 | The tragedy of Albovine, King of the Lombards |  |
Act the fourth.
Scene first.
Enter Paradine dressing himselfe.Parad.
The early Lark climbes higher then his voice;
And whispers into Phœbus eare, a glad
Welcome; who smiles, and seemes to prophecy
A gawdy day. Valdaura? Madame? speake,
Sweet Lady! or, if for concealement of
Our stolne rapture you silence still assume;
Yet rise, and blesse my eye-sight with thy faire
Presence. Come, and eclipse the enuious day!
Not talke ith' businesse, nor yet behold
The ground we till, as if we both were blinde
And dumbe. Ile no more by stealth ingender;
Cripples are got thus. Kind Valdaura, speake!
A hand is thrust out betweene the Arras.
See, a new day breakes in her hand! These are
The rosie fingers of the Morne!
Pulls in Rhodolinda.
Hah! the Queene! Valdaura! Bride, where art thou?
Lookes in.
Rhod.
In vaine thou call'st. The Cannons Iron throat,
Although high mounted on yon Pinacle,
Scarce could reach her eare. She's in Pauia now,
Two Leagues situate from hence.
Parad.
Thou art mysterious as an Oracle!
Rhod.
I sent her thither, with pretence she should
But 'twas done, that Thesina might intice
With apter leasure, thy person to my bed.
At noone thy wife returnes.
Parad.
I'ue mistaken then my warme embraces,
And sinn'd with thee th'adulterous Queene!
Rhod.
Thou hast inioy'd what Albouine with all
His Royall sighs, his teares swolne bigger then
His eyes, despair'd to merit.
Parad.
O horror! gape, rugged Earth! Suck me in
Like some old Pyramid, whose ponderous limmes
Haue been thy burden since the Flood, and now
Their owne foundation sinke. Could you make
No choice to quench your rauenous lust, but me?
Where were the broad-chin'd Zwitzers of your Guard?
Rhod.
This (Paradine) denotes a melting braine:
Which out of vulgar pity I forgiue.
'Twas not the wanton taste of thy smooth limmes,
That could prouoke me vse this stratagem.
But loue of my reuenge. I'ue strongly now
Ingag'd thy power, to kill the King.
Parad.
Hah!
Rhod.
Which do: and ere the Sun arriue ith' West;
Or with disheuell'd haire, my vestments torne
(As if I'd wandred thorow some Hathorne hedge)
I will approach the Tyrant, acquaint him
With this deed, and call my owne adultery
Thy fowle rape.
Parad.
Who's within there, hoa! My Hogs-head's empty.
I was not borne with so much braines, as would
Bedew a clout, that my cold Nosthrill stopt.
These Court smocks containe the very Deuill.
Good heauen! how leane should I haue made my heart
Of such a damn'd proiection.
Rhod.
Collect thy scatter'd thoughts. What thy respect
To thy captiu'd Country, could ne're charme thee
To reuenge; be prompted to, by a kinde
Affection of thy owne deare life: reuenge
Vpon a Tyrant; One, that loues not me,
Nor thee; vnlesse in speech: he hath a smooth
Tongue, but a rugged heart. My Hermegild
Perceiues this truth, and can deliuer it
With all the pride of knowledge.
Parad.
Sure Time growes humerous with age: for things
Doe differ much from the sincerenesse of
Their first creation. I will goe weepe
Till I am blind—
Rhod.
Stay, Paradine. If thou dost mocke my hopes
With a slow motion in this iust designe,
Expect to finde my anger fatall. Ile to
The King, and make a forfeiture of both
Our liues: but if with hardy sinnewes thou dost march
To's Throat, and slit the swarthy Pipe, I'le call
Thee then my Souldier. Besides thy Countries thanks,
Thou shalt enioy me for thy Queene, thy Wife,
Paradine.
Parad.
New Arts, t'inuolue imagination!
How can this be, and my owne wife strongly
Possess'd of health and nature!
Rhod.
Would'st thou imbrace so eminent a blisse,
VVithout some danger to thy soule?
Parad.
My memory betrayes my skill! I know
There are a thousand wayes to discard her,
From this foule, durty Orbe.
Rhod.
Alas, good easie Soule! She'le ne're be miss'd
Parad.
How! False!
Rhod.
She is a open whore, and hath taught me
This Art of lust.
Parad.
More horrible then Hell!
Now furnish but my hands with an Hower-glasse,
And a long Dart, then seat me on some rotten
Monument for the picture of leane Death.
Make me the common Executioner
Of Nature. For ere long I shall become
The Sextons Pensioner to fill his Graues.
Valdaura false!
Rhod.
Wilt thou thus leaue me in a wilde suspence,
Whether I shall finde thy courage actiue?
Parad.
For credit of your owne humanitie,
Doe not infringe the vulgar priuiledge
Due to all hearts. Giue me but leaue to thinke;
And ne're doubt your businesse! Though I'm a young
Sinner; yet I shall soone inquire the way
To hell. Tis a continu'd thorow-fare
From this Climate thither. Or let me but
Delay my iourney, till the triuiall rage
Of Christian Princes, meete in horri'd battaile;
And then I shall haue company enough:
VVhole throngs to choke the throat of hell.
Good night, Madame.
Rhod.
Ere yet the Morne's faire cheek hath lost her teares,
Dost call it night?
Parad.
To me it seemes the Eye of heauen doth winke.
All things are cloath'd in darkenesse, blacke as your
Designe.
Rhod.
Stay, for else my rage will not permit
That we suruiue another meeting.
Distill my thoughts into thy eare.
She hangs about his necke whispering.
Enter Hermegild, Valdaura.
Her.
Though t'assist my great hopes with opportune
Induction, I consented to this act:
Yet now I chide my fond spirits. For who
Dares trust th'vnruly appetite of youth?
What I decreed she should but taste, she may
Delight to surfeit on. It shewes fulsome!
Here's the precious medicine that must restore
Health to my hopes. Follow, gentle Lady.
You see 'em now?
Vald.
Fall, fall, you thicke and spungy clouds, vntill
You choke my sight. Doe not my eyes begin
To bleed at this obiect?
Herm.
Marke how close they meete: what variety
They vse in lust: now she hath melted quite his lips
With her hot breath, she hangs vpon his eare.
Suruay their gestures still. Now they depart.
Exeunt Parad. Rhod.
Vald.
Ile summon all the hierarchy of heauen
To censure 'em!
Herm.
VVho knowes but they are gone to wallow in
Their actiue sweats agen? Alas, pure soule!
You perceiue these figures no Idea,
No obiect of the minde, or ayre incorporate
To cheate imaginary view.
Vald.
Was this the cause, that made th'adulterous Queene
So strictly vrge my swift iourney vnto
Pauia?
I, and the motiue that prouok'd my soft
Conscience to hasten your returne, that you
Might tell sad tales to heauen. For I
(That still was nourc'd vpon a Sybils Lap)
Who with prophetick Milke did nourish me,
Can deepely guesse at th'ominous portent
Of sinne. I hate such loose-rein'd Stallions;
Such lasciuious harmony in guilt.
Vald.
So soone proue false? ere the celebration
Of our marriage Rites were fully ended?
Ere the Sunne in's iourney o're this Region
Had twice beheld thus incorporate
By holy Church, and smil'd vpon the hopes
Of our increase?
Herm.
I, there's a contemplation that would crack
Euen heart-strings made of wyer. Hymens Taper
But newly lighted, and he with rude breath
Blowes from the quickning weeke the gawdy flame.
Then in the darke, thus wilfully misse-takes
Your bed, and riots 'tweene vnlawfull sheets.
Horror! horror!
Vald.
O my sinister Starres! Thus I shall weepe
Till I haue emptied all my veines.
Herm.
What should such white and harmelesse soules as we
Do crawling o're this mountainous Earth? Alas,
We cannot drinke, till we intoxicate
A Whale, nor surfeit, till our greazie cheekes
Doe swell like Th'vdders of a Cow. Nor can
We kneele like warme Idolaters, vnto
The rusty metall in a bag. We want
These helpes to gaine vs honour and esteeme.
Vald.
I haue a resolute intent to die,
And seeke my Mansion in a purer Orbe.
But ere you doe begin your last walke, ith' path
Inuisible, some meritorious act
(Ioynd to the Charter of your Creed) should helpe
T'assure your future blisse.
Vald.
O name it, ere my sorrow shall decay
My strength: for I would mix abilitie
With will.
Herm.
Your Lord (foule, and sinfull as mortalitie
Can make him) Salamander-like, shall bathe
In blue fires, vnlesse by sufferance here
On earth, he penetrate the heart of heauen,
And soften their decree. It will be call'd
Your merit to reuenge his crime, euen with his death.
Vald.
Would you haue me kill him?
Herm.
Since I am strict to vertue, I must needs
Be cruell vnto vice. Let him not liue
To increase his owne guilt, and betray more
Ladies.
Vald.
But shall I iustice take from powerfull Heauen,
And vse it with such cruelty?
Herm.
Beleeue my skill in sacred Oracles,
My piety to warrant the designe.
Nor will I fright the frailty of your Sex,
With horrid circumstance; he shall not bleed,
This Violl doth containe a draught; which if
In's vsuall Beueridge powr'd, will coozen him
Of's leprous soule in his most quiet sleepe.
Vald.
I doe suspect my courage!
Her.
Tak't, faire Pupill! think on't in your prayers.
If you but enioy one single motion
That informes you it is good: do't with pride
And boldnesse masculine. Distinguish thus
Its operation. Foure dayes must fully take
Our hopes. Before that houre ariue, he must
Be wrought to kill the King.
Aside.
Vald.
The Violl liquid Lead containes, or else
Some farre more ponderous Metall: for whilst
I beare it thus, the weight seemes to infuse
A Palsey in my hand. I tremble like
A string touch'd on my Lute.
Herm.
It is the Fiend, that would dehort you from
A pious act: trust not his whispring charmes
But with a hardy courage, (more then is
Naturall in thy modest Sex) proceed
To merit heauen. And now requite my forward zeale
To vertue, with concealement of my name,
And interest in this act. Let not the Queene
Nor your false Lord, know me the Perspectiue,
Through which you saw their rauenous lusts, but say,
The King reueal'd it to your eare. 'Twill make
Them wilde, and doubt their owne confederate Bawds.
Thinke not I forbid it as a danger
To my person; for I affect not life.
So soft and easie-metald is my heart,
So well I loue your sinfull Lord, that when
I heare the surly Bell proclaime his death,
Like some new-weand Babe, I shall dye crying.
Vald.
Would you haue him kill'd, yet loue him thus?
Herm.
I, but I loue heauen better. Where, when
I come, troth I shall prooue too fond a Saint.
Those Votaries that pray to me, shall finde
Their businesse soone dispatch'd: here, let this key
Obscure ye in my Clozet vntill noone:
For then the Queene expects you will returne
From Pauia. Farewell, the most abus'd,
Exeunt.
Enter Grimold (in an old rug gowne, muffled with cloutes) Gondibert, Vollterri.
Gond.
This is the priuy Gallery: place the Chaire,
Vollterri, where it needs must interrupt
The Kings passage.
Vollt.
If thy disguize should faile vs, Gondibert
And I must be attach'd for Impostors.
Grim.
And then be crop eard too, like Irish Nags.
You'le both prooue fleete in a Race, prouided
The foe charge ye in the Rere. Seate me with
Tender motion—This luxurious Citie
Hath made me so rotten, I dare not walke
Ith' winde, left I should be blowne in pieces.
Enter Hermegild.
Gond.
Quick now counterfeit! Here comes Hermegild.
Groane out like a Bore.
(Grimold groanes.
Herm.
Who ownes that sicke clamor?
Gond.
One (Sir) presented here to tempt compassion
From all charitable eyes.
Vollt.
Want hath betray'd him to hunger, hunger
To this disease.
Grim.
O, O, O, the Crampe! the Crampe!
Herm.
Where, Sir?
Grim.
In my stomacke.
Herm.
That's indeed a cleere symptome of famine.
Grim.
I'ue eaten nothing this moneth but raw ayre,
And that giues but weake nourishment to age.
Herm.
It is my wonder, in a State so rich
By nature (flourishing with hopefull Springs,
And Summers chok'd with wealth) a Souldier should
Be forc'd to make his hunger a disease.
A prodigie vnparaleld, that want
Should e're occasion such a dangerous fast.
Wast not deuotion made him thus abstaine
From meate?
Grim.
Pure want, Sir, I know small deuotion, I.
For though I fast much, I pray as little
As most Christians of my Calling.
Groanes agen.
Herm.
He must be sent vnto some Hospitall,
There eate warmth broths, till he recouer health:
And then I will procure him from the State
Some thrifty pension, to maintaine the short
Remainder of his life in sober works.
He shall sing Hymnes, and pray to the kind Saints
In a blue gowne.
Grim.
Alas, Sir, I am growne so hoarce, the Saints
Can hardly heare my Orizons.
Gond.
He will prooue (my Lord) a chargeable Cure:
For the Physicions do prescribe him nought
For med'cine, but Aurum-Palpabile.
Grim.
The Elixir of Gold would surely much
Asswage the griefe in my stomacke—
Groanes.
Herm.
He must needs be hungry, that like th'Ostridge
Can digest Metall.
Vollt.
The King for his last seruices remaines
His debtor sixe thousand Duckats. My Lord,
You shall expresse much charity, if you
Procure it in a sudden payment. The same will
Defray his sicknesse charge, and maintaine him
Well in's health.
Your Lordship shall ingage vs then to drowne
Your chiefe Title in the best Grape. Wee'le drinke
Your health, vntill we raise the price of wine.
Herm.
Let him continue there his seate. Perhaps
They (whom I shall straight conduct this way)
Will so commiserate his want, that he
Will soone relieue't, though he increase his owne.
There is some Arte in this, which I must needs
Discouer, or forfeit my paines.
Exit.
Gond.
The Fiend is gone!
Grimold rises.
Grim.
Will all the vast accruements I proiect
From this disguize, conuert into
The slender purchase of an Hospitall?
Vollt.
Thou turne Votary?
Gond.
He'le pray in no language but the High-Dutch,
The angry Tongue, which seemes to threaten more,
Then implore.
Grim.
Six thousand Duckats for a Mansion in
An hospitall, no bigger then a coffin:
Where like Carthusians, we must feed, not to
Preuent hunger, but to hinder lust. Princes
May easily pay their debts, when they inforce
Their Creditors to buy Titles and Place
At their owne rates.
Vollt.
Harke! there's somebody approaching hither.
Tis no safe game to sport with Kings. I'le be gon.
Gond.
Grimold, now trust to your owne performance,
I may haue vse for my eares, I would not
Yet leaue them in the Pillory.
Exeunt Gond. Vollt.
Grim.
Gondibert, Vollterri! forsake the storme
Ere ye are wet? Weezels! Monkeys! Dogs!
Drops downe in's Chaire.
Herm.
Madame, you are now fully satisfied
Ith' intention of this visit. I wish
You'ld be as free, and sportiue with him, as
Your modesty will giue you leaue.
Thes.
Trust my obedience, and my skill, Sir.
Albo.
He lookes like a watchman in that Rugge.
Herm.
Your Maiesty receiues new cause to doubt
The truth of his disease, from my Seruants
Information. Who sweares, this very Morne
Hee hath been seene in all the violence
Of drinke, and ith' Burdelli too. For, Sir,
Though he be old, he's giuen much to propagation.
Albo.
Let vs retire 'tweene th'Arras, and we
Shall share, ith' whole discouery.
He groanes.
Thes.
Alas, who is't, that so prouokes the tongue
Of pitty!
Grim.
An old souldier o' the Kings—
Thes.
Hah! Captaine Grimold! how come you thus
Imprison'd in a Chaire? haue you the Gowte?
Grim.
I am not rich enough t'inioy the Gowte.
Thes.
What name then doe you giue to your disease!
Grim.
The Physicions call it famine.
Thes.
How? Heauen secure the State! I hope we are
Not guilty of a sinne so horrible,
To deny a Souldier fit materials
For conseruation of his life.
Grim.
Tis fourteene dayes since I haue had a iust
Occasion but to picke my teeth.
Thes.
Alas the day!
Grim.
Each of my thighes are dry'd, and hardned like
Are shrunke vp. My bladder is no bigger then
A-Pigs: and were my leane iawes vnmuffled,
You should see me mumpe, like a Matrone that
Had lost her teeth.
Thes.
O cruell starres!—
Grim.
Hah! Does she weepe?
Thes.
Could you on this wide Earth, finde no obiect
For your fury, but braue Grimold? Or is't
Because you saw, it was my chiefe vertue
To affect a Souldier?
Grim.
If she should be in earnest now?
Thes.
I hope you doe not vtterly despaire of life?
Grim.
I may linger out a score of yeeres, or so;
But I cannot liue long.
Thes.
Since you are mark'd for sudden death, cold death
That silenceth all tongues: and since this place
Is so secure from neighbouring eares, I will
Disclose, what vntill now my modesty
Inforc'd me to conceale.
Grim.
I shall forget to counterfeit!
Thes.
Know, Sir, that I haue lou'd you long; lou'd you
With soft and tender passion.
Grim.
O Rogue! What doe I like the picture
Of VVinter, in this wither'd habit? I must
Recouer my health. But alas, Madame,
Doe not deride his destiny, that now
Is taking flight to reach that place, where your
Best Starre inhabits, and shall haue power
To tell loud tales: if you prooue thus cruell.
How could you e're loue me? I haue been old,
Euen since your first originall growth.
Thes.
But if you will permit, I may expresse
Informe you, Sir, how much we Ladies prize
Age before Youth in Louers. Old men are
Discreet sinners, and offend with silence.
But young men, when the game is done, doe crow
Like pregnant Cocks: boast to the world their strength
In folly. Besides (Sir) an authentick
Lady sayes in her Problemes thus:
The Young and slender Graft is easly broke,
But who can shake, or bruise the aged Oke?
Albo.
A rare Adage.
Herm.
The Lady Author sure, is o'th' Moddernes.
Grim.
My ioy is turn'd to a disease; it makes
Me speechlesse! I euer thought these Court-Tits
Were much taken with my smooth lookes; but that
Their modesty still kept them from my reach.
Foolish modesty: It has hindred my
Preferment much: for since I left the Campe,
I haue been in loue with some three hundred
Of 'em, yet neuer durst lay claime to one.
Vh! vh! If Heauen should so affect
Our mutuall appetites, as to restore
My health, would you continue still to doate
Vpon an old sinner?
Thes.
O, I should grow more fond; preserue you long
Aliue with zealous Orizons!
Grim.
Las! poore Maulkin! She's caught! I shall grow rich.
For I haue heard, these Court-Ladies allow
Large pensions to their Paramors. Helpe! helpe!
To mooue me higher in my seate—
She takes him by the hand, he rises.
Thes.
Blesse vs! me thinks, Sir, you begin to vse
Your legges with actiue strength.
A precious Ape!
Albo.
He will shew fine tricks anon!
Grim.
Some strange influence from your touch, hath giuen
A second Youth vnto my faculties:
Before, I seem'd to crawle like to a Crab:
Now my ioynts grow supple, as if I were
Prouided for a Race. This hand inspires my strength—
Enter Cunymond, Frollo, Conrade.
Cuny.
I haue a Key, will giue vs passage here toth' Park!
Thes.
Vnhand me, Sir, for I shall forfeit all
My fame else. They'll thinke, I am immodest—
He spies them, then drops downe in's Chaire.
Conrad.
Captaine Grimold!
Frollo.
He sits like a Witch, sayling in a siue.
Cuny.
Hah! sicke! Gentlemen, auoid the windy side,
Lest he infect ye with his breath. I know
His disease, and whence it came, shortly
You'le see him weare a Curtaine fore his Nose;
That's now the newest fashion that came from Paris.
Frollo.
I, tis it: he has them growing on his
Temples here—They'll shortly be as bigge
As Turnips.
Conrad.
He must to Roterdam, to the fat Doctor there,
And be stew'd in a Stoue, vntill he spit
His venome out.
Cuny.
And whilst you are in physick (Captaine)
You fare like Oberon. Tis a very
Slender diet. The leane thigh of a Waspe
To dinner; and some two or three of your
Owne penitent teares for your beueridge.
Grim.
I'ue but so much breath left, as would make vp
Yet I will spend it in a hearty curse
For your deare sakes.
Cuny.
March on! If he doe finde himselfe agrieu'd,
Let him send me a challenge after his death;
And I will meete him, Ith' Elizian Fields.
Exeunt Cunimond, Conrade, Frollo.
Grim.
I will eate that Cunymond!
Albo.
How prompt the Slaue is, in's metamorphosis?
Herm.
To him agen, Madame?
Thes.
Alas, deare Captaine, what bodily hope
Can a young Lady haue of your performance,
That fall so soone in a relapse?
Grim.
When you depriu'd me of your hand, you took
Away my strength and heare: touch me agen,
And I shall walke stiffe as Cacus.
She lifts him vp.
Thes.
Take leasure in your motion, Sir.
Grim.
Looke, Madame. I creepe as other mortall do,
On the surface of the Earth—
Thes.
Me thinks you stand vpright too.
Grim.
I, a Ladies warme hand will make it stand.
A little physicke from your Lip, and then
My cure is quite finish'd—Hem! Sure this was
Nestors receipt to recouer his Youth. Hem!—
Thes.
I shall be sainted for this miracle.
Grim.
I am as wholesome as a Nut, and haue
As proud flesh about me, as the youngest
Gamester of 'em all.
Thes.
Fye, Sir!
Grim.
If this heate continue, I must e'en call
For a Iulip, or sow my wilde Oates
In the next soyle I meete.
Thes.
Your tongue is blister'd!
When shall we solace our bodies?
Thes.
Your meaning, Sir?
Grim.
I meane ith' darke. Speak prety Finch with the
Greene taile? Hah! Must we kisse close, and often?
Wriggle vp and downe like young Eeles—
Hermegild comes behind him, and puls him by the arme.
Her.
Captaine, I haue brought the King here to view,
And to commiserate your leane sicknesse,
And your feeble wants.
Albo.
Thou old rauenous Goate!
Herm.
He lookes now like an Alchymist, that is
Broyling o'red Herrings.
Thes.
Or like the brazen head, when 'twas about
To speake—
He takes the King aside.
Grim.
You meane to hang me now!
Albo.
Hast thou deseru'd an easier sentence?
Grim.
When I am dead, then all my debts are pay'd.
For I leaue small Lands and Chattels behind me.
But hearke ye (my Liege) you may pay your debts
In your life time, so depriue your Executor
Of a trouble.
Albo.
O what a triuiall exit shall I make
From my owne world? for when I die, I die
For loue.
Grim.
And I for lechery. Sir, I would faine
Depart in quiet like other young Chrysomes:
Faine makes all euen betweene the world and me.
I beseech your Highnesse discharge my areres
For my last seruice in Hungary,
Then hang me when you please.
Captaine, I will be a Sutor for your reprieue.
You shall onely forfeit what his Grace owes you;
And then your life's secur'd.
Grimold kneeles.
Grim.
I will rather die twice. O Sir, pay me
Six thousand Duckats, and then proclaime
Your sentence here aloud. I would faine dye
Merrily. I haue not been drunke at my owne charge
This foure moneths.
Enter Rhodolinda.
Albo.
Hermegild, iterate now thy sweete raptures.
Speake to her; for, by th'gentle carriage of
Her eyes, I doe perceiue she 'gins to penetrate.
Thes.
Away Captaine! be gone whilst you are yet
Mortall I haue much power with Hermegild,
And will vpon your patient sufferance
Redeeme my credit with your thoughts. Quick then,
Mooue with silence.
Exeunt Grim. Thes.
Herm.
Madame, the feather'd Arrow sings ith' Ayre,
Ere it ariue where it must wound; so this
Sweet harmony, I'ld haue you counterfeit,
But tempts him to security in sleepe,
Before his death.
Albo.
I'm much oblig'd to that good soule.
Herm.
True, my Royall Lady! yet now peruse
The greatnesse of his being, his fate in battailes,
And by your owne remembrance be inform'd
Of our captiuitie.
Albo.
Honest Hermegild?
Rhod.
He was too cruell to a nature so
Remisse, and timorous as mine?
Herm.
Alas, this crime he expiats with sighs
So hot, that they would sindge his Royall Beard,
Did not his numerous teares opportunely drop,
To quench the flame.
That's complement!
Herm.
These angry frownes vpon your browes make you
Appeare aged.
Rhod.
Could I assure my heart; he would no more
Triumph o're my deare Fathers memory;
I then should meet his loue with too much passion.
Albo.
When I am more my Chronicle, or speake
My deeds with pride, may my tongue blister, till't
Infect my breath with Epidemick-heate.
Herm.
You heare his vowes?—Seeme fond. If you can shead
A teare, or two, the more to credit this
Atonement, 'twill much aduantage our pretence.
Sir, now enioy what your indulgent griefe
Merits to keepe, e'en from the hands of death.
Good heart, see how shee weepes?
King kisses her.
Albo.
I'm soone o'recome in this soft warre. S'death all
Can thaw but I. I neuer wept, but when
Th'vnruly winde blew in my eyes; and tis
No argument for sterne battaile: else I
Would fight. To testifie the ioy my soule
Conceiues, Ile drinke—
Herm.
Sir, you neglect to vse her like a Louer;
With amorous gestures.
Albo.
Fill me a Bowle with Negro's blood, congeal'd
Euen into Liuers! Tell her, Hermegild,
Ile swallow Tarre, to celebrate her health!
Herm.
Sir, this dull Germane phrase, makes her suspect
Your temperance. Marke how she trembles.
Albo.
I must go learne to complement. Dost heare?
Is't fit I proffer her to mingle limmes—Thou know'st—
Herm.
Sir, not to night. That was a serious sute
She bade me make, when first she purpos'd this!
Atonement.
I do obey. Though I haue thoughts would faine
Perswade me to rebellion.
Exeunt Albo. Rhod.
Herm.
This was a subtill caution! else my hopes
Had twice been Cuckolded. Let 'em reuell
With their salt Lippes. Th'other sport is fulsome.
But Paradine disturbes my sleepe: he's young,
Enrich'd with all the fertill strength of nature:
And needs must prooue more riotous in sinne,
Then I. My darke practice, and vse
Of silent contemplation; has made
My marrow thinne and black; like Inke within
My bones. I want the prompt alacrity. The Queene
Hath tasted him, and may (perhaps) still to
Possesse his lust; remooue Valdaura from
This foggy Soyle; then make him Lord of all
My hopes. This to preuent, I haue decreed,
Valdaura first shall minister his death.
Iu'e taught her too; t'insinnuate to his Creede,
That the King told her of's adulterous lust;
Good, for whē he thinks the King doth know that guilt,
His owne safety then, will soone prouoke him
Hasten our prodigious murther. This may
Be done, before the Poyson operate
In dire effect; for that delays its power;
Till fourescore houres expire their course: which then
No Antidote, nor humane skill resists.
Mount, mount my thoughts, that I may tread on Kings,
Or if I chance to fall, thus soaring high;
I melt like Icarus, in the Sunnes Eye.
Exit.
Enter Paradine, and his Page.
Par.
The Sun doth melt vs with his scorching beames.
Till I am cold.
Exit Page.
The constitution of my Soule, agrees
Not with this Climate. I grow weary
Of mortalitie. Euen in my first growth
(Since my Corselet was my loade) I haue tooke
My breeding in the Campe; where had I still
Remain'd a dull practike souldier, and nere seene
A Woman, nor the Court, I might haue had
Some hope, to gaine by faith, but now I reach
At wilde despaire.
Enter Page with a Bowle.
Page.
My Lady, Sir, commends her loue, and this
To your acceptance; she made the mixture
With her owne hands.
Par.
The Queene prescrib'd this houre for her returne.
That she growes black with sinne, peruerts my sense,
I must seem not to know't. Say, I greet her health-drinks.
Exit Page. Enter Valdaura in close mourning.
Parad.
Hah! why, Valdaura, dost thou appeare like
A funerall night, in darke, and swarthy weedes!
Valdau.
I mourne for you, since you must hasten your
Eternall absence now from me, and all
That else are mortall.
Par.
Speak things, that are lesse dangerous to my sense.
This wonder will distract me.
Vald.
Ere winged Time shall with swift motion adde
Another houre, to th'life of this sicke day;
Thou shalt begin thy last sleepe.
Parad.
A pale Swanne hath sung my Dirge! O fatall
Musick! but how comes this intelligence
To Eares of flesh and blood? haue you of late
Been gossiping with the grim Stygian Dames,
For to my owne sense I need no Physicke.
My faculties enioy that pleasant strength
Which appertaines to youth and temperance;
Why should I yet die?
Vald.
How, Paradine? Art thou so full of guilt,
(Most vlcerous and deform'd) yet thinkst to keepe
Thy life at Natures charge, t'exist till age
Makes thee a Cripple: then in thy bed,
(Like some good old Patriarke) thy soule dismisse
With a diuine rapture? No, no; iust Heauen
Prouides more rash and horrid deaths for such,
As in adultery bathe their silken limmes.
Parad.
Hah!
Vald.
I know thy guilt; the King hath told me all.
'Twas wondrous strange! Our vowes but new arriu'd
In heauen, that did obliege our mutuall Faiths
In loue: and thou with sauage lust to breake them?
Though griefe hath much consum'd my teares, yet I
Haue some still left t'expresse my pitty.
Parad.
My adultery already knowne, both to
The King and her? why, these are prodigies
Indeed. How sinne imboldens the aspect!
She doth accuse me for a guilt which yet
Remaines vnpardon'd in her selfe. Mine was
A dire mistake: but hers—that must be knowne,
And then her veines shall weepe.
Vald.
You are poyson'd, Paradine.
Parad.
With that cold draught you sent me now ith' Bowle?
Vald.
The Vipers vomit, nor the blue steame,
Which fat Toades doe breathe in tired motion,
Beares not such a dangerous enmitie
'Gainst humane Nature, as that you drunke.
Stay! Me thinks I feele no insurrection
In my blood, nor need an Iron Corselet
To containe my flesh; sure it swels not yet.
Vald.
It takes a subtill leasure to disperse
Thorow all your Organs, and your Arteries,
That it may straite with abler violence
Consume your strength.
Parad.
And then I shall look goggle-ey'd! and stretch
Ith'cheekes, till my face shew like a Pompeon,
Round and yellow?
Vald.
Farre, farre more deform'd.
Par.
Will't make my eies start from my skull, or drop
Like bullets at my feete? Speake, shall I fome
At mouth like some young Courser, that is hot
And angry with his bit?
Vald.
Not the first Chaos was so vgly and
Confus'd, as you'll appeare, when this distilment works.
Parad.
Yet I forgiue you all, e'en from my heart:
Whilst my cogitations now are sober,
And can distinguish things with pregnant sense.
I doe applaude this cruell benefit.
These subtill vanities of Court haue tyr'd
My obseruation. I was nourc'd within
Some Armory, and tooke a proud delight
In actiue Warre; but since our Drummes haue ceas'd
Their noble clamour, I finde no businesse
Vpon Earth for me; tis fit I grow immortall.
Vald.
I did not thinke, his fancy, at this newes,
Could proue so temperate.
Par.
To sleepe in cold earth, whilst my dead neighbour
Neuer at my Coffin knocks, to inquire my health,
By way of visit: for all are silent
In the graue. Harsh destiny! Such as I
Vald.
My nature you shall finde much different,
From what your knowledge heretofore discern'd.
I haue contriu'd another way to punish
Thy adulterous heate.
Par.
You find my sufferance tame enough. Publish all!
Vald.
To meet your sin with apt reuenge, I'm growne
A foule loose whore.
Par.
Hah! containe thy speech. Expresse but so much
Modesty, as may secure thy life: for
My death doth not concerne my rage so much,
As this foule murder of thy fame.
Vald.
Tis truth: and I confirm't with pride.
Par.
Oh, oh! these are the Mandrakes groanes (fatall!)
For whoso heares them, straight incounters death.
Now smile (sweet Heauen) since thus I but returne
Her owne iustice. For my adulterous act,
She takes my life, and shall I let that bold
Adulteresse liue?—
Stabs her with's Ponyard.
Vald.
Oh, oh! Hold, hold! Leaue me a little breath
To vse in prayer.
Parad.
I am not fraught with diuels spleene; I would
Not hurt thy soule: here solitary sit,
Whilst I send vp an humble sacrifice,
That shall bespeake a pardon for thy crime,
Ere thou ariue neere heauen.
Puts her in a Chaire.
Vald.
Dare you trust my last vtterance?
Par.
O speak, ere thou dost catch an euerlasting cold,
And shalt be heard no more.
Vald.
I am not false vnto your bed: I ne'r
In act, nor guilty thought, did violate
My Marriage vowes.
Parad.
Art thou not a Whore?
No Vestall that preseru'd with quickning oyle,
The sacred flame, was in her chastity
More cold, more timorous then I: nor are
You poyson'd.
Parad.
Hah! was not that a mixture of distill'd
Venome, which I drunke?
Vald.
'Twas healthfull, as the blood of Grapes to age,
And all your faculties doe still preserue
Their wonted harmony.
Parad.
Sweet spirit, doe not riddle thus with Heauen,
Nor sport thy soule away. Why didst accuse
Thy selfe of sterne murder, and pernicious lust;
Yet art thus cleere from both?
Vald.
'Twas to inrage your violence, with hope
To make you soone my executioner.
For hearing you were false, I found no ioy
In life: your hand hath seal'd my wishes.
Par.
New Arts t'increase my wonder: I'm orereach'd,
Where I thought my nature was most skilfull!
E'en in loue! O stay: had not distraction
Ceaz'd my memory; I should at first haue told you
The mistake, by which the sinfull Queene
And Hermegild betray'd my chaste Honour.
Vald.
Nam'd you Hermegild, guilty of that sinne?
He's then a horrid hypocrite: he did
Entice me by a poysonous practice to
Contriue your death, but found my nature loyall.
Parad.
New wonders still!
Vald.
I feele the frozen hand of death. Oh! oh! oh!
Parad.
Valdaura! Bride! Onoble Girle!
Vald.
Mercy! mercy!
She dyes.
Parad.
Already turn'd a Ghost! There's rare musicke
Now in heauen, since thou art gone t'increase
The purple skie, mix'd there with other Starres,
But neuer on this soile agen. Be this
Thy Tombe awhile. The Curtaines softly drawne—
Hermegild treacherous! with poyson too?
That was her word. Tis fit I seeme t'haue drunke
The med'cine vp. Good! The rough young Souldier
May spie at last these spirits of the Court,
That walke in artificiall clouds: or if
Their high conceptions so are aboue my reach,
Yet they haue mortall hearts; such as our owne
Country steele, may with feeble motion prick,
Pricke till they groane: for I haue now decreed,
Whom my dull sense cannot subdue, shall bleed.
Exit.
| The tragedy of Albovine, King of the Lombards | |