 | The Queen, or The Excellency of Her Sex |  |
Act IV.
Enter Salassa and Shaparoon.Salas.
A coward? 'tis impossible; Velasco
a coward? The brave man? The
wonder of the time? Sure, Shaparoon,
'tis a meer scandal rais'd by an
enemy.
Shap.
'Tis most certain, most apparent;
Taylors, Prentizes, nay, Bakers
and Weavers; (things that drink cannot
put spirit into, they are such mighty
bread-eaters) they as I am an honest
woman, fling old shoes at him, and he
dares not turn back to give an angry
word.
Salas.
I had been sweetly promoted
to such a tame Champion.
Shap.
Gallants! Out upon 'em, 'tis
your tough clown is your only raiser up
of man or woman.
Salas.
A Proclimation is sent out for
certain?
Shap.
Most assuredly.
Salas.
The sum proposed, a hundred
thousand ducats.
Shap.
Present payment, without attendance.
Salas.
'Tis a glorious reward—speak
low, and observe.
Enter Mopas reading a Proclamation.
Mop.
Whosoever, man or woman, can,
or will procure any such foresaid defendant,
against the said day; let them,
him, or she repair to the said lords of the
Councel, and give in such sufficient
assurance for such defence, and they or
any of them shall receive a hundred
thousand ducats in ready cash; with
what honors may give them, him, or
her content or satisfaction.
O that I durst be valiant: A hundred
thousand. A hundred thousand; how
it rumbles in my chops.
Salas.
Prethee, a word, my friend.
Mop.
Sweet Lady, all fair weather up
on ye.
As for you, Madam, time was, I recommend
to your ancient remembrance,
time is past: with my service forwards
and backwards, when 'tis time present,
resting yours in the whole Mopas.
Shap.
Very courtly and pithy.
Salas.
Pray let me view your paper.
Mop.
'Tis your ladiships.
Shap.
Some proclamation as I take it.
Mop.
Madam Reverence, you have taken
it in the right cue.
Salas.
I am o'rejoy'd; there's gold for
thy news. Friend. I will make thee the
happiest and most welcom messenger to
thy lord, that ever received thanks
from him; without delay, wait on me
for instructions.
Mop.
I am at your ladiships beck.
Exeunt.
Enter Alphonso, and Muretto.
Muret.
True, true, Sir, you are set high
upon the stage for action. O the top of
my ambition, my hearts Idol!
What a perplexity are you twin'd into?
And justly; so justly, that it is hard
to judge, whether your happiness were
greater in the possession of an unmatchable
beauty, or your present misery, by
inforcing that beauty to expose her honor
to so apparent a contempt: This is
not the least, that might have been in
time prevented.
Alph.
O I am lost Muretto, my sunke eyes
Are buried in their hollows: busie thoughts
Press on like legions of infernal hags
To menace my destruction: Yet my judgment
Still prompts my senses, that my Queen is fair.
Muret.
Fair! Unspeakable workmanship
of Heavens bounty. Were all the
skilfullest Painters that ever discern'd
colours, moulded into one, to perfect an
Artist. Yet that Artist should sooner
want fansie or imagination, for personating
a curious medal, then ever to
patern a counterfeit so exquisitely excellent,
as is the Queen by nature.
Alph.
I have surveyed the wonder of her cheeks,
Compar'd them wth the lillies and the rose
Adulterate to her blush, and lilies pale,
Examin'd with her white; yet, blear eyed fool,
I could not see those rarities before me.
Muret.
Every man is blind (my lord)
in his own happiness, there's the curse
of our mortality.
Her perfections busied all tongues.
She was the onely wish of Europes chiefest Monarchs.
Whose full fruition you (and 'twas your
capital sin) most inhumanly abandoned.
Alph.
Villain, Petruchi, let me for ever
curse him: Had he not been the man;
who else had durst to hazard a denyal
from her scorns?
Muret.
See now herein you are monstrous
discourteous, above excuse; why,
Sir, what hath Petruchi done? Which
(from any King to a Vassal) al men would
not eagerly have persued. Alas, my lord,
his nobleness is eternal, by this means, in
attempting and his felicity unmatchable,
in injoying the glory of his time, a beau
so conquering, so unparalell'd.
Alph.
She is superlative.
Muret.
Divine.
Alph.
Rich, bright.
Muret.
immortal.
Alph.
Too too worthy for a man.
Mur.
The Gods might enjoy her.
Alph.
Nature ne're fram'd so sweet a
creature.
Muret.
She is self Nature's Nature.
Alph.
Let me for ever curse the frail condition
Of our deluded faculties: Muretto,
Yet being all, as she is all, her best
Is worst considering that she is a wanton.
Muret.
Build you a Palace, arch it
with Diamonds, roof it with Carbuncles,
pave it with Emraulds, daub it
with Gold, furnish it with all what cost
can lay on, and then seal up the doors,
and at best 'tis but a solitary nest for
Owles and Daws.
Beauty was not meerly created for wonder,
but for use: 'Tis you were in the
fault; 'tis you perswaded her, urg'd,
compell'd, inforc'd her: I know it, my
truth and plainness trumpets it out to
ye: Besides, women (my lord) are all
creatures, not Gods nor Angels.
Alph.
I must confess 'tis true, yet by my Crown
She dyes, if none defend her, I'm resolv'd.
Muret.
'Tis a heroical disposition, and
with your honour she cannot, must not
live. Here's the point; If she live and you
receive her to favour, you will be a noted
Cuckold; which is a recognizance
dishonorable to all, but to a King fearfully
infamous. On the other side, if you
prevail, and she be put to death, you do
as it were deprive the Firmanent of the
Sun, and your self of the treasure of the
whole earth.
Alph.
Right, right, Muretto, there thou strik'st the wound
Too deeply to be cur'd, yet I must do't.
I would fain see her now.
Muret.
Pray do, Sir; and let Petruchi
come face to face to her; observe them
both, but be very mild to both: use extremity
to neither.
Alph.
Well counsell'd; call them hither, but none with them:
Wee'll strive with grief; Heaven! I am plung'd at full.
Never henceforward shall I slumber out
One peaceful hour; my enraged blood
Turns coward to mine honour. I could wish
My Queen might live now though I did but look
And gaze upon her cheeks, her ravishing cheeks.
But, oh, to be a Cuckold; 's death, she dyes.
Enter at one door Petruchi, and the other Muretto and the Queen, they stand at several ends of the Stage.
Muret.
My gratious Lord.
Alph.
Reach yond fair sight a chair,
That man a stool, sit both, wee'll have it so.
Mur.
'Tis Kingly done; in any case
of your passion, and be temperate.
Qu.
Sir, 'tis my part to kneel, for on your brow
I read sad sentence of a troubled wrath,
And that is argument enough to prove
my guilt, not being worthy of your favour.
Petr.
Let me kneel too, though not for pardon, yet
In duty to this presence: else I stand
As far from falsehood, as is that from truth
Muret.
Nay, Madam, this not the promise on your part.
It is his pleasure you should sir.
Qu.
His pleasure is my law.
Alph.
Let him sit too, the man,
Both sit.
Petr.
Sir, you are obey'd.
Alph.
Between my comforts and my shame I stand
In equal distance; this way let me turn
To thee thou woman. Let me dull mine eyes
With surfeit on thy beauty. What art thou
Great dazeling splendor? Let me ever look
And dwell upon this presence.
Muret.
Now it works.
Alph.
I am distract. Say? What! Do not, do not—
Muret.
My lord the King—Why, Sir?—
He is in a trance, or else metamorphis'd
to some some pillar of marble: How fixedly
a' stands.
My lord, this is your Queen speak to her.
Alph.
May I presume with my irreverent lips
To touch your sacred hand.
Qu.
I am too wretched
To be thought but the subject of your mirth.
Alph.
Why she can speak, Muretto? O tell me pray,
And make me ever, ever fortunate;
Are you a mortal creature? Are ye indeed
Moulded of flesh and blood like other women?
Can you be pittiful? Can ye vouchsafe
To entertain fair parley? Can you love,
Or grant me leave to love you; can you, say?
Qu.
You know too well, my lord, instead of granting,
I ow a duty, and must sue to you,
If I may not displease.
Alph.
Now I am great,
You are my Queen, and I have wrong'd a merit,
More then my service in the humblest lowness
Can ever recompence. I'll rather wish
To meet whole hosts of dangers, and encounter
The stabled whips of steel, then ever part
From those sweet eyes: not time shall sue divorce
'Twixt me and this great miracle of Nature.
Muretto?
Muret.
Soveraign Sir.
Alph.
I'll turn away,
And mourn my former errors—Worse then death
Look where a Basilisk with murthering flames
Of poyson, strikes me Blinde. Insatiate tempter,
Patern of lust, 'tis thou alone hast sundred
Our lawful bride bed, planted on my crest
The horned Satyrs badge; hast soyl'd a beauty
As glorious, as sits yonder on her front.
Kill him, Muretto, why should he receive
The benefit of the law, that us'd no law
In my dishonours?
Petr.
Were you more a King
Then Royalty can make you, though opprest
By your commanding powers, yea, and curb'd
In bonds most falsely, yet, give me a sword
And strip me to my shirt, I will defend
Her spotless vertue, and no more esteam,
Then a poor stingless swarm of buzzing flies.
Qu.
Petruchi, in those words thou dost condemn
Thy loyalty to me, I shall disclaim
All good opinion of thy worth or truth,
If thou persevere to affront my lord.
Petr.
Then I have done. Here's misery unspeakable;
Rather to yeeld me guilty wrongfully,
Then contradict my wrongs.
Alph.
High impudence.
Could she be ten times fairer then she is,
Yet I would be reveng'd. You sweet, I would
Again—Her beams quite blast me.
Muret.
If you will be an Eaglet of the
right aery, you must endure the Sun.
Can you chuse but love her?
Alph.
No by the Stars. Why would not
you be honest; and know how I do dote?
Qu.
May I be bold
To say I am, and not offend?
Alph.
Yes, yes,
Say so for heavens love, though you be as fowl
As sin can black your purity. Yet tell me
That you are white and chast; That while you live
The span of your few dayes, I may rejoyce
In my deluded follies; least I dye
Through anguish, e're I have reveng'd my injury,
And so leave you behind me for another;
That were intollerable.
Qu.
Heaven knows, I ne're abus'd my
self or you.
Petr.
As much sware I, and truly.
Alph.
Thou proud Devil,
Thou hast a lying tongue; They are consented
In mischief. Get ye hence seducing horrors.
I'll stop mine eyes and ears till you are gone.
As you would be more merciful, away,
Or as you would finde mercy.
Ex. Queen Petruchi contrary waies.
Muret.
Sir, they are gone.
Alph.
And she too then let me be seen no more.
I am distracted, both waies I seel my blame;
To leave her death, to live with her is shame.
Exit.
Muret.
Fare ye well King, this is admirable,
I will be chronicled, all my
business ripens to my wishes. And if
honest intentions thrive so successfully;
I will henceforth build upon this assurance,
that there can hardly be a greater
Hell or Damnation, then in being a Villane
upon earth.
Exit.
Enter Lodovico, Salassa, Shaparoon.
Lodov.
I am wonder stricken—And
were you i'faith the she indeed, that
turn'd my Lords heart so handsomly, so
cunningly? O how I reverence wit. Well,
lady, you are as pestilent a piece of policy,
as ever made an ass of love.
Salas.
But, Lodovico, I'll salve all again
quickly.
Shap.
Yes indeed forsooth, she has the
trick on't.
Lodov.
You have undertaken with the
lords already, you say.
Salas.
I have, and my life is at stake,
but I fear not that.
Lodov.
Pish, you have no need; one
smile, or kinde simper from you does all;
I warrant ye the sight of so much gold,
as you are to receive, hath quickned
your love infinitely.
Salas.
Why, Sir, I was not worthy
of my lords love before; I was too
poor: but now two hundred thousand
ducats, is a dower fit for a lord.
Lodov.
Marry is't. I applaud your consideration.
'Twas neatly thought on.
Enter Collumello and Almada.
Col.
Have you prevail'd yet, lady, time runs on,
You must not dally.
Salas.
Good my lords, fear nothing:
Were it but two hours to't, I should be ready.
Lodov.
He comes himself, 'tis fit we stood unseen.
Ply him soundly, lady.
Alm.
Let us withdraw then.
Exeunt.
Velas.
I cannot be alone, still I am hunted
With my confounding thoughts: Too late I finde,
How passions at their best are but sly traytors
To ruin honour. That which we call love,
Was by the wisest power above forethought
To check our pride. Thus when men are blown up
At the highest of conceit, then they fall down
Even by the peevish follies of their 'frailties.
Salas.
The best of my lord Velasco's wishes ever.
Crown him with all true content.
Velas.
Cry ye mercy, Lady.
Salas.
I come to chide you my Lord;
can it be possible that ever any man
could so sincerely profess such a mightiness
of affection, as you have done to
me, and forget it all so soon, and so unkindely.
Velas.
Are you a true very lover, or are you bound
For pennance to walk to some holy shrine
In visitation? I have seen that face.
Salas.
Have you so? O you are a hot
lover; a woman is in fine case to weep
out her eyes for so uncertain a friend, as
your protestations urg'd me to conceive
you: But come I know what you'll say
aforehand, I know you are angry.
Velas.
Pray give me leave to be my
own tormentor.
Salas.
Very angry, extreamly angry;
But as I respect perfection, tis more then
I deserve.
Little know you the misery I have endured,
and all about a hasty word of
nothing, and I'll have it prove nothing
e're we part.
Velas.
Her pride hath made her lunatick, alas!
She hath quite lost her wits, those are the fruits
Of scorns and mockeries.
Salas.
To witness how indearedly I
prefer your merits, and love your person;
in a word, my lord, I absolve you,
and set you free from the injunction I
bound you in; as I desire to thrive, I
meant all but for a tryal in jest.
Velas.
these are no words of madness; whither tends
The extremity of your invention, Lady?
I'll swear no more.
Salas.
I was too blame, but one fault
(me thinks) is to be pardoned, when I
am yours and you firmly mine: I'll bear
with many in you.
Velas.
So, if you be in earnest; What's
the matter?
Salas.
The sum of all is, that I know
it suits not with the bravery of the
lord Velasco's spirit, to suffer his Queen
and soveraign stand wrongfully accused
of dishonour, and dye shamefully for a
fault never committed.
Velas.
Why 'tis no fault of mine.
Salas.
Nor shall it be of mine: Go be
a famous subject; be a ransomer of thy
Queen from dangers, be registred thy
Countries patron: Fight in defence of
the fairest and innocentest princess alive:
I with my heart release you.
First conquer; that done, enjoy me
ever for thy wife: Velasco, I am thine.
Velas.
Pish, you release me, all their cunning strains
Of policy that set you now a work,
To treble ruin me, in life, fame, foul,
Are foolish and unable to draw down
A greater wrath upon my head; in troth
You take a wrong course lady.
Salas.
Very good, Sir, 'tis prettily put
off, and wondrous modestly, I protest;
no man hath enjoyn'd me to this task
'tis onely to do service to the State,
and honour to you.
Velas.
No man enjoyn'd you but your
self?
Salas.
None else, as I ever had truth
in me.
Know then from me, you are a wicked woman,
And avarice, not love to me, hath forc'd ye
To practice on my weakness. I could raile,
Be most uncivil; But take all in short:
I know you not.
Salas.
Better and better, the man
will triumph anon sure; Prethee, good
dissemble no longer; I say you shall
fight, I'll have it so: I command you
fight, by this kiss you shall.
Velas.
Forbear, let me in peace bid you forbear;
I will be henceforth still a stranger to you,
Ever a stranger, look, look up, up there
My oath is bookt, no humane power can free me.
Salas.
I grant you none but I.
Velas.
Be not deceived, I have
Forgot your scorns; you are lost to me,
Witness the Genius of this place, how e're
You tempt my constancy, I dare not fight.
Salas.
Not dare to fight, what not for
me?
Velas.
No Lady.
I durst not, must not, cannot, will not fight.
Salas.
O me undone.
Velas.
What ayles you?
Salas.
Now my life
Hath run it's last for I have pawn'd it Sir
To bring you forth as champion for the Queen.
Velas.
And so should have the promis'd
Gold.
Salas.
I, I.
Velas.
You have reveng'd my wrongs upon your selfe.
I cannot helpe you, nay alas you know
It lay nor in me.
Salas.
O take pitty on mee,
Look heer, I hold my hands up, bend my knees,
Heaven can require no more.
Velas.
Then kneel to heaven
I am no God, I cannot do you good.
Salas.
Shall not my tears prevayle? hard-hearted Man.
Dissembler, loves dishonour, bloody butcher
Of a poor Lady, be assured my Ghost
Shall haunt thy soule when I am dead.
Velas.
Your curse
Is falne upon youur own head, herein show
A noble piety, to beare your death
With resolution, and for finall answer
Lady I will not fight to gain the world.
Exit.
Salas.
Gone! I have found at length my just reward,
And henceforth must prepare to welcom Death.
Velasco I begin to love thee now.
Now I perceave thou art a noble man,
Compos'd of Goodnes, what a foole was I?
It grieves me more to loose him then to die.
Enter Almada, Columello, Lodovico, Shaproon.
Coll.
Lady we have heard all that now hath past,
You have deceav'd your selfe and us, the time
We should have spent in seeking other means.
Is lost, of which you are the cause.
Alm.
And for it
The senats strickt decree craves execution,
what can you say?
Salas.
My Lords I can no more
but yeild me to the law.
Shap.
O that ever you were born, you
have made a sweet hand on't, have you
not.
Lodov.
Here is the right recompence
of a vain confidence, Mistresse: But I
will not torture you being so neer your
end, lady say your prayers and die in
Charity, that's all the pitty I can take
on ye
Exit Lodovico.
Coll.
Ten times the gold you should
have had, now Lady cannot release you.
Alm.
You alone are shee
Ruins your country. Heres the price of sin,
Ill thrift, all loose in seeking all to win.
Exit. all but shaproon.
Nay even go thy ways, 'tis an
old proverbe that leachery and covetousnes
go together, and 'tis a true one
too, But I'le shift for one.
If some proper squire or Iustly yeoman
have a mind to any thing I have about
me, 'a shall soon know what to trust too
for I see the times are very troublesome.
Enter Pynto.
Pyn.
Now is the prosperous season
when the whole round of the planets
are coupling together. Let birds and
beasts observe valentines day, I am a
man and all times are with me in season,
this same Court ease hath sett my blood
on tiptoe, I am Madder then a march
hare.
Shap.
Blessing on your fair face, your
handsome hand, your clean foot sir, are
you a Courtier sir?
Pyn.
Good starrs direct me, sweet woman,
I am a Courtier, if you have any
suit, what is't, what is't? be short.
Shap.
Lord what a Courteous proper
man 'a is, trust me, 'a hath a most eloquent
beard.—Suit Sir, Yes Sir, I am
a countrey gentlewoman by father and
Mothers side, one that comes to see fashions
and learne newes. And How I
pray sir (if I may be so bold to aske)
stand things at Court Sir now a dayes?
Pyn.
A very modest necessary and discreet
Question.
Indeed Mistris Countrey-Gentlewoman,
things at Court stand as they were ever
wont, some stiffe and some slacke, every
thing according to the imployment it
hath.
Shap.
Mary, the more pitty sir, that
they have not all good doing a like, methinkes,
they should be all and at all
times ready heer.
Pyn.
You speake by a figure, by your
leave, in that.
But because you are a stranger, I will a
litte more amply informe you.
Heer at our Court of Arragon, Schollars
for the most part are the veriest fooles
for that they are allways, beggerly and
prowd. And foolish citizens the wisest
schollars for that they never run at charges
for greater learning to cast up their
reck'nings, then their Horn-book.
Here every old lady is cheaper then a
proctor, and will as finely convey an open
act, without any danger of a consistory.
Love and money sweepes all before
them, be they cut or longtayle. Do
not I deserve a kisse for this discovery
Mistris.
Shap.
A kisse, O my dear chastity, yes
indeed forsooth, and I pray please your
selfe.
Pyn.
Good wench by venus, but are
you any thing rich?
Shap.
Rich enough to serve my turn.
Pyn.
I see you are reasonable fair.
Shap.
I ever thought my selfe so.
Pyn.
Will you survey my lodgings?
Shap.
At your pleasure sir being under
your gard as I am.
Enter Mopas and Bufe.
Buf.
Sirrha Mopas, If my mistresse say
but the word, thou shalt see what an exployt,
I will doe.
Mop.
You'le undertake it you saw,
though your throat be cut in your own
defence, 'tis but manslaughter, you can
never be hang'd for it.
Buf.
Nay I am resolute in that point,
heer's my hand, let him shrinke, that
list, I'le not flinch a hayres breadth Mopas.
Mop.
What, old huddle and twang so
close at it, and the dog dayes so neer,
Heark ye, your lady is going the way of
all flesh. And so is that schollar with you
methinkes, though not in the same cue,
is 'a not?
Shap.
'A has promist to tell me my
fortune at his chamber, and do me some
other good for my ladies safety.
Pyn.
I have spoken, the planers shall
be rul'd by me, Captain, you know they
shall.
Buf.
Let the planets hang themselves
in the elements, what cared, I have other
matters to trouble my braines.
Mop.
Signior Pynto take her to you, as
true a mettall'd blade as ever was turn'd
into a dudgion, hearke in your eare.
Enter Lodovico and Herophill.
Lodov.
I know not how to trust you,
you ar all so fickle so unconstant.
If I faile
Let me be mark't a Strumpet.
Lodov.
I apprehend you use him kindly still,
See where 'a is, Captain you are well mett,
Her'es one whose heart you have.
Herop.
He knowes he has.
Buf.
Why by my troth I thanke you
forsooth, 'tis more of your curtesie then
my deserving, but I shall study to deserve
it.
Herop.
I hope so, and doubt it not.
Lodov.
Madam Cosen Shaproon.
Shap.
You are welcom sir.
Pyn.
Cosen, Nay then I smell she is a
gentlewoman indeed.
Mop.
Yes, and as antiently descended
as Flesh and blood can derive her.
Pyn.
I am a made man and I will have
her.
Herop.
You'le walke with me sir?
Buf.
Even through fire and water.
sweet Mistres.
Lodov.
Let's every one to what concerns us most,
For now's the time all must be sav'd or lost,
Exeunt all.
| The Queen, or The Excellency of Her Sex | |