University of Virginia Library

ACT IV.

The Scene the Town of Naples, and enter Prince of Salerne and Trivultio, muffled in their Cloaks, and disguized.
Sal.
How? March in pomp, and triumph through the Town,
Whilst I that name, which threatned Kings disown?
Must I be buried thus alive, whilst he
Advanc'd by Fortunes servile flattery,
Marches in state to meet the haughty charms
Of her I love, and revel in her arms?
Damn'd be this tame disguise,—I will appear,
And Charles from th'arms of Love and Fortune tear.

Tri.
Hold, Let not Valour, Sir, your life betray;—
Sal. offers to go.
Nor demand debts which fortune cannot pay.
I know his triumphs to your Sword are due;—
But,—

Sal.
But what? do'st thou adore his fortune too?

Tri.
How I adore it?—No Sir, curs'd be he,
That shall deny by any treachery
To take that life he to our Swords do's owe;
When fortune shall a fair occasion show:
But I'de not dunne my Stars when they are poor,
And so gain nothing but inrage 'um more.

Sal.
If Bankrupt fortune's poor, I'le fall on those,
On whom profusely she my wealth bestows.
Charles has my Mistress, do's my triumphs wear,
My wealth's in's hands, and I'le arrest it there.
I'le kill him,
Only to let th'imperious woman see
The arrogant folly of disdaining me.—

Offers again to go.
Tri.
Hold, since you'l go!—let us our fortunes joyn,
I'le share i'th glory of this great design;
Besides th'revenge to my lost fame is due,
I've some concerns of love as well as you.
For Julia, I a long hid flame have born,
Though I've supprest it;—
Knowing too well the Arragonian scorn,
Who to my Sword have paid so small regard,
they thought their service was its own reward.
But now I'le clear the scores another way;
Her beauty all my old arrears shall pay.

Sal.
She's thine! there's nothing shall be left undone,
That may bring down the pride of Arragon.

Tri.
Let's go then, whilst our raging blood do's boil,—
Whilst the French Guards, wearied with this days toyl,
Disperst in quarters to their rest betake,
All but whom Lust or Wine may keep awake;
Whilst they in pleasure, or repose engag'd,
Our friends alarm'd and the Town enraged,
We'l go to th'Palace in secure disguize.

Sal.
No more!—I scorn to kill him by surprize!
What I'le attempt, I'le do in open day,
And let his Guards and Genius stop my way:—
Then if I live or dye, destroy or save,
Success or death will equally brave.—

Exit.
Tri.
This high ungovern'd flame I must allay,—
I seek revenge;—
But then I'de seek it the securest way.
But Heav'ns! Which way shall this great deed be wrought,
My Soul is lost in a wild maze of thought!
But yet Ile boldly on.—
He who through dang'rous ways do's fate pursue,
Must not the depths of precipices view:
But with high courage, and a bold address,
Spur on, and leave to fortune the success.—

Exit.
The Scene changes to a Room of State. Enter Charles, Lewis, Mompensier, Guard.
Ch.
Gone to attend the Queen.—

Lew.
To guard her hence!

Ch.
What need of Guards, where there's no violence.
Design'd?—

Mom.
He fear'd lest the Venetian Fleet
Might from your Galleys some obstruction meet!

Ch.
Going to serve a Queen, regain his Crown,
To raise my Honour, and repair his own,
Could he suspect my Fleet would stop his way?
No,—rather all my Galleys shall conveigh
The King to any port, where he intends
To try his fortune, or has hopes of friends.

Lew.
Going with those, whose masters have declar'd
Themselves your Enemies, he justly fear'd
Your anger Sir!—

Ch.
He did!—That treacherous state,
Has disoblig'd me at the highest rate,
Have broke their faith with me, and out of fear,
And envy to my rising glories here.
Creep into Leagues, and private friendships court,
That I might fire their Galleys in the Port:—
But since they attend the Queen—
I'le spare their Galleys, and reprieve the doom
Of that false state, till my returning home;
But to the Queen—
Command my Admiral that he honours pay,—
To an Officer, who goes out.
And whilst she stays her orders to obey.—

Mom.
But dares, great Sir, the false Venetian state
Abuse your friendship?—

Ch.
That we'l now debate!—

Charles seats himself, and enter a Secretary with Papers, and dispatches.
Ch.
Not only they,—but all
Th'Italian Princes are in Councel sate,
Each fears to lose his little Coronet.
Nay, by th'Intelligence I've now receiv'd,
All Kings and states with my success are griev'd,
Doubting themselves, and knowing not how high
Ambition raised, with victory may flye.
Rome, Millane, Venice, Germany and Spain,
With all the little Princes they can gain,
Are all in bonds of strict allyance tied,
To check (as they pretend) my growing pride,
That I must now make war on halfe mankind,
And gain that Empire which I ne're design'd.

Mom.
Rome perjur'd too?

Ch.
Yes, Venice, Millane, Rome,
Agree to intercept my passage home,
Are arming Frontiers, raising Troops with speed;
Which the fam'd Duke of Mantua must lead,
The great Gonzaga, one whose fame is high,
And on his conduct they do all rely.

Lew.
Sir, that an envious and Mechanick state,
Whose Nature is, Crown'd heads to fear and hate,
A Princes glory thus should undermine,
I not admire;—but such a low design,
That Rome should aid?—

Momp.
And joyn with Sforza too,—
A barbrous Prince, who did his hands embrue,
In his young Masters bloud,—and basely made
Our wars his opportunity, to invade
His Life and Crown, and act his villanies!

Ch.
That bloudy Traytor Sforza I'le chastise!
But now that Rome should joyn in league with these,
When for his fame had given me hostages,
Enrages me!—

Lew.
You must be times disperse
These gathering Clouds that threaten storms so fierce.

Mom.
First shake your Rods o're th'Ecclesiastick Chair!
That busy-headed-priest, you must not spare.
He is Heavens Usher in the worlds great School,
Only to teach, for Kings have highest rule.

Ch.
What 're his Office or Commission be,
I'le make Rome know his duty now to me.
He shall not baffle Kings, under pretence,
With all Heavens Laws his Office can dispence;
He swore me faith! and if the power's divine
Slight their own honour, none shall sport with mine.
Cozen of Orleance march to night away,
With all my choicest men!—

Lew.
Sir, one nights stay
Your wearied men for rest would humbly crave.

Ch.
Then let 'um short and gentle marches have:
But move this evening, though you march not far;
For expedition is the life of war!

Mom.
Send not too many for your safety sake,
Lest this rebellious Town advantage take.
And what's so desp'rate as an angry slave,
When by adventuring he revenge may have?

Ch.
Leave fifteen thousand foot?—Your march direct
To Rome—I'le follow and no time neglect.
Exit Lew.
What, did you visit yet as I desir'd,
The Dutchess Isabel?

Mom.
Sir, she retir'd
To her apartment, and with haughty pride
Retains her state, and Visitants deny'd.

Ch.
Alas! she well might have that pride forborn,
To one that values not her love or scorn.
She that had such a Monarch in her Chain,
Would a young petty rival entertain,—
Makes me contemn the name of Royal slave,
And slight the little wounds her beauty gave:
But now we've setled all our grand affair,
And the declining day begins to wear.
His milder beams let's out, and tast a while
The fresher air; for I with this days toil
Am weary grown!—

Mom.
The Gardens, Sir, are nigh,
From hence they open to your prospect lye.

Charles and Mompensier go out, and the Scene is drawn, and a fair Garden is presented. Julia sitting as asleep in an Arbour; Euphemia waiting by. A Song within.
Whilst the Song is sung, Charles and Mompensier enters, Charles gazes on Julia.
The Song sung to Julia in the Garden.

Ch.
I'me startled, see! What divine shape is there?
Some Angel sure,—no mortal is so fair!

Mom.
Some airy Vision do's deceive our eyes.

Ch.
Heavens! like a bright unbodyed Soul she lyes
Wrapt in a shape of pure Ætherial air,
To some fair body ready to repair.
Know'st thou whom this bright shape resembles most?

Mom.
None but the Princess Julia, Sir, dare boast,
These Angel beauties—
She to the Dutchesses apartment came,
Whilst I was there, these beauties are the same.

Ch.
The Princess Julia!

Mom.
How his eyes are fixt!—
Aside.
Sir!
If any knowledge of your heart I learn,
You view this lovely shape with some concern.

Ch.
I do—and must acknowledge
I feel within my heart a passion move,
Like the soft pantings of approching love.
And if from war I could the leasure gain,
Th'insinuating guest to entertain,
My heart might be seduc'd by one so fair
To love, and fix my roving passion there!—
But to
Remoter parts o'th' Gardens let's repair,
To take breathings of the evening air.

They go out betwixt the Scenes, as into the Garden, and enter Salerne, and Trivultio follow'd by several,—all habited like the French Guards.
Tri.
So we've securely past in this disguize,—
Let's watch a fair occasion for surprize.

Sal.
Surprize?—make an alarm,—for he shall dye,
Were all his Guards, and his whole Kingdom by.

Tri.
But let us wait for the approch of night—

Sal.
—Let night be dam'd,—
I'le kill him now in Isabella's sight,
That every wound I give him, she may feel;
And when he's fallen by my revengeful Steel,
She wild and raving, may his death bemone,
Tear out his bleeding heart and stab her own.
See there,—He walks,—

Looks within the Scenes,
Tri.
Silence,—for Heavens sake.—

Sal.
Nor Heaven,—
Nor Hell shall hinder the revenge I'le take,
Were death 'twixt him and me I would not stay.—

Goes out 'twixt the Scenes.
Tri.
Ye Powers he'l our designs and lives betray!
Hast, let the Garden Avenues be barr'd,
Before we give suspition to the Guard.—
To one of his followers.
Thou to the Postern run, where our men wait,
To a second
On a sign giv'n t'aid, as in our retreat,—
Unlock it with this Key,—and then remove
Part of our men, to th'private Mirtle Grove.
Place 'um i'th Grotto, by the dark descent,
Where we may flye, if the French Guards prevent
Our other passage! Heavens! what is't I see?
The Princess here!—blest opportunity!
Now!—now's the time! you run and aid the Prince,
You stay and help me to conveigh her hence!—

They go out several ways, Trivultio and a party towards Julia, who shreiks and runs off the Stage, crying, murder! At the same time clashing of Swords within is heard, and immediately enter Charles defending Julia, and pursued by Salerne, Trivultio and his party; Salerne beating down the Swords of Trivultio, and the rest.
Sal.
Vilanes retire! I do'nt your succours need,
The Tyrant by my hand alone shall bleed!

Ch.
Thou'rt brave! who e're thou art!

As Salerne and the rest are going about to assault Charles. Enter Mompensier and a Guard, rushing in on all sides of the Stage, Crying, Treason! and assist Charles, all assaulting Salerne, who with Trivultio are forced off the Stage by Charles and the Guard, after which Julia recovers her self from her surprize.
Jul.
Oh Heavens! in what confusions have I been,
With what my heart has felt, my eyes have seen?
Sav'd by the King? my ruin'd heart's betray'd,
Into an ambush which my Stars have made.
Punisht for doting on an airy shape,
My enslav'd heart must never hope to 'scape!

Euph.
Fate seems not
By this surprize, your flame to disapprove,
Rather exalts it to a generous love.

Jul.
But all in vain.

Euph.
A Princess young and fair!—
Such youth and beauty's yours should ne're despair

Jul.
But when I love a Prince I ought to hate,
What passion can be more unfortunate?

Enter Charles as from the Chase of Salerne, &c.
Jul.
But see, he comes!—my yielding spirits flye!
Help me Euphemen!—or I faint,—and dye!

Ch.
Madam,! How much am I asham'd, you find
Such barbrous treatment here, where I design'd
You withall Honour should be entertain'd?
Giving commands, that whilst you here remain'd
My slaves the same respect to you should bear,
As if the King your father govern'd here.
But since my guards—
Did not this horrid vilany prevent,
Your own fair mouth shall name their Punishment.

Jul.
Sir, rather let
Those slaves of ours (if they are fled) be sought,
Who 'gainst your life have this bold Treason wrought;
For Sir, the horrid vilany th'ave done,
I know my Royal brother will disown.
And punish too, if he had so much power.—
And though from the obliging Conquerour,
By all brave ways he will his Crown redeem,
For this great act—
He will his gen'rous enemy esteem:

Ch.
Ah, Madam! though by my unhappy fate
I've been too much expos'd to your just hate,
And in pursuit of fame, have been betray'd
To all those wars,—
I with the house of Arragon have made.
I now acknowledge I so vanquisht am,
That I for ever do renounce the name
Of enemy,—
And do repent the crimes my Sword has done,—
And at your feet will lay the Crown I've won.

Jul.
Sir, you know best your guilt or innocence,
I shall not judge you for your wrong pretence.
Let Heaven do that to whom our right is known:
But if my Brother e're regain his Crown,
The obligation, now on us you have laid,
Shall be some gen'rous way by him repaid.

As Julia is going, Charles proffers to lead her by the hand, which she seems to refuse, and withdraws her hand: At the same time enters Isabella.
Isab.
As from my close retirement I withdrew,
Me thoughts wild noises from the Gardens flew,
And horrid cryes loud ecchos did repeat.—
Has the proud Tyrant some disaster met?

Discovers Charles leading Julia within the Scenes
Isab.
But ha! the Tyrant, and my Sister there!—
Oh! cursed Vision quickly disappear!—
I'le charm you, be you spirits bad or good,—
I'le rend your shapes, I'le circle you in blood.

Julia goes,—and Charles turns, and sees Isabella.
Ch.
Ha!
The Dutchess Isabel!

Isab.
Yes, Sir, 'tis I!
I fear I have disturb'd your privacy;
If so (great Sir!) I do your pardon crave.

Ch.
Madam, for that you need no pardon have,
Since all the Palace is at your command!

Isab.
I'm glad my liberty I understand;—
But pray Sir,—
On your fair Princess to'r apartment wait,
This kindness then, we farther will debate.

Ch.
Madam,—your councel I do well approve;
But none need teach me—
What duty I should pay to those I love!

Isab.
Thou lov'st!—Immortal powers! with unmov'd brows
Dar'st thou relate, how thou contemn'st thy vows!

Ch.
The vows
To Isabel of Arragon I made,
To Millanes Dutchess ought not to be paid.

Isab.
But Millanes injur'd Dutchess shall chastise
Th'inconstant Prince, that dares her love despise.
Heavens! thou inflam'st me to so great a rage,
that nothing but thy bloud shall it asswage.

Ch.
Good Madam, what should this great passion mean?
Is it because you have inconstant been,
And now into a fit of rage are flown,
To hide those faults which you disdain to own?

Isab.
Tyrant I never did a crime commit.
But when my heart did to thy love submit.
Thy love? Thy hate! thy scorn! for which I now
Would stab that heart which would so poorly bowe,
And with false Meteors so deluded be,
But that I live to have revenge on thee.

Ch.
Madam, first seek revenge on your own scorn.
Which vainly slighted Crowns, you might have worn,
And your preposterous pride, did in my stead,
Advance a puny lover to your bed,—
Whose little Coronet—

Isab.
Preposterous pride!

Ch.
Yes, when for Millane, France should be deny'd,

Isab.
Thou fir'st my bloud! I'm rackt with grief and shame,
Wouldst thou have had me stay, and court thy flame?
Thy feign'd addresses did not I receive,
And for thy loytring flame in silence grieve;
Waiting the motion of thy painted fire,
Till modesty compel'd me to retire?
Then by a thousand differing passions lead,
Was I not forc'd into that Princes bed,
By such commands I durst not disobey,
And by distractions of more power then they?
And now of him and all my friends bereft,
The Kingdom lost, and no assistance left,
Opprest both by thy falshood, and thy Sword,
Dost thou such recompence as this afford?

Ch.
Madam!

Isab.
No more,—no more insulting Prince!
Treat nor a Lady with this insolence!
Is this your valour (mighty King!) t'oppress
A poor afflicted Princess in distress?
Go hide thy head with shame, and with some fear!—
For know thy fall!—thy fall,—proud King, is near;
Th'ast rob'd me of all my friends,—
Thou shalt not rob me of my courage too;
I will do more then all our Troops could do,
The glory of our house I'le yet regain,
And all thy Laurels in thy bloud I'le stain.

Exit.
Ch.
Alas poor Lady! I her pain perceive,
She sees 'tis vain for her old scorn to grieve;
And now to soften her remorslless fate,
Flatters her self with pride, revenge and hate.—
But see Mompensier here,
Enter Momp.
And by his looks do some ill tydings bear.

Mom.
Ah, Sir!—
The bearer of ill news, I'm forc'd to be.—
Not only the actors of this vilany
Have scap'd our hands, and made a safe retreat,
But in the Harbour the Venetian Fleet.—

Ch.
How! do's my Admirall my orders flight,
Or without leave dares he presume to fight,
Or stop the Fleet,—His boldness I'le chastise,—
Fire on my Admirall from the batteries
On him, and all my Galleys till they cease,
And of King Ferdinand humbly beg for peace,
Fire on 'um,—Hast.—

Mom.
Alas! Sir, all's too late,
Both Princes have already met their fate.
The Queen—is lost.—

Ch.
What wast thou saidst the Queen.—

Mom.
Yes, Sir, her Galley in distress was seen
Rowing to Land, but e're it gain'd the Shore,
Sunk in the Billows, and was seen no more.

Ch.
Oh! fatal accident! which way shall I
Make satisfaction for this vilany—
To Heaven, and all that will her bloud demand,
And which is more to injur'd Ferdinand?—

Mom.
Sir, 'twas the King himself did first engage,
Fir'd with a haughty and ungovern'd rage,
To see his Fleet confin'd, and yours controul
The Shore along the Channel, and the Mole,
And he must at your Admiralls pleasure stay,
He sought through bloud, and flame to make his way,—
And had destroy'd your Fleet,—
Had not the news of the Queens loss done more,
Then Bullets could to save it from his power;
For with the news he fell,—and with him—.
Victory fell, his Galleys sunk with fear,
And all his Scenes of triumph disappear;
And fortune, whom his valour had constrain'd,
Stole from his Sword, and liberty regain'd,—
And now—
After the wonders which his Sword had wrought,
He is among guards ashore, a prisoner brought.

Ch.
A prisoner,—my Admirall dyes for this!—
With a strict guard ashore the vilane bring!
To one that waits.
Thou with a Train go meet the injur'd King,—
To Momp.
Wait his commands, pay all submissions due
To his high quality and valour too.
Declare my innocence, his pardon crave,
And whilst he stays, let him all honours have.—

Exit.
Mom.
With how much glory these two Kings contend,
Each others generous enemy, and friend.
My King
To Ferdinands Crown, and friendship do's lay siege,
And strives at once to conquer and oblige:
But Ferdinand judges it a greater thing,
To subdue Heaven and Fortune, then a King.
But see! he comes,—and ha!—
Enter Ferdinand and Ascanio brought as Prisoners by the Guard.
A weighty grief hangs on his Royal brow,
His mighty Soul do's to his sorrows bow!

Ferd.
Cornelia dead, what is't I have done!
My fair Cornelia, whither art thou gone!
Cœlestial shade! If yet there may not be
Too many Clouds 'twixt my dark Soul and thee,
Look down, and see my grief, and oh! forgive
That fatal pride, which would not let thee live;
But rather would to fate thy life expose,
Then take one kindness from my conquering foes:
I am thy murderer, and at my hand,
(Fair Queen!) thou must thy guiltless bloud demand;
Nor shalt thou ask in vain, and be deny'd
His wretched life by whom Cornelia dy'd;
Rather new torments for my self I'le find,
And dying, beg the curse of all Mankind.

Mom.
His sorrow do's his Royal Soul oppress,—
Momp. beckens away the Guard
That 'tis no time, I find for my address.

Asc.
Now he begins his passions to disclose,
And now, alas! I dare not interpose!—

Aside.
Ferd.
For the Queens body let all search be made,
And when shes found, and I've appeas'd her shade,
Interre us in such decent state,—
As may our Royal qualities become,
And lay us both together in one Tomb.
This kindness to thy care I recommend—
To Asc.
The last, thou e're shalt pay thy King and friend,
To stoop to Charles my spirit is too high,
Though if I ask'd it, he would not deny,
That friendly act; for I have found him brave,
And this is all the recompence I crave
Of him, or of the angry pow'rs above,
For my lost Crown, and unsuccesful love.

Ex. om.