University of Virginia Library

Scæna tertia.

Enter Chaves, Roderiguez, and Boy.
Cha.
Hast thou the Song? Boy?

Boy.
Yes, Sir.

Cha.
Are the Musitians ready?

Boy.
They expect behind yon pillar.

Cha.
But art thou sure this is her window?

Rod.
The same, ne're feare, we shall have audience.

Boy
sings.

Rod.
So now depart, and charge the Musitians they say nothing.

Boy.
I will Signior.

Exit.
Rod.
The window is opened, friend, list who speaks.

Mariana and Catalina, out at the window
Mar.
I marvail, Catalina, who bestowed
This Musick on us; it was good and sweet.

Cat.
Some one, that dog'd you home from Alvarado's,
Some Amorado.

Rod.
Speak Sir, now or never.

Cha.
All peace content and joy attend you Ladies.

Mar.
What man art thou, that when Nights Curtain's drawn,
And with her sable mantle vails the skies,
Dar'st venture on our secrets?

Cha.
One, you promis'd
When for your sake I sav'd Picarro's life,
To keep in memory.

Mar.
Sir, if you are he,
I am obliged, I confess, to honour
Your nobleness, but these untimely houres
Admit no conference: for your Musick, Sir,
We give you thanks; so much I love you, that
I'll not endanger you, if you be seen,
You run your lifes dire hazard, Sir, good night,
Fair thoughts attend you.

Cha.
Stay! for Loves sake, were there
Dangers as thick here, as there's stars above us,
I would contemn them all; if death it self
Should here incounter me, I'ld scorn the fury:
Tell him his hand had here no power; your presence
Makes men immortall.

Mar.
Cause you shall not, Sir,
Condemn me of discourtesie; I'll stay,
But to your purpose, let me know it briefly;
Or I must be unmannerly.

Cha.
Why then,
In brief I love you, and desire your love.

Mar.
And is this all, good night!—

Cat.
Hear him out, Mistress, he's an honest Gentleman,
I know by's words;

Cha.
My zeal could tell you, Lady,
That yout are fair; you know it; that your eyes.
Clothe night in days robes, and eclipse the stars
With their bright lustre; that you are the modell
Of Natures artifice; her true Idea,
In whose brow Art and Beauty wedded meet,
But these, dear Mariana, and the like
Pedantick terms, I leave to those whose loves
Are in their lips; I'll be as plain in speech,
As zealous in respects; my deeds shall speak
My Love no Changeling

Mar.
But I cannot, Sir,
Nor must not love you; many one would feed
Your flames with frustrate species to deride
Your passions, but I do carry with me
More honest thoughts: as you have been, I'll be
Brief: save your labour Signior, they are fruitless,
You sing to th'deaf, and plough the sandy shore,
I must not love you.

Cha.
I'm oblig'd to you!
'Tis well and nobly done to put an end
To my hot tortures, view this blade, the same
Which for your sake I did restrain from shedding
Picarro's blood for better ends; shall now
(goes to stab himself.)
In bloody Characters write me thy Martyr.

Rod.
Hold! hold! for heav'ns sake; hold!—
What mean you Chaves?

Cha.
Nothing, but to open
A vein that's stopt; 'tis good for me to bleed:
My sword will be a good Phlebotomist,
I'm sick of th'Plurify; a burning feaver!
'Tis better once to die, then thus to live
In lingring flames; and piece-meal crumble: ha!
Be thou my friend; and since my Life cannot,
Let death now make me pittied: Let me die!

Mar.
You're a faint hearted Soldier; what dasht
At first repulse? admit I could afford
You heart-room in my breast: you might well think
Me very light, should I at once be wonn
Without experience of your Loyalty:
Besides, our Countries use permits not Children
To choose their husbands: 'Tis my Fathers care,
Get his consent, and peradventure I
May yeild to love you.

Cat.
Do sweet Mistress, he's
A very honest man: I'd take his word.

Cha.
Look! how the enamour'd air hangs o're her lips
To suck a blessing from them? I can think
Now 'twas no fable, that bold Boreas
Rapt fair Orithya, since I see him haste
To ravish thee of that too pretious breath,
Thy words expire with; it will make his own
Sweeter then Syrian winds, when nought but Myrrhe
And Bysse perfume them.

Mar.
You're too hasty Sir.
It is impossible that I should love you,
I am contracted.

Cha.
Yet 'tis in your power
To love your servant.

Mar.
If Anatomists
Tell truth, that say, I'th' Center of our hearts
There is a little Concave, where resides,
Our best affections; then your Augury
Must needs be truth, for all the love lies there,
Is to anothers worth engag'd.

Cha.
Make me
But of your privy Councell, pray reveal him.

Mar.
Then know, since first I saw you, I have been
(The night will hide my blushing to your face)
A true devotarist to your lovely vertues;
Deride me not, dear Signior.

Cha.
I am
Ravisht beyond my hopes, my heart's too narrow,
Too strait-lac'd for th'exuberance of my joy.

Enter Balthasar.
Balt.
This is the house: now Gaspar I shall see
Thy truth, I heare some mutt'ring.—

Mar.
Walk round the house, my maid shall let you in.

Bal.
'Tis she, I hear her voyce, and here he comes.
Sir, stay, you must not passe so.

Rod.
What art thou?
That thus presum'st to over-hear our secrets,
And rashly tempt thy death.

Bal.
I am a man,
Thy equall every way.

Rod.
About your businesse,

Cha.
Sirrah, be packing, or I'll send you hence.

Balt.
Were you encompass'd with hot lightning, arm'd
With Corslets made of Dragons maile, your breath
As poysonous as a Vipers, or a Toads,
Yet I alone would dare t'encounter you.

Rod.
You're very valiant: Frenzy prompts you thus,
Or else tis some fat Fleming, who being drunk,
Hath lost his way to th'Brothell, and doth think
To find his drab here: Friend, you've lost your way:
Be wise, and save your carcasse by a retreat:
You I walk, nay make a leg, and thank me too
For letting you to passe, or I shall teach
Your noll more manners.

Bal.
Teach thy selfe, false man,
More honesty: which of you is it that
Thus Courts my Mariana? cause to him,
I only speak.

Cha.
'Tis I.

Bal.
Then let me tell you:
You injure one, that never injur'd you:
She's mine, betroth'd to me:

Cha.
I'm sorry 'twas
My hapless fate to meet you in this place,
I shall but poast you through the Avernal Lakes
On Ambassy to Pluto: and desire
Those Deities to fit you with a Mistress:
You'll have her forcibly, although you see
She cannot love you? gentle friend, put up!
This is a glorious quarrel, every drop
Of blood, that's spilt, will have a Crown beyond
The palm of Martyrs! For my Mistress? come!
Address your self to prayers first.

(Drawes.)
Balt.
Prithee stay:
Thou seem'st a person qualifi'd, before
We fight and die (for that one of's must do)
Think what unworthy and inhuman cause
You stand to justifie with blood: her Father
Hath giv'n her me, before whole Quires of Saints,
(Heav'ns hierarchy) we were contracted: do not,
Blinded with lust, run headlong to a sin,
So foul and horrid: hazard not your souls
Lasting salvation in a quarrel, so
Unjust on thy part: say, 't should be my fate
(As it may be) to kill you: what a mass
Of endless woe thou pluckst upon thy head?
Hadst thou no other crimes to charge thy soul,
Think what a monstrous, and ignoble sin
Is supplantation in this kind of wrong:
Above Astræa's Laws? A Christian, Sir,
(As you should be) at naming this would have
A frigid palzy in his veins: pray, tell me,
Feel you no Earthquake in you?

Cha.
Thus, and thus
I'll Catechize you.

(Stabs him)
Bal.
Oh!

(falls)
Rod.
So preach in hell:
We have full entrance now, but least the noyse
Disturb the house, we'd best depart, and come
When the next night in favour to us shrowds
Sleeping Olympus in her dusky clouds.

Cha.
I do approve your counsell:—

Exeunt.
Balthazar rises up.
Bal.
So! they are gon: I'm hurt, my loss of blood
Makes my legs falter: Fool, to shed a drop
In an effeminate quarrel: can the name
Of woman pass without fell execrations
Through these parcht lips? henceforth I will evade them,
As the infectious scum of pestilence:
To Troy once famous one base Helen brought
A finall ruine: fair Persepolis
Had still stood Asia's glory, had not Thaïs
(That obscæne Thaïs) by her witchcraft made
Fond Alexander to consume't by fire:
Each woman is a plague: I justly may
Curse their whole sex, since Mariana's false.
I must be silent.

Enter Gaspar.
Gasp.
Balthazar?

Bal.
Who art thou?

Gasp.
'Tis I, your servant Gaspar! are my words
Not truth: have you not met with them: Alas!
I fear you're wounded: Sir, base villains!—

Bal.
Yes doubly Gaspar, for my bodies harms
Surgeons may cure them: but the wounds my mind
Suffers, 's past help of plaisters: Oh! I bleed:
These are but scratches, here's a wound indeed.

Gasp.
Faith! think not on it, Sir, she may be honest,
Though she hath suitors: women will delight
In the plurality of servants.

Bal.
But
That she who stood the Goddess of my love,
Whose truth should Angels with me 've sought to blast,
I should have judg'd them lyars: should be thus
Inconstant, false: this puts me quite beyond
The confines of all reason!

Gasp.
Good Sir! patience.

Bal.
Patience! what's that? pray carry me to some
Infected Pesthouse, or foul Hospitall,
Where all diseases flourish: where no sound
Person can enter, but he must return
Full fraught with all contagions: there I'll steal
From one a plague-sore; rob another of
His purple spots, this of a feaver, till
I have ingross'd all maladies, that carrie
A spreading rancour with them, and that have
Death in their bosomes: then I'll straitway come,
And keep society with none, but women:
Til the whole sex have shar'd of death, and those
(For some will live) that do remain to keep
Earths store alive, be so infected, that
Their future issue be all monstrous: Tell me,
Should I not fit her then for this, and all
That bear the name of women?

Gas.
Sir, you grow
Outragious in your passion; your blood
Carries a fervor, that won't let this passe
Without revenge; I'll work the means, if you
Have heart to act it.

Bal.
Wilt thou doe't?

Gas.
Ne're fear't:
Go to your lodging, dress your wounds, you may
Inform her Father at your leasure.

Bal.
Well,
I'll rest upon thy care, and make my hand
In thanks retaliate thy just deserts.

Exit.
Gas.
O! that I could but borrow for this instant,
A vipers breath to blast thee, but 'tis well,
Vines clip not Elms for nothing, I must twine
About them subtly, till they kiss the earth,
Or else my ends will have abortive birth.

Exit.