ye look lovely.
Nothing but frowns and scorns?
Aur.
Who is this fellow?
Dio.
I'll tell ye who I am: I am your husband.
Aur.
Husband to me?
Dio.
To you. I am Dioclesian.
Max.
More of this sport, and I am made, old mother:
effect but this thou hast begun.
Dio.
I am he (Lady)
reveng'd your brothers death; slew cruel Aper:
I am he the Souldier courts, the Empire honours,
your Brother loves: am he (my lovely Mistris)
will make you Empresse of the world.
Max.
Still excellent:
Now I see too, mine Uncle may be cozen'd.
An Emperour may suffer like another.
Well said (old mother) hold but up this miracle.
Aur.
Thou lyest; thou art not he: thou a brave fellow?
Cha.
Is there no shame, no modestie in women?
Aur.
Thou one of high and full mark?
Dio.
Gods, what ails she?
Aur.
Generous and noble? Fie, thou lyest most basely.
Thy face, and all aspect upon thee, tells me
thou art a poor Dalmatian slave, a lowe thing
not worth the name of Romane: stand off farther.
Dio.
What may this mean?
Aur.
Come hither, my Endymion;
come, shew thy self, and all eyes be blessed in thee.
Dio.
Hah? what is this?
Aur.
Thou fair Star that I live by,
look lovely on me, break into full brightnesse:
Look, here's a face now, of another making,
another mold; here's a divine proportion,
eyes fit for Phœbus self, to gild the world with;
and there's a brow arch'd like the state of heaven;
look how it bends, and with what radience,
as if the Synod of the gods sate under:
look there, and wonder: now behold that fellow,
that admirable thing, cut with an ax out.
Max.
Old woman, though I cannot give thee recompence,
yet (certainly) I'll make thy name as glorious.
Dio.
Is this in truth?
Cha.
She is mad, and you must pardon her.
Dio.
She hangs upon him: see.
Cha.
Her fit is strong now:
be not you passionate.
Dio.
She kisses.
Cha.
Let her;
't is but the fondnesse of her fit.
Dio.
I am fool'd,
and if I suffer this.
Cha.
Pray ye (friend) be pacified,
this will be off anon: she goes in.
Exit Aurelia.
37
Sirha.
Max.
What say you, Sir?
Dio.
How dare thy lips, thy base lips?
Max.
I am your kinsman Sir, and no such base one:
I sought no kisses, nor I had no reason
to kick the Princesse from me: 't was no manners:
I never yet compell'd her: of her courtesie
what shee bestows Sir, I am thankfull for.
Dio.
Be gone villain.
Max.
I will, and I will go off with that glory,
and magnifie my fate.
Exit.
Dio.
Good brother leave me,
I am to my self a trouble now.
Char.
I am sorry for't.
You'll find it but a woman-fit to try ye.
Dio.
It may be so; I hope so.
Cha.
I am asham'd, and what I think I blush at.
Exit.
Dio.
What misery hath my great Fortune bred me?
and how far must I suffer? Poor and low States,
though they know wants and hungers, know not these,
know not these killing Fates: Little contents them,
and with that little they live, Kings commanding,
and ordering both their Ends and Loves. O Honour!
how geedily men seek thee, and once purchased,
how many enemies to mans peace bringst thou?
how many griefs and sorrows, that like sheers,
like fatall sheers, are sheering off our lives still?
how many sad ecclipses do we shine thorow?
Enter Delphia, Drusilla vail'd.
When I presum'd I was bless'd in this fair woman,
Del.
Behold him now, and tell me how thou likest him.
Dio.
When all my hopes were up, and Fortune dealt me
even for the greatest and the happiest Monarch,
then to be cozen'd, to be cheated basely?
by mine owne kinsman cross'd? O villain kinsman!
Curse of my blood; because a little younger,
a little smoother fac'd: O false, false woman,
false and forgetfull of thy faith: I'll kill him.
But can I kill her hate too? No: he wooes not,
nor worthie is of death, because she follows him,
because she courts him: Shall I kill an innocent?
O Diocles! would thou hadst never known this,
nor surfeited upon this sweet Ambition,
that now lies bitter at thy heart: O Fortune,
that thou hast none to fool and blow like bubbles,
but Kings, and their Contents!
Del.
What think ye now, Girl?
Dru.
Upon my life, I pity his misfortune.
See how he weeps; I cannot hold.
Del.
Away fool;
he must weep bloody tears before thou hast him.
How fare ye now, brave Dioclesian?
What? lazie in your loves? has too much pleasure
dull'd your most mighty faculties?
Dio.
Art thou there?
more to torment me? Dost thou come to mock me?
Del.
I doe: and I do laugh at all thy suffrings.
I that have wrought 'em come to scorn thy wailings:
I told thee once, This is thy fate, this woman,
and as thou usest her, so thou shalt prosper.
It is not in thy power to turn this destiny,
not stop the torrent of those miseries
(if thou neglect her still) shall fall upon thee.
Sigh that thou art dishonest, false of faith,
proud, and dost think no power can crosse thy pleasures;
thou wilt find a Fate above thee.
Dru.
Good Aunt speak mildly:
see how he looks and suffers.
Dio.
I find and feel, woman,
that I am miserable.
Del.
Thou art most miserable.
Dio.
That as I am the most, I am most miserable.
But didst thou work this?
Del.
Yes, and will pursue it.
Dio.
Stay there, and have some pity: fair Drusilla,
let me perswade thy mercy, thou hast lov'd mee,
although I know my suit will sound unjustly
to make thy love the means to lose it selfe,
have pity on me.
Dru.
I will do.
Del.
Peace Neece.
although this softnesse may become your love,
your care must scorn it. Let him still contemn thee,
And still I'll work: the same affection
he ever shews to thee, be it sweet or bitter,
the same Aurelia shall shew him; no further:
nor shall the wealth of all his Empire free this.
Dio.
I must speak fair. Lovely young maid, forgive me,
look gently on my sorrows: You that grieve too;
I see it in your eyes, and thus I meet it.
Dru.
O Aunt, I am bless'd.
Dio.
Be not both young and cruell,
again I beg it, thus.
Dru.
Thus, Sir, I grant it.
Enter Aurelia.
He's mine own now, Aunt.
Del.
Not yet (Girl) thou art cozen'd.
Aur.
O my deer Lord, how have I wrong'd your patience?
how wandred from the truth of my affections?
how (like a wanton fool) shun'd that I lov'd most?
but you are full of goodnesse to forgive, Sir,
as I of griefe to beg, and shame to take it:
sure I was not my self, some strange illusion,
or what you please to pardon.
Dio.
All, my Deerest;
all, my Delight; and with more pleasure take thee,
then if there had been no such dream: for certain,
it was no more.
Aur.
Now you have seal'd forgivenesse,
I take my leave; and the gods keep your goodnesse.
Exit.
Del.
You see how kindnesse prospers: be but so kind
to marry her, and see then what new fortunes,
new joyes, and pleasures; far beyond this Lady,
beyond her Greatnesse too.
Dio.
I'll die a dog first.
Now I am reconcil'd, I will enjoy her
in spight of all thy spirits, and thy witchcrafts.
Del.
Thou shalt not (fool).
Dio.
I will, old doating Divels;
and wert thou any thing but air and spirit,
my sword should tell thee.
Del.
I contemn thy threatnings,
and thou shalt know I hold a power above thee.
Wee must remove Aurelia: Come, farewell fool,
when thou shalt see me next, thou shalt bow to me.
Dio.
Look thou appear no more to crosse my pleasures.
Exeunt.
| The Prophetesse | |