University of Virginia Library

The Fourth ACT.

SCENE I.

The Pallace.
Enter Vice-Roy, and Ricardo.
V. R.
The Mornings chearfull Ray, now guilds the World:
And darts a joyfull Omen to my breast:
The Early Lark, tunes his shrill notes to Hymen,
Whilst every Bird does warble out the Chorus,
And deafen all the Murmurings of my grief.

Ric.
'Tis true, great Sir, but yet this glittering form
May be a painted Cloud that ushers in a Storm.

V. R.
Can you suspect your Masters word Ricardo
That thus you mutter out your brooding fears?
Is that a posture for a happy Bridegroom
Clad in that gloomy Visage, and with eyes
Fixt on the Earth, whilst Mounting to the skies?

Ric.
Has not last Nights uproar, yet reach'd your ears
Which so allarm'd your Loyall Subjects fears?

V. R.
It has not yet.

Ric.
Then I must be the Informer;
(Wou'd Heaven, my duty, wou'd excuse my silence;)
Whether their plots have all turn'd head upon 'em,
And so compell'd 'em to this act, I know not;
But once more they have combin'd Sir, to deceive you,
Hoodwink your reason, and ecclipse your Judgment,
And make your ignorance patronize their Crimes.

V. R.
As how?

Ric.
Just as the Pallace Clock struck one,
I am inform'd there was a busteling noise,
Like the first puffing of an Angry wind,
Which swells and bursts at last into a Storm:
Strait clashing Swords disturb'd the Slumbring night
Which (eccho'd by a dreadfull voice of Murder)
Chas'd Gentle Morpheus from the Princes eyes,
(For by design 'twas done near her Apartment)
She rose, urg'd by her pitty to their danger,
And with a few Attendants, strait descended:
But (heavens!) what was her wonder when she saw
The two disloyal friends engag'd in Fight?

V. R.
Alberto, and Antonio!

Ric.
The same, my Lord.

V. R.
What should the meaning of their quarrell be?

Ric.
You'le please to judge Sir, when you hear the rest:
To Countenance her pitty, Alberto receiv'd a wound,
Which when she mourn'd for and Enquir'd the Cause
He with a whining Scorn accus'd her Cruelty,
And bid her help Antonio, whom she lov'd;
He seem'd amaz'd at the new Jealousy
And ask't the grounds: the Note was then examin'd,
Which he (as well he might) deny'd to be his hand;
Next comes a daubing Scene of flattering Joy,
Alberto kneels, and weeping, begs her pardon
As all had been a Mistery to him:
Nay more (oh heavens what Impudence is this?)
They lay the crime, the spring of all to me,
And have design'd this Morning to accuse me,
When he shall beg Miranda Sir, of you.

V. R.
Beg her of me, sure 'tis Impossible!
That they should dare to look me in the face;
As well they might behold an Angry Jove
When grim revenge sits furrow'd on his brow,
Ready to scatter ruine on th'Assailers,
All Lemnos brandisht in his hands at once.

Ric.
But they've a Mist to lay before your eyes,
Will damp the Force of your avenging Thunder,
And melt your rage, to a refreshing dew.

V. R.
'Tis moulded proof, against their weak attempts;
But to begin, I promis'd you my daughter
And with her take my heart for ever.
[Embraces him.
Go call the Princess here.

[Going out.
Attend.
Great Sir, she has prevented me, she's here.

V. R.
Hell and Confusion! what's this I see
Or my sense fails, or 'tis Alberto with her.
Enter Alberto leading Miranda.
By all my wrongs 'tis he! oh my salt bloud
Burst, burst your Channels, over-flow your Banks,
And let my veins be fill'd with Liquid fire,
Quite to devour this Gorgon, that unmans me,
Thus let all Villains dye.

[offers to kill Alb. Ric. interposes.
Ric.
Hold Sacred Sir.

V. R.
Ricardo off, for 'tis in vain to stop me.

Ric.
My Life Sir be the forfeit for th'offence,
Consider Sir who 'tis, that does oppose you,
'Tis I your Faithfull Slave, who wou'd rather dye
Then see your honour blemish'd by this rashness:
How wou'd the censuring World condemn you Sir,
If in your rage you shou'd Sentence one untry'd,
And be your self the Executioner;
Not but I wish his death, cause he deserves it,
But to dye thus wou'd make him Innocent
And fame secure, he's punisht but by halves.

Alb.
Why this contention for a wretched life?
Villain I know it is the game you hunt for:
[to Ric.
But yet you think 'tis not toil'd enough for death:
You wou'd have me linger out a Hell on Earth
See you possest of all Miranda's Charms:
But Traytor know, I have a Sword can reach thee,
And spite of Loyallty, respect, or Duty,
Rip out the heart that violates my Love
And cool the warmth which nourishes thy flame.

Ric.
He has guest my wishes.

[aside
Mir.
Yes, hellish Monster, know,
There's yet a greater bar to oppose thy way,
A Rock of Adamant, and so Impenetrable
That thou Villain with Legions like thy self,
No, nor the Hell thou carry'st in thy breast,
Can ever melt, or force away.

V. R.
Insolent Pair! but now they've doom'd themselves,
And by my Masters Soul, they both shall dye.

Alb.
Pardon, Great Sir, those unbecoming words
Forc'd by a just resentment of my wrongs;
I mean't not to defend that life which you had proscrib'd,
Thus I Surrender it unto your Justice.

[Kneels & lays his Sword at the V. R. feet
Ric.
We'l take the forfeit Sir, you need not doubt.

[Ric. takes it up.
Alb.
But to dye silent were a guilt too great,
To leave you in a wilde of treachery
Lost to your honour, govern'd by an abject Slave,
And fair Miranda Subject to his treason:
That I confess does make my tongue unruly,
Oh Sir, forgive that beauteous Innocence,
And leave her will as heaven has made it, free:
And here I swear by yon bright Sun that Shines,
And by th'Eternal Mover of the Spheres,
To hush this rising tempest in my Breast,
And fall a willing Victim to her peace;

Mir.
Oh my Alberto, your zeal is too unkinde,
Think not your Death can give Miranda ease,
For here I swear, by all the Powers above,
Your life and mine shall have an equall date.

V. R.
Damn his hypocrisy, and thy foolish fondness,
by heaven the Spaniard is not in thee Girl,
But I delay: Guards seize that Impious Traitor.

[Guards seize Alerbto
Alb.
Yet hear me Sir, before you throw away
That precious Gem upon a thing so vile,
And smear that Diamonds lustre with so foul a soil.

V. R.
Silence that croaking voice, Perfidious Monster!
He is my Son, and each affront is mine:
But to inhance thy mighty sum of woes
Live to behold thy Juno snatch'd away
Thy Soul rack'd in a Dungeon by delay,
A Cloud of darkness for the Suns bright Ray.
But yet in pitty, she shall stay a while
And all thy sorrows with her tears beguile.
Pitty? Yes Italian pitty! may her eyes
Each attome of thee, make their Sacrifice,
Be, like two Basilisks, which may devour
At each remembrance of their cruell Power,
Then flash thee dead, and kill thee every hour.

[Exit with Attendants.
Ric.
Why this is generous to spare his life:
Nay, let him talk long as he might be heard,
It is not I'me unjust then, but his fate.
[Manent Guards.
Well, I'le away to young Antonio,
Tell him—what?—let me see!—his Mistriss's dead,
Slain by Alberto:—this will work him up,
And of his friendship, make an useless Cypher,
Which I'le fill up with horrid black revenge.
Then in compassion, I'le release Alberto
(Whom I'le infect with some new found Chymæra)
And grant 'em both an enterview;
By this I make sure my game on either hand,
For both will seek to excuse me to the Vice-Roy:
Thus like the hidden hand of fate I work,
Kill and destroy whilst none can see the blow,
And friend and Mistriss be each others foe.

[Exit.
Alb.
Oh my Miranda, 'twas a harsh decree
That I must never, never see thee more
Ne're (blest with Love, and surfeiting with joy)
Lean on the rising pillows of thy breast,
And there in gentler raptures dream the rest:
Credit me Madam, but 'tis wondrous sad.

Mir.
Do not despair Alberto, my best, and only Love,
For Fortunes Cruelty, is as inconstant as her favour.
But let her vent her malice, still there's hope;
Time's but a rowling tide, which flows a while,
Stays not, but strait with murmuring joy does ebb,
Into the Ocean of Eternity:
Thither we'le launch; there Landed on the shore
Above the reach of Fate, or cruell Fathers,
We'le spend an Immortality of Love.

Alb.
Oh my Soul! my blest Angell speak again,
Thy charming words and sight can cure despair,
They lull my griefs asleep, and make me tame
And I am all joy, all extasy again.
But oh, I never must behold thee more
An angry Demon hurries me away
And drags me from the Heaven I now possess;
That thought renews my grief, and galls my heart;
There I confess my Courage shrinks and dyes,
More than when death was in my view in War,
My crowded breast teem'd with a thousand joys,
Which in an Instant are all made abortive,
But yet a single plague's too small for me,
For heaven has doom'd Miranda to a Villain.
That beauteous Casket to be rifl'd by a Slave.

Mir.
Can you then still suspect my Faith Alberto?
But since (oh torture!) 'tis the last proof which I can give,
Hear me ye Powers, and you Alberto hear me,
If ever I consent to be Ricardo's
Tho' all the Tortures hell can e're invent
Combine to force my will, oh may I never—

Alb.
Forbear, oh forbear that Cruel Sentence on thy self,
I have been impious, but forgive me heaven;
And oh Miranda live, altho' Ricardo's;
What hast thou done, that heaven shou'd punish thee?
Or how hast thou deserv'd to share my griefs?

Mir.
Can Love then be so bad a Councellour,
Or can Alberto wish me so unhappy?
Perhaps you doubt the frailty of my Sex,
And think that death can shake my Female valour;
But know, when danger runs in a Carreer;
Love takes the wing, and soars above all fear.

Alb.
By heaven I doubt thee not; but do not rob
The world, by taking all that's good away:

Mir.
When you are gone, what's left that's worth my stay?

Attend.
My Lord, your time is past, you must to Prison:

Alb.
I will; but one look more and then I've done:
Here must I take a long farewell to Love.
[kisses her hand.
Oh my Miranda, when the Fates allow,
That false Ricardo must possess thy heart,
When he shall reap the harvest of my joys,
Give but one sigh, one tear, to poor departed me,
And it will crown my wandring shade with peace.

Mir.
Think not of dying.

Alb.
Yes, I must Miranda;
For Death's the only blessing I have left:
Yet must I blame the malice of my Stars.
Then when I'de wandred thro' the Coasts of night,
To seek some comfortable streak of Light;
Then when my eye had Paradice in view,
Thus to Ecclipse my rising Sun anew:
Or as a Vulture when he flies the round,
To seize some spotless Dove, which having found,
With greedy joy he mounts up to the skies,
Whilst he does Revell on his lovely prize,
And with a scornfull Glance the World despise;
When strait some well-arm'd Eagle stops his Flight,
Forces the trembling Quarry from his sight,
And hurles him head-long to the shades of Night.
So, when I had reach'd thee thro' a dreadful maze,
And after all my doubts, my Soul found ease;
Midst of my Triumphs for my glorious prey,
The Tyrant Power does snatch thee quite away.

[Exeunt severally
SCENE A Garden.
Enter Antonio, and Astella in man's Cloaths.
Ast.
My Country Sir, I've told you is Sicily;
Whence banisht by my wants, I'me hither come
To find relief; my name is Florimo.

Ant.
What's this to me? I prithee leave me Boy.

Ast.
Alas I cannot Sir: I've heard so much
Of your Renown and Generosity,
That I must stay, and win your favour.
Besides I've heard you are a Lover Sir,
And such a one I wou'd desire to serve:
Sure this will sound him.

[Aside
Ant.
I was indeed a happy Lover once!

[Sighs.
Ast.
Ha! Once did he say? oh heavens, then 'tis too true:

[aside.
Ant.
But now my Love is gone I know not whither:
My Dear Astella, if thou'rt fled to heaven,
Oh let me know't, that I may follow thee;
If still on earth, I'le pray the whispering winds
That they'de conduct me to thy dark abode,
I'le beg the Trees to bow their leafy heads
And point me out the Mansion of my Love.
What shall I think? for to suspect thy truth,
Or doubt Alberto's words, were sure a Crime.

Ast.
I know not what this musing does portend,
But I will try him once again. My noble Lord,
Cast not a wretched youth to the wide world,
Who cannot live a moment absent from you.
Why are you sad? Give me to know the Cause
[Kneels.
I'le sit and sing and charm your griefs asleep,
Lye at your feet like weeping Philomell,
And hush your sorrows with my pleasing airs:
And when the morning dawns, I'le be your Lark,
To wellcome with my joyfull notes the coming day,
Thus we'le perform, and pass the time away;
Thus spend the melancholy hours, making grief a pleasure,
And scorning all the follies of the laughing world.

Ant.
Such pleasing softness did I never hear;
And still the more I look, the more I still desire;
In every feature methinks I read Astella;
The very air that bears the charming sounds,
Ecchoes Astella to my wondring ears.
Rise gentle Youth, so sweet an advocate
Must needs obtain the cause tho' ne're so hard:
If then (kind Florimo) you'd share in a disorder'd heart,
And be the sad Companion of my woes—
But do not, for they'l blast thy tender form,
And wither all thy blooming hopes to death.

Ast.
Alas 'tis all the blessing I wou'd wish
To share your woes, since I'me already
More unfortunate and wretched then you er'e can be.

Ant.
Oh 'tis impossible! but tell me how thou art wretched.

Ast.
By Love that soft disturber of my peace,
And by my friend.

Ant.
Grant heaven it be not so with me.

[aside.
Ast.
Doubt not your Mistriss safety, nor your Friend,
If conscious innocence says you love her still.

Ant.
Love her! thy silly question stabs my very Soul;
None can behold Astella and not love her:
Not Orpheus when he charm'd the fiery gates of hell,
And gain'd an entry to the vast abiss
Had half that Love for his Euridice;
Nor when he rescu'd from the God of night
His beauteous prize, and the same hour lost her,
Felt half my hell of torture and despair.

Ast.
Oh charming words! which like Promethean fire,
Kindles the embers of expiring life and love;
And like the Arabian Chimist can extract
A Phænix from the ashes of her Sire!
My Joy's too great to be contain'd:
Here let me breath my Soul out at your feet
[Kneeling.
And fly an Angell to the other world,
Refin'd by so divine a good as yours.

Ant.
What means the Youth? Rise, and resolve my doubts,
Why does my declaration thus affect you?

Ast.
Tune to his voice, ye musick of the spheres,
To finde such virtue 'mongst corrupted Man,
Is sure a Subject for Fames golden Trumpet;
To find your Love like Vestall fire guarded,
(When every foe does lend a breath against it)
Safe and unsully'd in that hollow'd Shrine.

Ant.
So nice a sence of virtue from a Boy
Is strange, and must proceed from something stranger.

Ast.
I Swore to wander thro' the spacious world
(Till death wou'd put an end to all my woes)
To finde some Lover of so clear a truth,
The same when slighted, or his Mistriss dead;
And now I've found the noblest of our Sex
I'le be your Servant, or your Sacrifice,
And never part, till parted from my self.

Ant.
I am amaz'd at such surprizing words,
But 'tis a pleasing wonder: Come my Boy,
I'le crown thy wishes, thou'rt mine for ever,
[Embraces him.
Instruct my Virtue, that seeing thee I may
Read Lectures of Astella every day;
But yet I want to know the Story of thy life,
The many wrongs thou hast sustain'd and pass'd
And all the pretty murmurings of thy grief.

Ast.
By a long Siege I Storm'd my Mistriss heart,
And took the Guarded Fortress of her Love;
Next when i'de got my only friends consent,
The Brother of my destin'd Bride Lestella,
No Isthmus seem'd to bar me from my joys:
When on the fatall Dawn before our Marriage,
Urg'd by I know not what mistake, my friend
Went to his Mistriss, call'd her false and perjur'd;
Said, he or I, that Night must leave the World;
At night I heard of his Imprisonment,
Attended with a thundering peal of Curses,
From the fair Mistriss of my Friend: At length
I by my vows to free him had appeas'd her.
Madded with rage I did mind my own
Who with a charming grief reproach'd my falshood;
I had not time to answer her Complaints,
But flung away in hast unto my friend
Whom I releas'd, but he escap'd my sight
Strait I receiv'd from him a dreadfull Note,
Which stab'd me with the News of my Lestilla's death,
Who fell a Victim to his Jealousy.
Despairing, I abandon'd Sicily,
And careless of my fate, am hither come,
To wander like a banish'd Criminal quite forlorn.
This sure will try him since my other fails.

[Aside
Ant.
What words are these, or is it but a dream?
A Vision of Astella, thus adorn'd,
[aside
Who comes to try the truth of her suspicions?
If that my wonder (gentle youth) wou'd give me leave
I'de say thou hast sav'd me the unwellcome trouble
Of telling thee the Story of my life,
Since thou hast so truly weav'd it with thy own.

Ast.
Not so I hope Sir, is your Mistriss dead?

Ant.
There sticks my sate, and leaves me in a maze:
If dead, what then remains, but strait to follow her?

Ast.
You speak, my Lord, in riddles;
If she be dead, you wou'd dye to follow her,
And at the same time own you Love her not.

Ant.
Thou dost not understand me right my Boy:
Be witness all ye Powers that knew our hearts,
How much I lov'd that dear departed Saint?

Ast.
Departed! whither?

Ant.
Oh that I cou'd resolve thee!
My Friend enrag'd told me he had slain her,
But soon recanted, and I as soon believ'd,
Yet now some strange suggestions press my heart anew,
And fix my wandring fancy to her Image.

Ast.
I hope he'le not repent of this kind grant:
[Aside.
Shall I my Lord, to sooth your sorrows, Sing?

Ant.
Do my Boy, whilst I repose me on this bank
And bear a part with thee.

Both sing. After the Song she speaks.
Ast.
Rise; Rise my Lord, I see one coming hither,
With a grave pace, as big with some design.

Ant.
It is Ricardo; Florimo away
And wait me in the next walk.
[Exit Astella.
Enter Ricardo musing.
This is the Cause I fear of all our dire mistakes,
Now Studying some new Plot: I'le observe him.

Ric.
Thus Virtue's ever clouded with disgrace,
A Princes favour cannot dart a beam,
But on a Barren or Infectious land,
And always must be partiall in his choice.

Ant.
He mutters State-Affairs: but let him on.

Ric.
Therefore the two young Heroes of the Court,
Envy my Honour, and sicken at my greatness,
As if my rise must be upon their Necks
But still my Virtue shall outbrave their little malice:
I will convince the unbelieving world,
There is a man that can be great and good at once,
And then retire to Solitude for ever.

Ant.
Why this is strange!

Ric.
But oh that cannot be—
There lyes some Mistery in the womb of Night,
Which Loyalty Commands me to unravell,
Besides to leave Antonio's Virtue toil'd,
Deluded by his friends Hypocrisy—
But that's a Plot, and I'me a base Informer
There's my reward—but Virtue pays it self.

Ant.
Each word does swell my wonder!

Ric.
Alberto's Actions must have some design,
But let Heaven be Judge of that, not I.
This fresh account of Horrour I've receiv'd
Antonio must know—Yes 'tis resolv'd,
Tho' for it he call me undermining Traytor,
Yet I'le respect my conscience, not his words.

Ant.
Each words a Thunderbolt, and strikes me dead,
No double-meaning can be hid in this.

Ric.
Who's that? my Lord Antonio?

Ant.
The same.

Ric.
How does your Lordship?

Ant.
Why well I think Ricardo;

Ric.
Long may you be so:

Ant.
I thank you Sir. But good Ricardo,
If I may be so bold, what were your thoughts
Employ'd about?

Ric.
'Tis an Important bus'ness which I think of,
How virtue does decay in every age,
And in particular that Cordiall Friendship
How Pylades's Examples are quite forgot,
And how the Sign of Gemini above,
Is copied ill by Mortalls here below.

Ant.
The Consequence.

Ric.
Therefore my Lord, beware
How you permit a seeming Friend to creep too close,
Lest in the bottom there shou'd lurk an Adder.

Ant.
Be plainer in your Counsell.

Ric.
Yes, too plain;
Too plain I fear for your repose!

Ant.
Ha! my repose!

Ric.
Yes, so I said:
Your friend Alberto (mark me well) is false
The Wounds he gave, but seemingly he heal'd,
For they still rankle, fester, and eat the deeper,
And may in time destroy you.

Ant.
Oh take heed
You come not with your false deluding Beacons
To warn my easy nature from the Sands
That you may split my friendship on a Rock;
For if thou dost, death, hell, and ruine,
And all their black attendants shall not save thee:
You have had the mask on long enough,
Therefore now unveil thy self Ricardo,
And show the villain in his native dye:

Ric.
This I expected; and therefore take my leave,
An honest man is never safe at Court;
Sir, you may find flatterers enough
To tell you what you wou'd believe, not what you ought to know:
Who'l varnish all your losses with a smile;
Nay, make you think the Sun shines in a storm,
When thickest clouds do interpose their shade,
And when the heavens are all in mutiny, rain fire
Rain blood upon your better part, your second self:
But he's a fool, who to convince another
(Whose looks speak hatred, and his words proclaim it)
Will hazard both his person, and his fame:
Such bigotted honour shall have no Prosolite of me.

[Going.
Ant.
Stay Sir, for to secure that fame you prize so much
It will concern you to inform me more.

Ric.
Not when I know, I shall not be believ'd.

Ant.
Now by my Sword, I'le force it from your tongue,
And if thou prov'st not every word thou utterest,
I'le hurl a heavier load of misery upon thee
Than that which Atlas with his weighty Globe
Does groan beneath.

Ric.
How fond is Man, and easy to beleive,
When words are daub'd with flattery, and mask'd with Love,
But truth in its plain habit will not pass:
My Lord, to shew how I despise your threats
I'le ease my conscience of the mighty Secret,
But arm your self against the fierce assault
For horror dwells with every fatall word.

Ant.
Why dost thou kill me with such cruell doubts?

Ric.
I will no more:—the fair Astella, Sir—

Ant.
Astella, Speak; the very name's a Charm.

Ric,
It must be Sir the name; that's all that's left.

Ant.
Ha! what of her?

Ric.
Why she is murder'd, base and barbarously murder'd.

Ant.
Hell and confusion!

Ric.
By her own Brother's orders, murder'd.

Ant.
Patience ye Gods, oh give me patience heaven!
One moments patience, and I'le beg no more.
By all things Sacred, in those fatall words,
Or one, or both of us are doom'd to dye;
If they be false, there's something worse then death,
Nay (if possible) then Damnation shall sure attend thee,
If true, then I'me the Victim.

Ric.
Hear the rest:
A rough hewn fellow, Servant to Alberto,
Thus with a penitential look, accosted me:
Sir, by my Masters threats, I've been compell'd
To Act a little piece of Villany,
But my ill-natur'd Conscience flying in my face,
I thought to ease it by Confession,
I slew a Lady whom he order'd me
Veil'd in a Wood; but that was nothing Sir,
Till I discover'd it to be Astella,
My old dead Masters only Daughter.

Ant.
Furries and Devils tear the Barbarous Villain
Oh I am all a burning Ætna here within!
But if thou prov'st it, I am satisfied.

Ric.
Let the Revenge confirm it which I took
Impatient Virtue forc'd me to the deed,
I slew him strait, without as much as asking
Where the untimely Sacrifice was laid.

Ant.
Enough, I am confirm'd she's gone.
Oh Tyrant-friend, was she a Subject for your rage,
Cou'd not those glorious rays from her fair eyes
Melt down thy icy temper to compassion?
But I forget, 'tis I'me her murderer,
And therefore thus will pay the cruel debt.

[Offers to kill himself.
Ric.
Hold, hold my Lord!

[Ric. hinders him.
Ant.
Wilt thou again give edge to my suspitions,
By hindring me of my desir'd bliss?
Death doubly is my due.
The morning wheels to gloomy night again,
To give directions where I shou'd reside;
The Sun seems like a faint and beamless fire
To warn the expiring Taper of my Life,
And all but you conspire to work my Joy.

Ric.
By all that's good, I will not oppose it,
But yet you are not ripe enough for death,

Ant.
Not when despair does call me hence?

Ric.
Why no.
Are you Italian born, or some hot Frenchman,
Who when capricious fortune frowns upon him
Strait punishes her crime upon himself;
At least since she does sit above our reach,
Let us revenge it on her instruments.

Ant.
Touch not that string, for it inflames my heart,
And kindles wild-fire in my troubl'd breast;
I wou'd not think upon the Villain more,
And therefore I wou'd cease to think at all.

Ric.
'Tis wonderous well! how will the censuring world
Say Naples is a Den of Caniballs,
Where Paricide and murder is a sport
And go unpunish't by the better sort?
By Mars your tameness does unspirit me
But I'le away, and take revenge my self,
Since such a Cause shou'd arm the world against him.

Enter Astella.
Ant.
Stay, for I feel a glowing heat within me
Eat up my friendship, and I am all on fire.

Ast.
What shou'd this mean?

Ric.
Cherish the noble flame
And let your wrongs heighten the generous rage:
If Alexander for a Fav'rites loss
(Who perisht by a Natural Enemy)
Made all the Eastern World his Funeral pile,
And glutted Death with crowded Hecatombs?
What shou'd you do, who see a Mistriss slain,
Slain by a Man, who call'd himself your friend?
Death, Hell, and Vengeance will you suffer it?
Methinks my Arm does tremble to my Sword,
And by instinct Commands me to unsheath it.

Ant.
No, no, the brave Revenge belongs to me:
Bloud, talk of bloud; I will have bloud Ricardo,
But there's a Prison bars him from my fury,
Away Impediments, you shall not hinder,
For tho' he speeds away to Hell, i'le after;
Shoot like a flaming Vulture thro' the dark abyss,
Till I might fix my beak in his false heart:
Nay tho' the Christal Gates of Heaven were ope
And waiting to receive my Soul to joy,
In Hell i'de linger an Eternity,
That I might double all Alberto's Plagues,
And make it hotter with the Flames I bear.

Ast.
Alas that Villain has infected him,
But I've an Antidote will expell the poyson.

Ric.
Why this my Lord becomes your injuries:
Since you'r resolv'd i'le further your revenge;
Wait in this Garden at the approach of Night,
And i'le take care to send Alberto to you.

Ant.
O kind Ricardo, in this obligation
You've reach'd the utmost bounds of my desire:
Wheel on the never-tir'd Post of Heaven,
Fly swiftly to thy wanton Goddess Arms
That I may fly to my revenge: Farewell,
When next we meet, expect to see me chang'd,
Roab'd like the Setting Sun in bloudy red,
Or pale as sickning Stars, and as spent Meteors dead.

[Exit.
Ast.
I'le after him, and learn the mistery.

[Exit.
Ric.
Fly to thy ruine, fond believing Fool,
Thou know'st not what it is to take revenge,
For Nemesis delights in Woods, not Cities,
In dark Cabals, and not in open War:
Yes my new friend I'le send Alberto to you,
And reconcile your differing Constitutions,
Both shall breath nought but sulphur and destruction;
Therefore some new Chimæra I will study
Which his friend Alberto must be sent to kill.

Enter Lopez, drest like Alberto.
Lop.

Well, now I have gotten these Cloaths on, methinks I'me as great
a Person as my Master, and for ought I know, 'tis the comely person within
makes the Gentleman, according to the Proverb, fine Birds make fine
Feathers: Let me see—

[surveighs himself.
Ric.
If I shou'd tell him that his Mistress's false;
But stay that Topick's grown too obsolete.

Ric. walks off as in the Garden.
Lop.

Clean Limbs, handsome gait, Noble appearance! pitty these qualifications
shou'd be thrown away upon a Serving-Man: Well, if my face
answers these, 'twill grieve me to retire to my primitive Rascallity, and
that this bulk of Nobility shou'd dwindle to a Valet.
[pulls out a Glass.
Heavens defend me! Seignior Lopez I shou'd as soon think it were an Angel:
now will I exercise my parts upon my self, for such an Object must needs
inspire Oratory, tho' I am brim-full of it already. Seignior, if Jupiter had
borrow'd one of your eyes for a dark Lanthorn, he might have fought his
Enemies with a double advantage: (answers)
O dear Sir, a little clear
and sharp indeed I must confess; I make use of 'em sometimes for my diversion
to wound and kill poor silly Ladies, but for the rest—Nay good
sweet Seignior, you ravish me with the Excellency of your gestures: every
part of you dances, as it were, to the Musique of the Spheres, and swims
like the Lambent fires above in a Cælestial motion. O Seignior—

Enter Ricardo.

Ha! interrupted? what Malicious Star envi'd me the happiness of hearing
my self prais'd by so accomplisht a person of honour as—Seignior
Lopez.

Ric.
Confusion! what, Alberto here, and free?
Or does my wandring sense deceive me?
That it is he, 'tis plain; but how escap'd,
Or if escap'd, how venturing to stay here,
I must confess amazes me to think!

Lop.
I'le vex this saucy fellow for disturbing me.

[walks caresly by Ricardo.
Ric.
I'me on a Rack, till I can learn the meaning:
With what a haughty negligence he bears himself?

Lop.

I have a good mind to tell him to his face, he's a very uncivil person,
and to make good what I said, if he threatens to beat me, i'le beg his
pardon. But then he'de discover who I am: no, no, that must not be.

Ric.
There's no way left to sound this mistery,
But to begin the harrangue which I've prepar'd.
My Lord I have a secret of Importance—
Still the same port, that scornfull gay behaviour!
In what a mist of Errour have I been?
A Sacrifice here Staulks in State before me
And sleeping vice, still dreads to give the blow.
The place is silent, and the Aiding Trees,
With bended branches cover the offence;
Besides Antonio's rage will cloak the deed
And they'l condemn him for the Murderer:
It shall be so; the next turns his last:
So—
[runs at Lopez, and Lopez falls.
End thus thy Pride and Love together.

Lop.
Ha betray'd! my honour wounded?
Help, Murder, help: I am kill'd, I'me dead! oh!

Ric.
His life is fled away with that last groan:
Now fly Ricardo, manage well this game,
And future Ages shall extoll thy fame.

[Exit.
Lop.

So, is he gone? pox of his kindness: what's here! My voice has
alarm'd some of the Courtiers, but I'le send 'em away like fools as they
come, I warrant 'em.

[lies down.
Enter 3 or 4 Gentlemen, Fabio and Don Silvio.
1. Gent.
This way the dreadfull voice directed us.

2. Gent.
And here's the occasion; Heavens! 'tis Alberto!

1. Gent.
What horrid Mistery is this! how came he free?

2. Gent.
And murder'd too? a Riddle by my Soul.
Let's to the Vice-Roy, who walks i'th' Garden,
For 'tis too deep for us to dive into.

[Exeunt.
Lop.

So, I find I shall have now the whole Court about me: but i'le
prepare my self to receive 'em: I may thank my self for letting the sword
run betwixt my arms. I had been spoil'd else; I think I defended my
self as if I had had eyes behind. Well now for my Glass; I fear this bus'ness
has disorded me—pox o' your ill-breeding to spoil a good face,
and tumble ones perriwig and Crevat: I must not be seen in this
pickle, therefore i'le go home and new vamp my self. A plague of this Nobility,
if for a fine Coat one must be continually in danger of having his
throat cut, or spitted thro' the loins like a Spar-rib of Pork. I'de rather
be hang'd than dye an untimely death, there's no satisfaction in't; but see
they are coming, 'twere best for me to be gone, lest I be taken, and put
in the bakers pulpit for counterfeiting.

[Exit.
Enter Vice-Roy with Attendants.
V. R.
Impossible! it cannot be Alberto.

1. Gent.
Let your own eyes convince you Sir.
[looks about.
Ha! where's is the dead man, fled away?
Some hungry Devill sure has seiz'd on him.

V. R.
Am I a Subject of your Follies Slaves?

2. Gent.
Pray Sir believe us: Alberto did lye here;
But whither it was done designedly,
To colour his escape from Prison,
And cousen us with his pretended death
That you might cease pursuit, I know not.

1. Gent.
Or else perhaps the Murderers fearing
His corps being sound, (a narrow search shou'd be about it)
Convey'd it hence and buried it:
But these two Gentlemen can witness,
That they too saw him dead.

3d. & 4th.
My Lord we did.

V. R.
'Tis strange, but yet I will believe it;
Death he deserv'd for his Ingratitude:
But tho' my passion boil'd a while, I'me glad
He met it from another hand, not mine:
For now with safety I bestow my Daughter,
And crown desert with what it long has sought.
Perhaps it may remove Miranda's Scruples,
And death may set her heart at Liberty:
Thus Providence is always heavens Avenger,
And weilds the Sword of Justice 'gainst th'unjust.
How'ere the Great resolve, and wise debate,
She rules alone, our happiness or fate.

[Exeunt Omnes.