University of Virginia Library

SCEN. 2.

Enter Spiculator, Lapardas, surgeon and servant. all on a Scaffold.
Sp.
Speak much in little Sir, times pretious,

La.
I had rather little in much, lifes pretious
But I obey,
Here come I to receive my due desert;
Noble was my extraction great my estate.
Greater my pride, which to raise and maintain.
I brought Andronicus to the Empire,
But as a Mole I still wrought under ground.
Stood by as Mute said nothing and did all,
Spur'd on the posting Patriarch to odious actions,
Thus did I sence my self against fortunes spight,
If times did hold, my course I would shape so
If times did change I hop't still to escape.
But I forgot that Tyrants do intend,
To slight those stairs by which they did ascend.
I found my self deceiv'd too late at last,
Gan to unravel what before I woav'd.
Go then ye Fools idolatrize the Court;
Out-child your children fondly learn to sport,
With honours, bubble, pleasures painted feather,
That greatness onely stands on vertue built.
Tis near possest with joy, thats bought with guilt,
Now spiculator play thy part,
To Nature I a natural death do ow;
A violent death to justice I'm indebted,
Take then from me what I've no right to keep,
This wretched life.

Spi.
I have no such warrant;
I must boar out your eyes.

Lap.
Heavens forbid,

Spi.
The highest upon earth doth so command,
I'm but an instrument then do not blame
The stone that's thrown, but hand that threw it,
(Kneels and askes forgiveness.
Forgive me Sir, I pray,

Lap.
I thee forgive,
And him that doth imploy thee, may he live,
To see and sorrow for his scarlet sins.
I pardon all the world, except my self;
Fare well most glorious Sun, life of my life,
The bank of light whence Moon and Stars do Borrow,
Strange that thy Charriot should go down so soon,
And set in this my Hæmisphear at noone,
My woful life perhaps may last longer,
But Oh my dayes are altogether past,
(He binds him, bores out his eyes the surgeon claps plaisters on them.
O, O, O, O, O, O, O, O, O, O.

Spi.
Sure Sir, I'm truely sorry for your pain,

Lap.
And I'm griev'd far more that I deserved it,
(Holds his eyes in his hand.
Dear Jewels of my body!
Whom careful nature from her wardrope cloathed. O.
And coated with so many Junicles!
Was it because you shot forth wanton Glances.
Or Rivals did with envious looks behold?
Or that that you did adore the shine of gold?
That now I've lost you, or was it because.
Too many Sun-dayes I before ill spent,
That now nor sun, nor day, I shall see more?
Whatsoever was the cause this truth I find,
Heavens justice, I see clearly now I'm blinde.