University of Virginia Library

2 Scene.

Enter Infelice, Corvino, Cardente.
Am.
Here's the Dutchesse,

Inf.
Wee'l heare you straight Corvino. Fye Amanda,
Have all your seeming vertues lost themselves
In one foule staine?

Am.
Madam let me prevent
Th'abusing of your faith: my honour suffers
In nothing but a counterfeit of that,
With which I mockt her curiosity,
That else refus'd all satisfaction;
And in't betray'd her selfe to the discovery,
Of such an inclination, as to thinke on't
Renewes the blushes which you say my cheekes
So late have lost.

Card.
Nay, Madam, I made shew
Of any thing that might discover her:
Told her I had beene privy to such cases,
And many a Ladyes fall.

Inf.
Enough Cardente.
But let not such things be your sport hereafter.
Jealousie is a spirit which once rais'd,
Will hardly be commanded downe agen;
And honour is a substance too too nice
To play withall

Am.
I dare expose my eslfe
To th'tryall of her jury.

Inf.
Urge no more;
You are believ'd Amanda. Now my Lord
(To Corvino.
We give you hearing.

Cor.
Madam, I would whisper
The secrets of my soule.

Jnfe.
Withdraw Cardente.

(The Ladyes retire.
Corv.
Madam, if ought appeare an errour in me,
Condemne it not with too severe a sentence,
Till I have pleaded my excuse: I love you:
The generall graces of your minde and person,
In this my setled age hath rais'd high flames:
Which cherisht by your favour will preserve me,
Or quite consume me, if they waste themselves
In your disdaine. The disproportion
We weare in outward titles, makes me feare
You will refuse consent; and yet I hope
(Not urging the Dukes favour) you'le allow
My suit consideration, and your answer.

Inf.
My Lord Corvino you have honour'd mee
In your opinion; putting such a glosse
On my defects, that I appeare more worthy
Then really I am. My age is subject
To those decayes, that render the unfit
For amorous delights.

Corv.
Your beauty, Madam,
Is in that freshnesse yet, that were I warm'd
In your faire bosome, all the frost that hangs
Vpon these haires would quickly be dissolv'd,
And a new spring of livelinesse and strength
Quicken this cold and passive earth that holds
An Icy soule within it. You'ld restore me
To my best youth agen.

Infe.
This love hath taught you
The long neglected practice of your Court-ship:
Forbeare it, good my Lord, my griefes are yet
Vnapt for flattery.

Corv.
Then give me leave
To speake in plainnesse my desires, that are
You would admit me to your sweet embraces
In lawfull fellowship. You'ld satisfie
My longing passions, and your sonnes request,
And pay those services that I have done you;
Which some might but my selfe dare not presume
To call desert.

Infe.
Your faithfull servines
Have beene rewarded with degrees of honour,
And I expect your gratitude. I never
Discover'd such ambition in your temper,
Which alwaies seem'd to levell its just aime
At faire equality. Then good my Lord
Consider your attempts, and how they make
Your vertues much suspected.

Corv.
If you dare
Call it a pride that I seek such addition,
Know there's no substance now depends upon
Your empty title which can make a difference,
But I will reconcile it by my merit,
I am not so inferiour to be check't;
Nor weake in power, but that I can revenge
A scorne that is dishonourable.

Infe.
Doe not
Adde to your ills Corvino. This had sence
As if it did imply you would not owe
A Duty to me now for that you meant
Some treacherous discovery. Take heede
Of base ingratitude, 'twil staine your fame
(which good men call their life) with such a Leprosie,
As time can never cleanse it from.

Corv.
I then
Must count my selfe refus'd.

Infe.
Yes for a husband.
I must prepare for heaven: Nor shall I ever
Admit of new desires whilst the lov'd memory
Of my dead Lord presents it selfe.

Corv.
Your Pardon.
Onely you may consider, 'twas his will
Melissa should be Dutchesse.

Infe.
Not without
The free election of my sonne, who now
Leaves it to time and counsaile. Thus you still
Shew your ambition. Dearest Spurio welcome,