 | Claracilla |  |
Actus Secundus.
Enter Manlius, Tullius and Dion.Man.
Strip those slaves, and to the banke chaine the Cowards
Slavery, 'tis no new thing to such as feare,
And Tullus loose that Rhodian on the Starboard banke;
Me thought that fellow look'd as if he were
Not justly yoak'd with misery, in the heate
Of the fight I saw him shake his chaine, like
A fierce Dog held from the Chace.
Tul.
Sir.
Man.
Vrge me no more, Iustice as well as blood
Has an interest in the revenge I take,
And that makes it healthy, tho it may be
That which anger hunts would taste as sweete.
Enter Philemon.
Tul.
Sir your pardon, tis my ignorance in the cause
Of your displeasure made me mediate for them.
Man.
And because Tullius shall not thinke that Manlius
Would in misery expect, the compassion
That he would not give, you shall know why.
I refuse these my Country men in misery
The mercy I found from thee in mine.
Sir not that I doubt you have one; but the desire
To know it makes me beg you would relate
The cause, Tullius can be but faithfull
When he has heard it, and that I hope is
Not to be question'd now.
Man.
Know then in that day when treason flew above
Iustice, and false Silvander enrich'd by his masters trust
Out-vyd the noble King with his owne bounty
Who too late found his love had not bred a friend
But begot a Traytor, 'twas upon that day
The brave Thisander fell, the interest I had in this fault
Heaven I hope hath pardon'd as well as punish'd;
But to be short, our party having gain'd the day,
The crowne, and beautie that attended it,
The faire Claracilla fell into the hands
Of false Silvander, where her vertues by daily seeing
Them, dispersd the Clowd ambition had set betwixt
My loyalty and me, and then too late
I repented what I had done, yet not willing
To despaire before I had attempted something;
I undertooke an act, which if heaven had smil'd on
Might have redeem'd my forfeit honour, 'twas
To heale the wounds I made with the blood of
The surpriz'd Traytor, whose fall I had decreed
In the midst of all these false glories.
Tul.
How came it justice was so absent to her owne cause.
Man.
His sinnes it seemes were not ripe, nor this pument.
That heaven design'd him, which by this I hope
Is fully paid, but the particuler, one night.
Being in the Princesse chamber contriving
Her escape, which we resolv'd should be e're
I gave the blow, a guard seiz'd me and no cause given
I was sent to my ruine as he design'd
There your gratitude preserv'd me afterwards
Now has given into my power urg'd the fust-burnt Traytor
To a rape upon the Princesse, & with a forc'd marriage.
Counseld him to confirme his title, and blew in his
Eare that there was love betwixt the princesse and me
Which if his care remov'd not, would prove
A hindrance to his designe, and from this
Grow this necessitie, which made me receive
The command my better fortunes gave your merit;
Now be you Iudge whether or no they see Iustice
In this punishment.
Tul.
'Tis visible they bow under a weight
That justice hath laid upon them, and my gally
Is both a prison and Sanctuary.
Phi.
Is this Manlius, and this the cause of his disgrace.
Man
But see the slave I sent for, Tullius
Was he bought or taken?
Tul.
'Tis one of that Gang defended the Rhodian
When we lost so many men in fight.
Man.
I remember the story, but how came it
He was left when you sold the rest.
Tul.
They did not like the price, besides he was dogged
And that made me put him to the Oare.
Man.
Of what country art thou, and thy name?
Phi.
Of no country, nor no name in Chaines;
Slave—is a being—that what has beene, is
Of no force against, else my name and country
Are not thinges to be asham'd of.
Man.
Yes if you thinke they have power to gaine your freedome
Y'are too blame to keepe them hid.
Phi.
I have vow'd not to discover till I have my freedome, and
I will not.
Why so doggedly?
Phi.
Why not, what is there in my fortune that needs feare
A worse condition, or what danger in a slave
Worth your consideration what he saies, if you dare
Venture a good deede give me credit for one,
And set me free.
Man.
No, no, we must not be forc'd to a benefit;
Tullius command thy Gally to put from shore
And lye loose to night to be ready if there be
Occasion offerd, we will stay a shore to night
And expect what issue this dayes trouble hath.
Exit.
Phi.
Yes I was of the Rodian gang, and chiefe
Tho you know it not, and had our seconds beene men
Of soules and not made up of feares, might have
Playd your parts now, to what a misery of condition
I am falne; the last Mart because I was wounded
No body would buy me, the soule of a slave
In their esteeme not weighing downe his limbes;
Yee gods either send me libertie, or take
Your gifts againe, honour, and her issue courage;
Iustice! faithfulnesse are of no use to me,
Who would be judg'd by a slave, courage in chaines
What can it hurt, or to be faithfull of what use
When we are not trusted? Oh my fate, why was
I borne free? Had I beene bred a slave I
Could have sung in my chaines, nay to have perish'd
In them had beene dying in my calling, but to fall
From greatnesse, and without a fault be punishd
With the guilty, nay where the guilty scape.
False Rhodes my curse kindle a fire within thee,
The freedome that my soule brought thither threw me
Into her dangers, which their cowardise
Had made such certaine ruine in their apprehension
That not one amongst them had man enough
To looke upon their feares, I then a God was held
Exit.
Enter Selucus solus.
Sel.
Yee gods by what waves or markes should men
Follow what is good, when vertue her selfe
Does not alwayes keepe one path, when Claracilla
Which has all I know of vertue, shall quit
The godlike attribute of truth, and the guard
Which innocence secures her from impious men with,
And flye for safetie to an excuse, she denyd
My visit at the price of a lye, and at
That rate of sinne bought a strangers company;
Olinda assures me hee's at this time with her:
But why doe I thus without danger barke
Against him, and let this tree without a roote thus lye
That can beare me no more fruit stand in my prospect?
It shall not, I will see her, and since she can
So put off her honour, as to lye for one man,
Who knowes but she may lie with more?
Exit.
Enter Melintus and Claracilla.
Mel.
You have now heard all the passages of my life
Since that sad day we parted to this happy houre
Which if poore Philemon had liv'd to see
How happy had we three beene.
Cla.
Have you not heard of him, since his losse at Rhodes?
Doe you beleeve him dead?
Mel.
My love makes me beleeve what I feare, for he
Had many wounds, besides I know his ransome
Would have pleasd the Conqueror better then his bond
For they were Pirats, but no more of this
Sad subject now.
Cla.
Oh Melintus grow not weary of mentioning a friend,
Tho it be sad 'tis joy, and let that beare
The weight, had Philemon liv'd to have seene me
And Melintus lift, we should have buried our dayes
Vnmention'd, Philemon to his friend a lambe
And in such softnesse he alwayes wore his Lyons heart;
Philemon whose youth had growth with us, a plant
By the same hand set, a flower from our owne stocke;
And all his sweetnesse a kin to us, and we
Ought to be ally'd to his misfortunes, but why doe I
Teach Melintus, tis boldly done to give lawes to him
That is such a master in the rights of friendship.
She weepes.
Mel.
To let you see I love Philemon, I doe not grudge
Him that precious dew, and gentle Claracilla,
Witnesse my soule hath one consent with yours,
See I can beare you company in your owne Sex.
Cla.
Oh yee gods he weepes; Melintus weepes
What agonie must this noble youth feele
When his soule sweats such drops, pardon me for
Thus stirring thy griefe.
Mel.
Doe not thinke I left the subject because
I was weary of the discourse, or could
Enough mention Philemon that durst be my friend
When 'twas certaine ruine, and now hee's dead,
I breake no trust to tell you the cause was a greater
Tie then any effect it had, know Philemon
Was in love with Claracilla, and 'twas with Claracilla.
And not himselfe, for when by my trust he
Found your softnesse and receiv'd impression
From my constant love, and you were pleas'd to call me
Your Melintus, I became his too, and to serve us
In our wishes was all the heaven he aym'd at:
And now my soule either you must confesse me
Vnworthy or else grant such daring courage
And such fearefull love as Philemon commanded
Could never sinke from the soule of Melintus.
Cla.
Since Melintus hath begun, take my confession too;
Rewards of friendship for the noble youth,
For when 'twas beyond my power to cure, it had
Beene crueltie to have inquir'd the paine, and therefore
Would not see what I pittied, and now
You have all the secrets of my heart, those of joy
This friendship multiplies, and those of griefe
Thus thou divid'st thy paine—
Enter Olinda.
Mel.
Oh lay thy whole weight here.
Olin.
Madam, Selucus upon earnest businesse,
As he pretends, will see you.
Enter Selucus.
Cla.
How! will see me, tell him—
Sel.
Nothing, he knowes too much Madam,
Tho when my anger, which envie and your cause
Begot, was growne to such a destructive height
That I could not rule it, till it had found
My owne ruine in your frowne, yet a Souldiers
Envie is no sin, nor ought his anger
Be punish'd by his friends, when he appeares
Not in love with his fault, nor seekes to justifie it.
This day I beg leave to crave your pardon
For my offence, you refus'd my visit, and made
An excuse to admit this; Madam 'twill be no glory
To you, that you could withstand these seiges, which
Silvander and my selfe I aid against you
By many services when it shall be knowne
You were o'recomaby a single one, and yeelded
At first sight.
Cla.
Selucus when I take you for my friend Ile
Take your counsel, and not till then for the
Services you urge they have beene alwayes drest
So in commands that they appear'd unbecomming.
Sel.
Madam, you did not looke with equall eyes
Vpon them, else their passion would have appeard
Their greatest beauty, and I never spoke
Cla.
The love of Subjects is the reward of duty,
And those whom we pay we doe not thanke;
The hireling ought to serve.
Sel.
Madam, you speake as if I serv'd for bread,
And forget that Subjects are heavens servants,
And 'tis the gods that appoint us Kings, and I
Am doom'd to it, not want that makes me weare
The livery of subject, which you are not exempt from;
But I wonder what mighty Prince this is
That thus vouchsafes to hide himselfe.
Cla.
This is insolence here.
Mel.
Your pardon Madam tis my Q. your Sex cannot strike.
And 'twas the respect which this place claimes made me
Stand thus long his marke, now to you who this
Second time with scorne lookes upon my temper,
When a calme has bid it, know in the best
Of all thy ill acts thy love, thou art a slave
That durst hope this Princesse would be food for servants;
And tho thy fawning on thy masters feet
Have beene cherish'd so that thou hast left
Their crummes there, and art now set by him
Snatching at his owne dish.
Sel.
This to me.
Mel.
Yes to thee, which hast now begun thy lap
Which I prophesie will end at his throate,
Nor are such dogs strange in this state, remember
Yesterday when one of that hated breed
Fell unpittied.
Sel
Sure you doe take me for a coward, you durst not
Vrge me thus else.
Mel.
No Sir that would secure you, nor doe I beleeve
Tho you have many faults, coward any of them.
Sel.
Ile waite you in the garden.
Exit.
Ile follow you—
Madam let not this threatned storme fright you,
Your interest lies in the securitie
Of my innocence which cannot fall here,
Cla.
Oh that Melintus would heare my reasons
For what I say, e're accuse me for having
Too much woman in my suite, and then
I would tell him he must not fight, at least not now.
Mel.
Not fight? my honour is concern'd.
Cla.
And my honour is concern'd 'twill looke like
Fighting for me, I hope Melintus will not
Set that at stake against opinion, especially
When his courage is so farre from being a question
It is become a Proverbe, besides tho yee conquer
Yee are lost, you see his interest in my father
Makes him not looke with justice on your merits,
And to kill his creature may threaten your owne ruine
But these arguments have their period in feares still,
And therefore Ile not urge the reasons they bring
As of force against the danger that honour threatens.
Mel.
And those that come not so attended are commands
To Melintus who covets onely to keepe his beauties
That you may not be put to make excuses for your love.
Cla.
Then gently thus let me prevaile with you
To appoint a further day to determine this angry question,
Whilst I acquaint my father with his ambitious hopes
Which he not dreames are levell'd at me, and
Consequently the Crowne, Ile tell him of
His insolence here, and at that battaile, then urge
The late treason and bid him call to minde
The dangers that Traytors hopes threaten
Which sprung from this roote, I know 'twill startle
His soule, and if it faile, to ruine him,
Yet 'twill take the edge o'the Kings faith off
Looke upon his growing greatnesse, and when
He is thus shooke, thus parted from the Cedar
That shelters him, then let thy justice power
A storme upon his head, and now by the powre
Melintus hath given me, I command him deliver
His honour for a time into my protection;
This (if I have not appeard too carelesse
Of mine owne) you cannot deny me.
Mel.
You have o'recome me, take my honour, which
I have preserv'd through thousand hazzards
I freely give it to you, and now rest
Secure, I am yours for ever, for my love
And honour being gone, what rests it fit for now,
I will not meete this angry man, his insolence
Shall have justice on her sides and I will give
Him cause to scorne me.
Cla.
Melintus shootes his presents, and then they wound,
Not oblige, courtesies done unwillingly
Is throwing the frozen into the fire, where
Too much heate kills the charitie, and proves
But altering, not rescuing the danger.
Mel.
Pardon deerest if you finde me unvers'd
In the way that leades to dishonour, for tho
I submit to your reason, yet Selucus
Nor the world to whom he will barely tell
The thought will not know what argument
With-held me.
Cla.
Pray obey me without dispute
And I hope this clowd is all that is left
Of many that lowr'd upon our ioyes, and we
Shall see a cleare evening yet to crowne our wishes fare well
Exit.
Enter Selucus.
Sel.
Hence love, and thy pale dew be gone,
Love cannot now reach my ends, tho at first
I stalk'd with it, 'twas indeede a proper nurse
And rock'd the cradle, whil'st my designes were young,
But now they walke alone, waited on by resolutions
And confident of their strength: I neede not thy sucke
Nor milky miracles to confirme my faith
Nor ought they meant tho ill be layd to me
For to dare, speakes the great soule, not the successe,
For Prophets well seene in things to come
Have bin themselves o'retaken with an unknown doom
But stay, the businesse now in hand requires
My being present here—'are something slow
Enter Melintus.
In justifying, tho quicke in doing injuries,
Sure you beleeve me, the dog you cal'd me;
You would not have made me waite thus else.
Mel.
'Tis true, injuries are things I am slow
To justifie as commit, they are commonly
The children of choller, and such bastard issue
Shames the parents, and if through weakenesse
At any time I get them, I hide them
If I can with satisfaction.
Sel.
Words are too neere a kin to heale words, your sword.
Hath a more certaine cure; and I repaire to that,
Draw; doe yee not understand the word? draw.
Mel.
First heare me, that I came uninvited
And now am going without taking leave,
Shewes 'twas choise put me upon these hazards
Not necessitie, and that I dare fight
I have it written in my face, here under
My enemies hand to witnesse, and such torne ensignes
Till the bearer fled no dangers let that satisfie
'Tis not feare bindes my hands, & yet I will not fight.
Sel.
'Twas the cause I see gave you fire, and I
Twice bid draw his sword, which doe, or Ile kill thee.
Mel.
I will not fight.
Sel.
You will not fight, by my life Ile kill thee then.
Mel.
When I will not fight any one may doe it,
But when I will you cannot, and once agen
I tell thee I will not fight, nor dar'st thou kill me.
Sel.
Not dare! Why what hast thou about thee that
Can protect thee from the justice that this brings.
Mel.
Thou hast about thee that protects me, and the
I hate thee, yet I can be just.
Sel.
Doe me justice and not speake it, and if that she
Be in thy power, draw her sword, 'tis her proper
Embleme, or by my anger thou art lost, nor shall
This neare kinde of Coward save thee, turne and doe not
Tempt me, turne I say, or by him that rules
The day Ile kill thy fame too, with a cowards wound in thy backe.
Mel.
Thou dar'st not doe it, I know thou wilt not
Take so little for thy honour, it cost thee too deare
To be sold so cheape, to take a naked life
That's undefended fort, thou seest I am
Resolv'd not to fight to day, so bound by resolution
That coward could not loose it, therefore in vaine
Thou temptst me.
Sel.
Why the devill did you take this resolution
Against me that long to fight with thee.
Mel.
'Tis but for a time,
Sel.
Will you then hereafter.
Mel.
Yes by all my hopes, and nothing but this
Resolution then in thee shall protect one of us
Sel.
Till this fit be over then, Ile leave you.
Exit.
Mel.
'Tis strange having both one businesse, our way
Should lye so severall, Claracilla thy commands
Can put me into any forme that can bow me thus.
Exit.
Sel,
Was the Prince in the garden when you left him
Car.
Yes my Lord and he had newly parted
With the King, hee's this morning to make his visit
To the Princesse, your Lordship is appointed by the King
To accompany him.
Sel.
You saw not Olinda since.
Car.
No my Lord.
Sel.
Goe finde her, and tell her of this visit,
Bid her single her selfe from the company
Tell her I must speake with her this morning,
Exit Carillus.
Claracilla will thinke me very bold
To dare thus soone to presse into her presence,
But no matter, her thoughts have now no power
To punish me that have set my selfe free:
Nor will I agen stand in awe of ought
But what power that does create the cause
As well as beget the feare, that power that made
Fate faile, and yet his servant; there I will
Pay all I have for feare, here to tremble
Is to feare the Idoll I my selfe have made.
Exit.
Enter Claracilla, and Olinda.
Ol.
Madam the Prince without attended with
Selucus desires to kisse your hand.
Cla.
Waite him in, this Prince is in report a man
Of noble soule I guesse his businesse, and
Must with paine impose, that which will sound
What depth of honour is in him—he comes.
Enter Appius and Selucus.
Ap.
Now this storme is blowne over, which thus long
In clouds has hid your vertues, and you
Begin to breake like your selfe to us Appius is come
Tho unconfident in the successe labouring
The services of his life, leave to waite
Vpon your happy dayes.
Cle.
Noble Prince,
Be pleas'd to lend me so much favour as
To heare a suite that I must blushing make
E're you proceede, and to your owne eare onely,
And if you please retire with me I shall
Acquaint you with it.
Ap.
Command me Madam.
Exit.
Sel.
Olinda a word with you.
Ol.
This way then.
Exit.
| Claracilla | |