 | The Vnfortunate Mother |  |
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.
| The Vnfortunate Mother | |