University of Virginia Library

SCENE III.

Enter Pisanio.
Pisan.
My Heart throbbs still, my Senses are disturb'd too,
And since I left the Princess in yon Court,
I have not been at rest; sure she's innocent,
And I and her rash Lord have been abus'd.
I'le seek her out,
And comfort her, for I believe she's innocent.

[Exit.
Enter Cloten in Ursaces Cloaths, and Jachimo dragging in Clarina in a mean Habit.
Clar.
Look on my tears, and let them melt your heart,
Your rocky hearts, yet harder far than Stone;
For Stones melt, when relenting Heavens weeps,
But you grow more obdurate with my tears.

Jachimo.
Tears? Why thou canst not oblige me more than to
Weep soundly; it makes the flame of Love more
Vigorous; Oh I like a passionate Woman in that
Business extreamly! she has the finest ways
With her.

Clar.
Think you not on your Souls? Alas, when I am dead,
As I will ne're outlive so black a Villany,
My Ghost will fright you, your wounded Consciences
Lash and torment you like a thousand Furies.

Clot.
Ghost? A pox o'thy Ghost: Prithee art thou such a
Fool to think we fear the Devil? Jachimo, show
Her the contrary, rowze her, towze her, Boy, I'le
Do thee an honourable kindness, and pimp for thee,
For fear of disturbance.

Jachimo.
A very friendly part, faith, my Lord: Come, Madam,
You and I must be more familiar; nay, nay, no
Strugling, my heart's a flame, and you must quench the fire.

Clar.
Rather be burn'd to ashes, barbarous Wretch; help, help.
Oh Heaven, send down thy Thunder, dash me to the Earth,
Rather than suffer this: Help, help.

Enter Pisanio.
Pisan.
What pitious Cry was that? sure 'twas a Woman's voice
By the shrill sound. Good Gods, what's this I see?
My Daughter here?

Clarin.
Mercy—unlook'd for: 'Tis he, Oh my dear Father,
Runs and embraces him.
In a bless'd minute are you come to save me!

Pisan.
Ha! Lord Cloten too?
Then all's discover'd, and I'me lost.

Cloten.
See Jachimo, yonder's that old Traitor too luckily
Faln into our snare: Go, go, take his Daughter
From him, and ravish her before his face.

Jachimo.
With all my heart; I'le not lose for a million.

Pisan.
He comes upon his death that touches her: Base men,
Have you no humane Nature?

Cloten.
Does he expostulate? Kill, kill the Slave.

Pisan.
I first shall see thy death.

Cloten.
No, Thou shalt never see agen; for when I have conquer'd thee,
With my Sword's point, I'le dig out both thy eyes,
Then drag thee to my Mother to be tortur'd.

Jachimo.
I'le do his business presently.

[Fight, Pisanio wounded.
Pisan.
Fly Daughter, fly, whilst my remains of Life
I render for thy safety.

Clarin.
Oh save my Father! Heaven save him, save him.

[Exit.
[Fights still, Pisanio kills Jachimo, then falls down with him, and Cloten disarms him.
Pisan.
Thou hast it now, I think.

Jachimo.
A Plague on him, he has kill'd me. Oh—

[Dyes.
Cloten.
Curs'd Misfortune! He's dead; but I'me resolv'd to
Be thy true Prophet however, thou shalt not
See my death, unless with other eyes.

[Puts out his eyes.
Pisan.
Hell-born Fury! Oh—

Cloten.
So, now smell thy way out of the Wood, whilst
I follow thy Daughter, find her, and cut her piece-meal.
I'le sacrifice her to the Ghost of Jachimo.

[Exit.
Pisan.
All dismal, dark as Night, or lowest Shades,
The Regions of the Dead, or endless Horror;
The Sun with all his light now gives me none,
But spreads his beamy Influence in vain,
And lends no Glimpse to light my Land of darkness.
Sure near this Place there lyes a Sword,
[Crawls about to find his Sword.
I'le try if I can find it. Pitiless Fate,
Wilt thou not guide my hand? My Wound's not mortal,
And I shall yet live Ages: True sign of Grief,
When we do wish to die before our time.
I'le crawl into some Bush and hide my self,
Till Fate's at leisure; there
To the dumb Grove recount my Miseries,
Weep Tears of bloud from Wounds instead of Eyes.

[Crawls out.