 | The Mistakes, or, The False Report |  |
1
ACT I.
SCENE. I.
The Street.Enter Alberto reading a Challenge, follow'd by his Man Lopez.
Alb.
This from Antonio? forbid it freindship!
He tells me that Miranda's false and loves me not;
If he be then that happy Rivall, why shou'd he desire
To take that life her Scorn can look away?
Lop.
Goes it there—I have the business now
[aside
But will prevent your designs my noble valiant Don.
Alb.
This note's ten thousand daggers to my breast,
Cleaves to my heart like Hercules poyson'd shirt,
And tares my Soul in piecemeal.
Shall I go on? my friendship bars the way;
But mighty Love and Honour chide my stay:
Yes, I will go; I'le meet this treacherous man,
And stab her image in his faithless breast,
Or fall my self a Sacrifice to both:
Lop.
That I must prevent, my good furious Master.
[aside.
Alb.
By Heaven he shan't enjoy her. I'le sluce my veins,
Let out a deluge of my bloud to drown 'em,
And follow 'em tho' rocks high as Olimpus,
Oppose and stop my way: Leap Ætna's hideous Vault,
Then catch 'em on the brink and plunge 'em in,
But I will have revenge, and such revenge
As Traytors, nay the damn'd themselves yet never knew:
And I'le about it strait.—
[Exit.
Lo.
So, now is he going to take Horse and Ride Post to the Devill.
A plague on these Female Succubus's, who o' my Conscience are good
for nothing else but to breed and beget quarrells.—Well faith I'le not
lose a good Master so.
Enter Ricardo, and his man Bernardo following.
Lop.
I'le get some friends and neighbours to assist me, then go with
'em to all the slaughtering fields about town and finde them out, and so
prevent their duelling.
Ric.
How's this! friends and neighbours to assist his Master, that must
not be: Bernardo, do you follow Lopez when he goes from hence, and
leave him not till night: I can away with your dilligence till to morrow.
Ber.
Till to morrow Sir?
2
Yes, till to morrow: business of importance obliges me to attend
the Vice-Roy: be gone.
[Bernardo waits at the door.
Lop.
What a pox has Antonio to do with his Mistriss? or can't he
share her with his friend, I warrant She'le give 'em both enough, in as
hot a Skirmish as this is like to be.
Ric.
I must prevent his purpose and design.—Lopez.
Lop.
Bless me! what will become of me now, if this ill-natur'd
Courtier has or'e-heard me?
Ric.
I've heard from you your Masters rash design, of fighting with
Antonio, and must your faithfulness and care commend.
Lop.
I'd rather you'd heard the last Trumpet Summoning you to Hell.
Sir you may commend it, but I can hardly believe that you'l reward it.
Ric.
Why Lopez, thy Master is My dearest friend;
Our hatred's fled to'th air from whence it sprung,
The date is out, and all the bonds are cancell'd:
Canst thou then think, I'de tamely see him fall,
And crack those strings which hold Ricardo's heart?
Friendship's a dearer name to me then Honour,
And I'le expose the one to save the other.
Lop.
As how Sir?
Ric.
I will prevent their fighting Lopez;
Or if that fail, I will assist thy Master:
But if his nicety refuse me that,
I'le stake the utmost cast I have to loose,
And run upon Antonio's Sword;
Then hold it close unto my throbbing heart
Untill my dearest blood cool on the point,
And blunt the stroak of death to save Alberto.
Lop.
Well Sir, since you are so resolv'd to serve my Master, I'le trust
his safety for once with you, and humbly retire.
Ber.
Hist, hist, Lopez.
[Lopez runs to Bernardo:
[both go off together.
Ric.
His safety, dull Buffoon, trust me for that:
Thou coud'st not chuse a better Guardian out,
Tho' thou hadst ransackt all the worlds below,
To cull a Villain of the blackest dye.
One thing I want to finish forth a Hero
But 'tis the meanest virtue—brutall Courage,
Mallice I have enough, and witty mallice:
These greater qualities may infuse the less,
And then Ricardo has a Titans Soul—
Alberto's death makes way for my pretentions,
Unto the coy Miranda's heart; I will about it strait:
Italian spite assist me at this push,
Or blast Ricardo, or his Rivall crush.
[Exit.
3
Enter Miranda, and Astella.
Mir.
Oh my Astella! what a tide of Joy
Streams in to Crown my yet imperfect Love!
'Tis rapture but to think he shall be mine.
To morrows dawn shall light our Loves for ever:
To thee I'le own my Friend without a blush
The Vestall fire which guards his Image here.
Ast.
My Brother's too much blest, in your kind Love,
Nor cou'd his utmost wish desire more,
Tho' it were boundless as are your merits.
Mir.
Why d'you prophane the Dearest of his Sex;
Sure nought that's mortall's worthy of his Love:
Were I made up of yet untasted Charms,
Such as wou'd pose the Painters noblest skill,
And dash his feeble fancy in it's flight,
Yet 't'were too mean a present for Alberto.
Oh! why are you so slow you tedious hours?
Blow fair my hopes, glide with a gentle gale,
To waft Alberto to his Mistriss Arms.
Ast.
With what strange Extasies of Joy he'le wellcome
This so happy news from his Miranda's mouth:
But let me beg you share with me my Sister,
Lest double passion burst my crowded breast:
My noble Brother has at last consented,
To consummate Antonio's happiness,
And Chain their friendships with another Link,
Soon as your father blesses him with you.
Mir.
Soon as my Father gives me heav'n in him:
Why comes he not to hear the charming news
Sounds as inchanting as the Theban Lire,
Or all the musick of the Spheres at once:
O Love! forgive the extravagance of my desires,
Which have no bounds short of the noblest heart,
That ever yet your golden arrows peirc'd.
Enter Maria.
Mar.
My Lord Alberto, Madam, is without,
Desires to know if he may have admittance:
Mir.
Fly and conduct him in:—now help me Sister,
[Exit. Maria.
4
Ast.
'Twere Sin to bar the freedom of your Loves:
And therefore beg leave humbly to retire.
[Exit
Enter Alberto, stands at a distance, and bows.
Mir.
Wellcome my Dear Alberto, for ever wellcome here;
But doubly wellcome now.
Alb.
To hear my ruine!
[aside.
Mir.
Now I can charm your sences into wonders,
Make your chill blood dance to the tune of Love,
And sing your Soul into Elysian raptures.
Alb.
O' fatall Beauty, and oh my cruell Stars!
[sighs.
Why was I born to love, and be despis'd?
Mir.
Ha! why this distance, and that heavy sigh!
Why play not thousand Cupids in your eyes
In expectation of 'th approaching bliss?
But I forget, 'tis I most charm your Soul.
My Father now has warranted our Loves,
Which shall be doubly ratifyed to morrow:
Still senceless!—
Alb.
Oh triumphant perjury!
Down, down the anger of my swelling breast
Fix me kind heaven, and clear my reason, lest
[aside.
My hand shou'd antidate your vengeance on her,
And cut this beauteous weed of nature down.
[aside.
Madam—Hell and confusion! I know not what to say:
I wish you Joy.
Mir.
Ha! wish me Joy, yet mention Hell Alberto,
The greatest blessing twisted with a Curse;
Oh all ye powers! Yet why my Lord, Oh why that wish?
How can you doubt my joy, when you're the Author,
My Heaven, my Paradice, my all I have?
Alb.
Oh Syren, Syren!
[aside
Mir.
Yes, my Lov'd Lord, you are my Souls desire,
Nor do I blush to speak a noble Truth.
But stay: mine did I say, my Lov'd Lord? O no!
It was a fond mistake, he's mine no more,
But false to all his Oathes and plighted Vows,
False to Miranda, that unhappy Maid.
[Weeps
Alb.
Furies and Death! 'tis downright mockery.
But Madam, know tho' I appear to you
So still, so calm, so like a suffering Saint,
Yet know (I say) there is a storm lies brooding here,
5
That Bane to Love and Friendship, False Antonio.
Mir.
Antonio! unfold this fatall riddle.
Abl.
Upon his heart I will.
Mir.
By Heaven! by All that's Sacred—
Alb.
Hold, hold, thou Lovely Perjur'd Beauty!
So well I love thee still, thou sha't not damn
Thy self to give Alberto satisfaction,
For that Antonio's life must give, not you.
Mir.
Hear me Alberto, or I dye with grief;
Hear me before your rashness makes it quite too late
To hear: 'tis Death to think you may be slain for me,
(For my heart bodes some strange eruption
Of discontent and Passion which tends to ruine;)
And surely I shou'd grieve Antonio's loss
Since Innocent.
Alb.
I know thou woud'st.
Mir.
Will you be still unjust?
Oh torture! see he fears to let me know the truth,
And Cause of this Disorder, this strange mistake.
[Weeps.
Alb.
Ha! does she weep! O treacherous Crocodile!
But I'le be calm: Just heaven, why have you lodg'd
Such lurking fiends, in this so fair a Mansion?
Why wink not all the Stars, and hide their heads
Since this bright Cinthia's fall'n from her sphere?
Can those tears be true? sure 'tis impossible!
But then if guilty, why shou'd she complain?
Oh! 'tis the nature of that cous'ning Sex,
To weep, and smile, and yet be false, and fair:
Thus bigot Love mistakes the genuine Pearl
Deluded with a gaudy, glittering nothing.
Mir.
Since then you'l not believe my Vows or Tears,
Clear with your Sword my injur'd Innocence,
And with my blood wash all my stains away.
Alb.
Still weeping! Too well I know the cursed Cause,
Those tears yon shed to your absent Lover
And only make a show of Sorrow,
To surprize me more.
Ah Cruell Maid, Thou poyson to our Loves and Friendship,
The only prop which dying Virtue leans on,
In one unhappy hour thou hast quite destroy'd,
And broke the Sacred Chain which link't our Souls.
Mir.
Will you Condemn me, e're you hear me speak?
What has Antonio done, to move your hate?
6
Is not Antonio—
Alb.
Ha! that name again!
By hell she doats and feeds upon the sound:
Antonio! Oh that word, that names a Charm,
A Charm indeed which has bewich'd Miranda,
And raz'd Heavens Stamp from out her fickle Soul:
O I could rave and Curse my Cruell Stars
Which have depriv'd me of my Joys and her:
But Love usurps the Throne and still's my rage.
Madam, I go for ever from your sight,
To meet a death from your Antonio's hands,
Or offer up my self a Victim to appease
His Angry Ghost, and glut Revenge and you.
Mir.
Stay, stay Alberto, hear me but speak.
Alb.
It cannot be, bid raging Seas to listen
When the Winds heave the billows into Clouds.
Mir.
Stay, stay, but to see Miranda dye.
Alb.
Away—
Mock not my reall griefs with thy false tears.
Mir.
False tears! nay then I can endure no more.
[Faints.
Alb.
Ha! does she faint! Return my fair Apostate,
Return, and hear the story of your Falshood;
Here I'le produce the clearest Evidence
Will prove you false, and trouble you no more.
Mir.
Convinc'd I'me false, yet give no more, O horror!
Yes, I wou'd rip my heart out of this breast,
And give't a prey for Vultures to devour,
Sooner then wrong my plighted faith in ought.
Alb.
No more, but read, read there your Crimes,
[gives her a letter.
There markt in Characters too plain and foul.
Farewell for ever Madam, for I dare not stay,
To see your blushes blab my destiny,
But must in silence part and calmly dye.
[Exit.
Miranda Sola.
Mir.
False to Alberto, this the Evidence;
Is this the Gorgon turns his heart to flint?
I dare not see this narrow Vault of death,
(Not that I fear my death, for that were wellcome)
But yet I dread there lies some putrid earth
Couch'd in the dark abode, left these black letters
With every turn shou'd curl into a Snake,
7
And taint my spotless truth with infamy.
Thus I secure it then—nor will I trouble
[Tears the Letter.
My conscious innocence with false alarms,
But banish all encroaching passions,
(But Love and Grief,) from out this troubl'd breast,
And leave th'unerring Gods to judge the rest.
[Exit.
Enter Vice-Roy, Ricardo, and Attendants.
V. R.
I care not, 'tis resolv'd.
Ric.
Pardon me Sir,
I have no other int'rest but your peace,
Which to preserve, I'de shipwrack all my own.
V. R.
How is my peace endanger'd in Alberto?
Ric.
I'm hush't Sir; he's my friend: only this—beware.
V. R.
Ricardo your words hang ill together:
Disjoynted words speak a disjoynted meaning.
You talk as if there were some mistery
'Twere fit I knew, and yet you're loath to tell.
Is he not Loyall?
Ric.
Loyall, he may be Sir, for ought I know,
I never fear'd the sharpness of his Sword,
Or to defend his Country, or disturb it:
'Tis true in Peace, 'twill hardly rust within the Sheath,
For I avern brawls and quarrells in the Stews;
Nor think I there, 'twill rust with too much blood:
Therefore your Daughter—
V. R.
Speak, what of my Daughter?
Ric.
There must he wound you Sir, there found the vein!
You think he loves her Sir, perhaps he may,
Who wou'd not love to be the Vice-Roys Son,
Courted, Esteem'd, nay more, Admir'd by all,
And held the Favorite both of Heaven and Earth?
But if (avert it Heaven) Experience tells you
He courted more that Title then your Daughter—
Vi. R.
I know your meaning, but no more of that:
What I've decreed stands firm, fixt as a Rock,
Not to be shaken with your blust'ring reason.
Prudence in Rulers is the Helm of State,
Which lost, the wandring Bark's a Prey to fate,
Splits on the Rocks and sinks into the Sand;
Reason that mann'd her, cannot then Command:
The Ribs are burst, the helm in pieces torn,
The Rudder lost, the Bark is surely gone;
8
In taking him into my heart and House,
(After long wading into his inmost thoughts,
And sounding all the Shallows of his Soul;)
Or there's some hidden Cause for this aversion.
Ric.
Pardon my Lord, the hasty zeal I've shown;
Some brandisht bolt be levell'd at my head,
And rivet me to earth, If I have ought
To move me thus but duty—and my Love.
[aside.
Enter Miranda.
But see your Daughter, Sir.
Mir.
I had forgot,
T'was rashly done to tear the Letter,
Then leave it here;
For which forgive me Credulous Alberto.
Ha! my Father here!
[Starts
Vi. R.
Miranda.
Mir.
My Lord.
V. R.
Why does a Father's presence thus surprize you?
But that's a trifle, to those greater wonders
Which amaze me more: Why Child this strange disorder?
What mean those swol'n eyes, and falling tears?
Is this the Picture of Triumphant Love,
Drest in the Visage of a black despair?
Are shours the Prologue to the rising Sun,
Or Harbingers of an ensuing Storm?
Ric.
My Plot has took; thanks to my witty Stars.
[aside.
V. R.
I cannot guess the meaning, sure Alberto
Must know the Cause, speak, was he here to day?
Mir.
He was my Lord,—Oh fatall interview!
V. R.
Fatall, to what? be quick and give me ease:
Is it your speedy Nuptials that are fatall?
By Heaven if such a thought were starting in you,
After all your Pleadings, and my Conquer'd Pride,
You should be Married in the other World.
Mir.
Alas! that heavy Curse comes now too late
Since Love has made me wretched beyond all hopes
Of ever being blest or happy more.
He came my Lord, but with a face so alter'd,
He rather seem'd the Ghost of my Alberto;
Then ey'd me as I were a Basilisk:
Revenge and Love jarr'd in his eyes a while,
9
To all the Endearments of my joyfull Love,
He answer'd only with a Gloomy silence:
But soon as I discover'd your consent,
He storm'd and rav'd aloud, then wisht me joy,
Talk't of Antonio, falshood and revenge,
Whilst all my tears inflam'd him but the more.
V. R.
I understand you not—Ha! Ricardo!
Ric.
You see my eye was piercing to discern.
V. R.
Speak once again, but speak it to the dead,
For they'le solve such a riddle soon as I.
Ric.
I am no Oedipus, yet can construe this:
He's false, or thinks her so, which is as bad, if not worse.
V. R.
Oh! give me patience Heaven for this affront,
Which thus reflects upon my Masters honour,
And wipes the Sacred Oyl from off his head.
There's ne're a proud Italian of you all
Shall dare to rouze my fiery Jealous rage
And scape it's fury.—Guards go seize the Traytor.
Mir.
Hold, hold Kind Sir, and hear your Daughter speak.
Vi. R.
Shame to my blood, woud'st thou excuse the Villain?
Breath but a word for him that dares abuse
Thy Fathers condescention and thy Love,
And I'le proclaim thee Bastard, and not mine.
Mir.
I must speak, for Love like mine's invincible,
And like the Palm suppress'd, does higher rise:
I wou'd excuse him too, but impossible!
Perhaps some busy fiend has been at work
To interrupt the Calm which we enjoy'd,
And Shipwrack all our hopes with one dire blast.
What Virtue's proof against the assaults of malice?
Vi. R.
That fiend is lodg'd within his treacherous breast,
There lies the Snake which stings my honour thus:
In vain you'd bribe my Justice with your tears
The Ballance must fall down and crush Alberto.
Mir.
Since you're resolv'd, oh hear me on my knees,
I beg of you this last, this only favour,
Load me with all the chains, his Crimes deserve,
And let my death glut your mistaken rage.
Vi. R.
Fond, Love-sick Fool, then woud'st thou dye for him?
Mir.
With as much Joy, as Martyrs for their Faith.
Dye to preserve him for anothers Arms,
And bless the Stroke which gives Alberto life.
Vi. R.
I finde my resolution Staggers! here
10
[Rise.
Ric.
'Tis well; and fortune hitherto's my friend,
Did he secure him, there wou'd be a search
[aside
Deep in the bottom of my close design
And all my industry were countermin'd.
If that my Loyallty were not ill manner'd
I wou'd advise you Sir, to curb your rage,
Till proof imprint the Stamp of Justice on't:
And if your Highness shall think me worthy
I'le be the Argus to your peace and honour.
Vi. R.
Thanks my Good friend: and to convince you that
Your service is not thrown away on me,
I accept of your advice; Alberto's free.
Now Daughter let us in, and sound the depth
Of all these wonders.—Ricardo wait me here.
[Exit Vice-Roy, Miranda and Attendants Ricardo Solus.
Ric.
What lucky Planet rul'd when I was born;
And mark'd me out a second Machiavell?
He Plotted but to gorge his vast ambition,
But I, to satisfie Revenge and Love,
The Darling Passions of the Powers above.
What's this, a torn note, expos'd to view?
I'le joyn the broken remnants close, and may
[Puts it together and starts.
From every piece sprout up a Hydra's head,
To wound and quite destroy the Man I hate.
Ha! Confusion to my eyes! what's this I see?
The very Basis of my Plot o'rethrown;
The pin pluck'd out which mov'd my Study'd Engine:
My counterfitted Challenge here, and torn.
What shou'd this mean?—Let me see!
[Muses.
No—Yes—Nay it shall be so:
I'le Counterplot the Coward,
And like the Toad suck poyson from each Verdant herb
And spit it in Alberto's face.
Enter the Vice-Roy unattended.
V. R.
Is there no friend, will ease me of my doubts?
None to redeem me from this Maze of thoughts
In which I'm lost? Ricardo thou seem'st Honest,
And can'st not without trouble see me thus:
11
Tho' ne're so harsh, tho't be a fatall Cord
Or twist of roapy Venom for a Clue.
Ric.
The fair Miranda has been at work for me,
And moulded him, as if she'd gag'd my wishes;
[aside
Credit me Sir, your grief distracts my Soul,
And all my Friendship must give way to duty.
My weak imagination can't present
A surer way to fathom his intents,
And punish 'em, then quite to cast him down
From that bright Heaven he once aspir'd to,
And bar all future claims unto your Daughter.
V. R.
Friendship still softly pleads within thy breast;
Has not the Villain baulk't that punishment,
In leaving her, and plagu'd me with his falshood?
This mildness in my Friend's almost a Crime
When Titius's Vulture, or the rowling Stone
Are nothing to the torments he deserves.
Were but my fears confirm'd by certain proof,
What Patron God shou'd guard him from my vengeance?
Tho' Thunder back't with lightning fenc'd him in,
And Charms as great as Circe's did protect him.
Nay—
Tho' bury'd from my rage as deep as Hell,
Yet wou'd I force the Lemnian Bulworks; Scale
The Flaming Wall's, then ransack all the world below
To find him out, and having found the Traytor,
Tear out his false, disloyall, treacherous heart,
And grind it into dust, to heal my wounded honour.
Ric.
This rage surprizes me: I thought your Daughter
Had fully satisfied and cured your Jealousy,
And nothing now remain'd but to revenge his Crimes.
V. R.
By all that's good she has heighten'd it Ricardo,
Her tameness has but wounded me the more:
Tho' I had offer'd all the world to bribe her,
She wou'd but tell me, there was some mistake
And speak the rest in tears.
Ric.
'Tis wondrous strange,
That Duty urg'd her not; when other women.
Can speak enough unbrib'd, or uncommanded.
But I have happily found out a way
T'untie this Gordian knot.
Vi. R.
Speak to the purpose.
Ric.
T'was Fate alone, who pitti'd your concern,
12
When you were gone, I found this torn note
Which put together spells a Challenge—
Read it
With this back-blow I wound 'em both at once.
[aside.
Vi. R.
reads.]
Altho' the fair Miranda loves you not,
Yet I'le not bear a Rivall tho' unhappy:
Either renounce all title to her Love,
Or meet me single in the Parade
At six this evening, where I'le expect you
With your Sword to do me right, and
Satisfy the honour of th'enrag'd.
Antonio.
Ha! what shou'd this mean? my wonder but encreases
Still the more by this misterious Challenge:
How cou'd Alberto but in honour go,
When such a dangerous invitation call'd him?
Still the more by this misterious Challenge:
How cou'd Alberto but in honour go,
When such a dangerous invitation call'd him?
Ric.
Pardon me Sir, my courage wou'd not blush
To wave that Duell, which my Love forbids,
And more your Highness orders put a bar to.
But here's such treason, hell ne're hatch'd a greater,
So black a Crime, my Virtue shrinks to name.
V. R.
It must be monstrous then, if fear'd to name
Ric.
Monstrous indeed!
Alas! you take this for Antonio's hand
V. R.
Antonio's, yes, why is it not?
Ric.
By Heaven and Earth 'tis mine as much as his.
V. R.
Then there's some horrid plot conceal'd in this:
Tell me the meaning good Ricardo, and
[Gives Ricardo the Letter.
Construe these damn'd infernal Characters.
Ric.
I think the words need no interpretation,
The meaning's writ in plain downright Italian,
(It seems he has not politicks enough
For a dissembling, false, and treacherous Villain)
Sir, this is but a Counterfeit of his,
With a pretence of fair Miranda's falshood
To varnish or'e his own ingratitude.
V. R.
'Tis so, 'tis plain; ye Powers, and must I Live
To see my honours death? to feel my blood
Thus trampl'd on by an abandon'd Slave?
Ric.
It works as I cou'd wish.
[aside.
V. R.
Sure there must be
In young Antonio some grounds for this,
Some glimmering flashes of a growing flame;
By all the Gods I'le Crown his utmost wishes,
13
O where has all my injur'd greatness slept?
In what dull Lethe has my pride been drown'd?
Rouze up my Slugger'd fury, wake my rage,
Act such revenge shall fright the wondring Age;
Be like a Torrent on Alberto hurl'd,
And like the Deluge to the Infant world.
[Exit.
Ricardo Solus.
Ric.
Thanks my kinde Stars, ye Bawds unto my plot.
This rage will countenance Alberto's murder,
And make it seem an act of Loyallty.
But first I must expose this to the flames;
Then on to build the Fabrick I design
Mount Pelion upon Ossa; bravely done,
Thus to ascend the Region of the Sun,
And see my glorious web, by second Causes spun.
Finis Actus Primi.
| The Mistakes, or, The False Report | |