 | The Tragedy of Tancred and Gismund |  |
Actus. 3.
Scæna. 1.
Before this Act Megæra riseth out of hell, with the other Furies, Alecto and Tysyphone, dauncing an hellish round: which done she saith.Sisters be gone, bequeath the rest to me,
That yet belongs vnto this Tragædie.
The two Furies depart down.
Vengeance and death from foorth the deepest hell
I bring the cursed house where Gismund dwels.
Sent from the grislie god that holds his raigne
In Tartars vglie Realm, where Pelops sire
(Who with his own sonnes flesh whom he had slain
Did feast the Gods) with famin hath his hire.
To gape and catch at flying fruites in vaine,
And yeelding waters to his gasping throte,
Where stormie Æoles sonne with endlesse paine
Rowles vp the rock: where Titius hath his lot
To feede the Gripe that gnawes his growing heart.
Where proud Ixion wherled on the wheele,
The damned Ghosts in burning flame do feele,
From thence I mount: thither the winged God,
Nephew to Atlas, that vpholds the skie,
Of late downe from the earth, with golden rod,
To Stigian Firrie, Salerne soules did guide,
And made report, how Loue that lordly boy,
Highly disdaining his renownes decay,
Slipt downe from heauen, haue fild with fickle ioy,
Gismunds heart, and made her throw awaie
Chastnes of life, to her immortall shame,
Minding to shew by proofe of her foule end,
Some terror vnto those that scorne his name.
Blacke Pluto (that once found Cupid his friend
In winning Ceres daughter Queene of hels)
And Parthie moued by the grieued Ghost
Of her late husband, that in Tartar dwels,
Who praid due paines for her, that thus hath lost
All care of him, and of her chastitie,
The Senate then of hell by graue aduice
Of Minos, Æac, and of Radamant,
Commands me draw this hatefull aire, and rise
Aboue the earth, with dole and death to dant
The pride and present ioyes, wherewith these two
Feed their disdained hartes, which now to do
Behold I come, with instruments of death.
This stinging snake which is of hate and wrath,
Ile fixe vpon her fathers heart full fast,
And into hers, this other will I cast,
Whose rankling venome shall infect them so
With enuious wrath, and with recurelesse wo
Each shall be others plague and ouerthrow.
“Their gods: and hel sends foorth reuenging paine
‘On those whom shame from sin cannot restraine.
Megæra entreth into the pallace, and meeteth with Tancred comming out of Gismunds chamber with Renuchio and Iulia, vpon whom she throweth her Snake.
Scæna. 2.
Tan.Gods are ye guyds of iustice and reuenge?
O thou great Thunderer, doest thou beholde
With watchful eyes the subtile scapes of men
Hardned in shame, sear'd vp in the desire
Of their owne lustes: why then dost thou withhold
The blast of thy reuenge? why doest thou graunt
Such liuely breath, such lewd occasion
To execute their shamelesse villanie?
Thou, thou art cause of al this open wrong,
Thou that forbear'st thy vengeance all too long,
If thou spare them raine then vpon my head
The fulnesse of thy plagues with deadly ire,
To reaue this ruthfull soule, who all too sore
Burnes in the wrathfull torments of reuenge.
O earth the mother of each liuing wight,
Open thy wombe, deuour this withered corps,
And thou O hel, (if other hel there be
Then that I feele) receiue my soule to thee.
O daughter, daughter, wherefore do I grace
Her with so kind a name? O thou fond girle,
The shamefull ruine of thy fathers house,
Must glad my griefe-ful yeares that wast away?
For life which first thou didst receiue from me,
Ten thousand deaths shal I receiue by thee?
For al the ioyes I did repose in thee,
Which I (fond man) did settle in thy sight,
Is this my recompence? that I must see
The thing so shameful, and so villanous.
That would to God this earth had swalowed
This worthlesse burthen into lowest deepes,
Rather then I (accursed) had beheld
The sight that howerly massacars my life.
O whether, whether flyest thou foorth my soule?
O whether wandreth my tormented mind?
Those paines that make the miser glad of death
Haue ceaz'd on me, and yet I cannot haue
What villains may commaund, a speedie death.
Whom shal I first accuse for this outrage?
That God that guideth all, and guideth so
This damned deede. Shal I blaspheme their names?
The gods the authors of this spectacle:
Or shal I iustly curse that cruel starre
Whose influence assigned this destinie?
But nay, that traitor, shal that vile wretch liue
By whom I haue receau'd this iniurie?
Or shal I longer make account of her
That fondly prostitutes her widowes shame?
I haue bethought me what I shall request.
He kneeles.
On bended knees, with hands heau'd vp to heauen
This (sacred senate of the Gods) I craue,
First on the traytor your counsming ire:
Last, on my selfe, the wretched father, shame.
He riseth.
Oh could I stampe, and therewithall commaund
Armies of Furies to assist my heart,
To prosecute due vengeance on their soules.
Heare me my frends, but as ye loue your liues,
Replie not to me, hearken and stand amaz'd,
When I (as is my wont) oh fond delight,
Went foorth to seek my daughter, now my death,
Within her chamber (as I thought) she was,
But there I found her not, I demed then
For her disport she and her maidens were
Downe to the garden walkt to comfort them,
And thinking thus, it came into my mind
There all alone to tarry her returne:
And thereupon I (wearie) threw my selfe
Vpon her widdowes bed (for so I thought)
And in the curten wrapt my cursed head.
Thus as I lay anon I might beholde
Out of the vaut vp through her chamber floore
My daughter Gismund bringing hand in hande
The Countie Palurin, alas it is too true,
At her beds feete this traitor made me see
Her shame, his treason, and my deadly griefe.
Her Princelie body yeelded to this theefe.
The high despite wherof so wounded me
That traunce-like, as a senceles stone I lay,
For neither wit, nor tongue could vse the meane
T'expresse the passions of my pained heart.
Forcelesse, perforce, I sunke downe to this paine,
As greedie famin doth constraine the hauke,
So far'd it with me in that heauie stound,
But now what shal I doe? how may I seeke
To ease my minde that burneth with desire
Of dire reuenge? For neuer shal my thoughts
Graunt ease vnto my heart, til I haue found
A meane of vengeance to requite his paines,
That first conueyd this sight vnto my soule.
Tan.
Renuchio.
Renu.
What is your Highnes will?
Tan.
Call my daughter: my heart boyles till I see
Her in my sight, to whom I may discharge
All the vnrest that thus distempereth me.
Should I destroy them both? O gods ye know
How neere and deere our daughter is to vs.
And yet my rage perswades me to imbrue
My thirstie hands in both their trembling bloods,
Therewith to coole my wrathful furies heate.
But Nature, why repin'st thou at this thought?
Why should I thinke vpon a fathers debt
To her that thought not on a daughters due?
But stil me thinks if I should see her die,
And therewithall reflexe her dying eyes
Vpon mine eyes, that sight would slit my heart.
Not much vnlike the Cocatrice, that slaies
The obiect of his foule infections.
Oh what a conflict doth my mind endure?
Now fight my thoughts against my passions:
Now striue my passions against my thoughts.
Now sweates my heart, now chil cold falles it dead.
Helpe heauens, and succour ye Celestiall powers,
Infuse your secrete vertue on my soule.
Shall I (a king) be proued partiall?
“How shall our Subiects then insult on vs,
“When our examples (that are light to them)
“Shalbe eclipsed with our proper deedes?
And may the armes be rented from the tree?
The members from the body be disseuer'd?
And can the heart endure no violence?
My daughter is to me mine onlie heart,
My life, my comfort, my continuance,
Shall I be then not only so vnkinde
To passe all natures strength, and cut her off.
But therewithall so cruell to my selfe,
Against all law of kinde to shred in twaine
The golden threed that doth vs both maintaine.
But were it that my rage should so commaund,
And I consent to her vntimelie death,
Were this an end to all our miseries?
No, no, her ghost wil still pursue our life.
And from the deep her bloodles gastfull spirit
Wil as my shadow in the shining day,
Follow my footsteps till she take reuenge.
I will doe thus therefore: the traitor dies,
Because he scornd the fauor of his king,
And our displeasure wilfullie incurde:
His slaughter, with her sorow for his bloud,
Shall to our rage supplie delightfull foode.
Iulio.
Iul.
What ist your Maiestie commaunds?
Tan.
Iulio, if we haue not our hope in vaine,
Nor all the trust we doe repose in thee:
Now must we trie if thou approue the same.
For our commaund requires them both of thee.
Iul.
How by your Graces bounty I am bound,
Beyond the common bond wherein each man
Stands bound vnto his king, how I haue found
Honor and wealth by fauor in your sight,
I doe acknowledge with most thankfull minde.
My trueth (with other meanes to serue your Grace,
What euer you in honor shall assigne)
Hath sworne her power true vassall to your hest,
For proofe let but your Maiestie commaund
I shall vnlock the prison of my soule,
(Although vnkindlie horror would gaine-say)
Yet in obedience to your Highnes will,
By whom I hold the tenor of this life,
This hand and blade wil be the instruments,
To make pale death to grapple with my heart.
Tan.
Wel, to be short (for I am greeu'd too long
By wrath without reuenge) I thinke you know
Whilom a Pallace builded strong
For warre, within our Court, where dreadlesse peace
Hath planted now a weaker entrance.
But of that pallace yet one vaut remaines,
Within our Court, the secret way whereof
Is to our daughter Gismunds chamber laide:
There is also another mouth hereof,
Without our wall: which now is ouergrowen,
But you may finde it out, for yet it lies
Directly South a furlong from our place:
It may be knowen, hard by an auncient stoope,
Where grew an Oke in elder daies decaide,
There wil we that you watch, there shall you see
Bring him to vs, it is th'Earle Palurin,
What is his fault neither shal you enquire,
Nor list we to disclose, these cursed eyes
Haue seene the flame, this heart hath felt the fire
That cannot els be quencht but with his bloud.
This must be done: this will we haue you do.
Iul.
Both this, and els whateuer you thinke good.
Iulio departeth into the Pallace.
Scæna 3.
Renugio bringeth Gismund out of her chamber, to whom Tancred saith.Renugio depart, leaue vs alone.
Exit Renugio.
Gismund, if either I could cast aside
All care of thee: or if thou wouldst haue had
Some care of me, it would not now betide
That either thorow thy fault my ioy should fade,
Or by thy folly I should beare the paine
Thou hast procur'd: but now tis neither I
Can shun the griefe: whom thou hast more thē slain
Nor maist thou heale, or ease the grieuous wound,
Which thou hast geuen me. That vnstained life
Wherein I ioy'd, and thought it thy delight,
Why hast thou lost it? Can it be restor'd?
Where is thy widdowhood, there is thy shame.
Gismund, it is no mans, nor mens report,
That haue by likely proofes enformd me thus.
Thou knowest how hardly I could be induc'd
With flying tales of flattering Sicophants.
No, no, there was in vs such setled trust
Of thy chaste life, and vncorrupted minde:
That if these eyes had not beheld thy shame,
In vaine ten thousand censures could haue tolde,
That thou didst once vnprincelike make agree
With that vile traitor Countie Palurin.
Without regard had to thy selfe or me,
Vnshamefastly to staine thy state and mine.
But I vnhappiest haue beheld the same,
And seeing it, yet feele th'exceding griefe
That slaies my heart with horror of that thought.
Which griefe commandes me to obey my rage,
And Iustice vrgeth some extreame reuenge,
To wreake the wrongs that haue been offred vs.
But Nature that hath lockt within thy brest
Two liues: the same inclineth me to spare
Thy bloud, and so to keep mine owne vnspilt.
This is that ouerweening-loue I beare
To thee vnduetifull, and vndeserued.
But for that traitor, he shal surelie die,
For neither right nor nature doth intreat
For him, that wilfully without all awe
Of gods, or men, or of our deadly hate,
Incurde the iust displeasure of his king.
And to be briefe, I am content to know
What for thy selfe thou canst obiect to vs,
Why thou shouldst not together with him die,
So to asswage the griefes that ouerthrow
Thy fathers heart.
Gif.
O king, and father, humbly geue her leaue
Not that she recks this life: for I confesse
I haue deseru'd, when so it pleaseth you,
To die the death. Mine honor and my name
(As you suppose) distained with reproach,
And wel contented shall I meet the stroke
That must disseuer this detested head
Frō these lewd limmes. But this I wish were known
That now I liue not for my selfe alone.
For when I saw that neither my request,
Nor the intreatie of my carefull Aunt,
Could winne your Highnes pleasure to our will:
“Then Loue, heate of the heart, life of the soule,
“Fed by desire, increasing by restraint,
Would not endure controlment any more:
But violently enforst my feebled heart.
For who am I alas, still to resist
Such endlesse conflicts? To relent and yeelde
Therewith I chose him for my Lord and pheare.
Guiszard mine Earle that holds my loue full deare,
Then if it be so setled in your mind,
He shall not liue because he dar'd to loue
Your daughter. Thus I geue your Grace to know
Within his heart there is inclosde my life.
Therfore O father, if that name may be
Sweet to your eares, and that we may preuaile
By name of father, that you fauour vs.
But otherwise, if now we cannot finde
That which our falsed hope did promise vs.
Why then proceed, and rid our trembling hearts
Of these suspitions: since neither in this case
His good deserts in seruice to your Grace,
May mittigate the cruel rage of griefe.
That straines your heart, but that mine Earl must die
Then all in vaine you aske what I can say
Why I should liue, sufficeth for my part
To say I wil not liue, and so resolue.
Tan.
Dar'st thou so desperat decree thy death?
Gis.
A dreadles heart delites in such decrees.
Tan.
Thy kind abhorreth such vnkindly thoughts.
Gis.
Vnkindly thoughts they are to them that liue
In kindly loue.
Tan.
As I doe vnto thee.
Gis.
To take his life who is my loue to me.
Tan.
Haue I then lost thy loue?
Gis.
If he shal lose
His life, that is my loue.
Tan.
Thy loue. Be gone.
Returne vnto thy chamber.
Gis.
I wil goe.
Gismund departeth to her chamber.
Scæna. 4.
Iulio with his gard bringeth in the County Pal. prisonerIu.
If it please your highnes hither haue we broght
This captiue Earl as you commanded vs.
Whō (as we wer fortold) euen there we found
Where by your maiesty we were inioin'd
To watch for him. What more your highnes willes,
This heart and hand shal execute your hest.
Tan.
Iulio we thank your paines. Ah Palurin,
Haue we deserued in such traiterous sort
Thou shouldst abuse our kingly courtesies,
Which we too long in fauor haue bestowed
Vpon thy false-dissembling hart with vs.
What grief thou therewithal hast throwen on vs
Our soul endures, cannot be vttered.
And durst thou villen dare to vndermine
Our daughters chamber, durst thy shameles face
Be bolde to kisse her: th'rest we wil conceale.
Sufficeth that thou knowest I too wel know
All thy proceedings in thy priuat shames.
Herin what hast thou wonne? thine own content,
With the displeasure of thy Lord and king.
The thought whereof if thou hadst had in mind
The least remorce of loue and loyaltie
Might haue restraind thee from so foule fact.
But Palurin, what may I deem of thee,
Whom neither feare of gods, nor loue of him
(Whose Princely fauor hath been thine vpreare)
Could quench the fewel of thy lewd desires.
Wherfore content thee that we are resolu'd
(And therfore laid to snare thee with this bayt)
That thy iust death, with thine effused blood,
Shal coole the heate and choler of our mood.
Guiz.
My Lord the King, neither do I mislike
Your sentence, nor do your smoking sighes
Reacht from the entrals of your boiling heart,
Disturbe the quiet of my calmed thoughts:
For this I feele, and by experience proue,
Such is the force and endlesse might of loue,
As neuer shal the dread of carren death
That hath enuide our ioyes, inuade my brest,
For if it may be found a fault in me
(That euermore haue lou'd your Maiestie)
Likewise to honor and to loue your child,
If loue vnto you both may be a fault,
Then this hath been my fault, for which I ioy
That in the greatest lust of all my life,
I shall submitte for her sake to endure
The pangues of death. Oh mighty Lord of loue
Strengthen thy vassall, boldlie to receaue
Large wounds into this body for her sake.
Then vse my life or death, my Lord and king,
For your reliefe to ease your grieued soule:
For whether I liue, or els that I must die,
To end your paines I am content to beare:
Knowing by death I shall bewray the trueth
Of that sound hearth which liuing was her owne,
And dide aliue for her that liued mine,
Tan.
Thine Palurin, what, liues my daughter thine?
Traitor thou wrongst me, for she liueth mine.
Rather I wish ten thousand sundrie deaths,
Then I to liue and see my daughter thine.
Thine, that is dearer then my life to me?
Thine, whom I hope to see an Empresse?
Thine, whom I cannot pardon from my sight?
Thine, vnto whom we haue bequeath'd our crown?
Iulio, we wil that thou informe from vs
Renuchio the Capten of our Gard,
That we commaund this traitor be conueyd
Into the dungeon vnderneath our Tower,
There let him rest vntil he be resolu'd
What further we intend, which to vnderstand,
We will Renuchio repaire to vs.
Iul.
O that I might your Maiestie entreate
With clemencie to beautifie your seate,
Toward this Prince distrest by his desires,
Tan.
“This is the soundest safetie for a king
“To cut them off that vex or hinder him.
Iul.
“This haue I found the safetie of a king,
“To spare the Subiects that do honor him.
Tan.
Haue we been honourd by this leachers lust?
Iul.
No, but by this deuout submission.
Tan.
Our fortune saies we must do what we may.
Iul.
“This is praise-worth, not to do what you may.
Tan.
And may the Subiect countermaund the king?
Iul.
No, but intreat him.
Tan.
What he shal decree.
Iul.
What wisdom shall discern.
Iul.
Nay what our word
Shal best determine. We wil not replie.
Thou knowest our mind, our heart cannot be easd,
But with the slaughter of this Palurin.
The king hasteth into his Pallace.
Guis.
O thou great God, who from thy hiest throne
Hast stooped down, and felt the force of loue,
Bend gentle eares vnto the wofull mone,
Of me poore wretch, to graunt that I require:
Help to perswade the same great God, that he
So farre remit his might, and slack his fire
From my deare Ladies kindled heart, that she
May heare my death without her hurt,
Her face, wherein there is as cleere a light
As in the rising moone: let not her cheekes
As red as is the partic-coloured rose.
Be paled with the newes hereof and so
I yeeld my selfe, my sillie soul, and all,
To him, for her, for whom my death shall shew
I liu'd, and as I liu'd, I dide her thrall.
Graunt this thou Thunderer: this shal suffice,
Guizard is led to prison.
Chorus primus.
Who doth not know the fruits of Paris loue,
Nor vnderstand the end of Helens ioy,
He may behold the fatall ouerthrow
Of Priams house, and of the towne of Troy.
His death at last, and her eternal shame,
For whom so many a noble knight was slaine.
So many a Duke, so many a Prince of fame
Bereft his life, and left there in the plaine.
Medeas armed hand, Elizas sword,
Wretched Leander drenched in the floud.
Phillis so long that waited for her Lord
All these too dearly bought their loues with bloud.
Cho. 2.
But he in vertue that his Lady serues
Newils but what vnto her Honor longs,
He neuer from the rule of reason swarues,
He feeleth not the pangs, ne raging throngs
Of blind Cupid: he liues not in despaire
As done his seruants: neither spends his daies
In ioy, and care, vaine hope, and throbbing feare.
But seekes alway what may his soueraine please
In honor: he that thus serues, reapes the fruite
Of his sweet seruice: and no ielous dread
Nor base suspect of ought to let his sute
(Which causeth oft the louers hart to bleed)
Doth fret his mind, or burneth in his brest:
He wayleth not by day, nor wakes by night,
When euery other liuing thing doth rest.
Nor findes his life or death within her sight.
Cho. 3.
Remember thou in vertue serue therfore
As whilom Venus did the faire Adonne,
But as Diana lou'd the Amazons sonne.
Through whose request the gods to him alone
Restorde new life: the twine that was vndone
Was by the sisters twisted vp againe.
The loue of vertue in thy Ladies lookes,
The loue of vertue in her learned talke,
This loue yeelds matter for eternall bookes.
This loue intiseth him abroad to walke,
There to inuent and write new rondelaies
Of learned conceit, her fancies to allure
To vaine delights, such humors he allaies,
And sings of vertue and her garments pure.
Cho. 4.
Desire not of thy Soueraigne the thing
Whereof shame may ensue by any meane:
Nor wish thou ought that may dishonor bring.
So whilom did the learned Tuscan serue
His faire Lady: and glory was their end.
Such are the praises Louers done deserue,
Whose seruice doth to vertue and honor tend.
Composuit Ch. Hat.
Finis Actus 4.
| The Tragedy of Tancred and Gismund | |