University of Virginia Library

Actus Quartus.

Scena Prima.

Evagrio, Iustiniano.
Eva.
Beleeve it sir, h'as all the signes of phrensie,
His inflam'd bloud boyles in his swelling veynes,
His eyes appeare like fire, his colour changes,
He grates his teeth, and falters in his speech;
Sometimes he folds his armes, and deeply sighes,
Then strikes his angry foot against the ground.

Iust.
Doth he continue in such violence
As at the first?

Eva.
Yes sir, by fits; sometimes
A stupid silence seizeth him, and then
He breaks againe into his former rage.

Iust.
These are, I must confesse, the noted symptomes
Of a hurt fancy; he's of a high spirit
Apt to resent a wrong (if it could be)
From fate it selfe; but, where he takes, a friend,
On whom a man may build, as on a rocke.

Eva.
True sir, his rising passions at your name,
Like a tumultuous multitude, at sight
Of a grave Iudge, were for the time appeas'd;
See where he comes, I pray observe, he vents
His passions often in poeticke rage.

Scena secunda.

Spinola, Iustiniano, Evagrio.
Spi.
Yee Furies, active ministers of hell,
That have your heads invironed with Snakes,
And in your cruell hands beare fiery scourges,
Lend me your bloudy torches to finde out,
And punish th'author of my deare sonnes murther,
Assist Megæra with a new revenge,
Such as even thou would'st feare to execute:
Let a vast sea of bloud o're-flow his house,
And never ebbe till I shall pitty him;
Ease now th'infernall ghosts, remove the stone
From th'Attick thiefe, and lay it on his shoulders,
Let the swift streame deceive his endlesse thirst,
And let his hands winde the unquiet wheele,
That hourely tortures the Thessalian King:
Let Vultures tire upon his growing Liver,
But let 'um ne're be tir'd; and since there is
One of the fifty Danaan sisters wanting,
Let them admit that man into her roome,
And with their Pitchers onely load his armes;
How am I sure 'tis he? or if it be?
It is the law of Retribution,
And is but just, my conscience tels me so:
Hence childish conscience, shall I live his scorne?
And the whole Cities Pasquill? I abhor it,
Were he protected by the thunderer,
I'de snatch him from his bosome, and in spite
Of his revengefull thunder, throw him quicke
Into the throat of the infernall dog;
Or if that monster be not yet releast,
Since great Alcides drag'd him in a chaine,
Through th'amaz'd townes of Greece, Enceladus
That with his earth-bred flames affrighteth heaven,
Rather then he shall scape, shall fire the world:
But I delay, and weare away the time
With empty words, why doe I call for Furies?
That beare in mine owne breast a greater fury
Then Acheron and night did ever hatch;
I'le dart my selfe like winged lightning on him;
Have I no friend?

Just.
Yes, one that dares assist you
In a more valiant act, to crush that Fury,
And to restore brave Spinola to himselfe.

Spin.
O faithfull soule, my deare Francisco's murder'd.

Iust.
A heavy fate, yet such as should be borne
Without so strange a tumult, what you give
T'unbridled rage, you take from your revenge.

Spi.
Wilt thou allow me to take vengeance, speake,
But speake Iustinian with thy wonted faith.

Iust.
Yes, such as law and Iustice shall allow.

Spi.
I have no skill in Law, and as for Iustice,
Your learned Stoickes make it but a foole,
A very animal.

Iust.
'Tis now not seasonable
To tell you whether Iustice, Fortitude,
And th'other vertues may be called creatures;
But I must tell you, that no creature can
Be happy, wanting them; whereof that man
Deprives himselfe, that subjugates his reason,
On which they all depend, to brutish passion;
Could you but be perswaded to reflect
Vpon your selfe, to see as in a glasse,
What a deformity this vice hath brought
Vpon your soule, although you hated me,
You would embrace my counsell.

Spi.
Deare Iustinian,
Fortune hath nothing left that's worth my hope,
But thy affection; at thy sole command,
I would attempt to swim the mid-land sea,
When Æolus and Neptune are at warres,
Expose my selfe to the fierce Dragons jawes,
Enraged by the theft of Hercules;
At thy command I'le live; hark, hark, what's that?
It is the voyce of my dead son, that cals
For vengeance; see, see where he stands and points
At his still-bleeding wound; he bids me thinke
What he had done ere now, had we chang'd fates;
Did you not see him?

Iust.
No, nor you your selfe,
'Twas nothing but a strong impression made
In your disturb'd imagination.

Spi.
Could both myne eyes and eares be so deceiv'd.

Iust.
That happens often to perplexed mindes.

Spi.
Alas, what shall I do?

Iust.
Let me perswade you
But to retire, perhaps some milde repose
May softly steale upon your troubled spirits,
To give you ease.

Spi.
If you will have it so,
My passions in my brest shall silence keepe,
I'le be as tame, as (what you wish me) sleepe.

Iust.
Waite on him in, I'le follow presently.

Scena Tertia.

Iustiniano.
The vnexpected death of his deare sonne,
So wounds his soule, that his distracted fancy
Suggests beliefe, he saw and hard him speake,
But that cannot seeme strange, if we consider
How far imagination doth usurpe
Vpon the power of Reason, though it be
A faculty coincident to Bruites,
Receiving objects from the common sence;
But these his perturbations I suspect
To flow from mixt affections, greife, and anger,
The last of which, sinkes deepest in the hearts
Of most of us Italians, and I doubt
That he thereby having involv'd himselfe
In that, which is our Nations crime, Revenge;
Hath bin by th'other faction vndermin'd:
If this be, his disease is cureable,
Yet so, as every vertuous man must thinke
The remedy as bad as the disease,
Vnles strickt Iustice do becom th'avenger,
Or that their owne sad fates appease his rage;
O how it wounds my heart to see my freind
And one that truly meriteth that name
(But for that vice, whereof not to be guilty
Is made a vice heere, by the Tyrant custome)
Plung'd in distresse, that cannot receive counsell!
But could he once with safety be restor'd
To his owne native ingenuity,
He would detest such crimes, his candid soule
Appeares in this, that in the midst of fury,
The sight or name of him he lov'd before
Can Orpheus-like calme his enraged spirit:
I therefore am oblig'd by sacred freindship
Even to devote my selfe to all iust meanes
Of his recovery, and I will performe it,
To cure Orestes (If the Heavens so please)
There shall not want a faithfull Pylades.

Scena Quarta.

Imperiale, Honoria, Angelica, Servants, Freinds, Doria, Maskers.
Imp.
Are all things ready.

Ser.
Yes sir.

Imp.
Noble friends,
Your presence gives addition to the honor
Which some young Gentlemen are pleas'd to do me
In the free presentation of their mirth
Most seasonable in time of Carnivall,
And fit to celebrate this joyfull feast
Which we may challenge as our holy-day.

Fri. 1
The honor of this day chiefely belongs
To you and to your family, but yet
The benefit redounds to the whole State,
Which every yeare is thankfully acknowledged.

Fri. 2
The State, by such acknowledgement invites
All generous spirits beyond common duty
To venture life and fortune for her safety.

Imp.
This common wealth that makes them truly happy
That share the blessings of her government
Disdaines not, like a tyranny, to owe
A benefit to subiects; nor rewards
With banishment, in stead of Bayes, their merit:
But hart, musicke proclaims the maskers comming,
Be pleas'd to take your places, there are seats.

Fri. 1.
I must crave leave to place your daughter, sir,
She that is once betrothed is a Bride.

Jmp.
'Twere incivility in her, or us,
If you request it, not to be uncivill,
Sit downe Angelica.

Hon.
Sit downe, sit downe,
Our friends desires are in our house, commands.

A boy, clad like a nuptiall Genius, sings this song.
Come Hymen, light thy full branch'd Pine,
And let a rosie wreath intwine
Thy reeking brow, let thy brave sire
With liquid vertue thee inspire,
While waggish boyes in witty rimes,
Taxing the follies of the times,
Spare not their masters, who are now
Content this freedome to allow;
Thus the chaste girdle of the Bride
Must be by pleasant rites unti'd,
But let darke silence bring to bed
Such as want Hymen when they wed.

The song ended, Hymen and his Fescennine youths appeare clad in antique formes, dancing a wanton dance, at the end of which, Prince Doria representing Thalassius, enters with other young gentlemen his friends, attired like Romans, with their swords drawne: at sight whereof Hymen and his company runne away confusedly: then they put up their swords, and dance a warlike dance, at the end whereof Doria suddenly embraceth Angelica, the Masquers all crying out.
Mas.
For Thalassius, for Thalassius.

Imp.
Though custome challengeth a liberty
To take our wives and daughters forth to tread
A measure without scandall, yet t'embrace,
And whisper too, requires a better warrant
Then carnivall permission, it implyes
Domesticke priviledge, or an affront.

Mas.
For Thalassius, for Thalassius.

Imp.
That voyce was frequent at a publick rape,
But sacred hospitality forbids
All jealousie of any ill intent.

Dor.
Not, as the Romans when they had betraid
The Sabine Virgins, do my glad friends make
These acclamations of Thalassius,
But rather as a more auspicious name
Then that of drowsie and lascivious Hymen;
Behold the late Ambassador himselfe
Thus contradicts his owne feyn'd embasie.

Ang.
My Doria!

Hon.
O perfect happinesse!

Fri. 2.
See how Prince Doria hath surpriz'd us all,
Transform'd into a nuptiall Deitie.

Imp.
My doubt is in the better sense resolv'd:
You may perceive y'are welcome by the joy
Exprest both by my daughter, and my wife,
In no dry complement, but in a moist
And silent Oratory.

Dor.
Which works more
On my affections, then a golden tongue;
But tell me my divine Angelica,
How could'st thou at the tidings of my death,
Put on a valiant incredulity?
And when thou find'st me safe burst out in teares.

Ang.
To lend beliefe to any ill report
Of a known friend, although aver'd with boldnes,
In common friendship were unpardonable,
Much more in such a love as mine, which finding
In a mayne part a manifest untruth
Was for your honour bound to slight the rest:
And though there be a contrarietie
In the true causes of our joy and griefe,
Yet both are oftentimes exprest with teares,

Dor.
I could not entertaine nor then nor now,
The least suspition of thy constancy,
But truest love delights to please it selfe
With such disguises, and to finde by trials
Our owne assurance many wayes confirm'd:
Nor had I ventur'd to disturb thy thoughts,
Which thy discerning judgement did prevent,
But that I had a present remedy.

Ang.
I might have safely tasted what the Mede,
Or the fierce Parthian dips his arrows in,
So long as there was such an antidote.

Dor.
Were I left helplesse by Machaons art,
Thy presence hath a vertue would restore me,
Pandora on whom each Deity bestow'd
A severall gift, was not endow'd like thee.

Jmp.
So soone at strife? if you will needs contend
Who will love best, I'le put you both together.

Dor.
He whose ambition made him weep and sweat
Within the narrow limits of one world,
Did never thirst so much for fame and glory,
As I for that encounter, in which combat,
Whether I vanquish, or am vanquished,
I shall not envy Pompey or Cæsars triumphs:
In the meane time I'le crave an houre or two
For preparation of some necessaries,
Whereof my absence makes me destitute.

Imp.
Troth my occasions have the like request,
And therefore if this noble company
Will honour us to morrow with their presence,
We shall endeavour to requite their loves.

1 Fri.
Most willingly.

2 Fri.
And at your nuptiall feast,
Wee'l wish that every grace may be your guest.

Dor.
I'le soon return, my heart with thee shal stay
As a sure pawne.

Ang.
You carry mine away.

Jmp.
You have some busines too must be dispatcht,
Goe, loose no time; Molosso come thou hither,
I leave thee in my absence to take care,
That supper be prepar'd, and tell the Steward
That great revenue, parcimony, now
Must be by us neglected: thriving men
In charges that come seldome, are profuse.

Scena Sexta.

Molosso.
I shall sir, yes, by that time you returne,
You shall confesse you have a skilfull Cater:
Why should proud greatnesse undervalue us,
And our condition? since all men are slaves;
If we survey the greatest monarchies,
What art their Courtiers else? with all the suits
They either beg or weare? the rich Banquier
Enthrals his debtor, and his money him:
This Captaine is a captive to that wench;
This Magistrate to bribes; that Lord to pride,
This Statesman to ambition; all to feare:
From whence we only that have nought to loose,
Are free, and that shall instantly appeare;
I'le send the servants forth, that Sango and I
May act our part with more security.
See how the fates themselves have help'd to bring
The Beast into my toile, and made both him
And his whole house the subject of my vengeance,
My joy is such, I cannot temper it:
As when the bloud-hound in a leash being led,
Noseth the ground, and while the prey's far off,
Spares both his mouth and feet, but drawing neer,
Will open wide, and drag away his leader,
So are my thoughts transported, I'le away,
My fury cals for bloud, and I obey.

Chorus of two.
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