 | The tragedie of Lodovick Sforza Dvke of Millan |  |
31
Actus tertii
Scena prima.
Vmbra Galeatii.No rest in death? why then I see they erre
That giue a quiet to a sepulcher.
'Tis our hard fate, nor can Man chuse but dye,
But where Griefe is, is Immortality.
This drawes our iuicelesse bones to a new day,
From Lethes bankes, where we haue learnt the way,
(An easie learning) to returne our woes,
And laugh at our misfortunes in our foes.
Wee'll draw felicity out of our fall,
And make our ghost reuenge our Funerall.
That our dimme Eyes, and with pale death benighted,
May by reuenge be clear'd, and we be righted
(If other punishment should come too slow)
By the exacter iustice of our foe.
When being betray'd by them he trusted most,
He shall be pris'ner in a forren coast,
When wanting sustenance, his teeth shall chaw
His armes for food, and their once feeders gnaw.
When Hell shall haue but part of him, when he
That now triumphs shall be lesse ghost then we.
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Scena secunda.
Sforza. Ascanio.Asc.
Sforza , you are vndone.
Sf.
Why my Ascanio?
Fortune is fearfull of so foule a crime.
Asc.
You durst be bad, and yet improuident,
And so it is not Fortunes, but your crime.
Which shall I first beginne to blame? your fault
Or (pardon if I call it) Foolishnesse:
I faint to thinke that you are past excuse,
Both with the honest and the Politicke.
Sf.
Come neerer, my deare Cardinall, and tell
In easier termes what tis that troubles you:
Is Galeazzo's death divulg'd?
Asc.
It is:
The time, the manner, and the murtherer,
Nor am I free from th'imputation.
Sf.
You speake what you suspect, not what is true,
Does speech come from the dead? can their dry'd nerues
Borrow a tongue for accusation?
This is no other then the voice of Guilt,
The speech of our home-executioner:
And yet I feare—and yet what should I feare?
Bloud hath strange organs to discourse withall,
It is a clamorous Oratour, and then
Enter Sanseuerin, Halberdeers & Vitel.
Euen Nature will exceed her selfe to tell
A crime so thwarting Nature.
Sans.
My good Lord,
Pardon the zeale of my intrusion,
I bring hid danger with me: 'twas my chance
As I was passing to the bed chamber,
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Waiting some trecherous opportunity.
Each circumstance swell'd with suspition,
The place, the time, the person, all did seeme
To beare a danger worthy of your feare,
At least your wiser disquisicion.
Sf.
Thou art all goodnesse, and deseru'st of vs
Beyond the niggardly reward of thankes:
But what are you that thus be cloud your face,
Who, not vnlike that ouer-bashfull fowle,
He discouers himselfe.
Delight in darknesse? Ha! Vitellio!
The wonder is resolu'd by a new wonder.
Ex. Sans.
Vit.
Sforza I liue: d'yee stare? I liue: these words
Are not the fond delusions of the Ayre,
As you officiously would gull your selfe;
But from a solid substance, had not we
Enter Sans. with two Negroes.
Bin by your diligent spy too soone surpriz'd,
Before our proiects full maturity,
Thy death more fully should haue prou'd my life.
Sf.
Foole that I was, who thought to take thy life
By that which nourisht it: there's none so mad
Would poison Serpents, Ile worke surely now,
Once more Ile try your immortality.
Strangle the Monster.
Uit.
'Twas a doubtfull chance
Within this houre who first should owne those words.
But, Tyrant, weary thy inuention
To finde variety of punishment,
Yet all that thou canst doe, exceeds not this,
A pinne could doe as much: weake, silly Sforza,
All thou canst doe to me exceeds not that
Which I did on the person of thy Prince:
Disease would proue a better murtherer.
Sf.
Stop that malignant throat.—O my Ascanio,
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How I could wish an innocent descent
To new subiection? how I hate that wish!
How scorne all thoughts that haue not danger in them
Get vs more Remora's, sweet Cardinall,
Or rather then to droope to Idlenesse,
Wee'll worke to be no Prince, our selfe re-calling:
In rising, most, some wit there is in falling.
Scena tertia.
Caiazzo.Assist me, Hell, for I intend an Act,
Which should your puny fiends but thinke vpon,
Would make their blacker cheekes receiue a blush,
Would giue a rednesse which your weaker Fire
Had ne're that heating pow'r to worke in them:
An act, the Heau'ns did onely then declare
They would permit to be perform'd by man
When they created Night: for were all Day,
Could such a Crime be as well seene as done,
Their Immortality might iustly seare,
Lest all the guilt should be remou'd on them,
As Idle, or as Cruell lookers on,
Whilst Heau'n, on Earth did suffer: this blacke night
Must Isabella dye, dye, by this hand:
This Chappell is her ordinary walke,
Discouer'd to me by her Iulia,
Where when she comes to see her husbands tombe,
This hand shall make her fit for such a roome.
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Is.
Prince of shades, (for vnto me
Still thou keep'st thy Maiesty)
If thou art not wholly lost,
And there's something in a Ghost:
Heare thy Isabella's vow:
If hereafter I allow
Of a second match, or know
Any man, but for a foe,
Sauing him that shall ingage
His reuenge vnto my rage:
(Heare iust Heau'ns) may J then be
Made another Ghost like thee,
May I dye, and neuer haue
What I visit now, a Graue.
Cai.
O doe not heare her Heau'n, and kill me straight
If I dare touch her: he that sees those eyes
And dares attempt to make those eyes not see,
Has a blinde soule: burne clearer, you kind lights,
O doe not enuy me the sight of her:
But what's there in a sight? I must be briefe,
If not for loue, yet for ambition:
Her Mariage makes me greater then her Death,
And she has taught me the condition.
Pardon, bright Angell, and returne the sword,
Which Sforza made me sweare to sheath in you,
Into my bosome
Is.
No, obey your Prince,
36
Murther is nothing vnto periury.
Cai.
By this faire hand you iniure me, and more
Then euer Sforza did: can you suppose
(Though you had heard the vowes he forc't me to)
I meant what I protested? that this hand
Which euer yet has vs'd a sword for you,
Would vse it now for your destruction.
Reuoke that thought, deare Lady, that harsh thought,
And let not so much sweeter innocence
Make it selfe guilty by suspition,
Suspition of impossibilities.
Rather command, and you shall quickly see
That he, who would haue arm'd me against you,
Shall finde in his owne entrailes the iust steele.
Is.
aside.
What traps are these to catch the Innocent?
Sforza I smell your proiect, 'tis too ranke.
My Lord, no more: your speech is dangerous,
I must not heare it.
Cai.
You shall see it then:
Doe not beleeue me Madam till I'ue done,
Till I doe bring my credit in my armes,
The Traitors head, and when you see that time,
Confesse you owe your life vnto my crime.
Scena quarta.
Picinino, Iuliano.Iul.
What will become of this declining state?
Can we beleeue that the yet patient heau'n
Will any longer suffer? and not giue
Destruction as notorious as our crimes.
Awake, sterne Iustice, and vnsheath thy sword,
37
Nor is't enough to brandish, but to strike:
Let then thy terrour giue vs innocence,
That mildnesse may no longer iniure man.
Pic.
Why, thou perpetuall Murmurer, thou sea
Tost with eternall tempest, thou darke sky
With euerlasting clouds, thou—any thing,
Whom, being angry I can call no more:
Thinke better of those acts thou canst not mend.
Will Sforza be lesse bad, because thou whin'st?
Or dost thou thinke thy pittifull complaints
Can beg a goodness: of Ascanio?
I neuer knew that mighty vse of teares,
That they could wash away anothers fault:
When thou shalt want a teare for a fit griefe,
Sanseuerin will be a Coward still:
And when thy groanes are turn'd to thy last gaspe,
Caiazzo will not be lesse trecherous.
Enter Sanseuerin, with diuers suitors following him, some of whose bils be teares, others laughs at, others puts vp.
Exit.
Iul.
Now for thy thunder, Heau'n, now for a piece
Of thy most eminent Artillery.
Are you still silent? see, he teares their papers,
Papers, perhaps, wherein they worship him,
Giue him more titles, then they giue their God,
And yet he teares them. O vast Fauourite!
Swell'd by the airy fauour of thy Prince,
Till thou hast dimm'd the light that made thee shine,
Till Sforza's lesse then his Sanseuerin.
Tell me, good Picinino, does the Sunne
Spend all his rayes vpon one Continent?
Or haue you euer seene the partiall Heau'ns
Vpon one Aker lauish all her showres,
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Pic.
I haue not, Iuliano, but what then?
Jul.
Are you to leeke for the collection?
Why, has not Sforza made himselfe our Sunne?
Are not his fauours our refreshing showres?
Why should one sucke vp what is due to all,
Why is the Prince made a Monopoly?
Pic.
Thou mak'st me laugh at thy fond question:
What? are not Princes men, of the same mould,
Of the same passions with inferiours?
Doe not they feare, desire, and hate (as we)
And shall we onely hinder them from loue?
Coblers may haue their friends, and why not Kings?
Because th'are higher then the rest of men,
Shall they be therefore worse? and therefore want
The Benefits, because they haue the Rule?
O hard condition of Maiesty!
The former accusation of Kings
Has beene their cruelty, that they did hate
The people they should gouerne: O hard plight!
O strange peruersnesse! shall their loue at length,
Their friendship be imputed as their fault?
Would Heau'n our Sforza had no worse a crime.
Enter Sanseuerin againe with his traine of Suitors.
Iul.
You are a worthy Aduocate, and here
Comes your great Patron: goe and aske your see.
Sans.
This is a sawcy importunity:
You haue your answer.
1 Sutor.
O my gracious Lord,
Looke on these scarres I gain'd in the French warre,
Where I haue lost my Fortunes.
2 Sutor.
So haue I,
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Sans.
You haue bin drunk, and quarrell'd—must the State
Finde plaisters for your broken heads?—no more—
Nay, if you'll take no answer, I must call
Them that will driue you hence. O my tyr'd eares!
Henceforth I vow to stoppe them at your suites,
And be as Deafe, as you are Impudent.
Exit.
Iul.
Yes, doe good Æolus—how he blowes them hence!
How cleares his passage with a lusty frowne!
And yet it may be that despised wretch
Worne out of cloathes, and flesh, whom his high scorne
Would not vouchsafe once more to looke vpon,
Durst in the field doe more, then he durst see,
Then he would there vouchsafe to looke vpon.
Pic.
As if that Valour were the onely praise,
And none were to be lou'd, but they that fight:
Where were we then? what would become of vs?
Thou thinkst it Paradox, but tis most true,
A Souldier is the greatest enemy,
Of whom the Common-wealth can be afraid:
Preferre you which you please; yet vnto them
Which are the sole Physitians of State,
Who with the teeming of a pregnant braine,
Search the diseases and the remedies,
Valour is nothing but a desp'rate vice,
And there's no safety, but in cowardice.
Scena quinta.
Sforza, Ascanio, Maluezzo.Sf.
We are not man, for such an empty thing
Could not haue this solidity of ioy:
40
We are immortall, and ones happy truth,
Shall expiate for the others flattery.
But speake the manner too as well, as death.
Asc.
When now his gadding thoughts had won the world,
And Jtaly was to be taken in
But onely as an easie seat, from whence
He might deriue his further victories;
Ottoman quak'd, and 'twas in chance, if now
New Rome, should be new-French, & the proud Turke
Be brought to know what their beginnings were;
When Fortune had aduanc'd him to that height,
That growne forgetfull of a lowly tombe,
He rear'd huge Pyramides, and troubled Art
To match his fancy with magnificence
Fit for a conqu'ring builder, who had learnt
To ruine first, and then to build a City,
When Marbles were to be inrich with wounds,
And cut for their aduancement: then, Heau'ns sport,
He rais'd competitors to dare the Heau'ns:
Nor dreames his owne descent into low Earth.
Sf.
Ascanio, you make him liue too long,
Tell how he dy'd, without more circumstance.
Asc.
He went (such was his vse) to see the play
At Tennis-court, when by his trembling Queene
He sanke into halfe-death: thence he's conuey'd
To the next roome, where on a couch of straw,
As if a downe-bed were too soft for him,
Whom rottennesse attended, and the graue,
That harder lodging of Mortality,
A King, a conqu'ring, youthfull King expires.
Thrice from deaths slumbers he awak't to speake,
Thrice did he cry to heau'n, vnto deafe heau'n,
41
Sf.
I find
A certaine grumbling against Fortune here:
Which that I may whet to a liuely rage,
Repeat Maluezzo her last treachery
Against the French, and Neopolitan.
Mal.
Naples now wonne, and the vnstable French
(As if they were afraid of their owne lucke)
Ridiculously leauing what th'ad wonne;
The Deputy was Mompenieer, a man
Of an high birth, but of vnequall deeds.
For when yong Ferdinand with some few boates
(Which onely feare might make a Nauy of,
And nothing but the strength of cowardize
Could possibly iudge strong) approacht the shoare,
As if the poore Prince once more had desir'd
Onely to see his ancient gouernement,
And therefore had aduentur'd to the Sea,
The Sea was in the City, for ne're was
Such a confusion in the vulgar waues:
All cry a Ferdinand, a Ferdinand,
Eu'n those who lately banisht Ferdinand:
Part ope the gates to him, and part shut vp
The French into the Cittadells, where he
Besiegeth his once Conquerors.
Sf.
Tis true
Not the world onely, but a man's a ball,
Will Fortune neuer leaue her tossing him?
Mal.
Whether their owne neglect forc'd them to want,
Or want to yeeld, 'tis doubted: but they yeeld:
Thus as in triuiall sports we oft haue seene
After a tedious inconstancy,
The Corke returne to him that strucke it first,
So in this fatall reuolution,
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Whom she first iniur'd in the taking it.
Sf.
Who hearing this would not erect his soule
To a contempt of Fortune! that blind wretch
Whom onely sottishnesse hath Deifi'd?
Man hath a nobler Godhead in himselfe,
His vertue and his wisdome, vnto these
Bend all our knees, let vs still honour these:
And count it comfort in our lowest state,
He that is wise, would not be fortunate.
Ex.
| The tragedie of Lodovick Sforza Dvke of Millan | |