University of Virginia Library

The first ACT.

After several Shouts and Noises without, Enter Isabella, Julia, Portia, as from their Beds.
Isa.
Oh Heavens! what means these sad distracted cryes,
This confus'd noise, which through the Palace flyes,
And puts a horrour on the face of night,
Dreadful to th'Ears, as visions to the sight?

Jul.
The City hath receiv'd some strange alarms;
For in the Streets they call, to Arms! to Arms!
The Palace ecchos with a dreadful sound,
And Martial noises from the Streets rebound.

Isab.
Portia, Enquire the news!—

Por.
Madam, I go;
And yet I dread to ask:—
Exit. Por.

Jul.
And I to know.

Isab.
What can w'expect? The Enemy is come;
Although last night some said he was at Rome.
I see the slave, who the false news did bring,
Came with those tydings to betray the King.
When once a shaking Monarchy declines,
Each thing grows bold, and to its sall combines.

Jul.
Oh Heav'ns! How strange a dream I had to night!
Aside.
Visions of glory walk'd before my sight;
Crowns, Cupids, Bowers, and in my pleasing Trance,
I thought my self no less, then Queen of France.
What the presage should mean I feign would know,
And yet I dare not let the secret go.

Isab.
Do's haughty Charles his anger still retain,
Aside.
To come from France with Armies in his Train;
To ruine Naples, and usurp the Crown;
'Cause his feign'd passion I did once disown?
I'le make him know by sad experience too,
What a wrong'd Princess in dispair dare do!
Perhaps he thinks I am grown humbler since,—
Th'afflicted Widow of a murder'd Prince:
But the proud King shall find when 'tis too late,
My mind hath Grandeur, much above my state.
Since Darts of beauty could not wound his pride,
Those darts shall now with daggers be supply'd.

Jul.
These sad confusions will disturb I fear,
Our Royal stranger drove by Tempests here,
The distress'd Cyprian Queen, who will conclude,
By her hard fortunes she is still pursued;
That she in vain took refuge from the Winds,
Whilst in the Port she a new Tempest finds;
Which though for Naples 'tis alone design'd.
Will have impression on her generous mind.

Isab.
The distress'd fortunes of that beauteous Queen,
Has by my Soul deeply resented been;
And I the more for our confusions grieve,
In that no aid we can her fortunes give.
But see she comes.—

Enter Cornelia, Irene, Sylvia.
Cor.
Ah Madam, what should mean,
The sad distractions which I now have seen?
Wak'd from a gentle slumber soft as those,
Of Lovers charm'd with Musick to repose;
I rose, and in confusion went to see,
What 'twas that had divided sleep and me;
And to my Window streight I did repair,
And setting wide those sluces of the Air,
I in the Streets saw waves of people flow,
Like the Sea Billows, when fierce Tempests blow,
Among the Surges of th'unruly throng,
Came Fleets of Armed Troops Sailing along.
Like Ships pursued by angry winds and streight,
They all were landed at the Pallace Gate.

Jul.
Heavens! we shall be murder'd!

Isab.
—W' are betray'd!
The Enemy is got into the Town,
Villanes have sold my fathers life and Crown.

Cor.
Madam, you judge too soon, and judge the worst,
Forbear till you have heard the story first.
Then Madam know, the Guard's oppos'd a while;
But 'twas like Reeds upon the banks of Nile,
Weakly resisting an impetuous Floud,
Of Armed Troops, and of a floating Croud.
The King your father then in person came,
Compas'd with lights, that he seem'd arm'd with flame.
When from the Terrace first he did appear,
Their awfull silence shew'd a general fear;
Till some more insolent then all the rest,
Presum'd to set their Pikes against his Breast:
But when the Prince appear'd the Martial Ring,
Proclaim'd aloud, that he should be their King.
By the respect they did your brother shew,
Judge if they were your enemies, or no.

Jul.
Oh! Heavens! How durst you stand in dead of night,
So unconcern'd, to see that dreadful sight?

Iren.
I saw all this the Queen doth now relate,
From my own room which views the Palace Gate.
And the fierce tumults fil'd me with such dread,
That in a fright I here for safety fled.

Isab.
And could the Traytors find no fitter time,
But this the more to aggravate their crime?
When Heaven abandons a declining King,
Rebellion then grows a religious thing.
Though on Heavens party they devoutly fight,
To whom all Kings must bowe their Sovereign right!
And this with vulgar heads succeeds so well,
Success seems Heavens Commission to rebel.

Jul.
Hark, Hark, the shouts increase;—They'r louder yet,

Iren.
And now they nearer to the Palace get.—

Shouts.
Isab.
The Rebels still are insolent and loud,
The King will fall in the rebellious Croud.
Madam, you'r cast upon a fatal Shore,—
Turning to Cornelia.
Where you meet Tempests greater then before.
The noises and unruly Crouds appear
Less civil then the Storms that forc'd you here.
But Heaven that judges these misfortunes due
To us, designs no share of 'um you.

Cor.
Heaven to us all doth equal share design,
Since friendship makes all your misfortunes mine.

Jul.
But Portia comes,—And see she comes in hast.
Enter Portia.
Ah! Portia speak, Is all the danger past,
Or doth it still increase?

Por.
Madam, this noise
Is but the peoples loud tumultuous cryes.

Jul.
The Queen already hath the story said!
Tell us th'event, is my great father dead?
What have the Traytors done? and can we flye,
Or must we tarry and prepare to dye?

Por.
It is in vain the fatal truth to hide!
Madam, we are beset on every side,
Your Enemies are come, the French are here,
All round the walls their warlike Troops appear,
And their approch such terrour doth display,
As almost frightens back the infant day.

Cor., Isab., Jul., Iren.
Ye Powers!

Por.
And every Minute comes a Post,
With news of Towns surrendred, Cities lost.
With this the people are distracted grown,
Some would have streight deliver'd up the Town
Others that had with wrongs been much opprest,
Now seek revenges whilst the King's distres'd.
The publick dangers they do all contemn.
Crying, all Tyrants are alike to them.
And thus the City did with clamours ring,
The French besiege the Town; the Town the King.

Isab.
What would the Villanes have?

Jul.
My fathers life
I fear will be th'event of all this strife!

Por.
The King retir'd in a profound dispair,
And left the people to the Princes care.
Then did the Armed Crouds the Prince surround,
And in the noise and tumult he was Crown'd!

Cor.
I feel within my heart a sudden flame,
Aside.
Rise at the mention of the Princes name:
Nor all the noise that doth his Reign begin,
Exceeds the tumult which I feel within.

Iren.
Of brave Ascanio still I nothing hear,
Aside.
Heaven grant he meets with no misfortune there!
For in his Kings concern his passion's high,
And his ungovern'd zeal too far will flye.

Isab.
Then I perceive the Kingdom is undone,
The Crown of Naples from our line is gone:
For these Convulsions in a dying state,
Some high and dangerous ills prognosticate.
—Come Madam let us go—
To Cor.
And since the worst that fate designs we know:
(If it be day) lets on the Western Towre,
View this dark Cloud which threats so fierce a shower.

Exeunt omnes
Enter Alphonso, Ferdinand, Ascanio, Trivultio.—Guard.
Alph.
Depose their King, and fly from his defence,
When they'ne the highest need of innocence!
T'ingage all Kings and fortune of their side,
To guard their Wealth, and prop their falling pride:
But since my Son they've seated on my Throne,
They in some measure do their sins atone.
Dear Ferdinand, thou hast thy peoples voice,
And art thy fathers and the Kingdom's choice.
Like blind Idolaters they worship thee,
With dark devotion by blaspheming me.
They finding my dim glories to decline,
With Torches of Rebellion light up thine:
But like a God, their ignorance disdain,
And shine upon 'em with a glorious Reign.

Ferd.
Ah! Sir, I humbly crave—
You'd not such orders on my duty lay,
Which I must be disloyal to obey;
Not by resigning up to me your Throne,
Force me to make the peoples guilt my own.
I'le not such favour to rebellion shew,
To wear a Crown the people do bestow,
Who when their giddy violence is past,
Shall from the King th'ador'd revolt at last;
And then the Throne they gain, they shall invade,
And scorn that Idol which themselves have made.
No,—live and govern to revenge on them
Those Crimes; which only now you can contemn.

Alph.
No Ferdinand, I the choice of Heaven allow,
And to my fate, not to my Vassals bowe,
In all the changes that to Crowns befall,
There is a power unseen that governs all,
Orders the moves, and playes the mighty game,
Whilst only Kings and Kingdoms have the name.
'Twas Heaven for Naple's safety did decree,
By all those tumults to make choice of thee.
I freely then the Royal power resign.
Proclaim your King.
Ferdinand seems to oppose.
No more the Crown is thine—
I will for ever quit that glorious weight,
And now retire from all the toils of state.
Long live Ferdinand King of Naples!—

All shout.
Ferd.
What guilty acclamations do I hear?
'Tis known to Heaven how small a part I share,
In that disloyal joy the people shew.

Asc.
Accept the Crown Sir, since it must be so.
Our ruin'd Kingdom flies to your defence;
As to a Prince fram'd for this exigence.
With sublime courage to support the weight,
Disperse these Clouds, rebuild the falling state.

Alph.
Now son, the glories of my life are done!
But ah! thy troubles are but now begun;
For know this Crown to that distress is come,
Abroad 'tis pityed, and betray'd at home.
Thy subjects mutining and thy allyes,
Flye from their own approching destinies.
The less Italian States that us'd to ride,
In calmes of peace close by each others side.
Have with this tempest broken every Chain,
And now are tost like Gallyes on the main.
That to unite again, they seek no more,
Each flyes for safety to a several Shore.
Venice and Rome, on whom I did rely,
Buy their own peace, and from the tempest flye;
Which swells this Monarque with no less design,
Then the Worlds ruine to begin with thine.

Fer.
He on the world hath past a haughty doom;
But we may make his thoughts contain less room.

Alph.
'Tis true, my Son, but thou art left alone,
And hast no Sword to trust to but thy own.
And that with high rebellions broke in two,
That none, my Son, dare manage it but you.
Those that should serve thee in this high contest,
Turn all their Swords against the Monarchs breast,
That in this exigence 'tis hard to say,
Which are more dangerous, the French or they.

Asc.
The Prince, of Salerne heads the Rebel crue.

Ferd.
He do's,—and I the Villane will pursue,
In his fierce chase of power with so much flame,
He shall let fall his prey, and change his game,
And curse his pride which his ambition lead,
To play with Thunder till it stroke him dead.

Alph.
Yes Ferdinand, thou must the slave destroy,
On that young Traytor first thy arms employ.
He thinks his bold pretence is just and good,
Thus to revenge his rebel fathers blood.
Nay his successful pride so high doth swell,
He dare demand thy Sister Isabel:
But make him know it is a safer thing,
To blaspheme Heav'n, then to depose a King.
Between the French and him thy Arms divide.
The War is just and brave on either side.
Rather then by a slave in triumph lead.
Throw down thy falling Kingdom on his head.
Blow up the French, the Villane, and the Town;
And if thou canst not save, thus loose the Crown.
Thou wilt be brave and glorious in thy fall;
But thou hast courage to subdue them all.

Triv.
The King revengeful grows when 'tis too late,
Thus mighty Spirits struggle with their fate.

Asc.
Had this great counsel been pursu'd in time,
T'had sav'd our ruine, and that rebels crime.

Ferd.
In these expressions of your Royal mind,
I both my duty and my Glory find.
And, Sir, I'le pay them such sublime respect,
To your revenge I Altars will erect;
Where I will consecrate my Sword, and he
With all his train shall the chief Victims be.
Then for my other foes I will prepare,
And with devotion thus begin the Warre.
And if I conquer, prostrate all my Fame,
And Glory at your Feet, from whence they came.

Asc.
Brave Prince!

Tri.
But this Devotion I'm afraid—
Aside.
Will Sacrifice the Crown upon your head

Alph.
Ah Son! thou fillst my heart with secret joy,
My high prophetick thoughts my fears destroy.
Some mighty Glories treasur'd up by Fate,
For vertues that attain so great a height.
When thou hast through a thousand glorious toyls,
Trode on Rebellion, and hast reapt the Spoils,
From the Ambitious French; the news to me
Will even a second Coronation be:
Then freed from all these cares, enjoy thy Throne,
And raise the glorious name of Arragon.
And now (my Son) farewell—this painfull hour
Presses me more, then e're did weights of Power.
But I shall conquer it—The Powers divine,
Take to their Guard, a virtue great as thine.
Now let thy Galleys to the Asian shore,
Conduct thy Father hence—Thy King no more.

Ferd.
This Floud of Sorrow let me first unlade,
Then, Sir, your sad commands shall be obey'd.

Asc.
Tragicall sight! the brave Alphonso's gone,
Ex. Alph. Ferd.
Despoild by Rebels of that glorious Throne,
In which his Soul whilst living was enclos'd:
For Kings are truly murder'd when depos'd.
When they the Souls of Power from Empire flye,
They turn a wandring Regal-shade, and dye.—

Ex.
Triv.
And art thou gone, brave Prince! thy short-liv'd Reign,
Hath been of troubles one continued Scene.
The giddy multitude, who never fear
A threatning danger, till they see it near,
Do fondly from their own Protection flye,
And just Assistance to their King deny.
Oppos'd by some, forsaken by the rest:
All will be conquer'd, rather then opprest.
But when Destruction on themselves they bring,
They then revenge their follies on their King.
This Scene once past, the next thing I must know,
Is how my Fortunes I had best bestow.
E're since the Armies of this Crown I've lead,
Lawrells have never wither'd on my Head.
The State is wholly at my devotion grown,
And as I please, I can dispose this Crown
And I therein shall Fortunes smiles pursue;
All my Allegiance to my self is due.
As Fortune favours, so shall I advance,
The Interest of Naples, or of France.
Enter. Prince of Sallerne.
But ha! the fierce young Prince of Sallerne here,
How dares he thus among the Guards appear!

Sal.
Trivultio, seek not to retrieve the Guard,
I will from no Accesses be debar'd.
Shew several men Armed.
Nay, my unbounded Power to let you see,
The King shall have no other Guards but me.
'Tis to my interest, ye high honours doe,
Those who make Idols, must preserve 'um too.

Tri.
I know your Interest, Sir, and wish your Power,
Were something less, or Loyalty were more.

Sal.
My Loyalty!
Go talk of that to dull obedient Fools,
Whom Laws, and tame pedantick virtue rules.
My Honour's safe in that my Cause is good,
And I am Loyal to my Fathers bloud:
And shall be bold, in such a glorious Cause,
To tread on Kings, and Loyalty, and Laws.
By Natures high commands my Sword I draw,
And Natures dictates are the highest Law.

Tri.
No doubt, to Natures universal Sway,—
Ironice
All Laws must bow, and Kingdoms must obey.
But, Sir, Imperious Nature might have chose,
A fitter time for her Commands, then those,
When King and Kingdom are embroyl'd in war,
That for the Crime of one all punisht are.
If 'tis a Crime for Monarchs to defend
Their Crowns from every Sacrilegious hand.
But Power it seems can Change the names of things,
Treason Virtue; and make Rebels Kings.
But grant your Fathers bloud unjustly spilt,
Must Naples suffer for their Monarchs guilt?

Sal.
Sir, I'le Revenge my Fathers bloud on all
That saw, and dares survive his Funerall:
On all that to his Execution came,
And did not set all Naples in a flame.
Blaspheme the Heavens, and in transports of Rage,
'Gainst Kings and Gods in some high act engage

Tri.
No doubt 'twas pity when he lost his Head,
But all mankind had suffer'd in his stead.—
Ironcie.
But I must wait a more important care.

Sal.
Stay, Sir, and to the King this Message bear.
Tell him, that now his Father I've chastis'd,
My high Revenges are in part suffic'd:
That when h'ath wipt his Eyes, which for a while
Must drop some tears for the old Kings Exile,
I am content my Passion to subdue,
And if he please our Friendship to renew.
And that th'Alliance may eternal prove,
I've thought his Sister worthy of my Love;
And shall descend t'accept her as my Bride,
If I'me petition'd for't on every side.
But if my Alliance he dares disesteem,
Tell him, I both his Sister scorn, and him.
To wear his Crown were to descend too low;
Him and that trifle I'le on Charles bestow.—

Ex.
Tri.
To what prodigious heights his Spirit flyes,
The Fates and Crowns of Monarchs to despise.
These are Portentous-Signs, and I'me afraid,
The Crown will fall from our young Monarchs head.
And with its heavy fall, 'twill ruine those,
Who fondly in its support their lives expose.
Too long I've born the weight for no Reward,
Now time calls loud my Fortunes to regard,
And leave this barren place,—
Which for this twenty years with bloud I've sown,
And nothing reapt but beggerly Renown.—

Exit.
Enter Charles, Lewis of Orleance, Mompensier, Guards. The Scene, a fair Country before the Walls of Naples.
Ch.
The day draws on, the Sun appears in view,
And we to day have much brave work to do.
Send in my name a Herauld to the Town,
Tell King Alphonso I demand the Crown.
That Crown his Ancestours usurpt from mine,
And he the third Usurper of his Line,
Detains—if he refuse—bid him prepare
For all the worst Calamities of War.

Lew.
They dare not Sir, oppose your mighty Claim,
The World's subdu'd already with your Fame.
The Italian States like Herds to Covert flye,
Whilst you are like a whirlwind passing by.
Yes, Rome her self declines her sacred head,
And by obsequious fawning shews her dread.
But this lost Kingdom, upon whom the Ball,
Folded in Clouds of Fire, designs to fall,
Shakes with the fears of its approching doom,
Whilst smoking a far off they see it come.

Mom.
Yes Sir, your Power like an impetuous tide,
Breaks down their yielding banks on every side;
That raving with despair, they wildly run,
I'th midst of all those dangers they would shun.
Our spies within have all disorders found,
The King is banisht, and his Son is Crown'd.
Hurried into the Throne by crowds of those,
Whom now instead of guarding, they oppose.
Within their City's of a blazing Fire;
Without their Army ready to Retire.
Nor Town nor Army will their King obey,
That you will meet no Enemy to day.

Ch.
Yes, Sir, the Rebels are my Enemies,
And every Kings concern as well as his.
Rebellion is a Monster, would devour
The Kingly dignity, and Sovereign power.
A sort of Atheism, that doth Crowns blaspheme,
And stiles the Sacred Power of Kings a dream.
And as blasphemers call the Heavenly powers,
To arm their Thunder; this awakens ours.
Go to the King then e're it proves too late,
To Momp.
And if you find the Rebels desperate,
The party strong, and the young King afraid,
He cannot conquer 'um, I'le lend him aid.
When that is done, tell him the Crown's my right,
And I expect that he resign or fight.

Mom.
Great Sir, I shall obey.

Cha.
Next to the Town
Proclaim, that I all Rebels shall disown.
For though 'tis true I am their lawful Prince,
To whom they all allegiance owe; yet since
Titles of Kings are Mysteries too high,
Above the reach of ev'ry vulgar eye,
They must the present shrines of power adore,
And pry into their duty, and no more;
For those with new Religions will be bold,
Who dare with high contempt profane the old:
And he who doth his own false God despise,
And with atheistick pride and scorn denies
That worship, which he thinks is but his due,
Would do the same if he ador'd the true.
Bid 'um be Loyal then, whilst we dispute,
And their false worship I with arms confute.

Exit.