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Actvs Secvndvs.

Enter Sciarrha and Lorenzo.
Sciarrha.
My Sister, though hee be the Duke, he dares not,
Patience, patience, if there be such a vertue,
I want it Heaven, yet keep't a little longer,
It were a sinne to have it, such an injury
Deserves a wrath next to your owne, my Sister?
It has throwne wild-fire in my braine Lorenzo,
A thousand furies revell in my skull,
Has he not sinnes enough in's Court to damne him.
But my Roofe must be guilty of new lusts,
And none but Amidea? these the honours
His presence brings our house?

Lo.
Temper your rage.

Sci.
Are all the Brothels rifled? no queint peece
Left him in Florence, that will meete his hot
And valiant luxury, that we are come
To supply his blood out of our families?
Diseases gnaw his title off.

Lo.
My Lord—

Sci.
He is no Prince of mine, he forfeited
His greatnesse, that blacke minute he first gave
Consent to my dishonour.

Lo.
Then I'me sorry.

Sci.
Why should you be sorry sir?


You say it is my Sister he would strumpet,
Mine, Amidea? tis a wound you feele not,
But it strikes through, and through the poore Sciarrah,
I doe not thinke, but all the ashes of
My Ancestours doe swell in their darke urnes
At this report, of Amidea's shame:
It is their cause as well as mine, and should
Heaven suffer the Dukes sinne to passe unpunishd,
Their dust must of necessity conspire,
To make an earthquake in the Temple.

Lo.
Sir,
You said you would heare me out.

Sci.
Why is there more
Behind?

Lo.
And greater Master, your high blood
Till I conclude Sciarrha, I accuse not
Your noble anger, which I have observ'd,
Is not on every cheape and giddy motion
Inflam'd, but Sir, be thrifty in your passion,
This is a petty trespasse.

Sci.
Has mischiefe any name
Beyond this? will it kill me with the sound?

Lo.
My Lord, though the dishonouring your Sister,
Be such a fact, the blood of any other
But Alexander could no lesse then expiate,
Yet this sinne stretches farther, and involves
With hers, your greater staine: did you e're promise him?
Yet why doe I make any question?
It were another crime, to thinke Sciarrah
Could entertaine a thought, so farre beneath
His birth, you stoope to such a horrid basenesse,
Then all the vertue of mankind would sicken,
And soone take leave of earth.

Sci.
You torture me.

Lo.
What then could the Duke finde, to give him any
Encouragement you would be guilty of
An act, so fatall unto honour, what


When you were least your selfe? (as we are all
Fraile compositions) did appeare so wicked
In you, he should conceave a hope, and flatter
Himselfe with possibility, to corrupt
Your Soule to a deed so monstrous?

Sci.
To what?

Lo.
Though all the teeming glories of His Dukedome,
Nay Florence State offerd it selfe a bribe,
And tempted the betraying of your name
To infamy, yet to imagine, you
Would turne officious pander to his lust,
And interpose the mercenary bawde
To Court your Sister to his sinfull coupling:
Tis horrid, affrights nature, I grow stiffe
With the imagination.

Sci.
Hah!

Lo.
Yet this was his command I should impose.

Sci.
Lorenzo,
I doe want breath, my voice is ravisht from me,
I am not what I was, or if I be,
Sciarrha thou hast talkt too, all this while
Looke heedfully about me, and thou maist
Discover through some cranny of my flesh,
A fire within, my soule is but one flame,
Extended to all parts of this fraile building,
I shall to ashes, I begin to shrinke,
Is not already my complexion alter'd,
Does not my face looke parchd, and my skin gather
Into a heape? my breath is hot enough
To thaw the Alpes.

Lo.
Your fancy would
Transport you.

Sci.
Tis my rage, but let it coole,
And then wee'le talke o'something, something sir,
Shall be to purpose.

Lo.
Now the flame is mounted,
My Lord I have given proofe, although he be


My Duke, and Kinsman, I abhorre his vices,
How e're the world without examination,
Shoote their malicious noise, and staine my actions:
Tis policy in Princes, to create
A Favorite, who must beare all the guilt
Of things ill mannag'd in the State, if any
Designe be happy, tis the Princes owne.
Heaven knowes, how I have counsell'd this young man,
By vertue to prevent his fate, and governe
With modesty: O the religious dayes
Of Common-wealths!
We have out-liv'd that blessing.

Sci.
But I have thought a cure for this great State
Impostume.

Lo.
What?

Sci.
To lance it, is't, not ripe?
Lets draw cuts, whether your hand or mine
Shall doe an act for Florence liberty,
And send this Tyrant to another world.

Lo.
How, I draw cuts?

Sci.
Coy it not thus Lorenzo,
But answere, by thy name and birth, you are
His Kinsman; we all know it, that you dwell
In's bosome, great in favour, as in blood,
We know that too, and let me tell you more:
We know you but disguise your heart, and wish
Florence would change her title.

Lo.
How is this?

Sci.
We know you have firme correspondence with
The banisht men, whose desperate fortunes waite
Your call to tumult, in our streetes, all this,
Not to feed your ambition with a Dukedome,
By the remove of Alexander, but
To serve your Countrey, and create their peace,
Who groane under the Tyranny of a proud,
Lascivious Monarch, is't not true Lorenzo?
My phrase is blunt my Lord.

Lo.
My Genius


And thine are friends, I see they have convers't
And I Applaude the wisedome of my Stars,
That made mee for his friendship, who preserves
The same religious fire, I will confesse,
When Alexander left his pietie
To Florence, I plac'd him beneath my Countrie,
As we should all, but we have lost our soules,
Or changd our active spirits, for a dull
And lazie sufferance, let this secret bee
An argument, how much I dare repose
Vpon Sciarrahs honor, vertue witnesse,
I chuse no other destinie, command
Lorenzo'es fate, dissolve me with your breath,
Ile either live, in your exchange of faith
A patriot, or dy my Countries martir.

Sci.
Thou hast a fire beyound Prometheus
To quicken earth, thy flame is but a prophsie
Of that high paramide, the world shall build
To thy immortall name: it was the glorie
Of Romans to preferre their Empires safety
To their owne lives, they were but men like us,
And of the same ingredients, our soules
Create of no inferiour substance; ha?

Lo.
Heaven knows I've no paticular designe
To leape unto a throne, I will disclaime
The priviledge of blood, let mee advance
Our liberty, restore the ancient Lawes
Of the republicke, rescue from the jawes
Of lust your mothers, wives, your daughters, sisters,

Sci.
Sisters.

Lo.
From horrid Rape las Amidea:

Sci.
I am resolvd, by all thats blest, hee dyes
Returne my willingnesse to be his pander,
My sisters readinesse to meete his Dalliance,
His promises haue bought our shame, hee dyes,
The roofe hee would dishonor with his Lust
Shall be his toombe, bid him bee confident,


Conduct him good Lorenzo, ile dispose
My house for this great scene of death.

Lo.
Be constant.

Exit.
Enter Florio, and his Sister Amidea.
Flo.
Now brother, what newes brings the great Lorenzo?

Sci.
Let me have truce vexation for some minutes,
What newes? preferments, honours, offices;
Sister, you must to Court.

Am.
Who, I to Court?

Sci.
Or else the Court will come to you, the Duke
Hath sent already for us Amidea:
O that I knew what happy Starres did governe
At thy Nativity: It were no sinne
To adore their influence.

Am.
What meanes my brother?

Flo.
Hee's transported.

Am.
I shall suspect your health.

Sci.
I easily could forget I am Sciarrha,
And fall in love my selfe, is she not faire,
Exceeding beautifull, and tempting Florio?
Looke on her well, me-thinkes I could turne Poet,
And make her a more excellent peece then heaven.
Let not fond men hereafter commend what
They most admire, by fetching from the Starres
Or flowers their glory of similitude;
But from thy selfe the rule to know all beauty,
And he that shall arrive at so much boldnesse,
To say his Mistris eyes, or voice, or breath,
Are halfe so bright, so cleare, so sweete as thine,
Hath told the world enough of miracle.
These are the Dukes owne Raptures, Amidea,
His owne Poeticke flames, an argument
He loues my Sister.

Ami.
Love me?

Sci.
Infinitly,
I am in earnest, he employ'd Lorenzo,
No meaner person in this Embassie,
You must to Court, Oh happinesse!

Ami.
For what?



Sci,
What doe great Ladies doe at Court I pray?
Enjoy the pleasures of the world, dance, kisse
The Amorous Lords, and change Court breath, sing loose
Beleefe of other, heauen, tell wanton dreames,
Rehearse your sprightly bed-scenes, and boast, which
Hath most Idolaters, accuse all faces,
That trust to the simplicity of nature,
Talke witty blasphemy,
Discourse their gawdy wardrobes, plot new pride,
Jeast upon Courtiers legs, laugh at the wagging
Of their owne feathers, and a thousand more
Delights, which private Ladies never thinke of:
But above all, and wherein thou shalt make
All other beauties envy thee, the Duke,
The Duke himselfe shall call thee his, and single
From the faire troope, thy person forth, to exchange
Embraces with, lay siege to these soft lips,
And not remoue, till he hath suck'd thy heart,
Which soone dissolv'd with thy sweete breath, shall be
Made part of his, at the same instant, he
Conveying a new soule into thy breast,
With a creating kisse.

Ami.
You make me wonder,
Pray speake that I may understand.

Sci.
Why will you
Appeare so ignorant? I speake the dialect
Of Florence to you, come, I finde your cunning;
The newes does please, the rolling of your eye
Betrayes you, and I see a guilty blush
Through this white veyle upon your cheeke, you wo'd
Have it confirm'd, you shall, the Duke himselfe
Shall sweare he loves you.

Am.
Love me? why?

Sci.
To Court,
And aske him; be not you too peevish now,
And hinder all our fortune; I ha promis'd him
To move you for his arme-full, as I am
Sciarrha, and your brother, more I ha sent


Word to him by Lorenzo, that you should
Meete his high flame, in plaine Italian
Love him, and—

Ami.
What for heaven, be the Dukes whoore?

Sci.
No, no, his Mistris, command him, make us.

Ami.
Give up my Virgin-honour to his lust?

Sci.
You may give it a better name, but doo't.

Ami.
I doe mistake you brother, doe I not?

Sci.
No, no, my meaning is so broad, you cannot.

Ami.
I would I did then, is't not possible
That this should be a dreame? where did you drop
Your vertue Sir? Florio, why move you not?
Why are you slow to tell this man? for sure
Tis not Sciarrah, he hath talk'd so ill,
And so much, that we may have cause to feare,
The ayre about's infected.

Flo.
Are not you
My brother?

Sci.
Be not you a foole, to move
These empty questions, but joyne to make her
Supple, and pliant for the Duke, I hope
We are not the first ha bin advanc'd by a wagtaile:
No matter for the talke of musty people,
Looke up to the reward, thou art young, and skill'd
In these Court temptings, naturally soft,
And moving, I am rough hewne, assist, wo't,
With some queint charme, to win her to this game?

Flo.
My Sister?

Sci.
I, I.

Ami.
Come not neere him Florio,
Tis not Sciarrha, sure my brothers Nurse
Playd the impostor, and with some base issue
Cheated our house.

Sci.
Gipsy, use better language,
Or Ile forget your sexe.

Flo.
Offer to touch her
With any rudenesse, and by all that's vertuous—

Sci.
Why how now boy?

Flo.
I doe not feare your sword,
This with my youth, and innocence, is more


Defence then all thy armory, what Divell
Has crept into thy soule?

Sci.
Youle not helpe?

Flo.
Ile never kill thee.

Sc.
Tis very well,
Have you consider'd better o'the motion?

Am.
Yes.

Sci.
And whats your resolve

Am.
To have my name
Stand in the Ivorie register of Virgins,
When I am dead, before one factious thought
Should lurke within mee to betray my fame,
To such a blot, my hands shall mutinie,
And boldly with a poniard teach my heart
To weepe out a repentance.

Sci,
Let mee kill thee
My excellent chast Sister, Florio
Thou hast my soule, I did but trie your vertues,
'Tis truth, the Duke does love thee, vitiously,
Let him, let him, he comes to be our guest,
This night he meanes to revell at our house,
The Tarquine shall be entertained; he shall,

Serv.
My Lord, Pisano is come.

Sci.
I had forgot his promise, Looke up Sister
And shine with thy owne smiles, Pisano's come,
Pisano thy contracted, honor'd freind,
A gentleman so rich in hopes, wee shall
Enter a Servant.
Bee happy in's alliance.
Enter Pisano, Cosmo, Freder.
Welcome all,
But you above the rest, my brother shortly,
Sister and Florio entertaine your noble
Freinds, some few minutes, I am absent, wee
Must not forget prepare for the Dukes comming,
Ile soone returne

Exit.
Am.
You are not cheerfull sir.
How ist my Lord? you were not wont to looke
So sad when you came hither.

Pis.
I am not well Amidea.

Am.
Oh my hart!

Pis,
Bee you
Comforted Lady let all greifes repaire


To this, their proper Center.

Flo.
Sir how fare you?

Pis.
Alterd of late a little.

Fred.
Vertuous Lady,
I cannot chuse but pittie her, and accuse
Pisano's levitie.

Pis.
Wo'd hee were come backe,
I might ha finishd ere he went, and not
Delay'd his businesse much, two or three words,
And I had dispatch'd.

Am.
How sir? your language is
Another then you vse to speake, you looke not
With the same brow upon mee.

Cos.
Las sweet Lady,
But who shall accuse mee?

Pis.
Wee shall expect to long, Lady I am come
To render all my interest in your love,
And to demand my selfe agen, live happier,
In other choice Faire Amidea, tis
Some shame to say my hearts revolted.

Am.
Ha.

Pis.
Heeres witnesse, all is cancel'd betwixt us,
Nay and you weepe—
Farewell.

Am.
Hees gone.

Flo.
I am amazd.

Pis.
Now leade mee to my blessing.

Exit.
Flo.
Shall a long suite and speeding in his love
With the worlds notice, and a generall fame
Of contract too, just in the instant when
A marriage is expected, bee broke off
With infamy to our house.

Am.
Brother, if ever
You lov'd poore Amidea, let not this
Arive Sciarrhas eare thers danger in
His knowledge of it, this may be a triall
Of my affection

Flo.
A tryall; no
It shewd too like a truth

Am.
My teares intreate
Your silence



Flo.
You have
Power to command it, dry your eyes then,
Hee's return'd.

Enter Sciarrha.
Sci.
How now,
Weeping? where is Pisano, and his freinds?

Flo.
Their gon sir.

Sci.
Ha!

Am.
Guesse by my eyes, you may
Somthing of sorrow hath befalne, no sooner
You were beparted, cut some strange distemper.
Invaded him, wee might discerne a change
In's countenance, and though wee prayd him to
Repose with us, hee would straight back agen,
So with Frederico,
And signior Cosmo, he returnd.

Flo.
The alteration was strange and suddaine.

Sci.
Las noble gentleman—but come cleere up
Your face agen, wee hope it wonot last,
Looke bright agen I say, I ha given order—

Enter Gentleman.
Genu.
My Lord the Dukes already come.

Sci.
Remoue,
Good Amidea, and reserve thy person
To Crowne his entertainement, be not seene yet.

Exit Am.
Enter Duke Lorenzo, Alonzo, attendants.
Du.
Sciarrah, we are come to be your guest.

Sci.
Your highnes doth an honor to our house.

Du.
But wher's thy Sister, she must bid us welcome

Sci.
She is your graces handmaid,

Du.
For this night,
Let the whole world conspire to our delight.
Lorenzo—

Whisper.
Lor.
Sir bee confident—and perish.

Enter Morosa, and Oriana in the garden.
Mor.
You shu'd not rashly give away your heart,
Nor must you without me dispose your selfe,


Pray give accesse to none—yet if Pisano
Enquire, direct him to the garden, Cosmo
Is young, and promising, but while Lorenzo
Lives must expect no sun-shine.

Enter Pisano, Cosmo, Servant.
Pis.
Theres for thy paynes,
They are now at opportunity

Cos.
My Lord,
Doe you prepare the Mother, and let me close
With Oriana.

Pis.
What service can reward thee?

Cos.
Take occasion
To leave us private, this houre be
Propitious, winne but the Matron to you.

Pis.
She is prepard already

Cos.
Loose no time
Take the other walke.

Exit Pis. & Mor.
Ori.
My deare Cosmo:

Cos.
My best Oriana.

Ori.
You have bin too much absent I must chide you

Cos.
You cannot sweet, I would I knew which way.
To make thee angry, yes, that I might see
How well it would become thee, I doe feare
Thou art some Angell, and that sinne would bee
An argument, to mee, that thou wert mortall
I must suspect thy too much goodnesse else,
And leave thee for the fellowship of Saints,
I am to wicked.

Ori.
You will make mee angry.

Cos.
But you will love mee still, I feare.

Ori.
D'ee feare it?
I'st a misfortune?

Cos.
What?

Ori.
My love

Cos.
Your anger,
And yet the tother often times may carrie
An evill with it, wee may love to well
And thats a fault

Ori.
Not where the objects good.



Cos.
O yes: Alwayes beware of the extreames.

Ori.
What meane you? I affect none but my Cosmo,
Nor him with too much flame.

Cos.
If you should Lady, 'twere
Not nobly done.

Ori.
To love another?

Cos.
Yes,
If there be cause, that may be call'd a vertue:
For what have I to ingrosse the affection
Of any Lady, if she can discerne
A greater merit in some other man:
Wisedome forbid, but she command her smiles,
To warme and cherish him.

Ori.
So we should be inconstant.

Cos.
Why not, if our reason be
Convincd, that's no such fault as the world goes:
Let us examine all the creatures, reade
The booke of Nature through, and we shall finde
Nothing doth still the same, the stars do wander
And have their divers influence, the Elements
Shuffle into innumerable changes,
Our constitutions varie, Hearbs, and Trees
Admit their Frosts and Summer: and why then
Should our desires, that are so nimble, and
More subtill then the spirits in our blood,
Be such stayd things within us, and not share
Their naturall liberty, shall we admit a change
In smaller of things, and not allow it in
What most of all concernes us?

Ori.
What?

Cos.
Our Loves?

Ori.
Have you a suspition I am changd, and thus
Would schoole me for it, or shall I imagine
That you are alterd.

Cos.
Yes, I am, and therefore
Proclaime thy freedome, I doe love thee lesse,
To shew I love thee more.

Ori.
What riddle's this.

Cos.
I will explaine, upon maturity
Of Councell Oriana, I haue found


I am not worthy of thee, therefore come
To make thee satisfacton for my sinne
Of loving thee, by pointing out a way,
And person, will become thy affection better.

Ori.
You have a pretie humour.

Cos.
What dost thinke
Of brave Pisano, shall his merit pleade
Succession in thy chast thoughts?

Ori.
I doe know him.

Cos.
Thou canst not chuse, and I could study none
Worthy thy love but him.

Ori.
Tis very likely you would resigne then.

Cos.
I to honor thee,
His service will deserve thee at the best,
And richest value.

Ori.
Why it shall bee so.

Cos.
Nay but be serious, and declare me happy
That I may say, I have made thee just amends.
I will thank thee.

Ori.
Why sir I doe love him.

Cos.
Oh when did Cupid aime that golden shaft
But dost thou love him perfectly with a
Desire, when sacred rites of marriage
Are past, to meet him in thy bed, and call him
Thy husband?

Ori.
Why sir, did you ever thinke
I was so taken with your worth, and person,
I could not love another Lord as well?
By your favour, there be many as proper men,
And as deserving, you may save your plea,
And be assurd I need no lesson to
Direct my fancie, I did love Pisano,
Before, but for your sake, I meane to place him,
A great deale neerer, sure he does but jeast. You did love mee.

Cos.
Now by my heart. I love thee.

Cos.
This act shall crowne our storie Oriana,
Thou dost not know how much thou honorest me,
For hees not in the common list of freinds,


And he does love thee past imagination
Next his religion, he has plac'd the thought
Of Oriana, hee sleepes nothing else,
And I shall wake him into Heauen, to say
Thou hast consented to be his.

Ori.
Pray tell me:
But truely I beseech you, doe you wish
Pisano mine indeede? are you jealous,
And name him to accuse me?

Cos.
Not by goodnes,
But if there be a charme beyond thy innocence,
By that I would conjure thee Oriana,
Love him and make three happy, it shall be
My blisse to call you his, let me but o'wne
A servant in your memory.

Ori.
Unkinde,
And cruell Cosmo, dost thou thinke it possible,
I can love any but thy selfe? thou wilt
Undoe my heart for ever.

Enter Pisano and Morossa.
Mor.
You shall be
Ever most welcome, if I be her Mother,
Shee must declare obedience, Oriana

Cos.
Goe cheerefully, thy Mother calls, to him
Whose Orator I have beene, alas poore Lady,
I halfe repent me since she is so constant:
But a friends life weighes downe all other love;
Beside, I thus secure my fate, Lorenzo
Threatens my spring, he is my enemy.

Ori.
Youle not compell affection?

Pis.
No, but Court it
With honour, and religion, thus invite it.

Mor.
I shall forget the nature of a Parent,
Unlesse you shew more softnesse, and regard
To what is urg'd, what promise could you make
To Cosmo without me? or if you had—

Cos.
Here Cosmo, doth give up all title to it,
I have no part in Oriana now.



Ori.
I've heard too much, doe with me what you please
I am all passive, nothing of my selfe,
But an obedience to unhappinesse.

Exit.
Cos.
Follow her Pisano.

Pis.
Th'art all friendship.

Cos.
Trace their warme steps, Virgins resolves are weake.
Leave not her eyes, untill you see day breake.

Exeunt.