 | The Vnfortunate Mother |  |
The first Act
first Scene:
The Scene being the Presence.Fidelio and Beneventi.
Beneventi.
Our Mourning's ended, and the Court agen
Lookes like the Morning, when the Easterne ayre
Is painted with a mixture of her blushes,
And the Suns golden glory.
Fid.
So it should:
Great Princes Death's but like a short Eclipse
Darken the Orbes they lighted, 'till another
Spreads his succeeding beames: We have his sonne,
As full of hope as ever promis'd state
A happinesse; and now he's risen, we
In his warme favours, as in those, which time
So lately dispossest us of.
Ben.
I shall not
Court them with any flattery.
Fid.
His temper
Is vertuous, Beneventi: He'le admit
Of no such practice; and his minion too,
The noble Spurio, such a rare example
Of a good great man.
Ben.
That's your partiality,
Because he is your friend.
Fid.
Wrong not th'integrity
Of what is reall in me. By my hopes
Of a faire memory, there's not a charme
In greatnesse hath the Magicke power to sway
My reason with affection, but true merit,
That bindes me. I ne're coucht unto the humours
Of any great one yet; or stil'd my selfe
Th'admirer of his vertues, if they were not
The true steps to his raising.
Ben.
Sure the Dutchesse
Affects him with a more than common favour;
As if there were some secret interest
That yet scapes publick knowledge.
Fid.
Be not jealous:
'Tis the rude peoples vice. In our pure difference
There should be nobler thoughts.
Ben.
You love his sister.
Fid.
Yes Beneventi: can my wishes covet
A greater honour?
The second Scene
Enter Spurio.Ben.
Here's your friend, the favourite:
He'le pay his sisters portion in some Office
Beg'd of the Duke; and with the Dowery which
His Father gives her buy himselfe sweet pleasures;
Or a new glorious ward-robe. How he stands?
As if some frownes of the new Duke dejected him,
And made him feare a fall.
Th'art too severe
And Cynicall. This bitternesse might move
Another spleene: but prethee Beneventi
Doe not presume on priviledge. A friend
Shares so much of my selfe, he cannot suffer,
But I am sensible by a consent
And an affinity of parts.
Ben.
Ile honour him
At your commands.
Fid.
My honour'd Lord why thus?
(To Spurio.
Spu.
Fidelio, welcome to mine eyes; thy presence,
Like Sun-shine, hath illuminated my darke soule,
Clouded with melancholy.
Fid.
What's the cause?
You flow in honours.
Spu.
Oh Fidelio,
Be not too curious: shouldst thou know my sufferings,
Thy Physicke cannot cure them. Beneventi!
Fid.
My friend, my Lord.
Spu.
Then mine. My friends must be
(To Beneventi.
Like Chaines, the first linke leads on his dependants.
Instruct me how, then use me.
Ben.
I shall study
A gratefull service.
Fid.
Pray doe not conceale
What's your disturbance. By communicating
You'le lessen something of the suffering,
In making me partaker.
Spur.
I shall adde to't.
We shall be like two neighbour buildings, when
A flame proceeding from the one hath seiz'd
The others roofe, it makes the burning greater.
Friend let me suffer, be thou free.
Fid.
Report,
Perhaps, hath multiply'd, and rumour's growne
Pregnant with issue, that your noble brother
Wants the successe we hop't for.
Spu.
Ha! my Brother!
The later waites upon the first, as slaves
Act their Directors wills. No my Fidelio,
A certaine knowledge newly's come to Court
Of his sure victory, and his arrivall
Is suddenly expected, that it may
Crowne this dayes (yet unperfect) glory. Friend,
My joyes transport me, that I share in blood
With one so worthy: But the peace that waites
Vpon his Conquest cannot stay the warre
That is within me.
The third Scene.
Flourish. Enter Macario, Infelice, Corvino, Melissa, Ladies.Fid.
Here's the Duke and Dutchesse,
Compose your selfe.
Maca.
Griefe, Madam, should be like
A short Sea-storme; 'soon as a calmer ayre
Hath smooth'd the rugged waters, there's not seene
The least impression which the formers rage
Made on their even surface. I am still
Your sonne in duty, as in blood; And though
I share not in this outward act of sorrow
For my dear Father (since the mourning ceremonies
Of Court should be prescrib'd to stricter limits
Of time, than where th'affaires and men are private)
His memory presents it selfe as fresh
To every apprehension that assailes me,
As when his living precepts taught me how
To be a Prince, by more than the election
Of Fortune and my Birth: His vertues shall
Be (as I hope) my soules inheritance,
Well as his dignities: Ile be directed
By their examples.
Inf.
Deare sonne (for my love
Bids me make use of Natures priviledge,
And leave out other titles) I have joyes
Greater within me, than those weake ones, which
Onely take life from the expression,
And quickly dye, the object once remov'd.
Yet give me leave to temper them with mixture
Of some sad thoughts, lest their excesse may grow
Of contrarieties will whet the sence
With a fresh appetite, preventing surfeits.
My comforts swell, like a full tide, to see
Thy growing state propt up with such advantages,
As show it unto all mens expectations
Int's future flourishing: A Counsaile grave
And wise as ever order'd policy
From the best unresisted principles:
Men, whose designes set downe the acts successe
As positive as Oracles. Thy Spurio,
Thy almost selfe; a man so rich in soule,
And all her best dependancies, he gives
Honour to greatnesse, by the noblest using
Of a Court-favourites power, that ever yet
Deserv'd a record. Next to him, thy Champion,
His valiant brother; one, upon whose Plumes
Victory danceth as they fanne the ayre,
Whispering the voyce of Tryumph. Thou art guarded
With such a generall loyalty in Subjects,
That if thou slept'st amongst the multitude,
Even when some rage possest them, undefended
With any Armes but that, th'imperfect slumber
Need not be broken with a feare. Macario,
These teares are teares of joy: and yet I cannot
Chuse but reflect upon those times that gave me
Th'embraces of thy Noble Father.
Mac.
Madam,
The losse you suffer is repair'd in me;
Ile owne no honours, nor delights of earth,
But what my duty shall conferre on you:
Making your present greatnesse equall to
The former without discontinuance:
I will call nothing mine, more than a title,
And ceremonious out-side.
Cor.
Would you'ld please
To take your seat, and give an audience
To what I shall deliver.
Speake Corvino.
Your Oratory hath power to draw attention,
What e're the subject be.
Cor.
'Tis that that makes
Language harmonious. 'Tis your selfe, great sir,
Both your owne private and the publicke good
Must be my Theame. In part it likewise hath
Relation unto your eternity,
For Princes never dye that have faire issue.
Your marriage sir.
Maca.
I'me yet too yong, Corvino.
Cor.
Y'are old in judgement, and in all the parts
That make a Prince up absolute. Too yong!
Some carefull Parents (and such providence
Might be a good example) in the child-hood
Of their lov'd sonnes, have made election
Of hopefull beauties, that they might be sure
To keepe their names alive in their posterity.
You are mature enough: now therefore know,
Your dying Father (to whose memory
We owe a reverence) when his fainting Spirits
Labourd for helpe from all their weakned Organs,
He breath'd these last words: Let my Sonne (quoth he)
Marry betimes; and if he makes his choyce
'Mongst his owne subjects, let him place Melissa
In his first thoughts.
Ben.
Where is your honour now?
(To Fidelio privately.
Cor.
I doe not urge it as she is my daughter,
Through an ambition that affects such greatnesse:
Sir, my desires are humble; and on those
A safety waites, whose comfort Ile not lose
For all the others flatteries.
Mac.
Blush not Lady.
If Fortune hath design'd you for a Princesse,
To Melissa.
The favour's worth the courting with a smile,
And cheerefull aspect, so't transport you not
From a becomming duty.
Mel.
Gracious Sir,
(Kneeles.
Suit not with my condition. If it be
Decreed by providence, I can obey,
But never wish.
Mac.
Rise lovely maid.
(Riseth.
Fid.
My Lord,
(To Spurio in private.
I'me lost to all the happinesse that ever
My hopes shew'd me a way to.
Spu.
Have no feares:
She's constant; and Ile soone divert the Duke,
Even here in publicke.
Mac.
Faire Melissa take
Thy Princes grant.
Spu.
Of what sir? Doe not mocke
Your reason into error. Y'are a Prince
And every act of yours concernes a state,
Not your meere person onely: what you doe
Must therefore deeply be consider'd on,
Before your will allow it execution.
Princes should wed with Princesse: where there is
An innate Majesty on both sides, that
Well mixt, makes up an issue fit for rule,
And the successive dignities. Besides,
A State is strengthned by alliance much:
It may enlarge your Territories to,
By times kind working. We have neighbour Princes,
That gladly would bestow their Female heires
Upon your highnesse; and by such a choyse,
Your subjects with your selfe might gaine a happinesse.
Mac.
You, Spurio, counsaile this?
Spu.
He cannot owne
A duty worth your cherishing with favour,
That will not urge it home.
Mac.
She is your sister;
And 'twould be some additions to your honours
(Though they are many which your merits challenge)
To see your sister grac't with the high Title
Of our great Dutchesse.
'Twould be disadvantage
To all that's good within me: For although
No policy preserves my Actions
Free from suspicion, but their owne integrity,
And that hath shew'd them cleare without abuse
Of favour or of power; yet if I were
The brother of the Dutchesse, I should hardly
Scape envy, where I now have love.
Mac.
Brave spirit,
Thy vertue moves me.
Ben.
How his father frownes?
To Fidelio privately.
He's mov'd another way.
Spu.
If you esteeme it
A vertue in me to suppresse desires
That beare me higher than the moderate pitch,
Cherish it still, and doe not with addition
Of favours make me lose th'opinion
Of being good in my prosperities:
Such flatteries may tempt me to aspire;
My flight holds even yet.
Mac.
My dearest Spurio,
How thou appear'st in this humility!
Nor doe I think it any counterfeit
To whet my yet cold appetite. Her forme,
Though it be full of active fire, enough
To move the dullest earth, wherein a soule
Hath made its habitation, I not doate on:
Nor will it prejudice your worth Melissa,
In that your Prince refuseth you: Affection
Must not guide us but counsaile.
Mel.
You have done
A justice unto me and your owne honour:
I shall be happy when my Virgin freedome
May make an equall choise.
Mac.
That choise shall want
No honour we can give it. And deare Madam
(To Infelice.
Your selfe have youth enough, and beauty yet
T'admit a second fellowship: Elect
Vertue and judgement guide you.
Infe.
I am happy in my unhappinesse, that time hath left me
A husband still; thy Fathers memory
Preserv'd in thee my Son: I know no widow-hood
Whilst wedded unto that.
Mac.
Yet if hereafter
You would at any time conferre such honour,
Let it be Lord Corvinos.
Spu.
Ha! my father!
To Fidelio priuately.
Nam'd he not him Fidelio?
Corv.
To my selfe
You shew me my defects, by the faire light
Of your too gracious and too great opinion;
All the desert that I can have, must be
Of your creating.
Flourish.
Mac.
These events shall be
Exeunt Mac. Infe. Ladyes, the rest remaining.
Referr'd to time and providence
Corv.
Sonne Spurio.
Ben.
Now will he schoole his Son for being honest.
'Tis an ambitious Lord, yet strives to hide it
To Fidelio whispering.
With politique hypocrisie.
Corv.
Your Child-hood
Grew up to riper yeares in such obedience,
As promis'd duty to me; how you should
Decline that goodnesse from the hopes conceiv'd
Strikes me with wonder. Sure you were instructed,
And taught to know men by the study of
Their difference; and in what one may excell
Anothers being: Greatnesse is no vice
That you should shun it, and your Sisters honours
Would neither have impair'd yours, nor mine:
'Tis not so dangerous caring to preserve
Aboundance, as to labour with necessity;
And though it might be reall temperance in you
To shun so great additions, yet it shew'd
Little obedience that you contradicted
What I propos'd.
Sir 'twas from your example,
You urg'd it not as an ambition;
If your desires were humble, mine were so:
I preferre safety sir as well as you,
Before the flattering dangers that are incident
To th'other.
Coru.
You have mis-interpreted
A modest feare, an absolute deniall.
Besides; how unbecomming 'tis t'accept
A prest consent with greed inesse; it argues
Desire without desert: but since you are
So nicely morall, by my selfe I will
Advance my selfe. The Dutchesse bed will be
An honour I ne're thought of.
Spu.
How sir! you
Marry the Dutchesse?
Coru.
Hath your greatnesse taught you
To practise scorne on me? or are you swolne
With an unnaturall envy? I shall hatch
Practices 'bove your reach; and teach your sister
T'obey as well as love: 'tis not your humour
But my command that must dispose of her:
Nor will I aske your leave to have the Dutchesse.
Be what you are, and keepe your Princes love:
Y'have almost lost a fathers.
Exit.
Ben.
How he stands?
to Fidelio.
Some wanton lobby Lady sure hath laid
The issue of her pleasures to his charge;
For which the old man chid him.
Fid.
I much feare
Part of the cause is mine.
Ben.
Two hands in a dish,
The right Court Ordinary.
Fid.
Prethee bee
More serious. Why agen dejected thus?
Spu.
I have newes for thee Fidelio.
Bene.
Pay the Post.
Spu.
Thou must not have my Sister.
Ha? 'tis horrour.
Ben.
Then 'tis not honour.
Spu.
She must be dispos'd of.
Fid.
How? for the Duke?
Spu.
My father so resolves it.
Fid.
Then I have lost—
Ben.
Iust nothing.
Fid.
Thou prophan'st
A worth, that bids my justice punish thee.
Ben.
She's nothing worth, nor to the purpose, if
You have her not.
Fid.
If there be more impart it.
Spu.
I love the Dutchesse.
Fid.
So doe I your Sister.
Ben.
And I love both.
Spu.
How is that Beneventi?
Love both?
Ben.
Yes, both alike; that is, love neither.
Spu.
My rivall is my father.
Fid.
Mine my Soveraigne.
Ben.
Then if I be your second against either,
Let the Axe make me first a headlesse monster;
And Surgeons next in publicke search my parts,
To find where treason lay and patricide.
Spu.
What Fates are we two subject to?
Ben.
The worse
If you attempt to better them.
Spu.
Fidelio,
We will consult a little; I have had
Grounds for strong hopes, I'le not be flatter'd by them;
But worke with policy. There is within me
A warre 'twixt love and duty: one must be
Destroy'd to quit and set the other free.
Exeunt.
| The Vnfortunate Mother | |