 | The Hvmorovs Covrtier |  |
Act. 5.
Scena. I.
Enter Contarini, Carintha.Con.
Y'are very jocund on the suddaine.
Car.
Thanke your love for't, that provided
Such a cure for melancholly;
To my selfe I seeme not to goe but dance,
When shall we have a maske
My Lord?
Con.
You'd be revelling againe.
Car.
I am all for sport, your honour is much bound
To the Gentleman your friend, trust me my Lord
He is a rare physitian.
Con.
He's well skild in womens pulces.
Theres no feare my Lord,
But heele recover me, I doe like him infinitely
For my body, the best in Padua.
Con.
Good, good, he gave you gentle phisicke,
But you hope twill worke.
Car.
No Esculapius
Could ha behaved him more judicially
Did our Court Ladyes know his skill
They would be all his Patients, and be sicke a purpose.
Con.
You hold him then sufficient.
Car.
He has a way
So easie to doe good upon's.
Con.
Vpon ye ith'name of lust, you see
I had a care.
Car.
Twas more compassion, and I am bound
To acknowledge it, I was all heavinesse;
A thousand plummets hung upon my heart,
Tis by your meanes I am made light.
Con.
I thinke so, very light, ha, is she not quicke already,
She moves so nimbly, Giotto has don't,
I have it here, I feele it spread, harke you:
Y'are a whore.
Car.
Does your Lordship love bastard next your heart,
Though some hold wine unholesome, it may thaw
Your congealed blood; oh the difference of constitutions.
Con.
Hey, she jeeres me, how now?
Enter Dandalo.
Dan.
My Lord, her grace hath sent a strict command
You waite to night at Court.
Con.
Ha?
Dan.
The messenger seemed full of hast, he onely
Tooke time to say her highnesse had resolv'd,
This Night, to cleere all doubts, and from her Court
Make happy one, with title of a Duke.
Con.
Be dumbe, thou bringst destruction to night,
Pray you may be mistaken, I am undone else.
Dan.
It is my unhappinesse then my Lord, to bring unwelcome truth.
To night, why tis impossible
To sue out a divorce, Ime lost, my plots
Rebound and strike me dead.
Car.
My Lord, you seeme
Troubled, does your head ake, Ile into th' garden
And gather a few simples.
Con.
Madam a word w'e,
You magnified but now a courtesie
I did you, you were ever gratefull, I
Know't, you shall not doe the benefit
If you will yet kill your selfe.
Car.
That's a small matter.
Con.
I know tis, considering th'art stained,
Lost in thine honour, held but a disease
That growes upon thy sex, a tumour; prethee
Lance thy selfe, tis soone done.
Car.
That's a poore favour,
Well, Ile thinke on't to morrow.
Con.
'T must be done to night, and earely to, for else twill
Doe me no pleasure deare Carintha, make thy memory
Religious.
Car.
I am thinking where the signe is,
Hah, tis in Capricornus, Ile goe let
My selfe blood ith'knees, and dye praying,
That your Lordship may recover your wits againe.
Ex.
Con,
A fury lend me curses, make me all
An execration, I ha plotted fairely,
And made my selfe a fine rediculus thing
To no purpose, I am deepe in shame, I must on
Giotto, have a nimble braine; you must sinke too
Or boy me up againe.
Exit.
Enter Depazzi, Crispino, curling his haire.
De.
Make no words Crispino, for the Dutchesse
Would not have it published that she meanes to chuse me.
Cris.
Did she promise you?
De.
Not by word of mouth, but I know her meaning,
As well as I were in her, I must be Duke man.
Tis certaine, every body knowes it, but say nothing
Least it breake out, hast done.
A little with this locke, and Ile adone your Lordship
With a powder; I hope your honour will
Not forget Crispino's faithfull service when you are Duke.
De.
Why I am Duke already,
But for the ceremony, my raign's begun, Depazzi the first.
But that Ile not shew my selfe unto my people,
Because the Dutchesse did intreate me, let me
See what place th'art fit for: oh I have it,
Thou shalt be judge.
Cris.
A judge my Lord
De.
A Iudge my Lord, at least, thou canst discharge it,
Tis nothing to sit upon life and death, tis not
Required you should speake much, thy trade has halfe
Prepared thee, thou canst pole the commons, Ime sure,
Cris.
And cut off capitall offenders.
De.
Very good be it so, be a judge.
Cris.
Where my good Lord?
De.
Why thou shalt be a Iudge in potentia.
Cris.
I humbly thanke your grace.
Enter Comachio, Giotto.
Com.
Oh my true friend, I have no happinesse
But thou dost make me clime too't, twill be thy owne
Instructer, and oblige me everlastingly.
Gio.
Ile soone remoove your feares, I cannot doubt
You will make good your promise Sir, to pardon
When y'are Duke.
Com.
Pardon, reward and honour thee as my preserver,
Be not observed, I am your creature.
Exit. Comachio.
Gio.
My Lord, I have assaid which you require privacy,
Send off Crispino,
De.
I ha made him a Iudge.
Gio.
Tis very trimly done of you, I cry you mercy my very
Good Lord, I humbly desire your honourable absence.
Cris.
It shall be granted.
Exit.
De.
Now Signiour what bring you.
Gio.
Why some tokens for your Lordship, looke you.
De.
Th'are no tokens of love as I take it.
Gio.
Yes but they are, and you must take em so,
For one you must accept.
De.
O what doe you meane Signiour.
Gio.
Not too loud, lest I chuse for you, heres a ball,
Better then any ere Crispino washt
Your honours face with 'twill scoure you.
De.
Hold, are you in earnest.
Gio.
A bullet will quickely sing my errand to you,
Will you choose.
De.
I beseech declare your meaning Signiour.
Gio.
In short, Ime sent to kill you, if you like
Any death better then another, briefely
Resolve and have it, nay without long studdy.
De.
Every man should consider his end Signiour, alas!
Gio.
The Dutchesse loves you, and there must be order
Taken to stay your raysing, say your prayers.
De.
I ha not the heart to say my prayers,
Ah, if I must needes, I would dye
Another death, you ha not brought me.
Gio.
What ist?
De.
I would choose my gallowes, ah, stay tis very
Short warning, and I am not halfe prepared:
What is this, Ratsbane; alas thats to kill
Vermine, I would be loath to be sent out of
The world like a Rat.
Gio.
What say you to a halter?
De.
Indeed Signiour I never loved swinging
In my life, and the halter is a dogges death,
I would dye like a man.
Gio.
What say you to a sword?
De.
Alas I have a sword of my owne, and I had a mind to't
But my stomacke will never disgest it.
Gio.
Then this pistoll.
De.
But that I have a weake constitution,
I have alwayes beene given to loosenesse,
And I doubt your pellet will put me into such a scowring.
Gio.
Why, would you live then?
De.
Alas every thing would live Signiour, but I should be
Sorry to enjoy a life, that stood not with your liking signior.
Gio.
Duke thats the sluce open'd this torrent.
De.
I am abused deare Signiour, Ile renounce it,
Ile be first a dog-killer.
Gio.
This is but aire, your not to be trusted,
I ha sworne to send you into another world,
You must not more be seene.
De.
I wo'not; doe but trust me,
And as I am honourable Ile goe
Into the wildernesse, and live with Beares;
Any whether, hide me in a Well, and there be no
Water in't, Ile feed on gravell;
By this hand, this seaven yeares, none shall know,
But I am dead.
Gio.
If they should find you living.
De.
Never, Ile indure pinching to death
Ere Ile confesse it.
Gio.
Were I certaine
You would be buryed to all mens sight, but till
To morrow.
De.
See me put into the ground yourselfe,
So you'le not smother me, and it be seven nights
Ile feede on moles sweete Signiour.
Gio.
The Dutchesse doth purpose this night her election,
Your Vncle envying your hope, must ha
Security for non appearance; had I
A faith you'ld creepe into obscurity,
But for twelve houres I should have one
Sinne lesse to answer for.
De.
Noble Signiour, Ile wrigle my selfe into a
Wormehole, or creepe into a Molehill, and live
Vpon Emmits egges.
Exit.
Gio.
Be sure you do't then, poore sicke nobility,
How thinne he lookes already.
Enter Volterre at one doore, Orseollo at tother.
Uol.
Signiour Giotto.
Gio.
Now the tide comes.
Uol.
This is the night Signiour, t'inclines apace.
Have I any square still.
Gio.
O my good Lord.
Ors.
Signiour a word,
Does this night then conclude—
Gio.
Your happinesse.
Ors.
Be not tempted from me, I have writ
Pamphlets in praise of women, I have a volume
Of Recantations.
Gio.
They are fruitlesse,
You are fixt already in her thoughts, away
You make your person cheape, meete, and
Be happy.
Exit Orseollo.
Enter Contarini.
Con.
Giotto.
Uol.
Deere Signiour.
Con.
What make they flattering here, ha they all hope
To enjoy her; all, onely Contarini
Could gnaw his heartstrings now to be excluded,
When he expected his fate ripe, and all his
Hopes fit for gathering.
Gio.
Be high and answer your great hopes;
Meete confidence.
Uol.
Sha't be my fellow Cæsar in the Empire.
Gio.
Noble Contarini.
Con.
Y'ave store of clients signiour, I am come
To know my fortune too.
Gio.
Alas my Lord.
Con.
You'ld say tis plaine writ in my forehead, yes
In capitall letters; you are knowne to th' secretary,
That taught my wife this Text hand, but you must
Doe something, sure the marriage is decreed
To night to rid me of Carintha, or
Ile ha thee punish'd for adultery.
Gio.
Are you mad?
Con.
As hornes can make a man, it is no time
For patience, heare me carefully and have
Your best braines.
Gio.
Adultery? was it not by your consent,
By your direction, will this published
Exempt you from the Law?
Con.
Ile laugh at thee
With my mans helpe, and oath against thee, Ile
Returne thy calumny ith' face, I am
A Lord, and shall out weigh thee, couldst thou give
Thy truth a body, that even men might see
As well as heare it.
Gio.
This is strange and violent ha,
Con.
Doe, harrow thy skull, I am resolved.
Gio.
This is but course reward for my last office,
No remedy but killing before supper;
Did my starres owe me this? you will pardon me
When y'are Duke, thats but reason.
Con.
And reward thee.
Gio.
I am in, and must wade through, she goes to bed
Supperlesse.
Con.
Oh happinesse, may I trust too't?
Gio.
Ile put her granam to the charge of wormes
To entertaine her, meete, and be Duke, Ile make
Your wife immortall.
Con.
Wo't thou be speedy, for Ile tell thee Giotto,
I cannot hope this night to have all perfect.
The noyse of this her sudden death, must needes
Marre this nights revelling, and pretract the choyse
That is expected; then a little time
Presents me capable of the mighty favour:
I have incouragement to hope for marriage
With our great Dutchesse, ha.
Gio.
Excellent braines,
Your wife is already carrying commendations
To your friends ith' tother world.
Con.
Oh let me hugge thee.
Gio.
I have your pardon.
Con.
And my heart too, on, be swift in thy great worke
Beleeve it done.
Dutch.
This pleasantnesse becomes you well Carintha,
And you shew duty in it, this night we dedicate
To our owne delights,
Car.
Madam, I ha more wonder
To tell your grace, when you are pleased to heare me.
Dutch.
You'le finde our disposition meete it, but
Laura, dost thou not smile to thinke upon
The event, we shall be censur'd humorous.
Lau.
But your grace shall publish your reasons,
You will appeare just.
Dutch.
That ambition
Should have such feare in humane natures, but
Court hath beene long sicke; they are my humours
And I must phisicke em.
Enter Depazzi.
De.
Treason, treason, wheres the Dutchesse, O Madam
Never was heard of such a horrid treason.
Dutch.
Our guard.
De.
Nay I discovered and prevented it
Already.
Dutch.
You amaze us, whats the treason, who is
The conspirator?
De.
My Vncle, but I thinke most o' the Lords
Had their hand in't:
Dutch.
Be briefe.
De.
There was a plot of treason to ha kild.
Dutch,
Whom? defend us heaven.
De.
Nay I ha defended my selfe, they wod a kild
Me, that shall be Duke, because they saw
You were inclin'd to marry me.
Dutch.
Is this the treason?
De.
And who should be the villaine thinke you, but
Giotto.
Giotto.
De,
I Giotto, but like an honest rascall
Vpon my promise, to goe hide my selfe
For twelve houres, he sav'd my life, did y'ever
Heare of such a cunning traitour, but it is
Your destiny to ha me, you have cause
To pray heartily.
Dutch.
And so I have, here was a peece of treason,
But be reserv'd you are here safe; Ile take
My time to know and punish all; what bold
Entruders this?
Enter Crispino.
Cris.
My Lord, I heard your voyce in fearefull manner
Crying treason, are you in preservation.
De.
One of my loving subjects; yes Crispino:
'Tis Crispino Madam, one that I ha promised
To make a judge, he was my Barber, and
Will fit the Common wealth to a haire.
Dutch.
He must deserve that place then.
De.
'Tis confirm'd.
Cris.
I humbly thanke your excellence.
Dutch.
Signiour Depazzi, you shall be neere our person,
Here's mirth more then's expected; Laura, bid
Some waiter command Giotto's presence;
Carintha, weele retire and heare your wonder.
My Lord, weele sift the treason.
De.
And let the traitors be bolted Madam I beseech you.
Enter Officer, and Servants.
Offi.
Quicke, set things in order. The Gentlemen
That come to see this great preparation,
Must please to make roome for't, so, so.
What are you Sir.
Cris.
I am the terrour of the Law.
What's that, a hangman?
Cris.
When I looke leane, and frowne, thou dy'st, I am
A Iudge, I say, a Iudge in Potentia.
Offi.
Have we a Towne called Potentia, in our Dutchy.
Serv.
He's some forraigner, he comes to use his eyes,
Let him passe.
Offi.
Cease your clamors Villaines; sure the devils
Are singing a catch. Give order the outward
Doores be locked. Let none approach the presence;
The Lords must come hither up the backe staires,
And through the Privy gallery, beare backe:
Exeunt.
Knocking at the other doore.
More noyse yet, 'twere lesse troublesome living
In a drumme then at Court, in nights of
Entertainement.
Within.
Open the doore.
Offi.
My Lord Comachio's voyce.
Enter Comachio, Orseollo, they salute with silence at the doore.
Com.
The Lords are not yet met.
Ors.
I hate this overgrowne thing, tis high time
He should intend's affaires in Heaven, yet still
He hath some businesse upon earth,
Cris.
Save you my good Lord, signiour Orseollo,
I hope you have an able faith.
Ors.
Why do ye hope so?
Cris.
That ye may be sav'd too.
Ors.
The groome is witty.
Knocking at the doore.
Offi.
Who makes that noyse?
Within.
Signiour Contarini and Uolterre would
Have entrance.
Com.
Why was Contarini warn'd, he has a wife,
His hope have no incouragement.
Cris.
My Lord Uolterre, I congratulate
Your safety, and your health signiour Contarini?
Vol.
Is not this Depazzies Barber?
Con.
I wish he had more manners.
Cris.
There are certaine Iudges in the darke
Vol.
And thats the reason Iustice is blinde.
Cris.
And those Iudges shall come to light too, when
They shall thinke convenience proper—
Uol.
His fingers speake his profession
Within.
Make way there, fellowes oth' guard,
The passage.
Offi.
Beare backe Gentlemen, what doe you meane,
Pray beare backe?
Lords,
Musicke then.
Enter Depazzi, Giotto, Dutchesse:
Laura.
Attendants.
Dutchesse sits under her Canopy.
Com.
My Nephew still alive, Giotto, you
Trifle with me, I am dangerous when
My wrath is.
Gio.
You mistooke your Nephew, I proffered him
Foure or five severall deaths, and could not get him
To accept of one. Come signiour there's great hope,
The Dutchesse but pretends a care o're him,
The more to disguise her love of you.
Com.
This is but a weake comfort.
Con.
Ist done? softly in my eare?
Gio.
It is not done.
Hell, and damnation!
Gio.
Your wife is invisible: the Sunne can hardly
Finde her out.
Con.
Secure thy selfe, my wayes are hidden
Vol.
Diable prend e'te Droll la! parles doucement.
De.
Doe not trust the Arch-Duke, he cosend me at
Blow-point.
Vol.
Abien, ce'te unchose ci dificite. Iene scay que faire.
De.
Right, why thats the cause I lent the Emperour my
Combecase.
Vol.
Ma foy loblie! mais nous le voyerous tontastine
grandement esbahy.
De.
With like ease may I—hand saw, and invite the
Moone to supper.
Dutch.
Hah, who is the cause of this fury.
Uol.
Tis onely a French heate, an't like your excellence.
Dutch.
My Lord the time is now arriv'd wherein
We are to gaine your thankes, and strive to oblige
Posterity, your care oth' publike weale,
Incourag'd your continuall sute to heaven,
And us, that we would make an earthy choyce
Of a good husband. Even from this number,
Weele performe your wishes, envy is the sinne
Of Cowards: therefore no Lord of high birth,
And temperate breeding will maligne his destiny
Whom we shall thinke most worthy our esteeme:
Nay, 'twould shew decay of duty
Ith' greatest of our Court, to thinke that we
Want skill to make a safe election, such
A bold thought, in one we call our subject
Would soone corrupt our nature, and make our
Iustice cruell; we doe expect (my Lords)
No verball satisfaction in this point;
But as we single out our choyce, weele make
A private tryall of each heart, Contarini:
She descends, leads him aside.
Com.
I can perceive no cause of feare from him,
Dutch.
How does your wife Signiour?
Con.
She has too much health Madam: but had I knowne
Your excellences purpose, to hasten thus
Your favour towards your humble subject:
Shee had ere this arriv'd in heaven: however
If your care finde your blood so violent
You are not able to delay the use
Of this my person; she shall not live long
To finde your desire.
Dutch.
O my good Lord you still increase my obligation
Con.
'Tis great pitty custome should make Princes
So reserv'd in wooing, had ye told me
But two dayes since of this meeting, I had
Casheer'd my wife; a nimbler way then by
Contriving a divorce.
Dutch.
Then you have practised a divorce already?
Con.
'Las, no designe seemes difficult, that makes
Me capable of your highnesse love.
Dutch.
What an Iron impudence rules in thy
Nature? thou seemest to boast of crimes the devill
Would in modesty conceale.
Con.
How Madam?
Dutch.
Canst thou expect kindnesse from a Lady,
That art so cruell to thy owne: a soule
So much ith' tongue of fame, as is Carintha:
You are one oth' religious faction,
Whose care meerely did reflect upon the
Generall good; the safety of your Country,
Ile not publish thy disgrace: kneele old man?
And thanke the priviledge of this great day;
Thou hast thy pardon.
He kisses her hand.
Con.
Horred torture, foyl'd in my hopes, and made
An argument for popular scorne. I feare
My owne shadow, my hornes are growne so ugly.
Dutch.
Orseollo.
Com.
She knowes him a woman hater, his fate
Dutch.
How thrives your charity toward our sex,
What thinke you of a woman now my Lord?
Ors.
A woman is the pride of nature: her
Husbands best Gaurius, made to credit
Heaven, to justifie the first creation good:
She is the destiny of time, her wombe
Containes the hope of our succession,
The power to adde new life unto the world.
Dutch.
Stay signiour, this is a kin to flattery,
Doe you appeare at this our summons, with
Hope to gaine by it: you that have professed
Your selfe a naturall enemy to all our sex?
Ors.
Madam I recanted that heresie,
Giotto is my witnesse: there are creatures—
Dutch.
Heele tell me all I neede not tempt it from him,
Bold Mounsier, I've heard of your Goattish trickes
Of your Seragho, and your Concubines;
Dare you be so much a Traitor, to thinke
I'ld marry with a publicke stallious,
A Towne Bull.
Ors.
Your Highnesse—
Dutch.
No more? for the honour of this day I doe
Conceale your faults and pardon em.
Kisses her hand.
Ors.
Giotto, I shall pricke your veines.
Dutch.
Volterre.
Com.
What meanes these severall parlies?
Dutch.
I am to give you thankes (my Lord) for your
Great care oth' publicke weale. You did implore
My haste to marriage, meerely for your
Countries good, you your selfe not guilty of,
Any hope to profit by it.
Uol.
Your excellence does me too much right.
Dutch.
And can your nature suffer you to doe
Me wrong: you under value me, my birth
And title, for else a little forraigne
Vanity, shew in corrupted mixture
T'attempt our person, and so become our equall.
Uol.
Your highnesse will hold me in excuse.
Dutch.
Yes y'ave more deserved our mercy then
The rest—walke aside.
Kisses her hand.
Dutch.
Comachio!
Com.
Hey, I begin to prosper!
Dutch.
You are your Countries father; chiefe of those
Whose zealous interrest ith'common wealth,
Vrg'd to intreate my first indeavours,
To helpe posterity with issue; yet
Prescribed your selfe no share ith'benefit;
Fye my Lord! how sinnefull has ambition
Made you? tis strange, that he, whom we have held
Our Oracle, should conspire the death of
One so harmelesse as your Nephew.
Com.
My gracious Mistresse!
Dutch.
We know all; but in hope you'le not maligne
Our next election, you taste our mercy.
Kisses her hand.
Com.
False Giotto, thou shalt suffer.
Dutch.
Signiour de Pazzi.
Paz.
Hem! now I begin my raigne: Dutchesse,
We know thy minde: thou wouldst protest thy great
Love unto our royall person. Contarini,
Thy speech and lets to bed, weele have our subjects
Know our prompt desire to furnish them
With a lusty hire.
Dutch.
Your Lordship will please to heare me speake.
Paz.
First we would know thy lips. I say it is
Our will to busse thy highnesse.
Dutch.
The fellowes sawcy, Take him away.
Com.
How now Nephew?—
Paz.
Tis fine ifaith—
Giotto and the Dutchesse imbrace.
Dutch.
Beehold (Lords) your Prince Foscari, Duke of
Parma, and of Mantua, now our Lover,
Whom lately you supposed dismissed our Court.
Com.
Indeed we see the Golden Fleece his order,
And a face like his, but yet his chinne wants
Gio.
I left that naked, more to disguise me
From your knowledge. And that our fame, (which must
Out live our person) may give reply to those,
Who shall hereafter question it; know, we
Vndertake this shape, to helpe us in discovery
Of all your soules and hearts; the better to
Inable us; how to dispose of each
Beneath our governement.
Dutch.
And I made secret promise, to bring you
To a Court, purged, and in cleare health: your Lords
Have all tane physicke from my prescription.
Here I present em to you, penitent
And wise; for now they know themselves; which is
The best knowledge, and chiefe part of wisdome.
You are to grant their pardons for my sake.
Gio.
With great alatrity, and I banish
All their crimes from my remembrance.
They kneele, kisse his hand by turnes.
Con.
Deprived of my revenge too!
Cris.
Then I am no Iudge now.
Paz.
Tis a new tricke of state, continually
To shift great offices.
Cris.
Eare I've made my cushion warme!
Paz.
No remedy, If I'me his favourite,
Thou shalt be my Pimpe, then th'art sure to rise.
Gio.
Must we not be reconcil'd to my Lord
Depazzi too?
Paz.
I forgive your highnesse, I.
Gio.
And I you, your love is soone requited:
Lau.
I hope your excellence will pardon my
Rude intrusion into your acquaintance.
Her grace conceal'd this part of her designe
From me. I never knew till now, that you
Were more then Giotto, the Florentine.
Gio.
Madam, you are truely noble: you have
Merited our best assistance.
All.
Long Foscari, Duke of Mantua, and Parma.
Dutch.
This noyse brings in Carintha.
Gio.
Vneasie thoughts perplex her husband.
Dutch.
Make not rumour acquainted with
Your griefe; as yet tis contained ith' knowledge
Of us foure, I forgive his excellence
His sinne 'gainst me. Make me your good example,
And forgive your wife her error.
Con.
Heaven has punished my ambition, it was
My owne seeking. Ime content to suffer.
Gio.
Then take your wife, and with assurance from
The faith of a true Knight and Prince, she doth
Retaine that chastity she had, when first
I saw her. Now each wrinkled brow growes smooth;
And I begin my soveraignty: with hope
To give succession cause, still to prefer
This Day, as chiefe within their Kallender.
Exeunt Omnes.
FINIS.
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