 | The Court Secret |  |
ACT. IV.
Enter Pedro.Pe.
My Lord is coming to my chamber, he
Has been with the King, I see my self allready
Knight of the order of the Calatrava,
And my Commission sign'd for the State Secretary.
I am not the first servant of the Court
Has kept his Lord in aw; these Secrets are
An excellent curb to ride a Statesman with,
That is not come to the art of poysoning.
I know he wishes heartily I were hang'd;
I tryed him once for the wars; to find his pulse,
And I was listed Captain, before some
The Generall knew had been seven years in service
(As Ushers to right honourable Ladies)
There was his Graces commendations
To a Field-officer, that should drill me out,
The first to dye, with honor on some on-slaught;
So quitted that preferment.
Enter Mendoza.
He is come; I'll take no notice.
Men.
If he liv'd at the t'other end of th'world,
He might betray me in the next packet: Ha!
Pe.
Item I bequeath—
Me.
What art thou doing?
Pe.
Only making up my Will, Sir; and my self
Ready for the Indies; 'tis a long voyage,
48
Before I go; if your Grace please to honor me,
I would make you my Executor.
Me.
But when,
Will you dye Pedro? ha?
Pe.
Sir, there be storms,
Abroad, and who does know how soon the waves
May rore, and crack the cabins?
Me.
Ha!
Pe.
There may be Calentures, my Lord, and twenty
Devices to be met at sea, beside
The land diseases; there be Hericanoes
Are boysterous enough to tear up mountains,
And strike a ship clean through o't'other side
To the Antipodes.
Me.
He deals with the devil, and knows my thoughts.
There's no hast to make your will, I have
Consider'd o'the business, and truth is,
I cannot find my heart willing to part with thee,
So far thou hast been faithfull; we will live
And dye together.
Pe.
By no means, my Lord:
I am resolv'd I will not live in Spain
A moneth, for as much plate as the next Fleet
Brings home; no, I beseech your Grace excuse me.
Me.
Why Pedro?
Pe.
If your Grace please I shall be Knighted,
Or have the Office you have promis'd, do't,
And do't betime, it will be worse for both else.
Me.
You do not threaten to reveal the business?
Pe.
'Lass, there be other matters, Sir, as dangerous,
And if you love your self, or honor, finish—
I cannot help it.
Me.
I am all a bath!
Pedro, why dost thou fright me so? if thou
Beest honest, ther's no mortal can betray us.
49
Worse, worse than that; let me go travel, Sir,
And far enough; it is not possible
That I should stay, and you preserve your wits.
Me.
The reason?
Pe.
It will make you mad to hear it, Sir,
But 'tis my desperate fate, the stars command it;
Would I had never seen—
Me.
What?
Pe.
A face that I could name.
Me.
If it concerns not
The other mystery, let me hear it, Pedro,
I will be arm'd.
Pe.
Why then you'll cut my throat;
You cannot hold your hand; pray let me go,
And you may save all yet.
Me.
Thou dost torment me.
P.
And yet it is no fault of mine, directly,
We are all flesh and blood—oh Sir.
Me.
Out with it.
Pe.
You'll curse me when you know it.
I would your Grace would guess, but 'tis impossible;
'Tis working to get out, I am—
Me.
Well sayd.
Pe.
Oh Sir, I am—I am—in love—now 'tis out.
Me.
That all?
Pe.
All? a Pistol to a Maravide you draw
Your Rapier presently upon me, and
If I name but the party, will not have
The patience to foin, but tilt it at me.
Sir, do not know't; what will become of me?
It will be safer, Sir, to hoyst sayls yet,
No matter whither, So I never come
Agen; for if I see one face too often,
Both you, and I, and she's undone: I have
Beaten my self allready, fasted, prayed,
Been drunk, and pray'd agen, nothing will kill
50
Me.
Why, this is raving.
Pe.
I, you may call it what you please, but here
She lies a cross that must, or doe the deed,
Or make poor Pedro miserable.
Me.
How he sweats?
Pedro do not despair, this feaver may
Be cur'd, it may.
Pe.
Indeed you can do much;
For to say truth, your Grace is both acquainted,
And has no small command upon the party.
Me.
Nay then be confident—who is't?
Pe.
It is—shall I name her?
Me.
By my honor I will beat thee else.
Pe.
Why so then;
The pretty soul, I will confess to you,
Whom, if I stay, I must—
Me.
Enjoy; this such a business?
Pe.
Is—is—Clara, your Graces one, & only daughter.
Me.
Ha!
[draws.
Pe.
I told you this afore, but do not do't, Sir, now,
I rather look for't in the next sallad,
Or in my mornings draught; there's spice i' your closet;
Or we have Spanish figs.
Me.
Thou most unheard-of impudence! how can'st hope
I should not cut thy head off? sirrah, rascall.
Pe.
To these things humane nature has been prone;
But if you kill me, Sir, there is a scedule,
A Secret in a bag of writings, left
In a friends hand—nay I did look for this,
There is an Inventory of Goods were stoln;
The Anno Domini, with Ætatis suæ
Set down, the day o'th' moneth, and place remembred,
If these do not revenge my death—
Me.
Whyso; a pox upon thee—yet come hither,
And let me cut thy tongue out.
51
I confess
I am not fit to marry, Sir, a Lady of
Her Princely birth and fortune, all consider'd;
Alas, I know I am a wreth—but—
Me.
Thou wouldst have her to be thy whore, & me
Thy pander to speak for thee—rogue, devill,
I must kill thee, there is no remedy.
Pe.
Hold, you mistake me, Sir, 'tis no such business.
Me.
What wouldst thou have then?
Pe.
I would go beyond sea, I, to the Indies, Sir,
Or turn a Haddack by the way; send me
To the new Islands, or Japan.
Me.
From whence you may send Letters to the King;
No sirrah, I'll not trust you.
Pe.
'Tis a hard case, my Lord, I have dangerous sailing
Betwixt your Graces Scylla and her Caribdis.
Me.
I dare not kil him; why do I not kil my self then?
No, I wo'not, I will talk reason to him;
Come hither sirra, my tormentor.
Pe.
I Sir—
Me.
If your hot blood must have a cooler, will
None serve your rogues turn, but my daughter Clara?
Say thou art mad—
Pe.
I have too many senses.
Me.
Or if your wantonness must be confin'd
Within my walls—
Pe.
The more my sorrow—but I'll try my Lord,
If you will give me leave, for your sake, Sir,
Among her Gentlewomen, what I can do
To conjure down my devil, I will take
Some physick too, Sir, every thing will help;
Would I were whipt, my Lord—
Me.
Whipt with a vengeance?
Pe.
But I am griev'd
For your vexation, and my scurvey fortune;
But if there be a wench, a witch, a medicine
52
Your Grace shall hear no more on't—So, your pardon.
And now my Lord, let your unworthy servant
Have leave to ask one question; does not your Grace
Suspect me monstrously? nay d'ee not think
I do presume too much upon your fears?
And that the knowledge of this Secret makes
Me bold and sawcy, my good Lord?
Me.
'Tis all too true, but 'tis not in my brain
To help't, unless I take some course to kill thee.
Pe.
How?
Me.
I fear I shall be driven to't; one fit
Like this will work my impatience up: look to't.
Pe.
Why, then I'll tel your Grace an easie way
To remove all your jealousie, and never
Trouble your brain with study how to kil me,
A most compendious way.
Me.
I would I knew it.
Pe.
'Tis but my going to the Court, my Lord,
And if you be not cur'd within an hour
After I have told the King a story, how
Your wife the Dutchess lost—I ha' done—
Fear nothing.
Enter Lord.
Lo.
Is not Prince Carlo here?
Me.
Not here, my Lord.
Lo.
'Tis the Kings pleasure you attend him presently,
Your daughters presence is expected too
Among the Ladies, for the entertainment
Of Princess Isabella, new arriv'd the Court.
Me.
We humbly wait to kiss his hand.
Pe.
Shall I attend?
Me.
I am resolv'd now not to sleep without thee,
And in the day, I'll look upon thee, Pedro,
As thou wert my great Seal, and I thy keeper.
53
Yet I may give you a slip.
Me.
We'll to Clara:
The Princess Isabella come so private, ha! Pedro?
Pe.
I am here, my Lord.
Exeunt
Enter Manuel.
Ma.
This is the place by his commands to meet in;
It has a sad and fatall invitation.
A Hermit that forsakes the world for prayer,
And solitude, would be timorous to live here.
There's not a spray for birds to perch upon;
For every tree that over-looks the vale,
Carries the mark of lightning, and is blasted.
The day which smil'd as I came forth, and spread
Fair beams about, has taken a deep melancholy,
That fits more ominons in her face than night;
All darkness is less horrid than half light.
Never was such a scene for death presented,
And there's a ragged mountain peeping over
With many heads, seeming to crowd themselves
Spectators of some Tragedy; but I'll
Prevent 'em all; though my obedience
Instructed me to wait here, it shall not
Be brib'd to draw my sword against the Prince;
And in his honor I am safe, how e'r
This sense of Clara's loss transport him, 'tis not
Within his nature to be impious.
And if I gain his friendship, I return
With triumph to my Clara.
Within
—help, help.
Enter Prince Carlo's Page.
Pa.
Oh help, Don Manuel, help for heavens sake.
Ma.
Celio the Princes page? where is the Prince?
Pa.
Oh Sir, I fear he's slain.
Ma.
By whom?
54
The Devill, or one not very much unlike him,
A More, that basely set upon him, sure
He has dispatcht the Prince, he persues me,
And if he have, Death shall be welcome to me,
For I am not fit to live, and lose my Master.
He's here, and his sword bloudy.
Enter Carlo like a More.
Ma.
Villain! were all thy bloud rivers of balm,
Or such a floud as would restore a life
To the departed World, it should be all
A sacrifice to Carlo.
(They fight.)
Pa.
Hold, hold Don Manuell.
Ma.
Canst thou be mercifull to the Princes Murderer?
Pa.
Curse on my Duty to obey so far.
My Lord, the Prince is slain, you are wounded too.
Ma.
The Prince!
Car.
Don Manuell, I forgive thee.
Ma.
Pray Heaven this be a Dream; for if my hand
Have been so much a Traitour, it shall call
No other aid in your revenge: Are you
Prince Carlo?
Car.
I was.
Ma.
That voyce shall be my sentence.
Car.
Hold, I charge thee by thy honour, Manuell.
Ma.
Why did you wear this black upon you Sir?
Or how could art of man contrive a Cloud
Which this Soul had no eyes to penetrate?
Car.
I knew thou wouldst not fight against me knowingly,
And if I fell, I meant it to secure
Thy act from punishment, when in this darkness
I took my leave o'th' World, onely that boy,
Whom I compel'd to feign me wounded, so
To make thee draw thy sword; but with my bloud
I feel my spirits vanish, if I have
But breath enough, I send by thee a kiss
55
Ma.
Oh, help good boy!
For 'tis no time to curse thee now, my horse
Is not far off, this scarf may stay his bleeding
Untill we meet with better Surgerie.
Now Heaven reprieve my strength but to convey him
To some good place, and I resign my self
To all the justice you will call me to.
Exit.
Enter King, Mendoza, Roderigo, Antonio, Pedro, Lord.
Ki.
Y'are all but my tormentors; where's Piracquo?
Enter Piracquo.
Ro.
His son is absent too.
Pir.
Have comfort Sir.
An.
Our neglect is lost in the Generall Cause,
What doe you think my Lord Mendoza?
Men.
This no news of the Prince is not so comfortable.
Enter 1 Lord.
Ki.
The news you bring?
Lo.
Unless he had left the Kingdom—
Ki.
Be dumb—and he had left the World
Your cares might have persued him; if he
Return not, you have murdred him.
Ro.
My Stars are now
At work in Heaven, their influence is powerful,
I will adore the Sun if it dissolve not
This mist in which the Prince is lost; I am
Content thou be a Constellation Carlo,
In any Sphere but this.
Enter a Messenger with a Letter to Piracquo.
Pir.
To me? 'tis Manuel's character.
Lo.
Unless we hear some good news of the Prince,
56
An.
'Tis strange none should attend him but his Page.
Ro.
I fear some plot is practis'd 'gainst his life,
But dare not speak.
2 Lo.
That's it distracts the King,
Whose fears are helpt by a sad dream he had
Last night.
Ro.
My Lord Piracquo's son is missing too.
Pi.
Comfort your self till my return,
I'll find 'em, or ne'r see your face agen.
Ki.
Well said Piracquo, all my prayers go with thee.
Me.
Pedro.
Exit Pir.
Pe.
My Lord.
Me.
I know not what to say, but stand
Before, they may not see me weep.
Pe.
Sir, I must confess—
Me.
Ha! Confess?
Pe.
You are still suspicious, have a true heart,
And let your conscience look less abroad Sir,
If he be dead, your trouble's over Sir;
We must all dye, Death has his severall waies
And times to take us off, some expire humbly
I'th' Cradle, some dismist upon a Scaffold—
Enter Isabella, Maria, Clara.
Me.
Come hither, doe not name a Scaffold, I
Was innocent thou knowst, the plot was all
My Ladies, and not one survives the Secret,
But we two.
Pe.
Keep your own counsell Sir,
This Fatherly affection may doe harm,
He could not dye in better time,
Ki.
Madam, can you,
Whose honour seems to suffer by this absence,
Have so much charity to comfort me?
Isa.
He is not desperate, while we have hope.
57
Enter Manuell.
An.
Don Manuell.
Ki.
Hast brought news of my Son?
Ma.
I can inform you a sad story Sir.
Isa.
Where is the Prince?
Ma.
Not dead I hope.
Ki.
Hast thou a jealousie will concern that fear?
My soul has been a Prophet: what misfortune?
Ma.
If you have strength to hear a truth
So sad, he has been wounded.
Ex. Ladies.
Ki.
By what Traitour? look to the Princess.
Ma.
I had not with such boldness undertook
The Tragick Story, if I had not brought
The great Offender.
Ki.
Oh, welcome Manuell—where's the Body?
Ma.
Where it doth want no Surgery, but my Father
Is gone with all the wings his fear and duty
Can aid him with, at his return to acquaint you
With Carlo's life, or death.
Ro.
Would I were his Surgeon.
Ki.
Thou hast not nam'd the Villain yet, he may
Escape.
Ma.
I have took order for his stay,
Untill your anger and the Laws conclude him.
Ki.
Thou hast done us service.
Ma.
And it will sink by slow degrees into
Your faith, that he, who gave him all his wounds,
Was one that lov'd him faithfully.
An.
Lov'd him?
Ma.
Above his own life.
Ro.
Torments oretake the Traitour.
Ma.
'Tis not well said, with pardon of the King;
When I shall bring you to the weeping heart
Of this poor man, some may allow his penitence,
58
Alass, he was betray'd to the black deed,
Both sword and soul compell'd to't.
Ki.
Here's a prodigie!
Ro.
Are you acquainted with the guilty person,
That you dare thus extenuate his fact?
Ma.
I am, and dare produce him—here he stands,
So far from wishes to out-live the Prince,
He begs to wait upon his Shade.
An.
Does he not bleed?
Ki.
Apprehend his person.
Ma.
They are but churlish drops,
And know not their own happiness; this wound
Was made by Carlo, yet how slow it weeps
To answer his effusion? could I reach
Their orifice, I'd kiss the crimson lips,
For his dear name that made 'em.
Men.
Did he kill him?
Justice Sir, Justice! I beg for Justice
Upon this Murderer.
Pe.
Now it works.
Ki.
You? by what nearer interest in Carlo
Should you imagine we are slow to punish him?
'Twas a black hour when Carlo saw thee first,
Rewarded now for all his love; to prison with him,
And let him see no day.
Ex. guarded.
Ma.
I kiss your Sentence.
An.
This circumstance is strange, I am not satisfied.
Ex. Ant. after Manuell.
Enter Clara.
Ki.
How is the Princess?
Cl.
Sir she is alive,
And would be glad to hear the Prince were so.
Ki.
We cannot promise, Clara. Roderigo,
We should be satisfied where his Body is,
59
Ro.
I could instruct the Surgeon a way
To make that sure.
[To Clara.]
Me.
And Manuell hath confess'd himself the Murderer.
Pe.
This change was unexpected.
Cla.
Is he gone to Prison then?
Me.
Go home, by that time thou
Hast wept out all thy tears, I'll come, and tell thee
A little sad tale Clara, that shall make
An end, and we will break our hearts together.
Ki.
Mendoza?
Me.
Sir.
Ki.
Why does thy grief appear
So rude to out-swell mine? he was my Son.
Me.
My tears are anger Sir, as well as grief,
That he that did commit this Paricide,
Should be so impudent to say he lov'd him.
Ki.
That amazes me.
Me.
But Traitours have their Gloss,
And dare expound their disobedient acts,
A branch of their allegiance: precious juggling!
Treason would be too ugly to appear
With his own face, but Duty and Religion
Are hansome visors to abuse weak sight,
That cannot penetrate beyond the bark,
And false complexion of things; I hope
You wo'not think a single death sufficient,
If Julio dye.
Ki.
Carlo thou meanst—
Me.
I, I, the Prince, I know not what I say Sir,
Things make me wild—
Pe.
Take heed Sir what you say.
Enter Antonio, Roderigo at one dore, and at the other dore Piracquo, and a Lord discoursing.
Piracquo is return'd.
60
My son confess the deed, and sent to Prison? so.
Ki.
Now Sir.
An.
How is the Prince, my Lord?
Pi.
This was an act of his last strength, as when
A short-liv'd Taper makes a blaze, it has
Direction to your Sister Sir, and I
His last commands I fear—
[Pir. gives Ant. a Letter.
An.
For the conveyance,
Trust that to me—give this Sir to my Sister.
[To his Servant.
Ki.
Then he is dead, Piracquo?
Pi.
Not yet Sir,
But he hath such a wound will not allow
Him many minutes life, 'tis mortall Sir,
They say, and wo'not pain him past next dressing.
Ro.
How things succeed to my Ambition—Sir—
Me.
I care not for my head, now let him take it,
'Tis but for keeping counsell.
Ro.
It is apparent this misfurtune grew
From both their loves to Clara.
Ki.
Thy son, Piracquo, dyes.
Pi.
Great Sir, hear me.
An.
Manuell affirms he did not know the Prince
I'th' habit of a More, and that his Page
By the command of Carlo told him, that
His Master had been wounded by that More,
To engage their fight.
Pi.
All this the Prince acknowledg'd.
Ro.
These are devices to paint Manuel's Treason.
Pi.
I sooner dare believe one accent from
The Prince's breath, when his just soul was parting,
Than all your Commentaries; I am bold;
Nor can the Law, and all your anger weigh
So heavy as my curse, upon his head
That durst lift up a Sword to wound the Prince:
But let not passion take away your justice,
'Tis that I kneel for.
61
Against whom Piracquo?
Pi.
'gainst him that's guilty of the Prince's loss,
You may incline to think poor Manuell innocent.
Ki.
What riddle's this?
Ro.
Has not your son, Piracquo,
Confess'd himself the Murderer?
An.
Manuel's fortune
Distracts the old man.
Pi.
Pardon my love of truth, I here accuse
Mendoza, that hath slept so long in Treason.
Me.
Ha—Pe—Pedro.
Pi.
If he deny, I ha' proof to make him blush,
And sink him with dishonour; Pedro can
Relate a Story will be worth your wonder.
Me.
Nay then 'tis come about, I see,
I cannot Sir confess in better time.
Don Manuel has accus'd himself unjustly
For Carlo's death, that Prince, if I may trust
A Wife upon her death-bed—
Enter Isabella.
Ki.
Roderigo—
Give us account from their examination,
And guide us in this Labyrinth. Piracquo
Return to th'Prince, what Death hath left of him
Command may be attended hither.
Isa.
Sir, if you please, I have a great desire
To take a sad leave of the Prince, and kiss
His pale hand, ere his Body be embalm'd,
And sear-cloths hide him from us.
Ki.
It will but
Enlarge your grief.
An.
I will attend my Sister; my Lord Piracquo
You can best direct us.
(Exe. Ant. Pir. Isa. Men. and Ped. under guard.
Ro.
Convey 'em with a strong guard.
Pe.
What think you of an Indian voyage now Sir?
62
My joyes are firm at root, Don Manuel,
Sir, is not guilty of the Prince's death,
Yet stain'd with blood to merit execution.
He that is slain did but usurp your blessing,
And was by the art of Duke Mendoza's Lady,
Then Governess to the Prince, after the loss
Of Carlo, that was stoln away an infant,
Put in his place; the Court has been long cosen'd.
Ki.
This story will want faith.
Me.
The circumstance will make all clear.
Ki.
Expound the riddle as we walk, there's no
Condition more expos'd to care than Princes.
Private men meet the force of common stings,
But none can feel the weight of Kings, but Kings.
Exeunt.
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