 | The Royall Master |  |
The third Act.
Duke and Riviero.Duke.
Tis thy old quarrel gainst Montalto makes
Thee incredulous, I dare beleeve he loves
Theodosia.
Rivi.
Tis not that I question Sir,
But that part which concernes her love to him
Sounds like a plot upon your nature, to
Secure his owne ambition.
Duke.
Why the Princesse
May love; as great a heart has beene made stoope.
Rivi.
Your grace should else in vaine court her your selfe
And late your highnesse thought shee meet your person
A faire designe of love, with all the soft
Behaviour of a Princesse.
Duke.
But tis not
Impossible a Lady should dissemble.
Rivi.
Allow her but the honour she was borne with,
And sheel'e not staine her blood so much.
Duke.
But love
Must be obeyed, and prepossession
Of hearts is a lewd thing to wrastle with;
I make it my owne case, and if I lov'd
Another Lady better then the Princesse,
As every man's not proofe against all beauty,
I thinke I should be constant too it would
Be something to remove me.
Rivi.
Then the King.
He knowes not; & I have bound my selfe in honour
Not to betray, if they be decreed
To make a marriage; a soft destiny
Attend their loves.
Rivi.
There is some mystery;
But will you rest and take for granted shee
Does love Montalto; if it be a truth
Y'are in the same condition when shee
Confirmes it.
Duke.
Tis not good to be busie
In search of these unwelcome certainties;
There's hope while things are clouded in suspition.
Rivi.
But so your jealousie may wound her honour,
Which you may cure by knowledge.
Duke.
I will thinke on't;
Meane time let this dwell in that honest silence
You have possest; there is another secret
May follow.
Rivi.
You must challenge my whole bosome,
And I am confident your highnesse will
Stere all your resolutions by honour,
Which in a Prince is sacred.
Enter Servant.
Ser.
Sir, the Lord
Montalto is comming up.
Duke.
Then try your art upon him,
And informe your selfe, Ile take
My time to appeare.
Exit Duke.
Enter Montalto.
Rivi.
I obey
My honour'd Lord.
Mon.
Most noble Philberto,
Where is the Duke?
Rivi.
If youle but excuse a few minuts
Mont.
Tis
My duty to attend.
Rivi.
How is it with the Princesse my good Lord?
Mont.
The Princesse? shee is in health; why this to me;
I must be resolute.
Rivi.
I aske, because
His grace intends a present visit to her,
And was but now in mention of your Lordship
To beare him company.
Mont.
I like not that;
He knowes he may command my services.
Rivi.
He will deserve your love; pray my Lord tell me,
And let us be plaine breasted; you injoy
The King, as I, but with lesse stocke of merit,
The favour of his excellence; how affect you
The present state of things; wilt be a match?
There is loud expectation in the world,
And after all, my Master's fond to have it
Proceede; to these, I am of opinion
Theres no retreating now without dishonour;
Yet as I am Philiberto I much pittie
He should through any wound to your affection
Perfect his love.
Mont.
He has told you then the secret,
And not to waste more language, I collect
From what you have exprest, he does resolve
To destroy me; Montalto must be trod on.
Rivi.
Not so my Lord.
Mont.
Yes, and my heart the ascent,
To his Hymeneall altar, which must be
Made crimson with the blood of a true lover;
His will be obey'd, Theodosia shall see
To advance her, Montalto will goe smiling
To his sacrifice, and after many prayers,
That shee may live the darling of his heart,
Ile change my acquaintance of this world to be
At peace in my owne ashes.
Rivi.
You will not
Commit a violence upon your selfe?
Mont.
I sha not neede; the thought of her will kill me
With as much silence as I goe to sleepe;
Remove it selfe like a faire apparition
That vanishes to th'eye, and with lesse noise
Then a calme Summers evening; but when I
Am dead, tis not impossible, some may
Report Theodosia was but ravish'd from me;
Feare of a brothers anger, and the tricke
Of polliticke states, that marry to knit power
Not hearts, did force her to Herares armes,
Whilst I, torne from the branch where I once grew,
Travell I know not whether in the aire.
Rivi.
I begin
To thinke him worth some pitty.
Mont.
Into what
Vaine thing would the severe apprehension
Of greefe transforme us? coward, let the Duke
Move with all amorous haste to his delight,
And glory in the hope of his faire bride,
Mine by the gift of heaven, and hearts; but all
My flowers grow dully on their stalkes, and wither;
Let her gay Paranimphs with rosie Chaplets,
Which will take all their colour from her blush,
Attend on Theodosia to the Temple,
While as they goe, no rude winde shall be heard,
But so much breath of heaven as gently may
Lifting their loose haire up, whisper my wrong
To every Virgins eare; let them be married,
Knit hands, and plight a ceremonious faith;
Let all the triumphs waste; let them be wasted,
And night it selfe brib'd with a thousand formes
Of mirth and Revells, till the night grow faint
And pale with watching,
Invite to bed; yet there he shall enjoy
But Theodosiaes body, and not that
As his faire thoughts expect, perhaps the conquest
Of one whom he loved better.
Exit Montal.
Enter Duke.
Rivi.
How was that.
Now shall I trust him? if my sense mistake not
Theodosia may not be a Virgin.
Rivi.
Twas
His bold conclusion.
Duke.
Where is now the honour
You talke of; durst Montalto charge her with
This staine, without his conscience to assure it.
Rivi.
Yes, and to me this renders him the more
To be suspected and I am so farre
From thinking shee affects Montalto, that
I am convinc'd he loves her not; can he
Have any noble thought of Theodosia,
That dares traduce her honour; thinke o'that;
And can revenge in any lover be
A reason to wound a Ladies fame; it tasts
Of ranke injustice, and some other end
Time will discover; and yet your grace is bound
To have his accusation confirm'd,
Or hant this spotted panther to his ruine,
Whose breath is onely sweete to poyson vertue.
Duke.
What I resolve inquire not.
Exit Duke.
Rivi.
I see through
Montaltoes soule, and have beene so long tame
In my owne sufferings; but this will make
Him ripe for punishment; Andrugio and
My sonne.
Enter Andrugio, Octavio.
Octav.
I cannot with the wings of duty
Fly swift enough to prostrate my obedience
And welcome from a long supposed death,
My honourd father.
Rivi.
Then I must appeare so.
Andr.
And let me give a sonne up to your blessing
Worthy your best prayers, and embrace; twas time
To bring you acquainted; he had else this night
Contriv'd Montaltoes tragedie at a Banquet,
For your revenge his active thoughts I could not
Counsell no longer patience.
Thou hast but
Prevented me Octavio; I was
Weary of my concealement.
Octav.
But my joyes are wilde,
And will I feare, transport me.
Rivi.
My best friend,
And my owne spirited boy, feare not Montalto;
Hee's now upon a precipice; his fate
Stoopes with the glorious burden of his pride.
Things may be worth our counsell; we shall see
This prodigie that would be held a Starre,
An I did so fright us with his streaming haire,
Drop like a Comet, and be lost i'th aire.
Exeunt.
Montalto, Theodosia.
Mont.
Ist possible the day should be so old,
And not a visite from the Duke.
Theo.
While he
Injoyes health, I shall easily forgive
A little ceremony.
Mont.
And a lover;
Your grace must chide him; other men may have
Excuse for their neglect of time, but he
That loves deserves no pardon.
Theod.
Iudge with charity
My Lord; the case may be your owne; you would
Thinke her a cruell mistresse, that should doome
Your life to exile, for not payment of
One ceremonious visite.
Mont.
Not where such
Perfection were to ingage my service Madam;
Pardon the bold comparison; death were not
Enough to punish that rude thought that could
Start from your bright Idea; or converse
With praters that did not first concerne your excellence:
I would not be ambitious of a blessing
But from reflex of yours.
Theo.
You would expresse
A most officious servant to that Lady
And I shall make no such severe conditions.
Mon.
If he doe love you Madam, that will teach him
Above what ceremony prescribes to honour you.
Theo.
If he doe love.
Mont.
Your graces pardon; I
Speake from an honest freedome taken from
The assurance of your goodnesse, that know better
How to distinguish truth; I am not judge
Of his breast Madam.
Theo.
I suppose you are not.
Mont.
And yet being a man another way
Conclude his passions are but such as have
Beene read in humane nature.
Theo.
What inferre you
From hence my Lord?
Mont.
Nothing but that a Prince
May be no Saint in love.
Theo.
Howe's that?
Mont.
Twas in my feare I should displease.
Theo.
Your will.
Mont.
Not for the Empire of the world; I shall
Repent I live with your suspition
Vpon my humbl'd soule.
Theo.
Pray Sir be free
Touching the Duke; I must know all; what ist
Makes him no Saint.
Mont.
Madam he is not dead,
And in his life I see no miracles.
Theo.
You talk'd of love.
Mont.
No miracles of love;
He loves as other men that have profest
Devotion to a mistresse—but
Theo.
What? speake
I charge thee by the memory of what
Thou dost affect most.
Mont.
Though it wound my selfe
Be arm'd and heare it; how I blush within me,
His heart, and all his active thoughts are plac'd.
Theo.
On whom?
Mont.
On Domitilla.
Theo.
Ha.
Mont.
I did observe 'em Madam, at her mothers house,
Where we were lately feasted after hunting,
How strangely he was taken, how his eyes
Did wanton with her face, and on her haire
Tie many golden knots, to keepe love chainde;
But these are but suspitions; he since
Confest to me in hope to winne me to
Negotiate his affaire, how at first sight
He tooke in desperate flames, and that shee rules
The intelligence of his soule; I heare the King
Hath sent for her to Court, which must give Madam
A dangerous opportunity to actuate
His ends with your dishonour; I was unwilling
To speake this knowledge of his hasty change,
But all my bonds of piety and faith
Would have beene forfeit into a long silence.
Theo.
Shall I be thus affronted.
Mont.
We see Princes,
Whom we call gods on earth, in the affaires
Of love turne men agen.
Theo.
For Domitilla.
Mont.
That's the dishonour Madam, and infects
My braine to thinke on't, and as much beneath
Your grace in all the ornaments of soule
And person as shee is in blood, if my
Impartiall thoughts may take so bold commission
To judge betweene your beauties.
Theo.
Is it possible.
Mont.
Tis too certaine Madam; I should be
A villaine to accuse the Duke unjustly,
Or bring but shaddowes of a truth; for though
He be unworthy of your love that dares
Thus valew your perfections, below
Make you to rash in managing a cause,
On which depends your fame, compared to which
Ten thousand lives added to mine were nothing;
Observe him at next visit.
Theod.
Ile study thankes Sir.
Mont.
You pay me with a blessing, if my name
But live within your memory.
Theo.
This troubles me.
Exit Montalto.
Enter King and Guido.
King.
Are they both come to court?
Guid.
And in those lodgings were prepar'd.
King.
Tis well, and came they cheerefully?
Guid.
Yes Sir, but something
I nigh discerne like trouble, and by starts
In Domitilla; but they are pleas'd with their
Remove, and waite all your commands.
King.
So leave us;
Exit Guido.
Theodosia, whats the matter? art not well.
Theo.
Where's the Duke.
King.
I thought to have met him here.
Theod.
Is Domitilla come to Court?
King.
She is
By my command to waite on thee.
Theo.
To rivall me.
Exit.
King.
Howes that?
I meant her a wife for good Montalto,
As the reward of his just services;
He knowes it not, as he is ignorant
For whom I have prepar'd her; Rivall? strange
I must know more of this; shee is in nature
Too apprehensive; for although in love
Suspition to men a torment be,
There is no Fiend to womens jealousie.
Exit.
Domitilla, Bombo.
Bom.
You may doe what you will Madam, put me
Into fine clothes, and make an asse of me;
But should you wrap me in a Lyons skinne.
You have eares that will betray what beast you are.
Bom.
Pray Madam tell me in six words of sence,
What shall I doe here; Ile not see the King,
Though he have cunningly devis'd this tricke
Onely to bring me hither and betray me
To offices, make me at least an Idoll.
Dom.
Whats that?
Bom.
An Idoll in the Countrey I have read
A thing we call a worshipfull, a right worshipfull,
Descended from the house of the factotums,
Lord of the soile, and Cocke of his owne dunghill.
Dom.
You may be out of feare; yon cannot reade now,
Nor set your name to a warrant.
Bom.
All that's nothing;
Ignorance every day comes into fashion,
And no meane statesmen now when they doe write
Their names, doe for their honours so contrive it,
You can hardly know a nobleman from a marke.
Dom.
If you be an enemy to all preferment,
Your best way is to leave the world and turne
A lay Fryer.
Bom.
No I finde no such thing in my constitution;
Every man is not bound to be Religious;
Men of my bulke and bearing should not fast so;
I am not given by nature to drinke water,
Or lye without a shirt; I have cornes Madam,
And I would make lesse conscience to undoe
My Shoomaker, then walke on wodden Pantables.
I will indure to serve you still and dwell here,
So you conceale me from the King; tis not
That I doe owe his Majestie ill will;
I could indure him too upon condition
He would make nothing on me.
Dom.
Why he shall
Make nothing on thee take my word, or if
Thou hast a minde Ile pray him make thee lesse.
Bom.
No, I would be a midling Christian;
But what will you doe here your selfe; youle be in.
With whom dost thinke.
Bom.
And cast away your selfe
Vpon some pageant, one whose wit must be
Beholding to anothers Wooll to keepe it warme;
One that can dance and sing and wag his feather,
An artificiall Calfe carrier;
A youth that's sowed together by his Taylour,
And taken a peeces by his Surgeon.
Dom.
Why how now Secretary.
Bom.
I could say more.
Dom.
Is this wit naturall?
Bom.
You were best say
I got it here at Court; pray heaven I doe not
Loose what I brought; I had a holsome wit
I'th Countrey; aske the Parish and the Parson
For I kept company with those that reade
And learne wit now by the eare; if any slip from me,
As where there is a plenty some will out,
Here are so many wit catchers, a lost maidenhead
Is sooner found and set upon the shoulders
Of the right owner.
Dom.
I preethe tell me Bombo,
And tell me truth, doe not you thinke your selfe
After all this a foole?
Bom.
A foole; your servant Madam.
Dom.
Ile speake thou maist be the Kings foole.
Bom.
I thanke you,
I tell you Ile not see the King, or if I did,
Yes I looke like a foole, I could be angry,
But then you'd say I were a foole indeed.
Dom.
Be not so passionate.
Bom.
Wod I had beene a foole,
I would I had, for my owne sake I wish it,
I should not have beene tempted hither then,
By which I have indangered my good parts,
To State imployment, but Ile be wise enough,
He has not seene me yet nor shanot if
There be a witch in Naples, or a mist
But take your course, and I were at home agen.
Dom.
What then?
Bom.
I would live in the Sellar, the Wine Sellar.
Dom.
Tis your humility.
Bom.
There were some fortification to be made
Against the Court invasions, countermines
Of sand and Sacke, a man might thrust himselfe
Among the bottles, and defie the world,
Be drunke, and not be cal'd out of his sleepe
To goe Embassadour.
Enter Simphorosa.
Dom.
So, so, feare not,
Have a strong faith, and thou maist dye i'th countrey
For all this; here's my mother; let your care
Be now that none may interrupt us.
Bom.
I will doe any thing but see the King.
Exit
Dom.
With pardon Madam you seeme full of thought.
Sim.
I am studying Domitilla why the King
Should send for us to Court.
Dom.
Mother you cannot
Mention the King in any act of his
That is not glorious and like himselfe;
He is the great example of a King,
But richer in his soule then state.
Sim.
But why
To us this favour; to call us from those
Cold and obscure shades of a retirement
To plant us here neare his owne beames?
Dom.
He has some meaning in't.
Sim.
It tis yet darke to me.
Dom.
We sha'not staine his Court; his sister's but
A Lady of more distinction of birth;
Yet all that have beene Princes, came not to
Their state by a descent; the Heralds know
Some were not borne to purple and to scepters
That have beene Queenes; vertue has rais'd some,
And beauty has had many charmes to rule
Simp.
Whats all this Domitilla?
I hope you are not dreaming of a Queene;
Such wilde interpretation of the Kings
Favour to us cannot be made without
The forfeits of wits and duties which
Should teach us to containe our thoughts in their
Owne Spheare, and not to point them upon objects
Above our Levell.
Dom.
I Betray my selfe,
When I sayd beauty had a power to charme
A King; it might acquit me from suspition
Of any hope to apply them so ambitiously;
Youle grant it just to love the King.
Sim.
Our duties.
Dom.
And he may where he please place his affection.
Sim.
Leave that to her; it may concerne.
Dom.
And shee
Thats mark'd for so great honour should be mad
To quarrell with her kinde fate.
Sim.
What's all this
To thee?
Dom.
To me; why mother ist not possible
A Lady not much fairer then my selfe
May be a Queene; great Princes have eyes
Like other men, and I should sinne against
What heaven and nature have bestowed on me,
Should my fate smile to thinke my face would be
The barre to such preferment.
Sim.
Leaving this
Which is but mirth, I know since we are falne
Into discourse of love, what would you answer
To Lord Montalto if he came a wooing
And recommended by the King?
Dom.
I would
Eene recommend him to the King agen.
Sim.
Is not his favorite worth your love, if he
Descend to be your servant.
As a servant
He may be entertain'd, and were I Queene,
Perhaps he should be favorite to both;
And I would smile upon his services
In imitation of the King while he
Preserv'd his modest duty and his distance.
Sim.
My daughter is transported, sure you are
No Queene sweet Domitilla.
Dom.
Tis a truth,
Nor is Montolto yet my favorite.
Sim.
I hope shee's not so miserable to affect
The King, by whose directions I prepare
Her for Montalto.
Enter Bombo.
Bom.
A sprig of the Nobility cal'd Octavio
Desires accesse.
Dom.
Admit him.
Sim.
I must let this passion coole and leave her.
Enter Octavio.
Octav.
Welcome to Court; why so; this sphere becomes you,
Or rather it takes ornament from you;
Now Domitilla shines indeede; your presence
Doth throw new beames about the Pallace Madam;
Before we look'd as we had lost our genius.
Dom.
You came not from the King with any message.
Octav.
I made this hast to tender my owne service.
Dom.
You have no other suite to me?
Octav.
Yes Madam.
Dom.
Speake it.
Octav.
And Ile not wander much about; shall I
Be admitted a young lover?
Dom.
Men must not love till they be one & twenty,
They will be mad before they come to age else.
Octav.
This Law was ne're decreed i'th Parliament
Of Cupid; such a Statute would undoe
Many sweet Virgins like your selfe; yet if
You'le promise to stay for me, I shall thinke it
A happy expectation; we are both
And couple, as we grow more ripe hereafter.
Dom.
Ile aske you but one question my Lord,
What would you give to be the King of Naples?
Octav.
I dare not thinke so ambitiously.
Dom.
Tis modest: what if I cannot love under a Prince.
Octav.
Can he be lesse, whom you will make happy
To boast in the possession of your faire
Person, a thousand provinces; those eyes
Are able to create another Indies;
All the delights that dwell in blessed Tempe
Divinely bud and blossome in your cheeke;
The treasure of Arabia's in your breath;
Nor Thebes alone, as to Amphions Lute
Stoopes to the heavenly magicke of your voyce,
But all the world.
Dom.
No more of this: these praises
Are made for children, and will make truth blush;
They may fill up where nature is defective;
And were I Queene of Naples I should punish
Such flattery; but you are young and may
Outgrow this vanity.
Octav.
You are mercifull.
Dom.
I shall be ever so to you Octavio;
Let this incourage you to thinke I love you
In the first place, of those which are borne subjects;
If you will answer my respects forbeare
To question further.
Octa.
I shall waite sometime, and kisse your hand.
Dom.
And if my power may
Prevaile to doe you favour with the King,
Make your addresse.
Octa.
Has not the court transform'd her.
Exit.
Dom.
Me thinkes I move upon a state already
And yet tis not the glory of his title
Affects my hope so much; his person's lovely,
And both together make the charme; I doe
Expect his royall presence; how shall I
Enter Jacamo.
Iaca.
Madam.
Dom.
Admit not every Lord to trouble me;
I will take physicke; but Ile be observ'd;
You may frame some excuse to Ladies too
That presse their visite.
Iaca.
Tis the Duke.
Dom.
The Duke.
Iaca.
Of Florence.
Dom.
Princes must not be neglected;
That name gives him accesse; say I attend.
Enter Duke.
Duke.
The acknowledgments I owe your favours Madam,
Late your rude guest brings me to kisse your hand.
Dom.
Your excellence is pleas'd to interpret fairely
Of our intents.
Duke.
And till occasion ripen
My whole discharge for your faire entertainement,
Madam, be pleas'd to weare these Diamonds,
Which of themselves betray their want of lusture,
And come with an ambition to recover
Flame from your smile.
Dom.
It can be no dishonour
To take these from a Prince.
Enter Iacamo, whispers to Domitilla.
The King with wings,
Ile haste to meet him.
Exit.
Duke.
Gone, and so abruptly
Her businesse might allow her breath to thanke me
For my rich present; but Ile follow her;
I wo'd not meet the King here; if shee prove
Gentle, my heart I consecrate to love.
Exit.
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