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 | The Tragedy of Hoffman or A Reuenge for a Father |  |
Hoffman.
Hence Clouds of melancholy
Ile be no longer subiect to your sismes,
But thou deare soule, whose nerues and artires
In dead resoundings summon vp reuenge,
And thou shalt hate, be but appeas'd sweete hearse
The dead remembrance of my liuing father
strikes ope a curtaine where appeares a body.
And with a hart as aire, swift as thought
I'le excuse iustly in such a cause
Where truth leadeth, what coward would not fight
Ill acts moue some, but myne's a cause is right
thunder and lightning.
See the powers of heauen in apparitions
And fight full aspects as insenced
That I thus tardy am to doe an act
which iustice and a fathers death exites,
Like threatening meteors antedates destruction.
thunder
Againe I come I come, I come,
Bee silent thou effigies of faire virtue
That like a goodly syon wear't pluckt vp
By murderous, winds, infectious blasts and gusts
I'ue made thy enemies, then hand in hand
Wee'le walke to paradise—againe more blest
Ile to yon promonts top, and their suruey,
What shipwrackt passengers the belgique sea
Casts from her fomy entrailes by mischance.
Roare sea and winds, and with celestiall fires,
Quicken high proiects, with your highest desires.
Enter Lorrique.
Lo.
Yet this is somewhat like, but brambles, you are to busie,
were I at Luningberge, and you catcht me thus, I should
goe neere to aske you at whose suit, but now I am out of sent,
And feare no seriants, for I thinke these woods and waters are
common wealthes that need no such subiects nay they keepe
not a Constable at sea, but a mans ouerwhelmd without
order.—Well, dry land I loue thee, though thou swarme
with millions of deuourers, yet hast thou no such swallow as
the sea.
Hoff.
Thou lyest, there liues vpon the earth more beasts
With wide deuouring throates, then can bee found
Of rauenous fishes in the Ocean:
The huge Leuiathan is but a shrimpe
Compar'd with our Balena on the land
Lo.
I am of your mind; but the Whale has a wide mouth
To swallow fleeting waters, and poore fish,
But we haue Epicures and Cormorants,
Whom neyther sea, nor land can hardly serue
They feed them fat, while armes and honour starue,
Desart lookes pale as death, like those bare bones.
Lo.
Ha—amazd.
Hoff.
Seest thou them trembling, slaue heere were Armes?
That seru'd the troath lesse state of Luningberge.
Lo.
So doe I sir serue the dukes sonne of the state,
Hoff.
Ha, ha, I laugh to see how dastard feare
Hastens the death doomd wretch to his distresse,
Lo.
His sonne Otho sir, I'me a poore follower of his
And my master is ayring of himselfe at your Cell,
Hoff.
Is he that scapt the wracke young Luningberg?
Lo.
I sir, the same sir, you are in the right sir.
Hoff.
Reuenge I kisse thee, vengeance y'are at liberty,
Wouldst thou hauing lost a father as I haue,
Whose very name dissolues my eyes to teares
Could duty and thy loue so different proue,
Not to auenge his death whose better part
Was thine, thou his, when he fell part of thee
Fell with him each drop, being part thine owne
And wouldst not be reveng'd;
Lor.
Yes on the murtherer,
Hoff.
On him, or anie man that is assied
Has but one ounce of blood, of which hees part
He was my father, my hart still bleeds
Nor can my wounds be stopt, till an incision,
I'ue made to bury my dead father in:
Therefore without protraction, sighing, or excuses
Sweare to be true, to ayd assist me, not to stirre
Or contradict me in any enterprise
I shall now vndertake, or heareafter.
Lor.
I sweare.
Hoff.
Were I perswaded that thou couldst shed teares,
As doth the Egyptian serpents neere the Nile;
If thou wouldst kisse and kill, imbrace and stabbe,
Then thou shouldst liue, for my inuictiue braine
Hath cast a glorious proiect of reuenge
Euen as thou kneel'st, wilt thou turne villaine speake.
Lor.
Oh sir when was I otherwise, from my creation nothing
else, I was made of no other stuffe, villany is my onely patrimony:
though I bee an irreligious slaue, yet I beare a religious
name, though I want courage, yet in talke, I'le put them all
downe, though I haue nothing in me that is good:
Yet i'le—
Forbeare thy Lord is comming ile go in
And royally prouide for such a Prince,
Say thou hast met the kindest host aliue,
One that adores him, with no lesse zeale
Then rich men gold, or true religious heauen
Dissemble cunningly, and thou shalt prooue
the minion of my thoughts, friend to my loue.
Exit.
Lor.
Well sir ne're feare me this is an excellent fellow
A true villaine fitter for me then better company,
This is Hannce Hoffmans sonne.
that stole downe his fathers Anotamy from the gallowes at
Leningberge, I 'tis the same vpon the dead scull ther's the iron
Crowne that burnt his braines out, what will come of this, I
neyther know nor care: but here comes my lord.
How chers my most noble, my most honorable, my most
gracious; yea my most grieued prince.
Otho
A fearefull storme
Lor.
And full of horror.
Otho
Trust me Lorrique besides the inlie griefe
That swallowes my content when I perceiue
How greedily the feirce vnpitying sea, and waues,
Deuour'd our friends another trouble greeues my vexed eyes
With gashtly apperitions, strange aspects
Which eyther I doe certainely behold
Or else my soule deuming some sad fate
Fills my maginary powers with shapes
Hidious and horrid.
Lor.
My lord let your hart haue no commerce with that
Mart of idle imaginations, rouse vp your noblenesse
To apprehend comfort, kindnesse ease and what otherwise
Entertain'd so sollitary a place as this, can the
Antient subiect of the state of Leningberg collect
Tis I take it the sonne to that Viz-admirall that
Turn'd a terrible pirate.
Otho
Let vs turne backe into the sea againe
That hath diuided vs and our late friends
Rather then see choyce Hoffman.
Lor.
Corrage braue Otho, hee'l vse thee kindly.
Enter Hoffman.
Heere he comes, sweete host heere is the dukes heire of
Leningberge doe homage and after entertaine him and me his
Follower with the most conspictious pleasures
That lies in thy poore hability.
Hoff.
Before I speake to my most sacred Lord
I ioyne my soft lipps to the sollid earth
And with an honord bennison I blesse
The hower, the place, the time of your arriue
For now my sauadge life, lead amongst beasts
Shalbe turn'd ciuell by your gratious helpe
Otho
I see thy true hearts loue drope downe in teares
And this imbrace shewes I am free from feares
My disturb'd blood runnes smoothly through my veines
And I am bold to call thee friend, bold to intreate
Food for by wrack I haue lost ship, friends and meat.
Hoff.
You that attend my Lord enter the caue
Bring forth the homely Cakes theis hands prepar'd
While I intreat his excellence sit downe
Villaine bring nothing but a burning Crowne.
Exit.
Otho
What's that thou bidst him bring, a burning Crowne
Hoff.
Still you suspect my harmelesse inocence
What though your father with the power state
And your iust vncle duke of Brusia
After my father had in thirty fights
Fill'd all their treasures with fomens spoyles
And payd poore souldiors from his treasury
What though for this his merrits he was nam'd
A prescript out law for a little debt
Compeld to flie into the Belgique sound
And liue a pirate.
Otho
Prithee speake no more
By repetition of thy fathers wrongs
Hoff.
Then hee was wrong'd you graunt but not by you,
You vertuous gentleman
Sate like a iust Iudge of the vnder-shades,
And with an vnchang'd Rhadamantine looke,
Beheld the fresh mangled with many scars
Par'd from the bones of my offended father
And when hee was a bare anatomy,
You saw him chain'd vnto the common gallowes.
Otho
Hoffman.
Hoff.
Nay heare me patiently kind Lord
My innocent youth as guilty of his sinne,
Was in a dungeon hidden from the sunne,
And there I was condemn'd to endlesse night
Except I past my vow neuer to steale
My fathers fleshles bones from that base tree
I know not who it was, I guesse your mother,
She kneeld and wept for me, (but you did not)
Beseeching from that vow I might be freed
Then did I sweare if Nations forraigne power
Compel'd me to take downe those naked bones
I neuer would release them from those chaines
Neuer intombe them, but immediately
Remoue them from that gallowes to a tree
I kept mine oath: looke Luningberg; tis done
Behold a father hang'd vp by his sonne
Otho
Oh horrible aspect murtherer stand off
I know thou meanst mee wronge
Hoff.
My Lord behold these pretious twines of light
Burnt out by day eclipst when as the sunne
For shame obscur'd himselfe this deed was done
Where none but schrich owles sung, thou receptacle
thou ------ organ of the soule;
Rest, goe rest, and you most louely Couplets
Leggs and armes reside, for euer heere
Otho
Oh Lorrique I am betrayd, slaue touch me not
Hoff.
Not touch thee? yes, and thus trip downe thy pride.
You pla'ct my father in a Chaire of state:
This earth shall bee your throne, villaine come forth
Enter Lorrique.
And as thou mean'st to saue thy forfeit life,
Pixe on thy Masters head my burning Crowne,
While in these Cords, I in eternall bands
Binde fast his base and coward trembling hands.
Otho
Lorrique, art thou turn'd villaine to my life.
Lor.
He turne any thing sir rather then nothing, I was taken
life promist to betray you, and I loue life so well, that I would
not loose it for a Kingdome, for a Kings Crowne, an Empire.
Hoff.
On with the Crowne.
Otho
Oh tortor aboue measure.
Hoff.
My father felt this paine when thou hadst pleasure.
Otho
Thy father dyed for piracy.
Ho.
Oh peace, had he bin iudge himselfe, he would haue shew'd
He had bin clearer then the Christall morne!
But wretches sentenc'd neuer finde defence,
How euer guiltlesse bee their innocence,
No more did hee, no more shalt thou, no ruth
Pittied his winter age, none helps thy youth.
Otho
Oh Lorrique tortor, I feele an Ætna burne
Within my braines, and all my body else
Is like a hill of Ice, all these Belgique seas
That now, surround vs cannot quench this flame
Death like a tyrant seazeth me vnawares,
My sinewes shrinke like leaues parcht with the sunne
My blood dissolues, nerues and tendons fayle
Each part's disioynted, and my breath expires
Mount soule to heauen, my body burnes in fire.
Lor.
Hee's gon.
Hoff.
Goe let him come Lorrique
This but the prologue to the'nsuing play,
Father I offer thee thy murtherers sonne.
Exeunt,
Florish. Enter Ferdinand, Rodorick, Lodowick, Mathias, Lucibet, Ierom, Stilt, attendants.
Ferd.
Princes of Saxony and Austria,
Though your owne words are of sufficient weight
To iustifie the honorable loue borne by Lodowick to bright Lucybell,
Yet since your parents liue and as I heare
There is betweene them some dissention,
Blame vs not for detaining you thus long
Till we had notice how the businesse stood
Lodo.
Your royall entertaine great Ferdinand,
Exceeding expectation in our stay,
Bind vs to thanks, and if my brother please
To hold his challenge for a Turnament
In praise of Lucibellas excellence,
No doubt our father and the Austrian duke
Will be in person at so royall sport.
Ferd.
We trust they will.
Rodo.
I doe assure your grace
The Austrian and the duke of Saxony
By true report of pilgrimes at my cell
From eyther of there courts set hetherward
Some sixe dayes since.
Ferd.
Thankes Rodorick for this newes
They are more welcome then the sad discourse
Of Leningberg our nephewes timeles wrake
Which addeth sorrow to the mourning griefes
Abound in vs for our Dutches death.
Ie.
I truly Princes, my father has had but hard lucke since your
comming to his court, for ought I know you are bred of ill
weather, come before you are sent for, yet if my most gratious
father say you are welcome, I his more gratious sonne take you
by the hands, though I can tell you my mothers death comes
somewhat neere my heart, but I am a prince, and princes haue
Mat.
We know your worthinesse is experienc't in all true
wisedome.
Ier.
True, I am no foole, I haue bin at Wittenberg, where
wit growes.
Ferd.
Peace thou vnshapen honor, my states shame,
My ages corsiue, and my blacke sinnes curse,
Oh hadst thou neuer bin, I had bin then,
A happy childlesse man, now among men,
I am the most vnhappie, one that knowes
No end of mine, and of my peoples woes.
I tell you Princesse, and most gracious maids;
I doe not weare these sable ornaments
For Isabell'as death, though she were deare,
Nor are my eyelids ouerflowne with teares,
For Otho of Luningberg, wrackt in the Soun,
Though he were all my hope: but heer's my care,
A witlesse foole must needs be Prussias heire.
Ier.
Well, and you were not my father,—s'nailes, and I
would not draw rather then put vp the foole, would I
might neuer winne this lady at tilt and turnament: as
Knights, I defie you both, for her; euen you Lodowick, that
loues her, and your brother that loues you: looke to
me, Stilt, and I haue practis'd these two dayes: s'nailes god
forgiue me to sweare, she shall not be carried away so.
Mat.
We are glad to heare your grace so resolute.
Ier.
As I am a Prince, and a Dukes heire, though I say it
my selfe, I am as full of resolution as the prowdest of you
all
Luci.
I thanke Prince Lodowick he ha's bound my youth
To bee the conquerers prize, and if my starres
Allott me to be yours, I will be prowd,
For how so ere you seeme not fashioned
Like mee, and cunning Courtiers; I protest,
By some small loue I beare thee in mine eie,
Your worthy beautie, wealth and dignity.
Heart you would not vnhorse Hercules for her father,
ile practice againe at Dantzike, you say in the Dukes
meade; ile meete thee Mathias: ther's my gloue.
For a gauntlet, though my father count me a foole, you shall
finde me none.
Exit.
Ferd.
Would I might neuer find thee anything,
For thou indeede art nothing in esteeme,
My sad soule sinkes with sorrow at thy sight.
Enter Lorrique.
Lor.
Health to the right gratious, generous, vertuous,
and valorous Ferdinand Duke of Prussia.
Ferd.
Hermet dost thou not know this young mans face?
I'st not Lorique, that met vs at thy cell
With letters from our brother Luningberg?
Rodo.
It is that gentleman.
Lor.
I am no lesse.
Ferd.
thou saydst thou wast my nephewes playfellow,
Appointed to await his vertuous person,
How is it then thou wert so ill aduised
To take the land away, and forsake thy Lord?
Whom I haue neuer seene, nor neuer may,
Though in his life my hope and comfort lay.
Lor.
Be it knowne right gracious: Lorrique had neuer so
little grace, as to leaue his loued lord for weather or water,
for torture or fire, for death or for life, since I first came to
moue in a pilgrims proportion; much disguised, being so
proper a man: but onely for those sixe words; that I was
sent wholy to giue notice of his comming.
Ferd.
But thou hast left him now sunke in the sea.
Lor.
I left the ship sunke, and his highnesse sau'd, for
when all hope had left Master and pilot, sailer and swabber,
I caus'd my Lord to leape into the cocke, and for feare she
should be sunke with too much company; I caper'd out,
and cut the cable: rowse, quoth the ship against the rocks,
roomer cry I in the cocke, my Lord wept for the company:
I laught to comfort him; last by the power of heauen,
our cocke and wee were cast a shore vnder Reeshopscurre,
we clamberd vp, but hauing scap't drowning, were in danger
of killing.
Ferd.
What there betided you?
Lor,
Marry my Lord a young villaine, sonne of a damn'd
pirate, a mayd rauisher.
Ferd.
Be briefe, what was he?
Lor.
Clois Hoffman.
Fer.
Oh my heart! did the false rebell hurt his soueraignes
sonne?
Lor.
Noe my Lord, the prince so hought and hoft him,
that he had no other helpe but to his heeles, and then I, my
good Lord, being roefooted, outstript him in running, tript
him by strength, and in fine, finely cut's throat.
Ferd.
Where is the villaines body?
Lor.
Marry euen heaued ouer the scarr, and sent a swimming
toward Burtholme, his old habitation; if it bee not
intercepted by some Seale, Sharke, Sturgeon, or such like.
Ferd.
Where is our nephew?
Lor.
He intends to stay at the same hermitage, where I
saluted your excellence, with newes of my lords excellencies
intent, to visite you; for that his apparrell is somewhat
sea-sicke, and he wants shift.
Ferd.
A charriot, and rich robes attend Lorrique.
And his reward, be thirteene hundred dollers,
For he hath driuen dolour from our heart.
Princes, and Princesse, in your kindest loue,
Attend our person to the hermitage,
where we shall meete the heire of two great States,
Rich Luningberg, and warlike Prussias,
Otho liuing, wee'l disinherit our fond sonne:
And blesse all Dantzike, by our sonne elect,
Hermet you haue at home, a guest of ours,
Your little cell, is a great princes court;
Had you bin there to entertaine young Otho,
Where now he mournes, for want of company.
Rodo.
I will goe on before my gracious Lord.
Ferd,
Nay I am iealous of my approaching ioy,
And fearefull, any eye but mine, should gaine
The pleasure of my glad diuining soule;
Forward come all, in my delight take part,
He that's now glad, addes ioy to gladnes heart.
Exeunt
Enter Clois Hoffman.
If there liue ere a surgeon that dare say
He could doe better: ile play Mercury,
And like fond Marsias flea the Quacksaluer.
There were a sort of filthy Mountebankes,
Expert in nothing but in idle words,
Made a daies worke, with their incision kniues
On my opprest poore father: silly man,
Thrusting there dastard fingers in his flesh,
That durst not while he liued, behold his face;
I haue fitted my anatomy
In a faire chaine to; father this youth scorn'd
When he was set in an ascending throne,
To haue you stand by him; would he could see,
How the case alters, you shall hang by him,
And hang afore him to, for all his pride,
Come image of bare death, ioyne side, to side,
With my long iniur'd fathers naked bones;
He was the prologue to a Tragedy,
That if my destinies deny me not,
Shall passe those of Thyestes, Tereus,
Iocasta, or Duke Iasons iealous wife;
So shut our stage vp, there is one act done
Ended in Othos death; 'twas somewhat single;
Ile fill the other fuller, if Lorrique,
That I haue late sworne to be murders slaue,
sweares hee will protest me to be Othos,
Whom Prussia his vncle vnknowne loues;
Sweet vengeance make me happiest of all men:
Prussia, I come as comets against change:
As apparitions before mortall ends;
If thou accept me for thy nephewe, so;
Vncle, ile vncle thee of thy proud life.
Father farewell, ile to the hermitage,
Where if I be receaued for Luningberg,
I will haue thy drie bones, sanguin'd all or'e
With thy foes bloud, Rhamnusia helpe thy priest,
My wrong thou know'st, my willingnesse thou seest.
Exit.
| The Tragedy of Hoffman or A Reuenge for a Father | |