University of Virginia Library

Actus. 5.

Scena. 1.

Andrugio, disguised in some long blacke Cloake.
An.
These two dayes, I haue bene in Court disguis'd:
Where I haue learnd, the scorge that is deuis'd,
For Promos faulte, he my Syster spowsed hath,
To salue hir Fame, crackt by his breache of fayth.
And shortlie he, must lose his subtyll head:
For murdring me, whome no man thinkes but dead.
His wyll, was good: and therfore beshrewe mee,
If (mou'd with ruthe) I seeke, to set him free.
But softlie, with some newes, these fellowes come:
I wyll stande close, and heare both all and some.

Scena. 2.

Enter Vlrico, Marshall.
Vl.
Marshall, heare you warrant is: with speede,
The king commaundes, that Promos you behead.

Mar.
Sir, his highnesse wyll, shalbe forthwith done.
Exit. Marshall.

Vl.
The king welnye to pardon him was wonne,
His heauy wyfe, such stormes of teares did showre,
As myght, with rueth, haue moyst a stony hart.
But Promos guylt, dyd soone this grace deuoure.
Our gratious king, before hir wretched smart,
Preferd, the helth, of this our common weale:
But see againe, to sue for him she comes,
Her ruthfull lookes, her greefe, doth force mee feele.
With hope, I must, hir sorrowes needes delay:
Tyll Promos be dispacht out of the way.

Scena. 3.

Cassandra.
Cas.
Syr Vlrico, if that my vnknowne greefe,
May moue good mindes, to helpe mee to releefe,
Or bytter syghes, of comfort cleane dismayde,
May moue a man, a shiftlesse dame to ayde:
Rue of my teares, from true intent which flowe,
Unto the king, with me, yet once more goe.
See if his grace, my husbands lyfe wyll saue,
If not, with his, death shall my corps ingraue.

Vl.
What shall I doe, her sorrowes to decreace?
Feede her, with hope: fayre dame, this mone surcease,
I see the king to grace is somewhat bent,
We once agayne thy sorrowes wyll present:
Come we wyl wayght for tyme, thy sute to show.

Cas.
Good knight, for time, doe not my sute foreslowe.
Whylst grasse, doth growe ofte sterues the seely steede.

Vl.
Feare not, your Lorde, shal not dye with such speede.

Exeunt.
Enter Andrugio.
An.
Lord God, how am I tormented in thought?
My sisters woe, such rueth in me doth graue:
As fayne I would (if ought saue death I caught)
Bewray my selfe, Lord Promos life to saue.
But lyfe is sweete, and naught but death I eye,
If that I should, my safety now disclose:
So that I chuse, of both the euels, he dye:
Time wyll appease, no dought, Cassandras woes,
And shal, I thus acquite Cassandras loue?
To worke her ioy? and shall I feare to dye?
Whylst, that she lyue, no comforte may remoue
Care from her harte, if that hir husband dye?
Then shall I stycke, to hasard lym? nay life?
To salue hir greefe, since in my cure it rests.
Nay fyrst, I wilbe spoyld, with blooddy knife,
Before, I fayle, her, plunged in distres.
Death, is but death, and all in fyne shall dye
Thus (being dead) my fame, shall liue alway:
Well, to the king, Andrugio now wyll hye,
Hap lyfe, hap death, his safety, to bewray.

Exit.

Scena. 4.

The Marshall, three or fowre with halbards, Leading Promos to execution.
Byl.
Roome friends, what meane you thus to gase on vs,
A Bylmā.
A comes behinde, makes all the sport I wus.

Pro.
Farewell, my friendes, take warning by my fall,
Disdaine my life, but lysten to my ende,
Fresh harmes, they say, the viewers so apall,
As oft they win, the wicked to amend.
I neede not heare, my faultes at large resyte,
Untimely death, doth witnesse what I was:
A wicked man, which made eache wrong seeme right,
Euen as I would, was wrested euery case.
And thus long tyme, I liu'd and rule by wyl,
Where as I lou'd, their faultes, I would not see:
Those I did hate, tenne tymes beyond there yll
I did persue, vyle wretch, with cruelty.
Yea dayly I, from bad, to worse did slyde,
The reason was, none durst, controule my lyfe:
But see the fall, of mischeeue, in his pride,
My faultes, were knowne, and loe with bloddy Axe,
The headseman strayght, my wronges with death wyll quite:
The which, in worth I take, acknowledging,
The doome, was geuen, on cause, and not on spyte,
Wishing my ende, might serue for a warning.
For such as rule, and make their will a lawe,
If to such good, my faynting tale might tend,
Wretched Promos, the same would lenger draw:
But if that wordes preuayle, my wofull ende
From my huge faultes, then tenne times more wyll warne.
Forgeuenesse now, of all the world I craue,
Therewith that you, in zealous prayer, wyll
Beseeche of God, that I the grace may haue:
At latter gaspe, the feare of death to kyll.

Mar.
Forwards my Lord, me thinkes you fayntly goe.

Pro.
O syr, in my case, your selfe would be as slowe.

Scena. 5.

Enter Cassandra, Polina, and one mayde.
Cas.
Aye me, alas: my hope is vntimely,
Whether goes my good Lord?

Pro.
Sweete wife, to dye.

Cas.
O wretched wench, where may I first complayne?
When heauen, and earth, agrees vpon my payne?

Pro.
This mone good wife, for Chrystes sake, forsake:
I late resolu'd, through feare of death, now quake.
Not so much, for my haynous sinnes forepast:
As for the greefe that present thou dost tast.

Cas.
Nay, I vile wretch, should most agreeued be,
Before thy time, thy death which hastened haue:
But (O swete husband) my fault forgeue mee.
And for amends, Ile helpe to fyll thy graue:

Pro.
Forgeue thee, ah: nay, for my soules releefe,
Forget sweete wyfe, this thy most guyltles greefe.

Mar.
My Lord Promos, these playntes, but moue hir mone,
And your more greefe, it is best you ware gone:
Good Maddame way, by lawe, your Lord doth dye,
Wherefore make vertue of necessity:
Delay, but workes your sorrowes, and our blames,
So that now, to the comfort of these dames:
And your wisdome, inforced, we leaue you:
My Lord Promos, byd your wife and friends adew.

Pro.
Farewell, farewell, be of good cheare deare wyfe:
With ioy for woe, I shall exchange this life.
Andrugios death, Polina forgeue mee:

Poli.
I doe, and pray the Lord, to releeue yee.

Cas.
Yet ere we part, sweete husband let vs kis,
O, at his lyppes, why fayleth not my breath?

Pro.
Leaue mone, swete wife, I doe deserue this death.
Farewell, farewell.

They all depart, saue Polina, Cassandra, and her vvoman.
Cas.
My louing Lorde, farewell,
I hope ere long, my soule with thine shall dwell.

Po.
Now, good Madame, leaue of this bootelesse griefe.

Cas.
O Polina, sorrowe is my reliefe.
Wherfore, sweete wenche, helpe me to rue my woe,
With me vyle wretche, thy bytter plaintes bestowe:
To hasten lyngring death, who wanteth might:
I see, alone, to sley, the wretched wight.

Po.
Nay, first powre foorth your playnts, to the powers Diuine,
When hate, doth clowde, all worldly grace, whose mercies styll do shine.

Cas.
The Song of Cassandra.

Enter Ganio sometime Andrugios Boye.
Ga.
O sweete newes, for Polina and Cassandra.
Andrugio lyues:

Po.
What doth poore Ganio saye?

Ga.
Andrugio lyues: and Promos is repriu'd.

Cas.
Uaine is thy hope, I sawe Andrugio dead.

Ga.
Well, then from death, he is againe reuyu'd.
Euen nowe, I sawe him, in the market stead.

Po.
His wordes are straunge.

Cas.
Too sweete, God wot, for true.

Ga.
I praye you, who are these here in your view?

Cas.
The King.

Ga.
Who more?

Po.
O, I see Andrugio.

Cas.
And I my Lorde Promos, adue sorrowe.

Enter the King, Andrugio, Promos, Ulrico, the Marshall.
Po.
My good Andrugio?

An.
My sweete Polina:

Cas.
Lyues Andrugio, welcome sweete brother.

An.
Cassandra?

Cas.
I.

An.
Howe fare, my deare Syster?

King.
Andrugio, you shall haue more leysure,
To greete one another: it is our pleasure,
That you forthwith, your Fortunes here declare,
And by what meanes, you thus preserued weare.

An.
My faull, through loue, and iudgement for my faulte.
Lorde Promos wronges, vnto my Sister done.
My death supposde, dreade King, were vaine to tell.
Cassandra heare, those dealinges all hath showne.
The rest are these.
When I should dye, the Gayler mou'd to ruth,
Declard to mee, what Promos pleasure was:
Amazde wherat, I tolde him all the trueth,
What, betwene Cassandra, and him dyd passe.
He much agrieu'd, Lorde Promos guylt to heare,
Was verie lothe, mee (wofull man) to harme:
At length, iust God, to set me (wretched) cleare,
With this defence, his wylling minds dyd arme.
Two dayes afore, to death, were diuers done,
For seuerall faultes, by them committed:
So that of them, he tooke the head from one,
And to Cassandra, the same presented:
Affirming it, to be hir brothers head.
Which done, by night, he sent me post away,
None but supposed, that I in deede was dead:
When as in trueth, in vncouth hauntes I laye.
In fine, a Clowne, came peaking through the wood,
Wherin I lyu'd, your Graces being here:
And Promos death, by whome I vnderstood,
Glad of which newes, howe so I lyud in feare.
I ventured to see his wretched fall:
To free suspect, yet straunger lyke arayde,
I hether came: but loe, the inwarde thrall
Of Cassandra, the hate, so sore dismayde.
Which I conceyued agaynst my brother Promos,
That loe, I chews'd, to yeeld my selfe to death,
To set him free: for otherwyse I knew,
His death ere long, would sure haue stopt her breath.
Loe gratious king, in breefe I here haue showne,
Such aduentures, as wretched I haue past:
Beseeching you with grace to thinke vpon,
The wight that wayles, his follyes at the last.

King.
A strange discourse, as straungely come to light,
Gods pleasure is, that thou should'st pardoned be:
To salue the fault, thou with Polina mad'st,
But marry her, and heare I set thee free.

An.
Most gratious Prince, thereto I gladly gree:

Poli.
Polina, the happiest newes of all for thee.

Cas.
Most gratious King, with these my ioye to match,
Uouchsafe, to geue my dampned husbande lyfe.

King.
If I doo so, let him thanke thee his Wife:
Cassandra, I haue noted thy distresse,
Thy vertues eke, from first, vnto the last:
And glad I am, without offence it lyes,
In me to ease, thy griefe, and heauines.
Andrugio sau'd, the iuell of thy ioye,
And for thy sake, I pardon Promos faulte.
Yea let them both, thy vertues rare commende:
In that their woes, with this delyght doth ende.

Company.
God preserue your Maiestie.

Pro.
Cassandra, howe shall I discharge thy due?

Cas.
I dyd, but what a Wife, shoulde do for you.

King.
Well, since all partes are pleased, as they woulde,
Before I parte, yet Promos, this to thee:
Henceforth, forethinke, of thy forepassed faultes,
And measure Grace, with Iustice euermore.
Unto the poore, haue euermore an eye,
And let not might, out countenaunce their right:
Thy Officers, trust not in euery tale.
In chiefe, when they are meanes, in strifes and sutes,
Though thou be iust, yet coyne maye them corrupt.
And if by them, thou dost vniustice showe,
Tys thou shalt beare, the burden of their faultes.
Be louing to good Cassandra, thy Wife:
And friendlie to thy brother Andrugio,
Whome I commaund, as faythfull for to be
To thee, as beseemes the duety of a brother.
And now agayne, thy gouernment receyue,
Inioye if so, as thou in Iustice ioye.
If thou be wyse, thy fall maye make thee ryse.
The lost sheepe founde, for ioye, the feast was made.
Well, here an ende, of my aduise I make,
As I haue sayde, be good vnto the poore,
And Iustice ioyne, with mercie enermore.

Pro.
Most gratious King, I wyll not fayle my best,
In these preceptes, to followe your beheast.