University of Virginia Library

Actus. 1.

Scæna. 1.

Cupid commeth out of the heauens in a cradle of flowers, drawing forth vpon the stage in a blew twiste of silke, from his left hand Vaine hope, Brittle ioy. And with a carnation twist of silke from his right hand, Faire resemblance, Late Repentance.
Cupid.
There rest my chariot on the mountaine tops,
I that in shape appeare vnto your sight
A naked boy, not cloathde but with my wings,
Am that great God of Loue, who with his might
Ruleth the wast wide world, and liuing things.
This left hand beares vaine hope, short ioyfull state,
With faire Resemblance, louers to allure,
This right hand holds Repentance all too late,
Warre, fire, bloud, and paines without recure.
On sweete Ambrosia, is not my foode,
Nectar is not my drinke, as to the rest
“Of all the Gods: I drinke the louers bloud,
“And feed vpon the heart within his breast.
Well hath my power in heauen and earth bin tride,
And deepest hell, my pearcing force hath knowen.
The marble seas, my wonders haue descride,
Which elder age throghout the world hath blowen.
To me, the king of Gods and men doth yeeld,

Io.

As witnes can the Greekish maide, whom I
Made like a cow go lowing through the field,
Leastiealous Iuno should the scape espie:
The doubled night, the Sunnes restrained course,
His secret stealths, the slander to eschew,

Like to Amphitrio to Alcmena.

In shape transformd, we list not to discourse.
All that and more we forced him to do.
The warlike Mars hath not subdude our might,
We feard him not, his furie nor disdaine,
That can the Gods record: before whose sight
He laie fast wrapt in Vulcans subtill chaine.
He that on earth yet hath not felt our power,
Let him behold the fall and cruell spoile
Of thee faire Troy, of Asia the flower,
So foule defast, and leueld with the soile.
Who forst Leander with his naked brest
So many nights to cut the frothie waues,
But Heroes loue, that lay inclosde in Sest?
The stoutest hearts to me shall yeeld them slaues.
Who could haue matcht the huge Alcides strength,

Hercules.

Great Macedon, what force might haue subdude?

Alexand.

Wise Scipio who ouercame at length,
But we, that are with greater force endude?
Who could haue conquered the golden fleece
But Iason, aided by Medeas art?
Who durst haue stolne faire Helen out of Greece
But I, with loue that boldned Paris heart?
What bond of nature, what restraint auailes
Against our power? I vouch to witnes truth.
The Myrhe tree that with shamefast teares bewailes

Myrrha

Her fathers loue, still weepeth yet for ruth.
But now, this world not seeing in these daies,
Such present proofes of our al-daring power,
Disdaines our name, and seeketh sundrie waies,
To scorne and scoffe, and shame vs euerie houre,
A brat, a bastard, and an idle boy,
A rod, a staffe, a whip to beate him out,
And to be sicke of loue, a childish toy,
These are mine honors now the world about,
My name disgrast, to raise againe therefore,
And in this age, mine ancient renowme
By mightie acts, intending to restore,
Downe to the earth, in wrath now am I come.
And in this place, such wonders shall ye heare,
As these your stubborne, and disdainfull hearts,
In melting teares, and humble yeelding feare,
Shall soone relent by sight of others smarts.
This princely pallace, will I enter in,
And there inflame, the faire Gismunda, so
In raging all her secret vaines within,
Through firie loue, that she shall feele much wo.
Too late repentance, thou shalt bend my bow.
Vaine hope, take out my pale dead heauie shaft,
Thou faire Resemblance, formost forth shalt go,
With Brittle ioy: my selfe will not be least,
But after me, comes death, and deadly paine.
Thus shall ye march, till we returne againe,
Meane while, sit still, and here I shall you shew
Such wonders, that at last with one accord,
Ye shall relent, and saie that now ye know,
Loue rules the world, Loue is a mightie Lord,

Exit.
Cupid with his traine entereth into King Tancreds Pallace.

Scæna. 2.

Gismunda in Purple commeth out of her Chamber, attended by foure maides that are the Chorus.
Gismund.
“O vaine, vnsteadfast state of mortall things,
“Who trusts this world, leans to a brittle stay,
“Such fickle fruit, his flattering bloome forth brings
“Ere it be ripe, it falleth to decay,
The ioy and blisse that late I did possesse,
In weale at will, with one I loued best,
Is turned now into so deepe distresse,
As teacheth me to know the worlds vnrest.
For neither wit nor princely stomackes serue
Against his force that slaies without respect,
The noble and the wretch: ne doth reserue,
So much as one, for worthines elect.
Ah me deare Lord, what well of teares may serue
To feed the streames of my foredulled eies,
To weepe thy death, as thy death doth deserue,
And waile thy want in full sufficing wise.
Ye lampes of heauen, and all ye heauenly powers,
Wherein did he procure your high disdaine,
He neuer sought with vast huge mounting towers
To reach aloft, and ouer-view your raigne,
Or what offence of mine was it vnwares,
That thus your furie should on me be throwen,
To plague a woman with such endles cares,
I feare that enuie hath the heauens this showen.
The Sunne his glorious vertues did disdaine,
Mars at his manhood mightily repind,
Yea all the Gods no longer could sustaine,
Each one to be excelled in his kind.
For he my Lord surpast them euerie one,
Such was his honor all the world throughout,
But now my loue, oh whither art thou gone?
I know thy ghost doth houer here about,
Expecting me (thy heart) to follow thee:
And I (deare loue) would faine dissolue this strife,
But staie a while, I may perhaps foresee
Some meanes to be disburdend of this life,
“And to discharge the dutie of a wife,
“Which is, not onely in this life to loue,
“But after death her fancie not remoue.
Meane while accept of these our daily rites,
Which with my maidens I shall do to thee,
Which is, in songs to cheere our dying spirits
With hymnes of praises of thy memorie.

Cantant. Qua mihi cantio, nondum occurrit.
The Song ended, Tancred the King commeth out of his pallace with his guard.

Scæna. 3.

Tancred.
Faire daughter, I haue sought thee out with griefe,
To ease the sorrowes of thy vexed heart
How long wilt thou torment thy father thus?
Who daily dies to see thy needles teares,
Such bootlesse plaints that know nor meane nor end
So but increase the flouds of thy lament,
And since the world knowes wel there was no want
In thee, of ought that did to him belong
Yet all thou seest could not his life prolong.
Why thē doest thou prouoke the heauens to wrath?
His doome of death was dated by his starres,
“And who is he that may withstand his fate?
By these complaintes small good to him thou doest,
Much griefe to me, most hurt vnto thy selfe,
And vnto Nature greatest wrong of all.

Gis.
Tell me not of the date of natures daies,
Then in the Aprill of her springing age:
No, no, it was my cruell destinie,
That spited at the pleasance of my life.

Tanc.
My daughter knowes the proofe of natures course
“For as the heauens do guide the lamp of life
“So can they search no further forth the flame,
“Then whilst with oyle they do maintain the same.

Gis.
Curst be the starres, and vanish may they curst,
Or fall from heauen, that in the dire aspect,
Abridgde the health and welfare of my loue.

Tanc.
Gismund my ioy, set all these griefes apart,
“The more thou art with hard mishap beset,
“The more thy patience should procure thine ease.

Gis.
What hope of hap may cheere my haples chance
What sighs, what teares may counteruail my cares?
What should I do, but still his death bewaile,
That was the solace of my life and soule?
Now, now I want the wonted guide and stay
Of my desires, and of my wreaklesse thoughts,
My Lord, my loue, my life, my liking gone,
In whome was all the fulnes of my ioy,
To whom I gaue the first fruites of my loue,
Who with the comfort of his onely sight,
All cares and sorrowes could from me remoue.
But father, now my ioyes forepast to tel,
Doe but reuiue the horrors of my hell.
As she that seemes in darkenes to behold
The gladsome pleasures of the chearefull light.

Tanc.
What then auailes thee fruitlesse thus to rue
His absence whom the heauens cannot returne:
Impartiall death thy husband did subdue,
Yet hath he spar'd thy kingly fathers life:
Who during life, to thee a double stay,
As father, and as husband will remaine,
With doubled loue to ease thy widowes want.
Of him whose want is cause of thy complaint,
Forbeare thou therefore al these needlesse teares,
That nippe the blossoms of thy beauties pride.

Gis.
Father, these teares loue chalengeth of due.

Tan.
But reason saith thou shouldst the same subdue.

Gis.
His funerals are yet before my sight.

Tan.
In endles mones Princes should not delight.

Gis.
The turtle pines in losse of her true mate.

Tan.
And so continues poore and desolate.

Gis.
Who can forget a iewell of such price?

Tanc.
She that hath learnd to master her desires.
“Let reason worke that time doth easilie frame
“In meanest wittes: to beare the greatest illes.

Gis.
So plenteous are the springs
Of sorrowes that increase my passions,
As neither reason can recure my smart,
Nor can your care, nor fatherly comfort
Appease the stormie combats of my thoughts,
Such is the sweet remembrance of his life.
Then geue me leaue, of pittie pittie me,
And as I can I shall allay these greefes.

Tan.
These solitarie walkes thou doest frequent,
Yeeld fresh occasions to thy secrete mones:
We wil therefore thou keep vs companie,
Leauing thy maidens with their harmonie.
Wend thou with vs, virgins withdraw your selues.

Tan. and Gis. with the Gard, depart into the pallace, the four maydens stay behind, as Chorus to the Tragædie.
Chor. 1.
The diuers haps which alwayes worke our care,
Our ioyes so farre, our woes so neere at hand,
Haue long ere this, and dayly doe declare
The fickle foot on which our state doeth stand.
“Who plants his pleasures here to gather roote,
“And hopes his happy life wil still endure,
“Let him behold how death with stealing foote
“Steps in, when he shall thinke his ioyes most sure.
“No ransome serueth to redeem our daies.
If prowes could preserue, or worthy deedes,
He had yet liu'd whose twelue labours displayes
His enddlesse fame, and yet his honor spreades.
And that great king that with so small a power

Alexander.

Bereft the mightie Persian his crowne:
Doeth witnesse well our life is but a flower,
Though it be deckt with honor and renowme.

Chor. 2.
“What growes to day in fauor of the heauen,
“Nurst with the sun, and with the showers sweete,
“Pluckt with the hand it withereth ere euen.
“So passe our daies euen as the riuers fleete.
The valiant Greekes that vnto Troya gaue
The tenne yeeres siege, left but their names behind.
And he that did so long and onelie saue

Hect.

His fathers walles, found there at last his end.
Proud Rome herselfe, that whilome laid her yoke
On the wide world, and vanquisht all with warre,
Yet could she not, remoue the fatall stroke
Of death, from them that stretcht her power so farre.

Chor. 3.
Looke what the cruell sisters once decreed
The thunderer himselfe cannot remoue:
They are the Ladies of our destinie,
To worke beneath, what is conspirde aboue,
But happie he that ends this mortall life,
By speedie death, who is not forst to see,
The many cares, nor feele the sundrie griefes
Which we sustaine, in wo and miserie.
Heere Fortune rules, who when she list to play,
Whirleth her wheele, and brings the high full low,
To morow takes, what she hath giuen to daie,
To shew she can aduance, and ouer throw.
Not Euripus vnquiet floud so oft
Ebs in a daie, and floweth too and fro,
As Fortunes change, pluckes downe that was aloft,
And mingleth ioy, with enterchange of wo.

Chor. 4.
“Who liues below, and feeleth not the strokes,
“Which often times on highest towers do fall,
“Nor blustering winds, wherwith the strongest okes
Are rent and torne, his life is surste of all:
For he may scorne Fortune, that hath no power
On him, that is well pleasd with his estate:
He seeketh not her sweets, nor feares her sower,
But liues contented in his quiet rate,
And marking how these worldly things do wade,
Reioyceth to himselfe, and laughs to see
The folly of men, that in their wits haue made,
Fortune a goddesse, placed in the skie.

Exegit Rod. Staf.