University of Virginia Library

Actus Quartus.

Scena Prima.

Enter Cleantha and Floriana.
Floria.
Thy pride is such a flatterer of thy beautie,
That no man sighes by accident, but thou
Dost pitty as enamour'd.

Clean.
Floriana!
Not so kind natured surely. I have put
The sighes of Courtiers in a scale, and finde
Some threescore thousand may weigh downe a fether.
I' have tryed their teares, which though of briny taste,
Can onely season th'hearts of fooles, not women.
Their vowes are like their duells, ever grounded,
Upon the idlest quarrell.

Floria.
This, experiences
Perhaps instructs you to. But yet your pride
I feare is over easie to beleeve.
Tis meerely to flye idlenesse, that my Lord
Hath troubled you with courtship. If the Queene
Would make a statesman, she might cure a Lover.
Want of imployment made him dreame on beauty,
And yours came first t'his fancie.

Clean.
I begin
To thinke his making love but vanitie,
And a mistake in wit.

Floria.
And you begin
Perhaps to feare it?

Clean.
True, perhaps I doe.
For though we care not for the Lover, yet
We love the passion. Though we scorne the offering
We grieve to see it throwne away, and envie
If consecrated to another. Woman
Hath no revenge 'gainst th'injurie of custome,
Which gives man superioritie, but thus
To foole him to subjection.

Floria.
Yet Cleantha!
I could have wisht your charitie had spared
This triumph o're my Lord.

Clean.
You see I take
The next way to redeeme him. This the houre,
And this the place. Here he resolves to raise
A trophe in my ruine. And behold
Enter Sanmartino, winding up his watch.
The just man of his promise. Not a minute
He failes; when sinne's the payment.

Floria.
Ile indanger
His vertue to a blush: And happily
Convert an Infidell.

Clean.
This is my province,
Nor shall you envie me the honour of
A worke so meritorious. Let him walke
A while, and sinne with his owne fancie: Then
Ile undertake him: and if there be neede,
Be you prepared to assist me.

Floria.
Thou dost build
Such Forts on the opinion of thy wit.

Exeunt Floriana and Clean.
San.
Tis a full houre, and halfe a minute over.
And yet she not appeares? How we severe
Strickt Creditors in love, stand on the minute?
But yet the paiment never comes unwelcome,
Untill the gold, through age grow foule and rustie,
We stand not on a graine or two too light.
Enter Dwarfe.
Now your discovery?

Dwarfe.
My Lord I have
Made search in every Ally, every Arbour,
Not left a bush, wherein my littlenesse
Could creepe without due scrutinie. And yet
No whispering of taffetie: No dazeling
Of your bright Mistresse forc't me to a wincke.
I saw no mortall beautie.

San.
Sure shee'le not
Be so unworthy to delude me now?

Dwarfe.
But I had a more prosperous fate in love,
My Lord I met my mistresse.

San.
You, a mistresse?

Dwarfe.
A Mistresse to whose beauty I have payd
My vowes, most fervent vowes, ere since I was
Of stature fit to be an Amorist.

San.
One of the Maides of honor to Queene Mab?

Dwar.
Your Lordship guesses neere. For she is one
Oth' Chamberers to her Fayrie Majestie;
A Ladie of most subtle wit: who while
She puts a handkerchiefe or gorget on
Her little highnesse, holds intelligence
Abroad, and orders payment for the Spies.
She raiseth factions, and unites the angry.
She's much upon designe.

San.
Where found you her?

Dwarf.
Walking alone under the shadow of
A Tulip, and inveying 'gainst Court Arts,
'Cause one of Oberons Groomes had got from her
The Monopoly of transporting gnats,
A project she long aym'd at.

San.
No more fooling.
I am growne angry with my patience.
Boy, sing those verses, were presented me
This morning.

Dwarf.
I will creepe behind a bush,
And then for voyce, vie with the Nightingale:
If seene I am so bashfull.

Sanmar.
Take your way.

Song Without.
The Song in the fourth Act.

As the Song ends Enter Cleantha veil'd.
She breakes forth like the Morning in a Cloud.
Tis for the safety of my eyes, you veile
The glory of your beauties, which else might
Dazle, not catch the sight. But I discerne
A faire Cleantha through this gloominesse.
Appeare, and speake bright Madam. Why such silence?
O famish not my eare, which greedily
Longs to devoure the Musique of your Language:
Is it to teach me that delight must be
Intomb'd in secrecie? Or else to shew
How mad a spend thrift I'm to talke away
The treasure of this houre. Come faire unveile.

Clean.
O give me leave, yet to retaine my blushes.

San.
Deceite of timorous modesty! Traitors
To love your blushes are. Your feares are envious
Of your delights. Lets vanish hence and neere
To th'vulgar eye againe appeare: Till we
Growne old in pleasure be transform'd t' a Vine
Or Ivie, so for ever to entwine.

Clean.
Then I unveile.

San.
O flye into my armes,
As a rich odor to the ravisht sence:
Perfume me with thy kisses.

Clean.
Stay my Lord:
Actions of moment (as I take this is)
Must be maturely thought on. I have cal'd
My reason to account.

San.
Your reason Madam?

Clean.
Yes my good Lord. That onely doth distinguish
A woman from bruite beasts; or what's more sensuall,
A vaine loose man. What sinne scandalls my carriage
To give encouragement to this presumption?
What priviledg'd this attempt?

San.
That tempting beauty.

Clean.
It is a traytor then to my pure thoughts:
And to preserve your eye, would it were wrinckled;
I could much easier suffer the reproach
Of age, than your bold courtship. If a Lady
Be young and sportive, use curiositie
And perhaps Art, to helpe where nature seem'd
Imperfect in her worke, will you, from the
False argument of your owne loose blood, conclude
Her guilty? Or if she select a friend;
Whose innocence gives warrant to her faith,
Will you infer their whispers have no ayme
But that of Brothels? Cause you finde your selfe
Nought but loose flesh, will you turne Herctick,
And thence deny the soule?

San.
This language Madam
Sounds nothing to the purpose of our meeting.

Clean.
More to the benefit. But in your patent,
'Mong all the priviledges of a Conde
Where finde you lust inserted? Without which
Till age hath made you wise or impotent,
You thinke your honour is defective. 'Cause
Your cloathes are hansome, and mine too; must we
Deforme our minds? Is it sufficient motive
To sinne, if opportunitie and youth
Perswade us? Such as you, are those foule plagues
Infect the ayre which breathes our fame, and make
The cautious sirs oth' Country shunne us.

San.
Madam?

Clean.
When we admit you to our bedchamber,
Powder, or haply bath before you. What
Of honor's here more than a groome may boast,
Our maides are tired with? Yet this with a smile
Is whisper'd to your friend, and you inferre
How easie a more neere approach will be.
My Lord learne vertue, and your wit may then
Not serve you to so fond a purpose. If
That courage you are fam'd for be no slander,
Goe to the warres. Twill be a farre lesse maime
To lose an eye there than your honour here.
If peace enamour you, and the Court, live honest;
And hope the heire who shall succeed you, may
Be yours. Revenge destroyes more chastitie,
Than all the temptings of such Lords as you.

San.
You shall not talke me Madam from that pleasure
This houre doth promise me.

Clean.
You'le not commit
A rape my Lord?

San.
That is a question as
Yet unresolv'd. For force is my last refuge.

Clean.
Thinke on the danger; for the sinne I see
Little distracts your conscience.

San.
I propose
Felicitie, which none can merit, who
Refuse so poore a venter. Here I vow
No prayer or Art shall free you. If you will
Hazard a life devoted to your service,
Ile dye your Martyr.

Clean.
Come my Lord, Ile free you
From all such hazard.

San.
There spoke harmonie.

Clean.
Ile not be cruell. You shall have kisses, such
As will melt your soule into your lippes. And what
Is sweetest, no repentance shall be th'issue
Enter Floriana and Oniate.
Of your delight, Loose here my Lord. She's yours.

San.
No halter now? Not tree convenient? O!
A steeple would be precious for my purpose!
But Oniate's there. Ile fight with him;
Be kill'd, and be redeem'd. Sir you receiv'd
A challenge from me! but return'd no answere.

Oniate.
My Lord I had other businesse you'le excuse me.

San.
What satisfaction doe men give, when challeng'd?

Oniate.
According to their spirit. If they be
Regardlesse of their same, then they submit.
If not, they fight.

San.
What Sir, will you then doe?

Oniate.
Let me consider. Neither.

San.
Come you shall fight.

Oniate.
My Lord I will not.

San.
Then you shall subscribe
Your selfe a coward.

Oniate.
Not for the whole world:
Such an apparent lye would be a sinne
Too heavie to my conscience. I subscribe
My selfe a coward? If I should; no souldier
Would thinke but that my hand were counterfeited.

San.
Then you must fight.

Oniate.
My Lord on no condition. Hope not for it.

San.
Then you shall sweare, never to speake my name
But with respect.

Oniate.
Hereafter, if you can
Deserve it. For the present, I must crave
Your pardon with much mirth to laugh at you.

San.
Sir I shall meete you.

Oniate.
It shall contradict
All my endeavours then.

San.
I goe sir. But.

Exit. Sanmar. and Floria.
Clean.
For mercie sake goe with thy Lord. Repentance
May turne to desperation.

Floria.
Ile preserve him.

Clean.
Have you no businesse sir, imports you more
Than t'hold discourse with me? Troth I shall pitty
You want imployment.

Oniate.
Madam, what can be
More serious?

Clean.
Nothing more: If your designe
Be to convert me; for I know you hold
All Ladies in a Schisme, who are young and proud.

Oniate.
Your pardon Madam. I beleeve in cunning,
Court Ladies choose some pettie veniall errors,
To set perfection off. For should you not
Usurpe a hansome pride, your fame would lye
Like unwal'd Cities, open to the prey
Of each invading youth. Did you not shew
A scorne, you would deserve it.

Clean.
Sir take heed.
Hope not to win my favour, by extolling
What in our better thoughts our selves condemne.
I am so wearied out with vowes and oathes,
With impious praises and most tedious flattery:
That nothing but plaine speaking truth, can gaine
On my affection.

Oniate.
Madam! your affection?

Clean.
Pray sir doe not comment upon the word;
It doth portend no danger to you.

Oniate.
And if it did, where's the beatitude?
For though I grant you vertues great as beauty
Can entertaine; and foolish I resolv'd
To captivate my stocke of life t' a woman:
Yet would I not adventure on you, if
You did not vow to performe Articles.

Clean.
Suppose the businesse come to Articles.

Oniate.
Ith' first then you should covenant love, not squinting
On every finer youth, or greater Lord;
But looking streight on me.

Cleant.
To the second sir.

Oniate.
No dotage on the Court, so far that my
Estate must rue it: and no vanitie
Be started up, but my fond Lady must
Be melancholly, and take physick, till
She get into it.

Clean.
Why! You envie then
Us our owne trouble. Keepe us from the expence
And leave us to our discontent for pennance.

Oniat.
No: I would have the minde serene: Without
All passion, though a masque should be presented;
And you ith' Country. I must have you wise,
To know your beauty mortall: which you must
Preserve to warme my eye: not ayde by Arts,
To keepe the Courtiers wit in exercise.
From his so practis'd flattery, your care
Must turne with a brave scorne; and when his eye
Doth offer parley, seeme so ignorant
As not to understand the language.

Clean.
Sir
You haply will debarre us our she friends too?

Oniate.
As secret enemies who'le first betray you.

Clean.
Youle not allow us, wearied of our husbands,
To send them on discovery of new worlds:
Or if we take a toy our selves to travell,
Perhaps to Barbary, or Tartary,
Or the remotest parts?

Oniate.
To Bedlam sooner.

Clean.
Or if our Sexe should warrant it by custome,
To play at Tennice, or runne at the Ring,
Or any other Martiall exercize;
I feare me scrupulous sir, you will condemne it
As dangerous to my honour?

Oniate.
Sure I should.

Clean.
I then perceive small hope of our agreement.

Oniate.
But I a confidence. For I discerne
How much you loath these follies, you pretend.

Clean.
Good sir no more of this so kind mistake,
Youle finde some other Ladie more deserves it.
And I aspire not to the honour.

Oniate.
Ile try yet farther.

Exeunt Oniate Cleantha.
Enter Lerma and Velasco.
Lerma.
My Lord you offer nobly.

Velasco.
Tis a steppe
Beneath Florentio's greatnesse, whether you
His birth consider, or his place. Sir the Queene
By natures seated and her high deserts,
Where onely mighty soules (such as the Generalls)
May offer to aspire.

Lerma.
My Lord your laps
To this proud language is so injurious, that
I must be forc't to purge the humor. That
The Lord Florentio offers by a duell
To shew no man can have fairer pretence
To serve the Queene; must be allowed. But that
You dare cast disregard upon this Lord
Although a stranger, urgeth me to' intreate
Y'ould draw your sword:

Velasco.
It hath seene light, and made
Way through an Armie, when fond victory
Smil'd on our enemies. It hath done wonders,
When the thicke troopes of Moores invaded us,
It feares no opposition.

Lerma.
Shew th'effect of't.

Velasco.
Not in a cause so triviall. Each small breath
Disturbs the quiet of poore shallow waters:
But winds must arme themselves, ere the large sea
Is seene to tremble. Pray your pardon sir:
I must not throw away my courage on
A cause so triviall.

Lerma.
As you please my Lord;
But to omit all circumstance, you bring
A challenge to my Lord Ascanio:
The reason of the Lord Florentio's anger,
A rivallship in Love.

Velasco.
You speake it right.

Lerma.
Ile bring you backe his resolution,
Before you have attended many minutes.

Velasco.
Sir 'twill be descent, for my nature knowes
Not how to waite. And if no delayes
Be used, 'twill shew a fierce valour in him,
And happily prevent discovery.
For you may easily conjecture, that
A Generalls absence soone will wake the eye
Of the suspicious Souldier.

Lerma.
Is my Lord
In readinesse.

Velasco.
He walkes not far from hence

Lerma.
You shall have use then but of a short patience.

Exit.
Velasco.
It will be gratefull to us sir: My Lord.

Enter Florentio.
Floren.
And will Ascanio meete?

Velasco.
Immediately.

Floren.
I had no other way. Yet this is rough,
And Justice whispers tis unsafe to treade it.
If to love her be sinfull, what am I?
How dare I call his passion to the barre,
And nourish it my selfe? Why may not he
Who hath as bold a fortune, entertaine
As bold a love; and in the fate of warre
Having outgone my service, why not then
Present it to the selfe-same Altar? But
We cannot harbour both in the same Port,
Or he or I am shipwrack'd: for the storme
Is rais'd, and to appease it, death must be
The sacrifice.

Enter Lerma.
Velasco.
My Lord here is the second.
This stranger dares not meete with your great spirit.

Floren.
Suspect him not my Lord. He hath a courage
Above the sense of feare. Well sir your answere?

Lerma.
My Lord Ascanio could have wisht his life
Might have beene destind to a happier purpose.
And charged me tell your Lordship that he had
Much rather have beene lost with common dust,
In the cheape Churchyard, than endanger'd fame
In this great duell.

Floren.
Sir explaine his reasons.

Lerma.
He calls to his sad thoughts, the mischefes which
This Kingdome needes must fall into when you
Shall perish by his sword; certainely
You cannot scape it, thus provoking death.
Then to what ruine may the Queene, whose safety
You both have labour'd, be engaged? He could
With patience almost suffer on his name,
The infamie of coward, rather than
Hazard the quiet of her estate. But you.

Floren.
Let me consider, Tis an idle rage
That heates me to this quarrell, Let her fate
Remaine unshaken, though she choose my foe
Into her love and bosome. If she live
Above the feare of ruine; I am mighty,
Mighty enough, though by my griefes growne feeble
And weakned too, diseases fright the healthy.
I will referre my cause and life to her,
And ne're dispute it by the sword.

Velasco.
My Lord!

Floren.
Velasco, I am safe enough against
The taint of Coward. Spaine beares witnesse that
I dare, as farre as honour dares give warrant.
But in this cause.

Velasco.
My Lord you'le lose the glory
Of all your former Actions; and become
The mirth of Courtiers, empty things who braule
Not fight, if you returne after a challenge
Without performance.

Floren.
Tis a serious truth.

Velas.
Moreover this young Gentleman hath hope
To talke you from your resolution:
The Lord Ascanio will too much exult,
If this way too he can orecome you.

Floren.
It must not be sir, tell my Lord I waite
His leisure.

Lerma.
And your Lordship shall not have
Reason to thinke it long. Prepare your selfe
His onely prayer is now; that when he comes
There may be no discourse to take up time,
He hath desire the businesse may be all:
What he can say, hath beene by me delivered.

Exit.
Floren.
We will obey him. Tyrant Love! Why is
Thy crueltie so wanton to delight
In murder? Like that impious Roman Prince,
Thou joyest to smother, whom thou lov'st, in Roses,
And stifle them with the choysest perfumes. But
This is no place for reason; She may hold
Dispute in sober schooles, where studie raises
The soule to knowledge. Here's the Theater
For the bruite part of man to fight his last,
I must redeeme the Laurell, fortune crown'd
His Temples with, or perish in th'attempt.
My fate decrees it.

Enter Ascanio, and Lerma.
Lerma.
Here's my Lord Ascanio.

Floren.
Why doth he turne his face away as if
He durst not looke on danger: Doe his feares
Now triumph ore his courage.

Lerma.
Put it to the tryall.

They fight.
Floren.
He's more than Mortall sure. He strikes like lightning
Himselfe not passive. But Ile try agen,
And disinchant the Sorcerer. I there
I reacht him home. You bleed, open your doublet
The wound perhaps is dangerous.

Ascanio.
But a scratch.

Floren.
Sure I have heard that voyce, and seene that face,
Velasco tis the King.

Ascanio.
My Lord what meane you?

Floren.
Some Planet strike me dead, and fixe this arme
A monument to tell posterity
The treason of my errour: Mighty sir,
Shew mercy to your Creature, that my death
(Which hastily steales on me) may not be
Too foule for after story.

Ascanio.
Rise Florentio,
This act cannot endure the name of Treason.

Floren.
Some Surgeons quicke to search the wound! O sir
How doe you feele your selfe? speake life, or I
Shall sinke downe to my Center.

Ascanio.
Not a man
Stirre hence, thy sword was loyall as thy thoughts,
And scarce hath peirc't the skin. O my Florentio.

Floren.
My Lord and King! But why did you engage
Your sacred person into danger? Twas not well;
How many thousand lives depend on yours?

Ascanio.
Envie oth' greatnesse I possest, without
The merit, and desire to know those perills
We wantonly our subjects cast upon
On every weake exception; wrought my youth
Into this action. Nor can I repent
Th'experience of this warre?

Floren.
But oh great sir,
Why did your Majestie suffer this duell?
Twas cruell and unkinde. How easily
This hand might have committed sacriledge?
The very thought whereof, like some pale vision
Congeales my blood.

Ascanio.
Search not that wound to deepe.
Florentio! I shall blush, blust like some Ladie
Surpriz'd in sin, if you too farre examine.

Floren.
Conceale it not great sir, though in the speaking
Poyson steale through my eare. Be confident,
Unvaile your thoughts.

Ascanio.
You needes must hate me then:
And will have Justice to throw off that duty
You owe me as a subject. Let it be
Unspoken still; though smothering it be death.
Good heaven defend. What is an Armie of us
Exposed to certaine slaughter, if compared
To th'shortest moment that should serve your quiet?
And shall I live and see my Soveraigne weare
A sorrow, on his brow?

Ascanio.
Florentio! thou
Art glorious in thy vertue. So was I
Till looking on the Queene I grew oth' sudden
Darker then midnight?

Floren.
O my cruell fate!

Ascanio.
I grew a theefe, a most ungratefull theefe
In my designes, and labour'd to have stole
The Jewell of thy life from thee. A Jewell,
My selfe so freely had bestowed upon
The merits of thy youth.

Floren.
My soule foresaw this.

Ascanio.
How justly had I perisht by thy sword.
How happie for my safety. Then had I
Beene lost in my disguise; or dyed, my crime
Unknowne unto the world. Now if I live
I must wade through a sea of injuries,
T'attaine an unsafe haven.

Enter the Queene.
Floren.
Cheere your selfe
Dread sir: Though as I give the Legacie
I breath my last; yet will I shew a heart
Thankefull to your great favours. Madam, here
Behold the Soveraigne of Castile.

Queen.
You have
Beene cruell in your kindnesse Sir, to keepe
So long your sacred person hid from us.

Floren.
He is your Lover Madam, and deserves
The title. Whether you observe his youth,
So beautious, Nature dotes upon her worke:
Or weigh his greatnesse powerfull to defend you,
Should fate and all mankinde conspite your ruine;
And adde to that, he merits you, his sword.
Having restored you freedome: when poore I
Was judg'd like some old instrument of warre
Unfit for service. All my interest
I here resigne to th'Author of my fate;
My Love I cannot, which must still remaine,
Companion to my life. But Ile take heed
My wound appeare not, though it inward bleed.

Exit.
Ascan.
I waite here Madam, and attend your sentence
For 'tis my doome.

Queen.
Sir I am that sad wretch,
Stands trembling at the barre. I know your merit,
And know a gratitude, great as ere was owing,
By an injured soule releev'd. I duely weigh
That double tye which doth obleige me yours.
First when you sent your souldiers to my rescue;
Then by exposing your most sacred person
To th'dangers of a warre.

Ascanio.
A triviall nothng.

Queen.
What honour can come equall to my state
As by so high a match? And 'gainst your person
The envious cannot finde a quarrell.

Asca.
Madam
All this is circumstance, the politicke
Busie their fancie with. I bring a love,
An humble love, which is of value to
Enoble the parcht labourer, and force
An Emperesse listen to his vowes. Consider
In me nothing of fortune, onely looke
On that, to which Love new created me.
If once receiv'd your servant; what's Castile
In the comparison? For Princes are
Too bold, if they bring wealth and victory,
To enter competition with those treasures
A Lover aimes at in his Mistresse favour.
May I not hope your smile?

Queen.
You must command it.

Asca.
Then give me leave to whisper to my hopes
What strange felicities I shall enjoy.

Queen.
But sir, consider how you gave away
To your Florentio, all that claime, you might
Have to me, as so great a neighbouring Prince.

Ascan.
It was a gift my ignorance made, which I
Was cozen'd in. For had my eye beene honor'd
With sight of such a beauty; safer he
Might have petition'd for my Scepter: And
The grant had not so soone begot repentance.

Queen.
But promises of Princes must not be
By after Arts evaded? Who dares punish
The breach of oath in subjects, and yet slight
The faith he hath made them?

Ascan.
But my Florentio,
Hath given me backe his intrest.

Queen.
That gift
Was like a vow extorted, which Religion
Cancels, as forc't from Conscience.

Asca.
But your selfe
Are free, and never by an oath made his.

Queen.
My resolution, grounded on his service,
Ties more than formall contracts.

Asca.
Ile not urge
You farther, but by these, which never yet
Found passage through my eyes not he, nor all
Mankinde contracted to one heart, can harbour
A love that equalls that I burne with, Madam
Thinke on't: and let your thoughts finde out that path
Which leades to mercie.
Exit. Ascanio.

Queen.
How I am dazled,
Plac't on a precipice by tyrant Love?
The King is Noble, and his merits claime
A retribution great as I can make.
He loves me; and yeelds onely to Florentio,
In the priority of service. My sad soule!
Enter Florentio, lookes on the Queene, sighes and goes in againe.
Betweene these two I might stand distracted!
But Vertue guide me: Nor can I ere stray
While that directs, and honour beates the way.

Exeunt.