 | The Tragedy of Tancred and Gismund |  |
Actus 5.
Scæna 1.
Renu.Oh cruel fate, oh miserable chaunce
Oh dire aspect of hateful destinies,
Oh wo may not be told: suffic'd it not
That I should see and with these eyes behold
So foule, so bloody, and so base a deede:
Of my perplexed mind, must onelie I
Must I alone be made the messenger,
That must deliuer to her Princelie eares
Such dismall newes? as when I shal disclose
I know it cannot but abridge her daies.
As when the thunderer and three forked fire
Rent through the cloudes by Ioues almighty power
Breakes vp the bosom of our mother earth,
And burnes her heart before the heat be felt.
In this distresse whom should I most bewaile,
My woe, that must be made the messenger
Of these vnworthie and vnwelcome newes?
Or shall I mone thy death, O noble Earle?
Or shal I still lament the heauie hap
That yet, O Queene, attends thy funeral.
Cho. 1.
What mones be these? Renuchio is this Salerne I see?
Doth here king Tancred hold the awful crown?
Is this the place where ciuill people be?
Or do the sauage Scythians here abound
Cho. 2.
What mean these questiōs whether tend thes words?
Resolue vs maidens, & release our fears.
What euer newes thou bring'st, discouer them,
Deteine vs not in this suspicious dread,
“The thought whereof is greater then the woe.
Renu.
O whither may I cast my lookes? to heauen?
Blackpitchy clouds from thence rain down reuenge
The earth shal I behold? stainde with the gore
Of his heart bloud that dide most innocent.
Which way so ere I turn mine eyes, me thinks
His butchered corps stands staring in my face.
Cho. 3.
We humbly pray thee to forbear these words
“The dread of things vnknown breedes the suspect
“Of greater dread, vntil the worst be knowen.
Tel therfore what hath chaunst, and whereunto
This bloudy cup thou holdest in thy hand.
Renu.
Since so is your request that I shal doe,
Although my mind so sorrowful a thing
Repines to tell, and though my voice eschewes
To say what I haue seene: yet since your will
So fixed stands to heare for what I rue,
Your great desires I shall herein fulfill.
First by Salerne Citie, amids the plaine,
There stands a hil, whose bottom huge and round,
Throwen out in breadth, a large space doth contain
And gathering vp in height small from the grounde
Stil lesse and lesse it mounts; there sometime was
A goodly towre vpreard, that flowrde in fame
While fate and fortune seru'd, but time doth passe,
And with his sway suppresseth all the same:
For now the walles be euened with the plaine.
And all the rest so fowly lies defast:
As but the only shade doth there remaine
Of that which there was built in time forepast:
And yet that shewes what worthy work to fore
Hath there been reard: one parcel of that towre
Yet stands, which eating time could not deuoure:
A strong turret compact of stone and rock:
Hugie without, but horrible within:
To passe to which by force of handy stroke
A crooked straite is made, that enters in
And leades into this vgly loathsome place.
Within the which carued into the ground
Dreadful and darke, where neuer light is found:
Into this hollow caue, by cruel hest
Of king Tancred, were diuers seruants sent
To worke the horror of his furious brest,
Earst nourisht in his rage, and now sterne bent,
To haue the same performde: I woful man
Amongst the rest, was one to do the thing
That to our charge so straitly did belong,
In sort as was commanded by the king.
Within which dreadful prison when we came,
The noble Countie Palurin that there
Lay chain'd in giues, fast fettered in his bolts,
Out of the darke dungeon we did vpreare
And hal'd him thence into a brighter place,
That gaue vs light to worke our tyrannie.
But when I once beheld his manly face,
And saw his cheare, no more appauld with feare,
Of present death, then he whom neuer dread
Did once a mate: my heart abhorred then
To geue consent vnto so foul a deede,
That wretched death should reaue so worthy a man
On false fortune I cride with lowd complaint,
That in such sort ouerwhelmes nobilitie.
But he whom neuer griefe ne feare could taint,
With smiling cheare himselfe oft willeth me,
To leaue to plaine his case, or sorrow make,
For him, for he was far more glad a paide
Death to imbrace thus for his Ladies sake,
Then life, or all the ioyes of life he said.
For losse of life (quoth he) greeues me no more,
Then losse of that which I esteemed least,
Is all the cause of griefe within my brest.
He praid therfore that we would make report
To her of those his last words he would say:
That though he neuer could in any sort
Her gentlenes requite, nor neuer lay
Within his power to serue her as he would,
Yet she possest his heart with hand and might,
To doe her all the honor that he could.
This was to him of all the ioyes that might
Reuiue his heart, the chiefest ioy of al,
That, to declare the faithfull heart which he
Did beare to her, fortune so wel did fall,
That in her loue he should both liue and die.
After these words he staid, and spake no more,
But ioyfully beholding vs eachone,
His words and cheare amazed vs so sore
That stil we stoode: when forthwith thereupon
But why slack you (quoth he) to do the thing
For which you come? make speed and stay no more
Performe your masters will: now tel the king
He hath his life for which he long'd so sore:
And with those words himselfe with his own hand
Fastned the bands about his neck. The rest
Wondring at his stout heart, astonied stand
To see him offer thus himselfe to death.
What stony brest, or what hard heart of flint
Would not relent to see this dreery sight?
So goodly a man, whom death nor fortunes dint
Could once disarme, murdred with such despite.
And in such sort bereft amidst the flowers
Of his fresh yeares, that ruthfull was to seene:
“Yong men, or virgins, while their yeares be green.
Lo now our seruants seeing him take the bands
And on his neck himselfe to make them fast:
Without delay set to their cruel hands,
And sought to worke their fierce intent with hast,
They stretch the bloudy bands, and when the breth
Began to faile his brest, they slackt againe.
Thrise did they pull, and thrise they losed him,
So did their hands repine against their hearts:
And oft times losed to his greater paine.
“But date of death that fixed is so fast,
“Beyond his course there may no wight extend,
For strangled is this noble Earle at last,
Bereft of life, vnworthy such an end.
Chor.
O dāned deed.
Ren.
What deem you this to be
Al the sayd newes that I haue to vnfould?
Is here (think you) end of the crueltie
That I haue seen?
Chor.
Could any heauier woe
Be wrought to him, then to destroy him so?
Ren.
What, think you this outrage did end so well?
The horror of the fact, the greatest griefe,
The massaker, the terror is to tell.
Cho.
Alack what could be more? they threw percase
The dead body to be deuourd and torne
Of the wild beasts.
Renu.
Would God it had been cast a sauage praie
To beasts and birds: but lo, that dreadfull thing
Which euen the tyger would not work, but to
Suffice his hunger: that hath the tyrant king
Withouten ruth commaunded vs to doe,
Onely to please his wrathfull heart withal.
If birdes, or beasts had eaten vp his corps,
Yea heart and all: within this cup I bring,
And am constrained now vnto the face
Of his deare Ladie to present the same.
Chor.
What kind of crueltie is this you name?
Declare foorthwith, and wherunto doth tend
This farther plaint.
Ren.
After his breath was gone,
Forced perforce thus from his panting brest
Straight they dispoiled him, and not alone
Contented with his death, on the dead corps
Which rauenous beasts forbeare to lacerate,
Euen vpon this our villens fresh begunne
To shew new crueltie: foorthwith they pearce
His naked bellie, and vnript it so,
That out the bowels gusht: who can rehearse
Their tyrannie, wherwith my heart yet bleedes.
The warme entralles were torne out of his brest.
Within their hands trembling not fully dead,
His veines smok'd, his bowels all to recked
Ruthlesse were rent, and throwen about the place:
All clottered lay the bloud in lumps of gore,
Sprent on his corps, and on his paled face,
His trembling heart, yet leaping, out they tore,
And cruelly vpon a rapier
They fixt the same, and in this hateful wise
Vnto the king this heart they do present:
A sight longd for to feede his irefull eies.
The king perceiuing each thing to be wrought
As he had wilde, reioysing to behold
Vpon the bloudie sword the pearced heart,
He calles then for this massie cup of gold,
And reaching me the same, now go, quoth he,
Vnto my daughter, and with speedy hast
Present her this, and say to her from me,
Thy father hath here in this cup thee sent
That thing to ioy and comfort thee withal,
Which thou louedst best, euen as thou wert content
To comfort him with his chiefe ioy of all.
Cho.
O hateful fact! O passing crueltie!
O murder wrought with too much hard despit!e
O hainous deede, which no posteritie
Wil once beleeue!
Ren.
Thus was Earle Palurin
Strangled vnto the death, yea after death
His heart and bloud disboweled from his brest:
But what auaileth plaint? it is but breath
Forewasted all in vaine: why do I rest
Here in this place? why goe I not and doe
The hatefull message to my charge committed?
Oh were it not that I am forc'd thereto,
By a kings will, here would I stay my feet,
Ne one whit farder wade in this intent:
But I must yeeld me to my Princes hest,
Yet doth this somewhat comfort mine vnrest,
I am resolu'd her griefe not to behold,
But get me gone my message being told.
Where is the Princesse chamber?
Cho.
Lo where she comes
Scæna 2.
Gismund commeth out of her chamber, to whom Renuchio deliuereth his cup, saying.Thy father, O Queen, here in this cup hath sent
The thing to ioy and comfort thee withall
Which thou louedst best, euen as thou wast content
Gis.
I thanke my father, and thee gentle squire,
For this thy trauell take thou for thy paines
This bracelet, and commend me to the king.
Renuchio departeth.
So now is come the long expected houre,
The fatall hower I haue so looked for,
Now hath my father satisfied his thirst
With giltlesse bloud which he so coueted
What brings this cup? (ay me) I thought no lesse,
It is mine Earles, my Counties pearced heart,
Deare heart, too dearely hast thou bought my loue
Extreamely rated at too high a price.
Ah my sweet heart, sweet wast thou in thy life,
But in thy death thou prouest passing sweet.
A fitter hearce then this of beaten gold,
Could not be lotted to so good an heart:
My father therefore well prouided thus
To close and wrap thee vp in massie gold,
And therewithall to send thee vnto me,
To whom of duety thou doest best belong.
My father hath in all his life bewraid
A princely care and tender loue to me:
But this surpasseth, in his later dayes
To send me this, mine owne deare heart to me.
Wert thou not mine, dear hart, whil'st that my loue
Daunced and plaid vpon thy golden strings?
Art thou not mine (deere heart) now that my loue
Is fled to heauen, and got him golden wings?
Thou art mine owne, and stil mine own shalt be
Therfore my father sendeth thee to me.
Ah pleasant harborough of my hearts thought!
Seuen times accursed be the hand that wrought
Thee this despight, to mangle thee so foule:
Yet in this wound I see mine owne true loue,
And in this wound thy magnanimitie,
And in this wound I see thy constancie.
Goe gentle heart, go rest thee in thy tombe,
Receaue this token at thy last farewell:
She kisseth it.
Thine owne true heart anon will follow thee,
Which panting hasteth for thy companie.
Thus hast thou run (poore heart) thy mortall race,
And rid thy life from fickle fortunes snares,
Thus hast thou lost this world, and worldly cares,
And of thy foe, to honour thee withall,
Receau'd a golden graue, to thy desert,
Nothing doth want to thy iust funerall,
But my salt teares to wash thy bloudy wound.
Which to the end thou mightst receaue, behold
My father sends thee in this cup of gold,
And thou shalt haue them, though I was resolu'd
To shed no teares, but with a chearefull face
Once did I think to wet thy funerall
Only with bloud, and with no weeping eye.
This done, foorthwith my soule shal fly to thee,
For therfore did my father send thee me.
Ah my pure heart, with sweeter companie,
Or more content, how safer may I proue
To passe to places all vnknowen with thee.
Why die I not therfore? why doe I stay?
Why doe I not this wofull life forgoe,
And with these hands enforce this breath away?
How ill beseeme these billaments of gold
Thy mournfull widdowhood? away with them,
So let thy tresses flaring in the winde
She vndresseth her haire.
Vntrimmed hang about thy bared necke:
Now hellish furies set my heart on fire,
Bolden my courage, strengthen ye my hands
Against their kind, to do a kindly deed:
But shall I then vnwreaken downe descend?
Shall I not worke some iust reuenge on him
That thus hath slain my loue? shall not these hands
Fire his gates, and make the flame to climbe
Vp to the pinnacles, with burning brands,
And on his cynders wreake my cruell teene.
Be still (fond girle) content thee first to die,
This venomd water shall abridge thy life,
she taketh a violl of poyson out of her pocket.
This for the same intent prouided I,
Which can both ease and end this raging strife.
Thy father by thy death shall haue more woe,
Then fire or flames within his gates can bring:
Content thee then in patience hence to go,
Thy death his bloud shall wreake vpon the king.
Now not alone (a griefe to die alone)
“The onely myrror of extreame anoy,
But not alone, thou diest my loue, for I
Will be copartner of thy destinie.
Be merrie then my soule, canst thou refuse
To die with him, that death for thee did choose?
Chor. 1.
What damned furie hath possest our Queen
Why sit we still beholding her distresse?
Madame forbeare, suppresse this headstrong rage.
Gis.
Maidens forbeare your comfortable wordes.
O worthy Queene, rashnes doth ouerthrowe
The author of his resolution.
Gis.
Where hope of help is lost what booteth feare?
Cho. 3.
Feare wil auoyd the sting of infamie.
Gis.
May good or bad reports delight the dead?
Cho. 4.
If of the liuing yet the dead haue care.
Gis.
An easie griefe by councel may be cur'd.
Cho. 1.
But hedstrong mischiefs princes should auoid
Gis.
In headlong griefes and cases desperate?
Cho 2.
Cal to your mind (Gis.)
you are the Queene.
Gis,
Vnhappy widow, wife, and paramour.
Cho. 3.
Think on the king.
Gis.
The king? the tyrant king
Cho. 3.
Your father.
Gis.
Yea, the murthrer of my loue
Ch. 4.
His force.
Gis.
the dead fear not the force of mē
Ch. 1.
His care & griefe.
Gis.
That neither car'd for me
Nor greeued at the murther of my loue,
My mind is setled, you with these vain words,
Withhold me but too long from my desire.
Depart ye to chamber.
Cho.
We wil hast
To tel the king hereof.
Chorus depart into the Pallace.
Gis.
I will preuent
Both you and him. Lo here, this harty draught
The last that in this world I meane to tast,
Dreadlesse of death (mine Earle) I drink to thee.
So now worke on, now doth my soul begin
To hate this light, wherein there is no loue,
No loue of parents to their children,
No loue of Princes to their Subiects true,
No loue of Ladies to their dearest loues.
Now passe I to the pleasant land of loue,
Where heauenly loue immortall flourisheth:
The Gods abhorre the company of men,
Hel is on earth, yea hel it selfe is heauen
Heauen, said I? no, but hel record I call,
And thou sterne Goddesse of reuenging wrongs
Witnesse with me I die for his pure loue
That liued mine.
Shee lieth down and couereth her face with her haire.
Scæna 3,
Tancred in hast commeth out of his pallace with Iulio.Tan.
VVhere is my daughter?
Iulio.
Behold, here, wofull king.
Tan.
Aime, break hart, & thou fly foorth my soul
What, doth my daughter Gis. take it so?
What hast thou done? oh let me see thine eyes,
Oh let me dresse vp those vntrimmed locks,
Looke vp, sweet child, look vp mine only ioy,
Tis I thy father that beseecheth thee:
Reare vp thy body, straine thy dying voice
To speake to him, sweet Gismund speake to me.
Gis.
Who staies my soul? who thus disquiets me?
Tan.
Tis I thy father, ah behold my teares
Like pearled deaw that trickle down my cheekes,
To wash my siluer haires.
Gis.
Oh father king
Forbeare your teares, your plaint wil not auaile.
Tan.
Oh my sweetheart, hast thou receau'd thy life
From me, and wilt thou to requite the same,
Yeeld me my death? yea death and greater greefe
To see thee die for him that did defame
Thine honor thus, my kingdome, and thy name.
Gis.
Yea therfore father gaue ye life to me,
That I should die, and now my date is done.
As for your kingdome, and mine own renowne,
Which you affirme dishonoured to be
That fault impute it where it is, for he
His hands haue brought this shame and griefe on vs
But father, yet if anie sparke remaine
Of your deare loue, if euer yet I could
So much deserue, or at your hands desire,
Grant that I may obtaine this last request,
Tanc.
Saie louely child, saie on, what ere it be,
Thy father grants it willingly to thee.
Gis.
My life I craue not, for it is not now
In you to giue, nor in my selfe to saue,
Nor craue I mercie for mine Earle and me,
Who hath bin slaine with too much crueltie.
With patience I must awhile abide
Within this life, which now will not be long.
But this is my request, Father I praie,
That since it pleased so your maiestie,
I should inioy my loue aliue no more,
Yet neretheles let vs not parted be,
Whom cruell death could neuer separate:
But as we liude and dide together here,
So let our bodies be together tombde,
Let him with me, and I with him be laid
Within one shrine, where euer you appoint,
This if you grant me, as I trust you will,
Although I liue not to requite this grace,
Th'immortall Gods due recompence shall giue
To you for this, and so vaine world farewel,
My speech is painefull, and mine eie-sight failes.
Tanc.
My daughter dies, see how the bitter pangs
Of tyrannous death, torments her princely heart,
She lookes on me, at me she shakes her head,
For me she grones, by me my daughter dies,
I, I, the author of this Tragedie.
Now dies my daughter, hence with princely roabes
Oh faire in life, thrice fairer in thy death,
Deare to thy father in thy life thou wert,
But in thy death, dearest vnto his heart,
I kisse thy paled cheekes, and close thine eies,
This duetie once I promist to my selfe,
Thou shouldst performe to me, but ah false hope
Now ruthful wretched king what resteth thee?
Wilt thou now liue wasted with miserie?
Wilt thou now liue with these eies didst see
Thy daughter dead? wilt thou now liue to see
Her funerals, that of thy life was stay?
Wilt thou now liue that wast her liues decay?
Shal not this hand reach to this heart the stroke
Mine armes are not so weake, nor are my limmes
So feebled with mine age, nor is my heart
So daunted with the dread of cowardice,
But I can wreake due vengeance on that head
That wrought the means these louers now be dead
Iulio come neare, and lay thine own right hand
Vpon my thigh, now take thine oath of me.
Iul.
I sweare to thee, my liege Lord, to discharge
What euer thou enioynest Iulio.
Tan.
First then I charge thee that my daughter haue
Her last request, thou shalt within one tombe
Interre her Earle and her: and thereupon
Engraue some Royall Epitaph of loue.
That done, I swear thee thou shalt take my corps
Which thou shalt find by that time done to death,
And lay my bodie by my daughters side.
Sweare this, sweare this I say.
Iul.
I sweare.
Tan.
A kingly deed the king resolues to doe.
Iul.
To kil himselfe.
Tan.
To send his soule to ease.
Iul.
Doth Ioue command it?
Tan.
Our stars cōpell it.
Iul.
The wiseman ouerrules his stars.
Tan.
So we
Iul.
Vndaunted should the minds of kings indure.
Tan.
So shal it in this resolution.
Iulio forbeare, and as thou louest the king,
When thou shalt see him weltring in his gore,
Stretching his limmes, and gasping in his grones
Then Iulio set to thy helping hand,
Redouble stroke on stroke, and driue the stab
Down deeper to his heart, to rid his soule.
Now stand aside, stir not a foote, least thou
Make vp the fourth to fill this Tragedie.
These eyes that first beheld my daughters shame,
These eyes that longed for the ruthful sight
Of her Earles heart, these eyes that now haue seene
His death, her woe, and her auenging teene:
Vpon these eyes we must be first auenged.
Vnworthy lamps of this accursed lump,
Out of your dwellings: so, it fits vs thus
In bloud and blindnes to goe seeke the path
That leadeth down to euerlasting night.
Why frighst thou dastard? be thou desperate,
One mischiefe brings another on his neck,
As mighty billowes tumble in the seas.
Now daughter, seest thou not how I amerce
My wrath that thus bereft thee of thy loue,
Vpon my head? now fathers learn by me,
Be wise, be warnde to vse more tenderly
The iewels of your ioyes. Daughter, I come.
| The Tragedy of Tancred and Gismund | |