 | The Traytor |  |
Actvs Tertivs.
Enter Depazzi and Rogero.Depazzi.
Rogero?
Ro.
My Lord.
Dep.
Make fast the Chamber-doore, stiffle the keyhole
and the crannies, I must discourse of secret matters, dost
thou smell nothing Rogero? ha?
Ro.
Smell? not any thing my Lord to offend my nostrill.
Dep.
Come hither, what do the people talke abroad of me?
Answer me justly, and to the point what doe they say?
Ro.
Faith my Lord, they say that you are—
Dep.
They lie, I am not, they are a lousie impudent multitude,
a many-headed, and many horned generation, to say
that I am—
Ro.
A noble gentleman, a just and discreete Lord, and
one that deserv'd to have his honours without money.
Dep.
Oh is that it? I thought the rable would have sayd, I
had beene a Traytor, I am halfe mad certainly ere since I consented
to Lorenzo, tis a very hard condition, that a man must
loose his head to recompence the procuring of his honours:
what if I discover him to the Duke, ten to one, if Lorenzo
come but to speake, his grace wonot ha the grace to beleeve
me and then I runne the hazard to be throwne out of all atother
side: tis safest to be a Traytor, hum, who is that you
whisperd to?
Ro.
I whisper?
Dep.
Marry did you sirra.
Ro.
Not I good faith my Lord.
Sirra, sirra, sirra, I smell a Rat behinde the hangings?
Here's no body, ha? are there no Trunkes to convey secret
voices?
Ro.
Your Lordship has a paire on.
Dep.
I doe not like that face i'th arras, a my conscience hee
points at me, a pox upon this treason, I have no stomack too't, I
do see my selfe upon a Scaffold, making a pittiful speech already,
I shall ha my head cut off, seaven yeares agoe I layd my head
upon a wager I remember, and lost it; let me see, it shall be so,
tis good policie to be arm'd, Rogero, imagine I were a Traytor.
Ro.
How sir?
Dep.
I but say imagine, we may put the case, and that I were
apprehended for a Traytor.
Ro.
Heaven defend.
Dep.
Heaven has somthing else to doe, then to defend Traytors:
I say, Imagine I were brought to the barre.
Ro.
Good my Lord, you brought to the barre?
Dep.
I will beate you, if you wonot imagine at my bidding:
I say, suppose I now were at the barre to answere for my life.
Ro.
Well sir.
Dep.
Well sir, that's as it happens, you must imagine I will
answere the best I can for my selfe, conceive I prithee, that these
chaires were Iudges most grave and venerable beards and faces
at my arraignement, and that thy selfe wert in the name of the
Duke and state to accuse me what couldst thou say to me?
Ro.
I accuse your good honour? for what I beseech you?
Dep.
For high Treason you blockehead.
Ro.
I must be acquainted with some particulars first.
Dep.
Masse thou saiest right: why imagine, d'ee heare? you
must but imagine, that some great man had a conspiracy against
the Dukes person, and that I being an honest Lord, and
one of this great mans friends, had beene drawne in, for that's
the plaine truth on't, twas against my will, but that's all
one: Well, thou understandst mee, shew thy wit Rogero,
scratch thy nimble pericranium, and thunder out my accusation
ex tempore: Here I stand Signior Depazzi, ready to answer
the inditement.
Ro.
Good my Lord it will not become me, being your humble servant.
Dep.
Humble Coxcombe, is't not for my good? I say, accuse
me, bring it home, jerke me soundly to the quicke Rogero,
and the divell take thee if thou bee'st not malicious,
Ro.
Why then have at you, first Signior Depazzi, thou art
indicted of high Treason, hold up thy hand, guiltie, or not
guilty?
Dep.
Very good.
Ro.
Nay, very bad sir, answer I say, guiltie or not guiltie?
Dep.
Not guiltie.
Ro.
Tis your best course to say so, well imagine
I rise up the Duke's most learned in the Lawes, and his nimble
tongu'd Orator, have at your Signior.
Dep.
Come, come on sir, here I stand.
Ro.
I will prove thou liest in thy throate, if thou deniest thy
Treason, and so I addresse my selfe to the most vnderstanding
seates of Justice: most wise, most honourable, and most incorrupt
Judges, sleepe not I beseech you, my place hath call'd
me to plead in the behalfe of my Prince and Countrie against
this notable, this pernicious, and impudent Traitor, who hath
plotted and contrived such high, hainous, and horrible treasons
as no Age nor Historie hath ever mention'd the like. Here hee
stands, whose birth I will not touch, because its altogether unknowne
who begot him: He was brought up among the smal
wares in the Cittie, became rich by sinister and indirect practises,
married a Merchants wife at adventures, and was soone
after advanc'd to be a Head-officer.
Dep.
Why you rascall.
Ro.
Peace sirra, peace, nay your Lordships shall finde him
very audacious: This fellow not content to have his branches
spread within the Cittie, I speake it to his face, let him denie
it, was afterward by the corruption of his confederate, and the
meere grace of his highnesse raised to honour, received infinite
favours from his Prince of blessed memorie, yet like a
wretch, a villaine, a viper, a Rat of Nilus, he hath practised
Treasons against the sacred person of the Duke, for which he deserveth
not onely to die, but also to suffer tortures, whips, racks,
strapadoes, wheeles, and all the fiery brazen bulls that can bee invented,
as I shall make it appeare to this honourable and illustrious
Court.
Dep.
This rogues transported.
Ro.
With all my heart I obey your Lordships—thus then I
passe from these circumstances, and proceed to the principall
villanies that wee have to lay to his charge. Imprimis
to poyson his highnes hunting saddle.
Dep.
Did I?
Ro.
Do not interrupt mee varlet I will proove it, his hunting
saddle, and woe shall be unto thy breech therefore, and finding
this serpentive treason broken in the shell, doe but lend your
reverend eares to his next designes I will cut em off presently.
This irreligious nay Atheistical Traitor, did with his owne hands
poyson the Dukes prayer booke, oh impiety! and had his highnes
as in former times, hee accustomed but pray'd once in a month,
which by speciall grace hee omitted, how fatall had it beene
to Florence? but as by justice his excellence did then, and by his
owne want of devotion, prevent this assasinates purpose, so we
hope in his owne discretion, and the councell of his state, hee
will take heed how he prayes hereafter while hee lives, to which
every true subject will say Amen.
Dep.
May it please your honors—
Ro.
Thou impudent brazen fac'd Traitor, wilt thou deny it?
more over, and like your good Lordships, hee hath for this fortnight
or three weekes before his apprehension, walk'd up and
downe the Court with a case of pistols charg'd wherewith, as he
partly confessed, hee intended to send the Duke to heaven with
a powder.
Dep.
This rogue will undoe the Divell at inuention, may it
please this honorable—
Ro.
These are but sprinklings of his treason.
Dep.
Will you justifie this? did I any of these things you
tadpole?
Ro.
Hold your selfe contented my Lord, he that is brought
to the barren in case of treason, must looke to have more objected
then hee can answere, or any man is able to justifie.
Dep.
I confesse and please your good Lordships.
Ro.
Marke, hee will confesse.
Dep.
Thats the the way to be sent of a headles errand indeed
I confesse that I never intēded any treasō to his highnes, nor ever
sought the princes life, true it is, that I heard of a conpiracie.
Ro.
That that my Lord hath overthrowne him, he saieth hee
never sought the princes life, ergo he sought his death, besides he
hath heard of treason, now he that heareth and discovereth not is
accessaries, ergo hee is a principall, and beeing a principal Traitor,
hee deserveth condemnation.
Dep.
Shall I not speake?
Ro.
No, traitors must not be sufferd to speake, for when they
have leave, they have liberty, and hee that is a Traitor deserveth
to bee close Prisoner.
Dep.
All that this fellow hath vtterd, is false and forgd, abhominable
lyes.
Ro.
I will speake truth, and I will be heard, and no man else
in this place
Dep.
I never dre'mt of a hunting saddle, nor never had so much
as a thought of any prayer booke.
Ro.
You sit heare to do justice, I speak for the Duke and the
safety of the common wealth.
Dep.
As for pistols, tis well knowne I could never indure the
report one e'm, I defie powder and shot as I doe him that accuseth
mee.
Ro.
I defie al the world that wil heare a Traitor speak, for himselfe,
tis against the Law which provids that no man shal defend
treason, and he that speakes for himselfe being a Traitor, doth defend
his treason, thou art a Capitall obstreporous malefactor.
Dep.
Thou art a madman.
Ro.
Go to you have playd the foole too much.
Dep.
Thou continual motion cease, a pox upon thee hold thy tongue.
Ro.
The pox wonot serve your turne.
Dep.
Why then this shall.
Beates him.
Ro.
Hold, hold good my Lord, I am sensible, I ha done, imagine
I ha done, I but obeyd your Lordship, whose batoone I finde
stronger then my imagination, my Lord you will answer this to
stricke i'th Court thus?
Dep.
I Am as wearie—harke Rogero
Knockes
one knocks, see, see thers to make thee amends see good Rogero,
and say nothing pray heaven it be no pursevant.
Enter Petruchio with a Letter.
Ro.
Petruchio my Lord, Pisanoes Secretary.
Dep.
But Lorenzoes Engine a very knave,
Pet.
My very good Lord.
Dep.
What's here? it can be no goodnesse:
My Lord I would not have you goe to bed to night, he wonot
let me sleepe now, I dream't as much, something will be done to
give Florence liberty: In the depth of night you may cunningly
disperse some rumours in the Citty, that the Duke is dead,
the people must be distracted, in the common fright be not you
wanting in your person to assist their feares, and speake well of
Lorenzo, speake well of the divell: my humble servie to your
Lord, and say he has power to command me in all things.
Pet.
My very good Lord.
Dep.
No matter and you were both hang'd, Rogero, shew
him the Wine-sellar: let me see, I must report the Dukes death,
I cannot abide this word Death, yet he desires mee but to report
it, hum, if it be false, why so much the better; there will
be the lesse harme in't, if it should prove true, they will beleeve
me another time: Well I will drinke my selfe halfe drunke,
and be fortified.
Exeunt.
Enter Duke, Amidea, Lorenzo, Sciarrha, Florio, &c.
Du.
Sciarrha, you exceede in entertainment,
Banquet our eyes too.
Lo.
He will feast all Senses.
Sci.
Onely a toy my Lord, I cannot cal't,
A maske, not worthy of this presence, yet
It speakes the freedome of my heart, and gratitude
For this great honour.
Du.
Amidea must sit neere us.
Sci.
Lords your places, 'twonot be
Worth halfe this ceremonie, let 'em begin.
Enter Lust richly apparreld, the pleasures attending.
Du.
Whose the presenter?
Sci.
Lust sir, pray observe:
Lust.
Now let Lust possesse the throne
Of Love, and rule in hearts alone:
You sweete tempters to my Sinne,
Beauty, smiles, and kisses winne
Vpon fraile mortals, let them know
There is no happinesse, but you
Each shaft have his golden head:
Call no Love, delude men still,
Through the flesh, their spirits kill,
Nor spend all your art to take
Common pesons, greatnesse make
By your potent charmes to bee
Subjects unto hell and mee,
Inflame but Kings with loose desire,
Yee soone set all the world on fire.
Enter a young man in rich habit and Crownd.
Du.
Whats hee?
Sci.
A wild young man that followes lust,
He has too much blood it seemes.
Du.
Why lookes hee backe?
Sci.
There is a thing cald death that followes him
With a large traine of furies, but the Syrens
Of lust make him secure, and now the hagge
Embraces him, and circles him with pleasures,
The harpyes meane to dance too, hang his conscience
It whines too much.
Lo.
This is too plaine.
Sci.
Hee does not tremble yet,
By an by sir you shall see all his tormentors
Joyne with 'em, ther's the sport on't.
Lo.
Mee thinks they
Should have beene first for th'antimaske.
Lo.
Oh no!
In hell they doe not stand upon the methode
As wee at Court, the ground maske and the glorie
Begin the revells, Sister you doe ill
To keepe the Duke in talke, he cannot see
The divell for you, and the whipps: does not
That deaths head looke most, tēptingly? the wormes
Have kist the lips off.
The furies joyne in the dance, and in the end carries the young man away.
How does your highnesse like this dance?
Du.
My eyes so feasted here, I did not marke it,
Sci.
Oh the Lethargy
Of Princes! we ha kept you Sir from bed:
More lights.
Du.
Good night to all, to you the best:
Sciarrha binde us ever by performance.
Sci.
We are all yours.
Du.
And Florence thine, once more—
Brightest of Ladies.
Lo.
You are firme.
Sci.
Suspect not.
Exeunt all, but Amidea and Florio.
Flo.
I doe not like my brothers Morall Maske,
The Duke himselfe was personated, I
Wonder it did not startle him.
Am.
I hope
Sciarrha does not meane so ill as that
Did promise, he's return'd: his lookes are full.
Enter Sciarrha.
Of threatning.
Sci.
Amidea, goe not to bed,
And yet no matter, I can doo't alone:
Take both your rest, and in your prayers commend
The Duke to Heaven, tis charity; has made
His will already, and bequeathd his body
To you Sister, pitty his soule for't, tis now
Within few minutes of departing.
Am.
How?
Sci.
Why this way I must helpe him in his groanes
To bring his flesh a bed.
Am.
You wonot kill him?
Sci.
I am not of your minde.
Am.
I know you cannot.
Sci.
You are not studied so perfect in
His destiny I hope; I will endeavour—
Am.
To kill your Prince?
Flo.
What here?
Sci.
No, in his Chamber.
Am.
Shall it be read in Stories of our Florence,
Sciarrha first did staine his family
With such a Treason?
Flo.
Was he not invited?
Sci.
Yes, by his lust.
And in your crowned tables,
And Hospitality will you murder him?
Sci.
Yes, and the reason wherefore he was murderd,
Shall justifie the deed to all posterity,
He came to wrong my Sister.
Flo.
Wanton heate,
Let youthfull blood excuse him.
Sci.
So it must.
Flo.
Mistake me not, oh thinke but who he is,
The Duke, that word must needs awake your piety.
Am.
How will good men in this remembrance
Abhorre your cruelty, that send to hell
One with the weight of all his sinnes upon him.
Sci.
It is too late to coole with argument
My incensed blood, will you goe dally with him,
And let him bord your pinace: I hagon
So farre in promise, if you claspe not with him,
It will be dangerous if he out-live
This night.
Am.
I ha thought on't, send him to my bed.
Sc.
Ha?
Am.
Doe not question what I purpose, heaven
Witnesse to my chast thoughts.
Sci.
Wot thou trust him?
Am.
I will doe much sir, to preserve his life,
And your innocence: be not you suspectfull
At the worst, you can but respite your revenge.
Sci.
Dost thou not feare unhappy Lucresse chance,
Or wretched Philomels dishonour?
Am.
No:
Give me his life, and send your wanton to me;
Ile to my Chamber, feare me not Sciarrha,
Have not one thought so bad, I sha'not prosper;
Virgins in heaven will suffer with me.
Exit Am. & Flo.
Flo.
Trust her?
Sci.
Tis but deferring of my justice,
Shee wonot kill him sure: draw on her soule
The guilt shee hates in mine, if shee doe yeeld
To the hot encounter: ha? twill be just,
That both their hearts weepe blood, to purge their lust.
Exit.
Flo.
My Ponyard?
Ami.
I've no blacke intent
To stain't with any blood.
Flo.
Take it, I know, thou art my vertuous Sister,
It were wickednesse to doubt thy purpose
Or the event.
Ami.
Now leave me.
Flo.
Thou hast a guard of Angels.
Ami.
They are comming.
Enter Sciarrha & Duke.
Sci.
Looke, there she is sir, you know how to undresse her.
Du.
Dearest Sciarrha.
Sci.
To your recreation, here
Ile obscure my selfe, Florio? tis well.
Withdrawes behind the hangings.
Du.
Lady you know me?
Am.
Yes my Prince.
Du.
I was so,
Till I saw thee, but I gave up that title,
A conquest to thy beauty, which among
Her other wonders hath created me
A subject and servant, and I shall
Be happier to be receiv'd yours by
One of those names then Duke of Tuscany.
Am.
Oh take your selfe agen, use your greatnes
To make the hearts of Florence bow to you,
And pay their duties thus.
Du.
Rise Amidea,
And since you have given my power backe, it will
Become me to command.
Am.
And me to obey.
Du.
I see thy noble brother hath bin faithfull
To my desires, he has prepar'd thee with
A storie of my love, which thou rewardst
With too much humblenesse: thou hast a quarrell,
And a just one with thy Stars, that did not make thee
A Princesse Amidea, yet th'art greater,
And borne to justifie unto these times
A Queene of Love, Venus was but thy figure,
And all her graces prophesies of thine,
To make our last age best; I could dwell ever
To offer on this Altar of thy lip,
Kisses her often.
Myriads of flaming kisses with a cloude
Of sighes breathd from my heart,
Which by the oblation would increase his stocke,
To make my pay eternall.
Am.
What meane you?
Du.
That question is propounded timely, hadst
Not interrupted me, I should ha lost
My selfe upon thy lips, and quite forgot
There is a blisse beyond it, which I came for:
Let others satisfie themselves to reade
The wonders in thy face, make proud their eye,
By seeing thine, turne statues at thy voice,
And thinke they never fixe enough to heare thee.
A man halfe dead with famine, would wish here
To feed on smiles, of which the least hath power
To call an Anchorite from his prayers, tempt Saints
To wish their bodies on, thou dost with ease
Captivate Kings with every beame, and maist
Lead them like prisoners round about the world,
Proud of such golden chaines; this were enough,
Had not my Fate provided more, to make me
Beleeve my selfe immortall in thy touches,
Come to thy bed, transforme me there to happinesse;
Ile laugh at all the fables of the gods,
And teach our Poets after I know thee,
To write the true Elizium.
Am.
Good my Lord,
I understand you not, and yet I feare
You doe not meane well, if you have brought with you
A sinfull purpose which I may suspect.
Du.
Why Lady, what doe you imagine I
Came hither for?
Am.
I know not.
Du.
How? is't come to that?
Your brother gave you more.
Desirous of the sport, and brought me hither
Ripe for your dalliance, did you not expect me?
Yes.
Du.
And to what other purpose?
Am.
To tell you that you are not vertuous.
Du.
I'm of your minde.
Am.
But I am not so wicked
To bee of yours: oh thinke but who you are,
Your title speakes you neerest heaven, and points
You out a glorious raigne among the Angels,
Doe not depose your selfe of one, and bee
Of the other disin'herited.
Du.
I would
Your brother heard you, prethee doe not wast
This tedious divinity, I am
Resolvd to grapple with you.
Am.
Keepe off.
Shewes the Ponyard.
Du.
Ha?
Turnd Amazon.
Am.
Prince, come not to neere mee.
For by my honor, since you haue lost your owne,
Although I bow in dutie to your person,
I hate your black thoughts, tempt not my just hand
With violent approach, I dare, and will
Doe that will greeve you, if you have a soule.
Du.
Thou dar'st not kill mee.
Am.
True, but I dare die.
Du.
Bee thy owne murderer?
Am.
Rather then you should be my ravisher.
Du.
Thou can'st not be so mercilesse, tis lesse sin
To be unchast, I am thy Prince, I prethee
Throw by that cruell weapon, let our warre
Be soft embraces, shooting amorous smiles,
Kill and restore each other with a kisse,
I know thou canst not bee unkinde so long,
Then I command thee.
Am.
I must not obey
To be your strumpet, though my hand be unskilfull,
I shall soone finde my heart.
Du.
Ile not beleeve—
Am.
Let this deserve your faith, I dare be just,
Shee wounds her arme.
This crimson river issuing from my arme.
Du.
Hold.
Am.
Never, it shall flow, and if this channell
And after that another, and not pittie
The murmuring streame, till through a prodigal wound
I have draind the fountaine: this doth weepe for you,
And shall extoll my death, if it may teach
You to correct your blood.
Du.
There's so much gone
From mee I coole apace, this action
Hath shot an ague through me; Amidea,
Pitty thy selfe.
Am.
Not, till you sweare repentance;
I doe not faint yet, tis somewhat about,
But I can finde a neerer way, this does it.
Du.
Containe, I am sorry, sorry from my soule,
Trust me, I doe bleed inward, Amidea
Can answere all thy drops: oh pardon mee,
Thou faintst already, dost not? I am fearefull,
The Phœnix with her wings, when shee is dying
Can fanne her ashes into another life:
But when they breath more sweete then all the spice
That helps the others funerall, returnes
To heaven, the world must be eternall looser:
Looke to thy wound.
Am.
May I beleeve you sir?
Du.
I dare not thinke awry, agen I aske
Forgivenesse, in thy innocence I see
My owne deformitie.
Enter Sciarrha, hastily embraceth Amidea,
Enter Florio.
Sci.
Now a thousand blessings
Reward thy goodnesse; thou deservst a statue,
A tall one which should reach above the clouds.
Justle the moone, that people a farre off
Beholding it, may be invited hither
In hope to climbe to heaven by't, but apply
Betimes unto thy wound; Florio assist her.
Ex. Am. & Flo.
And now my Lord—
Sciarrah Ile begin to bee thy Lord,
I brought intentions of dishonor to thee,
And thy faire sister, but I am reconcil'd
To vertue, and will studie how to satisfie
For you and Florence.
Sci.
You will be more precious,
Then had you never fallen, I am all joy
in your conversion.
Sci.
Lorenzo? I think he has not said his prayers yet,
But—
Du.
What?
Sci.
I cannot tel, may be, he does not use it.
Du.
How?
Sci.
My Lord, you now are lovely,
Twere better you'd forget him, hee's not right
At heart I feare.
Du.
Feare nothing.
Sci.
To be plaine,
You cherrish your disease in him, and are
Not safe while hee is neare you.
Du.
Doe not envie him.
Sci.
Then I must tell you sir he is a Traitor,
Within my knowledge hath conspird your death.
Du.
With whom?
Sci.
With mee, I should ha kild you sir
This night, and every mineut hee expects
To heare you numberd with the dead, I can
Demonstrate this, your pardon, but in truth,
The injuries you meant us were severe,
And he with as much violence did urge em
To your destruction, but your pietie
Hath charm'd my purpose, and I looke uppon you
With new obedience.
Enter Florio.
Du.
Possible.
Sci.
Wee wonot shift the scene till you beleeve it,
Florio, intreate my Lord Lorenzo hither,
Step but but behinde the arras, and your eare
Shall tell you who's the greatest Traitor living,
Observe but when I tell him, you are slaine,
Preserver, blesse my arme that in your blood,
Hath given our groning state a libertie:
Then trust Sciarrha, but obserue, I heere e'm
Enter Lorenzo.
Lo.
Whom talkd he too?
Sci.
Tis done—
Lo.
What good Sciarrha?
Sci.
The Duke is dead.
Lo.
Wee are not left so miserable,
Heaven is more kinde to Florence.
Sci.
With this hand
I made a passage for his soule.
Lo.
Defend
Omnipotence, what murder'd? and by noble
Sciarrha? how my eare abuses me!
Sci.
Did not wee plot it too?
Lo.
How wee? collect,
I feare you are not well: pray tell mee why
You talke thus? wher's the Duke? he hath a guard,
An armie of heaven about him; who in Florence,
Dares be so blacke a divell to attempt
His death.
Sci.
This is fine cunning, why that diuell is
Lorenzo, if hee dars deny it, wee are in private,
You need appeare no stranger to that's done
By your direction.
Lo.
I in the practice?
Then let me creepe into the earth, and rise
A monster to affright man-kinde, Sciarrha,
I must abhorre thee for it, oh my Prince!
My dearest kinsman, may thy hand rot off,
Treason, treason.
Sci.
Then my sword shall fetch
As they draw, the Duke interposes.
another witnesse in thy heart
Du.
Hold.
Lo.
Tush, let him come,
My royall Lord, nay, let him kill mee now,
Ive so much joy and peace about mee, twere
Du.
Put up I say.
Sci.
My Lord, we are both cozend:
That very smile's a Traitor.
Du.
Come, be calme:
You are too passionate Sciarrha, and
Mistooke Lorenzo.
Lo.
But I hold him noble:
I see hee made this triall of my faith,
And I forgive him.
Du.
Yee shall be friends, you shall I say.
Enter Cosmo and Alonzo.
Cos.
The Duke—
Alon.
Where's the Duke?
Cos.
My Lord, we are blest to see you safe, report
Hath frighted all the Cittie with your death:
People forsake their beds, and seeking how
To be inform'd, increase the wretched tumult.
Alon.
There's nothing but confusion: all men tremble
As if some generall fire invaded Florence.
Sci.
Have comfort sir.
Du.
Whats to be done?
Lo.
Depazzi has remembred,
My Lord there is no safety for the State,
Unlesse you personally appease 'em.
Du.
How?
Lo.
I hope theile teare him, would he were dead any way.
Alon.
He hath counselld well.
Cos.
Your presence onely hath the power to charme'em.
Du.
I feare their rage: where is our Guard?
Alonzo, haste afore, proclaime our pardon,
And that we live to give the offenders mercy.
Why are we borne to greatnesse, mockt with State,
When every tumult staggers our proud fate?
Sci.
Our quarrell is deferd Sir.
Exeunt.
| The Traytor | |