 | The Vnfortunate Mother |  |
The Fourth Act
first Scene.
The Scene being the Gallery.Spurio and Fidelio.
Fid.
'Tis an unkindnesse thus to be reserv'd,
And hide the causes of your discontent:
The priviledge of friendship should be larger;
And not confin'd to any weake respects
That bound its limits. I should not conceale
My secret'st sinnes from you, but for the scandall.
Spu.
Fidelio, I am lost in such a mist
Of doubts and errour, all my reasons faculties
Cannot instruct my knowledge how to find
A way that leades to truth,
Fid.
If any counsell
My weake abilities can ayde you with
May be thought usefull—
Spu.
Vrge it not Fidelio;
To know and not to remedy increaseth
The suffering more.
Fid.
My love would not interpret
Neglect or jealousie to be the cause
Of these expressions; if you doe inspect it,
I then may ground a feare you have declin'd
Your wonted purity: and through the guilt
Of some foule act makes shame o're sway your reason,
You doe enforce your blushing soule to be
Th'unwilling prison of so vile an evill
You dare not give it liberty.
Spu.
This is
Such an extreame Fidelio, I should rather
Admit of flattery then to be taxt thus.
Time and your neerenesse to me might have taught
Your knowledge, something by observing me,
The coursenesse in my humour, that it pleas'd me
To heare my selfe commended: but the life
Of honour being wounded by detraction,
Or any false aspersion, 'twere a sin
Equall to guilt should I neglect to cure it
By any testimony; though it forc'd me
To Praise my selfe, above all the degrees
Of moderation: Therefore good Fidelio
Neither be partiall to me, nor let weakenesse
Interpret any private act of mine
From common rumour: such an even temper
Would make our friendship lasting.
Fid.
I my Lord
Thinke you so farre from being vitious,
Your scruples scarce allow those vertues in you
A merit, which to us might be examples.
Spu.
I meant you no such priviledge.
Fid.
Beleeve it,
I will not flatter you; for sure you have
Some easie faults, that will admit th'excuse
Of frailty: such as love.
Spu.
Is Love a sinne then?
Fid.
Yes, when it burnes with a corrupted flame;
And lights desire to what is sensuall onely,
Without regard of ought that makes our difference
The most refin'd and perfect in its nature:
Beasts have their lust.
Spu.
I almost understand you,
But sure you dare not thinke me forward that way;
Your errour were not friendly: neither is there
A Lady so neglected: she would court
My shallow worth, or yeeld if she were courted.
Fid.
There is that Magick in your masculine graces,
Th'have charm'd the beauty of the Court to love you:
And 'tis arriv'd my knowledge.
Spu.
What's that beauty?
Instruct my ignorance.
Amanda sir,
And though she be my sister, I doe give her
No attribute, fame and the generall voyce
Confirme? not to her.
Spu.
With that name thou hast
Charm'd me Fidelio throughly, and recall'd
My apoplexi'd thoughts to their first life.
Mine eyes were blinded with the Dutchesse so,
I could not see that happinesse which now
I wish next to my eternity. But give me
Assurance good Fidelio.
Fid.
That were vainenesse;
And now I must confesse you had great cause
To be disturb'd: professe love to the Dutchesse,
When you had given Amanda such deepe earnest.
Spu.
What earnest meane you? yet I ne're saluted
Her eares with a request; or urg'd the grant
Of what you say, her inclination
Would freely give me.
Fid.
Why should you expresse
This nice unwillingnesse to be discover'd?
The knowledge of't as yet is limited
To a small number, and the memory
Of her dishonour will be quickly lost
In a faire recompence.
Spu.
There's nothing cleere
To me in this darke mistery, but that
The beauty you call sister is a Whore:
Is it not so?
Fid.
Your selfe can best interpret,
And yet me thinks another name would sound
More Court-like; and not have halfe so much offensive:
For though she have the staine, I know she holds
That noblenesse of spirit, none but such a one
As your full selfe could ever win her to it;
And a faire satisfaction vow'd withall:
Which sure you will performe.
Spu.
Thou art a villaine;
Single thee out to be so much my selfe;
The union of our soules would not admit
Of a division, but that interchange
And custome taught us read each others thoughts?
And can that soule of thine expresse it selfe
Subject, so easily to be corrupted
With jealousie and errour? Then let Moralists
Fable henceforth no empty name of friendship,
Nor boast there's such a secret: I shall never
Weare thee more here.
Fid.
This is no satisfaction,
I dare beleeve your innocence; if you
Dare urge it solemnly, and thereby give it
A confirmation.
Spu.
That my pitty cannot
Deny thy weakenesse: witnesse Heaven—
Fid.
Enough,
You shall not sweare; I credit it, and my penitence
(Kneeles.
Humbles me for your pardon.
Spu.
Rise and take it:
But I would know upon what circumstance
This jealousie was grounded.
Fid.
Th'information
Came from Cardente, and her owne acknowledgement
Of her desires to you. But she shall dye,
Her shame must not out live her.
Spu.
How Fidelio!
Mocke not thy selfe out of eternity,
By such a sin will likewise render thee
A scorne to memory: her innocence
May suffer falsely. 'Tis not supposition,
But proofe that must condemne her; sure there cannot
Be lodg'd in such a frame as is Amandas
A thought but noblenesse: I'ld soone take
A wither'd Anchoresse into my suspect,
As her sweet purity.
Fid.
You'd have her live then!
Why not? to make me happy.
Fid.
Marry her,
And to't agen; 'till that confirmes all lawfull,
I must forbid more pleasure.
Spu.
What words fall
From thy distraction? dar'st renew thy guilt
By a worse second jealousie?
Fid.
You'l be
Her Champion too? this zeale of yours confirmes
That truth which was but doubt.
Spu.
I shall forget
The place hath any priviledge; but come sir,
Since my cleere protestations will not satisfie,
Wee'l argue it with these.
2 Scene.
Enter Amanda, & Melissa meeting them.Fid.
There will not be
Much Fallacy.
Offer to goe.
Am.
Is your beleefe good brother
Yet rectifi'd?
Fid.
I must not owne thee: hence.
Spu.
Since she is heere—
Fid.
This trifling smells of cowardise.
Spu.
Away then.
Offer to goe agen.
Am.
What's the meaning? two such friends
To be divided!
Mel.
By that interest
To Fidelio.
My love doth challenge, let us know the motives
To this strange anger.
Fid.
Pardon me Melissa,
I must (though willingly I would not doe it)
Forget your vertues.
Am.
Let our teares divert
To Spurio.
Your rash and violent purpose: trust me sir,
Unlesse a noble cause hath fir'd your spirits—
Spu.
'Tis yours Amanda.
Am.
Then I understand it;
And challenge it my priviledge to order
Your reconciliation. Brother, know
Your errour hath dishonour'd you so much,
My fame and inocence, I must not owne you.
To raise a scandall of high consequence
From such an empty and perverse suspition
And not to cleere it with the satisfaction
Both of protests and testimonie, argues
A soule lesse noble than the generous blood
Of our brave Ancestors successively
Inherited; producing actions,
The subject of large stories. Let Melissa
Witnesse th'intent; a humorous counterfeit,
To mocke Cardendte curiosity
Into an apt discovery of her selfe
And wicked inclinations; that we knowing them
Our care might shun her courses.
Fid.
This Amanda
Beleev'd would bring me peace agen.
Mel.
Beleeve it; For 'tis a truth cleere as the innocence
Of babes: after the holy ceremony
Hath purg'd th'originall staine.
Fid.
I am confirm'd;
And aske agen your pardon! Yours Amanda
I doe presume upon.
Am.
Your noble anger
Hath such a faire excuse, that I must thanke you.
Your errour onely was your fault, and that
My pitty pardons freely.
Spu.
This hath likewise
Restor'd me to new hopes: and faire Amanda,
If your esteeme hath added any worth
To my defects that make them seeme perfections,
Such as may please your chast and free desires;
If you'l possesse me with the happinesse
Of blessed union, 'tis the onely one
That I would covet.
Am.
Let my blushes speake
A maids consent, and in them you may read
My thoughts direction that made you their object;
Mixing themselves with feares, hopes, jealousies;
May it be crown'd with such a faire event,
'Twill make your hand-maid happy.
Spu.
'Twill but be A mutuall exchange.
Fid.
I hope our loves
To Melissa.
Are growne so ripe, the fasting of our joyes
Will not be long protracted.
3 Scene.
Enter Corvino, Bonardo, and Cardente.Mel.
Even when
It pleaseth the high providence.
Card.
My Lord
Observe how they are pair'd. Doubtlesse all's cleere:
And sure hee'l make amends.
Bon.
My Lord Corvino,
If your consent will ratifie—
Corv.
You need not
Urge it agen. Have you observ'd Cardente
Ought in Melissas inclination
(Corvino & Card. whisper.
Towards Fidelio?
Card.
That's it; she is strucke
With the blind Archer.
Spu.
From a cloud of errour
To Bonardo.
A light is broken that hath made new day
In our darke treasons, and directed me
To that which yeelds my being here a happinesse,
'Bove any forme I could prescribe my wishes:
My knowledge learnt it from th'imperfect motives
To your suspition; without which discovery
My ignorance had lost it: but it cannot
Be full till crown'd with your consent,
Bon.
You have it;
And I as freely pardon both your faults:
Your frailty doth excuse them.
Spu.
You'l returne
To your first errour; let not a new jealousie
Stagger our faire proceedings: We have climb'd
Halfe of our height already: and to fall
From such bright hopes.
Am.
As you would cherish duty
That hangs before your reason; you shall see
The whitenesse of my innocence: confirme it
With your beliefes (for truth is onely valued
As 'tis receiv'd) I shall meet his embraces
With all my Virgin sweets, like evening ayre
Without a cloud; when it but onely blusheth
To kisse the Sun at parting.
Spu.
'Tis receiv'd
As positive a truth as e're came from
A Sybills mouth.
Bon.
It hath restor'd thee likewise
To my now rectifi'd opinion:
Blessings dwell with you.
Fid.
Please you Lord Corvino
To Corvino.
With your consent to perfect what's begun
So fairely here; and make our union adde
Something to this dayes glory.
Corv.
Shee Fidelio
Wants much to meet your full deserts; your love
Perhaps she may: when I have order'd her
With some becomming counsells.
Bon.
Hee's my sonne,
And shall inherite honours and possessions,
With vertues to their best dependances;
Grant that you like of the election,
And the solemnities of both their marriages
To morrowes sun shall gaze at.
Corv.
Pray my Lord
Give me a fathers priviledge to prepare her
With some fit precepts; then few minutes shall
Resolve it.
Bon.
Wee'l expect.
Exeunt Bonar. Spur. Am. Fide.
Corv.
Melissa, you
Have made my age conceive as many hopes
As ever father did to make him happy.
Kill not their issue by a rash neglect,
And voluntary losse of that which perfect
And order'd judgements doe call happinesse;
Confin'd to a meane person too; if greatnesse
Were not a relative to all that's good,
And glorious in the generall speculation
Of things that doe affect us, not in sence,
But the bright part of reason; emulous man
Would not through danger mannage actions
So full of wonder, nor imploy his faculties
In high designes: but like a heavy lumpe
That onely by its weight moves to its center,
And there sleepes, so should we: leave no? so much
As the Record of any memorable
And brave atchievement, for a monument
That such men once had being. To be Dutchesse
Will not impaire your vertues; they would take
More luster from the title. Now Melissa
I'ld have you quench that low and common flame
That burnes towards Fidelio; and embrace
Those high desires I point you to: my pollicy
Hath order'd the successe, and your obedience
By your subjecting of it to my will,
Shall crowne you with full blessings.
Mel.
Honour'd Sir,
The duty which I owe you, and which ought not
Be mention'd without reverence, humbles me
Kneeles.
Thus to expresse it. If I could new mould
My frame and temper fit for such great honours.
I should embrace them with the entertainement
Of my most ready will. My constitution
Is of too course a matter to receive
Such nice impressions. Those whom Heaven hath
Ordain'd for Princes, are of purer earth
Then common mortals sure; and by instinct
Both know, and order their high difference,
To make it fit for greatnesse. If I were
The Dutchesse sir, my thoughts would still betray
Me to my selfe; and such imperfect actions
Receive their ordering from my weake abilities,
They'ld render me a scorne to those, that otherwise
Corv.
Your unwillingnesse
Playes with illusions that are vaine and empty.
In what are you defective but your will,
That's regulated by a childish humour?
Let your consideration weigh th'events
Are incident to both: when you are Dutchesse
You'l be above the danger of your fortune;
And awe that weake necessity to which
The other may be subject.
Card.
Sure your father
Saith right sweet Lady; there's much difference
Betwixt the Dutchesse and a subjects wise;
Betwixt a chaire of State, and a thrum'd couch;
A Wardrobe that would furnish a Iewes Lumbre,
And one embroydred petty-coate for Sundaies;
And that perhaps not paid for too. Be wise,
Obey your father Lady and be Dutchesse:
'Twill be the better choice.
Mel.
Content abounds
In riches, when the owners of cramb'd Treasuries
Unsatisfi'd are beggers. Sir, the Duke
Having refus'd me, how can I affect him?
And where love is enforc'd.
Card.
Why there's your priviledge,
Great Ladies ought not love: their husbands more
Then in a just proportion of state.
Corv.
Melissa, I doe find your inclination:
And though my zeale intended your advancement
Which you your selfe refuse yet my: indulgence
Tyes up mine anger: onely I must wish you
Consider throughly.
Mel.
Sir, my duty shall not
Give way to any act without your liking;
Although I have desires I can restraine them
From satisfaction.
Exit.
Corv.
Would Fidelio were not
His love, a love diverts her.
Card.
There are meanes;
Corv.
Thou art wise Cardente,
And canst be secret too for thou and I
Know something hidden to the world: 'Tis better
Give her some Philter, that may raise in her
A flame towards the Duke.
Card.
But is there vertue in any such?
Corv.
My youth hath made experience,
And I am furnisht with that is powerfull:
I beare it still about me.
Card.
Good my Lord
Impart it to my use; I faine would have A Husband yet.
Cor.
Why thou maist have Fidelio,
A yong and handsome Lord. It chiefly workes
Upon such disproportions; share it justly.
You both must take it; for in that consists
The magick Sympathy.
4 Scene.
Enter Polemici, and Vittorio.Card.
Ile to my Closet
And pray, then love.
Exit.
Cor.
Polemici, where left you
My valiant Sonne?
Pole.
Notho! hee's in the presence.
Corv.
When you returne, desire him meet me in
The Grove behind the Garden.
Pole.
I scarce thinke
Hee'l owne you when hee's Duke: Vittorio,
What think'st thou of this riddle?
Vitt.
'Tis a hard one, he to be Duke and lawfull!
Pole.
He beginnes
To forme himselfe fit for't: he takes survey
Of all that he supposeth showly must
Bow to his humour: tell's me hee'l new mould
The State, and we shall be advanc'd.
Vitt.
To th'Gallowes.
Pole.
I doe not like such raysing; let's be honest;
And though we cannot make a full discovery
Of this so close and intricate proceeding,
Wee'l intimate some feares that may betray him
To jealousie and care; that watchfull eyes
It may be stifled by prevention in the first birth.
Vitt.
His favours yet deserve
We should preserve him.
Pole.
Yes, I would preserve him.
But chiefly from the dangers incident
To such a vaine ambition, into which
Hee's flatter'd by his father: but upon
What ground, I doe not thinke the divell ownes
A perfect knowledge: Sure he cannot thinke
There's power in his successe to make him popular,
And leade the multitude in their disorder
To wish an innovation first, then practise it.
Vitt.
He saith it is his right.
Pole.
But where's the testimony?
Hell on these darke devises. Well, let's be
Like valiant Souldiers in the Reare, that dare
Goe on, whilst the front stands to be their bulwarke:
But breaches made therein to shew them danger,
In flight they put their safety. Let's observe,
And adde more to our knowledge; then resolve:
He that persues an act that is attended
With doubtfull issues, for the meanes had need
Of policy and force to make it speed.
Exeunt.
| The Vnfortunate Mother | |