 | The Tragedy of Tancred and Gismund |  |
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.
| The Tragedy of Tancred and Gismund | |