University of Virginia Library

ACT III.

SCENE I.

Enter Dake reading a Letter. Fidalbo at distance.
Duke.
‘Your Dutchess was Daughter to fair Bianca,
‘For Beauty fam'd at Court, when I was Prince.
‘My Youth, and greatness of my Quality,
‘After much pain, and long Courtship,
‘Prevail'd upon her Chastity.
I find my Wife is of a coming Breed.
Reads.
‘Our practice was carry'd with such secrecy;
‘That our Love remains yet undiscover'd.
‘Alouisia was born, Bianca recover'd strength,
‘Retir'd to a Monastery, turn'd Penitent and dy'd.
The Daughter copies the Mother exactly;
Sin and Repent is both their faculties.
Reads.
‘I wou'd not have reveal'd this Secret,
‘Had not your Letter press'd the knowledge of her Birth.
‘To morrow-I'll hunt with you, and discourse at large.
Enter Alfonso.
My Lord Alfonso I thank you—
Your return was what I most desir'd:
But this Letter you bring clears many doubts,
And gives my mind much ease.

Alf.
Had not the Dukes Commands return'd me back,
My own inclinations had brought me to ye.

Duke.
I took care in mine, not to lose you, Alphonso.

Alf.
I am bid to let you know, he'll hunt with you
To morrow early in your own Park.

Duke.
I will shew him Sport; he shall see Game.
Fidalbo, inclose this Letter under a Cover,
Then carry it to the Dutchess:
Tell her, I remember my promise,
And after Supper it shall be perform'd:
No business now shall interrupt our pleasure,
We'll spend our short minutes to the purpose:
I have order'd Musick for this days Entertainment.
Sit, my Lord, and be attentive.

Duke.
My Lord Alfonso, rouze your Spirits,
And be prepar'd for something new:
I seldom treat the common way.

Alf.
Your Grace is eminent in all:
It pleases me, you are so well dispos'd.

Duke.
But you, Alfonso, would take more delight
To be at Court, among the Ladies.

Alf.
Excuse me, if my looks don't express
The satisfaction of my heart:
I am pleas'd abundantly.

Duke.
Some Wine, and bring the Table furnish'd for Supper.
Servants bring Wine to the Duke and Alfonso, and set it on a Table, they sit down.
My Lord, seat your self, this is mine.
[Both sit down.
This to the Health you wish. Alfonso.

[Duke drinks.
Alf.
'Tis to the Noble Duke of Radiano.
Most cordially I drink this Health.

[Both drink.
Duke.
I have a new Cook to night, let's see
What Rarities he has provided for us.
Uncover your Plate, my Lord, as I do mine.

In the Marquis his plate is the picture of the Dut. In the Duke's a Dagger—Marq. starts.
Alf.
A Picture!

Duke.
A Dagger!

Alf.
Ominous prospect!

Duke.
My Dutchess's picture!
But can the shadow displease you.
The substance lik'd you well.

Alf.
I want air.
Offers to rise, a Spring goes and locks him in.
Ha—Another Devil—Lock'd in my Chair!
I am then design'd a Victim to revenge.

Duke.
What have they sent us in this other dish.
A brace of Deaths heads.
Uncovers the dish in the middle of the Table.
My Lord, Alfonso, you see the first Course,
I told ye 'twas no common Treat:
Is nothing here you like—

Alf.
Why this sad preparation for my death?

Duke.
Fall to most heartily, my young Lord,
As you did once, without Ceremony or Grace.
Let your eyes feed upon that lovely Face:
Scent the sweet fragrancy of her breath,
And suck the balmy dew that hangs
Upon those melting lips:
Feast all your Sences with her Charms,
And lye once more intranc'd
In the dear Inchantments of her Breast.
Speak Alfonso; why are you silent?

Alf.
What wou'd you have me, or what can I say?
O Duke! my Tongue faulters, and my Lips tremble,
As if I lay just at the point of Death.

Duke.
Put that Cordial to your Lips.

Alf.
Why d'ye triumph, Treacherous Duke?
Your Revenge had once been Justice:
You might have taken then my life with Honour,
But now 'tis base ignoble persidy,
Breach of hospitality, and friendship.

Duke.
Thy Crime was inhospitable, so be the punishment;
I had kill'd thee in the first transports of my Rage,
But the Engine fail'd my design:
Then second thoughts came crowding in my mind,
Which did instruct me better:
You were sent by, the Great Duke our Master;
Revenge had then been breach of Duty and Allegiance:
You were intrusted by him, and therefore
By that trust protected.

Alf.
Go on with your Politicks, Duke;
And let me hear why you preserv'd my life,
When others wou'd have taken it—You not to blame!

Duke.
'Twas my Duty to give you safe Conduct;
You were not then dismist from my protection,
Nor shou'd base Villains snatch my Revenge,
And disappoint a nobler Justice,
Due to my Honour, and my Name.

Alf.
These Maxims I learn too late.

Duke.
But, poor, unpolitick, unthinking Lord,
That Ambush was my master Stratagem,
'Twas I contriv'd, and dress'd it out.

Alf.
To what end?

Duke.
To secure your Confidence,
And fix belief of real Friendship:
All fair pretences else had vanish'd;
Or when ponder'd in your cooler thoughts,
Appear'd no more than bubbles in the air.

Alf.
Why kill'd you then a person you engag'd?

Duke.
He was the Spy, that did the thankless office
To inform, me of my dishonour;
For such service, such reward;
He knew the secret, and might talk,—
But with that last politick stroke,
I secur'd his silence and your confidence.
Thus are you drawn into the snare.

Alf.
O dreadful Maxims, far, be they from my Soul.

Duke.
Thine Alfonso, is but a Mungrel Soul,
Infus'd in the act of Generation;
In some dull Climate where thou wast begot,
Beyond the Mountains.
Mine is the true Italian Spirit:
There is a great Genius in Mischief.
Bruitish Revenge is but the exercise of the body,
Noble Revenge the delight and pleasure of the
Mind.

Alf.
O Horror!
One thing more, most exquisite Duke;—
Am I not under soveraign protection now.

Duke.
No, I writ the Duke word in my Letter
You were my Guest, and under obligation to return.
You are remitted back;
And now stand disengag'd from all Commands.

Alf.
Have you no pity?

Duke.
Wrong'd Honor calls for satisfaction.

Alf.
On then, plunge that Dagger deep in my breast;
My blood will only sully thy hands:
But this most barbarous Treachery will six
A lasting stain upon thy Name and Memory:
You said the brave and generous did act
Without deceit.

Duke.
With Friends, and where they are not injur'd:
Shall he that was deceiv'd to his undoing,
Not use deceit to right himself?
The Notion's dull and flegmatick.
Now Alfonso, thou rifler of my sweets,
And great destroyer of my happiness,
Tremble, thy utmost date of life is come,
And thou must fall a Sacrifice to vengeance.

Alf.
I feel the Terror e're you strike the blow:
Cold sweats hang on my Brows,
My heart shrinks up, my voice grows faint,
And every limb is paralytick;
Yet not from fear, but horror of thy deeds:
Oh, quickly end thy barbarous Triumph,
And compleat thy Treachery.

Duke.
Ho—you, the Assistants of my just revenge:
Enter Ruffians with a Bow-string.
There sits the Criminal.

Alf.
O mercy.

Duke.
Hold—As other Malefactors crimes are writ on their Foreheads,
His shall he hung upon his Breast:
Fix there there the Dutchesses Picture,
With this Dagger.

[Gives a Dagger to one of the Ruffians.
Alf.
Alas, her fatal turn is next.

Duke.
How dying men do often Prophecy. So—
Another strike into his Brain.
Now execute my just Commands.

Alf.
Mercy! mercy! Oh! oh!

A little Silk Curtain falls to screen him, that hung ruffled above his Head.
Duke.
The Rigour of punishment
Strikes terror in many others,
Turns their bad minds, and makes 'em fear
To act the evil deeds they had design'd:
This the mistaking world calls Cruelty,
But rightly understood, 'tis tender Mercy.
Thus Alfonso did misjudge Revenge:
If Revenge has no Charms, why are men fond on't?
'Tis bruitish and unnatural to hurt others,
Unless a benefit accrews thereby.
Let cold Northern Stoicks give their reasons
Why we should not take pleasure in Revenge,
When the Wrong-doers found so much
In every act they did.

They draw up the Curtain. Alfonso appears murder'd, one Dagger in his Breast, with the Picture, another in his Forehead, all bloody.
1 Ruff.
He's dead.

Duke.
My Honor then in part is righted—
Bear hence his Body, dispose it as I've order'd.
Thus cunning Fowlers catch the Bird by Art:
All Stratagems are lawful in Revenge;
Promise, deceive, betray, or break your trust,
Who rights his Honor cannot be unjust.

Exit.
Enter Dutchess, with a Letter in her hand. Am. Flor. at a distance.
Dutch.
Welcome, welcome, most happy Paper:
This brings the wish'd-for knowledge of my Birth.
Bianca my Mother, the Great Duke my Father!
I his Natural Daughter!—
Now let Alouisia's Breast be calm.
My Lord too sends me a kind Message,
Confirms his parting promise,
And will take me to his bosome:
I'll be prepar'd to receive him.—
Amidea, Florella.

Am.
Your Grace's pleasure?

Dut.
Come, undress me, lay aside these Blacks,
My newest, and my richest Night-dress bring.

Am.
They are here already, under the Tuillet.

Dut.
What Book is that?

Am.
Pastor Fido.

Dut.
An excellent piece:
Whilst you undress me, Florella shall read;
Open the Book as chance directs.

Flo.
The fourth Act, Scene the Fifth.
[Reads.
Nicander and Amarillis speak—

Dut.
Is not that the Scene where she was suppos'd faulty?

Flo.
The same.

Dut.
Alas! Amarillis was innocent when blam'd!
Wou'd all were so that were accus'd—Begin and read.

Flo.
Nicander says.
Reads.
‘A heart of flint, or rather none had he,
‘Nor human sense, that could not pity thee;
‘Unhappy Nymph! and for thy sorrow grieve
‘The more; by how much less they can believe,
‘This shou'd befal thee—

Dut.
Enough.
[Dut. rises and walks a little aside and speaks.
Ah, how much greater is my fault than hers.
She broke no Matrimonial Vows.
Skip that Scene and turn to another.

[Dut. sits down again.
[Flo. opens the Book again.
Flo.
Act the Fifth, Scene the second.
Tityro, and Messenger—

Dut.
That is it where Tityro bewails
His Daughters lost Honour, going to dye—
Read—

Flo.
Reads.
‘Which first, my Daughter, shall I mourn in thee,
‘Thy loss of Life, or of thy Chastity?
‘I'll mourn thy Chastity—

Dutch.
Skip the rest of that Speech, and read her answer.

Flo.
Reads.
‘If my mishap had come thro my own fault,
‘And the effect had been from an ill thought,
‘As of a deed that seems ill, it had been
‘Less grievous to me, to have death pay sin;
‘And very just it were.

[Dutchess starts from her Chair.
Dut.
No more—How the words strike me to the heart.
By Amraillis I stand condemn'd!

Enter Fidalbo.
Fid.
Madam, the Duke is return'd,
And waits you in his Chamber.

Dut.
Hence Amidea and Florella—follow me.

Exeunt.
Duke in the Chamber, and others.
The Body of Alfonso appears laid in the Bed, his Head raised, his Arms laid out strait, as in his Shirt, to be seen; Candles upon Stands round the Bed, but not lighted.
Duke.
I dismiss you now—
Exeunt Attendants.
This is the Body of ill-fated Alfonso,
That dar'd to love, tempt, and enjoy my Wife.
Here, where he did commit his Crimes.
Now receives the State of Funeral pomp.
The Dutchess too prepares her self,
Like a new Bride, for a new Nuptial Night,
But here she'll find revenge in Triumph,
And love with a pale ghastly countenance,
Lye ready to embrace her—She comes,
Close then these Curtains. Yet a while.
Anon those Tapers shall be lighted,
And death appear in ceremonious State.

Enter Dutchess in a night dress.
Dutch.
O, my Lord!

Duke.
My Dutchess!

Dutch.
My dear lov'd Lord!

Duke.
My once dear Wife.

Dutch.
Once! my Lord?

Duke.
Yes Alouisia—But I had forgot.

Dutch.
You seem troubled—

Duke.
My mind is burden'd.

Dutch.
Can I ease you?

Duke.
You only—

Dutch.
With my life, if needful.

Duke.
Speak sincerely—

Dut.
My tongue and heart are partners in this truth.

Duke.
Wou'd you dye for me?

Dut.
Most willingly.

Duke.
Death, Alouisia, is terrible.

Dut.
For my Lords sake delightful.

Duke.
To live is painful, to dye is sweet;
For Death does put an end to worldly cares:
But let us talk of Life.

Dut.
Whilst you are my Life, I cannot think of Death.

Duke.
And yet the thoughts of Death are needful:
It concerns us to think on't every hour.

Dut.
True, my Lord; but we are in present health.

Duke.
Ay, every moment, for every moment we are dying:
And who knows but you or I may dye this minute.

Dut.
Avert it Heaven.
Let Loves more pleasing thoughts enter your bosome—
And tune our Souls for Rapture.

Duke.
Now, Alouisia, you inspire me:
Forgive me that I have been so slow.
Come to thy Bed—

Dut.
The Scene of Paradice, when you my Lord are there.

Duke.
The Scene of Love and Union.

Dut.
I go.

Duke.
Stay.

Dut.
Why, my Lord?

Duke.
First, give light to these Tapers.

Duke takes a Candle, and lights them round the Bed.
Dut.
For what, my Lord?

Duke.
To represent our Love, which was extinct,
But now like these, new kindled and new lighted.

Dut.
We pay this Ceremony to the dead.

Duke.
That's my intent; sleep is the Image of death.

Dut.
I see great alteration—Your looks shew Terror.

Duke.
Take this light; hold it in your hand.

Dut.
For what, my Lord?

Duke.
Now open the Curtains.

Dut.
My hand trembles, and my pulse scarce beats.

Duke.
'Tis not long since you ran with joy, and there
Sacrific'd my honour to your pleasure:
Your tremblings then were extasie, not fear.

Dut.
Sad Remembrance.

Duke.
A sad Truth.

Dut.
Oh Heaven! the time is come—
That Penitence must end in Death.

Duke.
Speak to the person in the Bed.

Dut.
Who is in the Bed?

Duke.
One you lov'd well.

Dut.
Horror seizes me.

Duke.
Take Courage Dutchess, draw wide the Curtains.

Dut.
Did you not pardon me! what will become of me!

Duke.
Open the Curtains, there you'll see a Glass,
In which you will read your Fate.

Dut.
What Glass is there?

Duke.
The truest you ever look'd in.

Dut.
I wou'd, but I dare not.

Duke.
You durst for another.

Dut.
My Heart faints, and my Arm wants strength.

Duke.
I'll help you. See they are open now.

Dut.
Ah!

Duke.
Behold the body of you lov'd Alfonso
What d'ye read in this mirror.

Dut.
In his pale looks, and in your Angry brow
I read my death.

Duke.
Right, deaths bitter potion must wash down
The sweet intoxicating draught of Love.
Recommend your self to Heaven—
Revenge is in my hand

[A Dagger and a Bow-string
Dut.
My gracious Lord, my lov'd Husband,
Stay till tomorrow, take not the forfeit of my life,
Till the Great Duke is here—He owns me his Daughter.

Duke.
Thou art the Off-spring of sin,
And product of unlawful pleasures.
Thy Birth was tainted and thy Life impure.
Thou most of all to blame—Thy Mother err'd,
But broke no Conjugal Vow.

Dut.
Let the Duke pronounce my doom.

Duke.
He is thy Father, I thy Husband.
He is my Prince, but I am your Lord.
His power may punish me,
But thy sentence hangs only in my breath.

Dut.
No hope, no mercy?

Duke.
No prayer, no repentance?

Dut.
My life e're since I err'd, has been
But one continued Act of penitence.
My prayer is short,
My Lord forgive, and Heaven forgive me too.
Rise—Now sit down in that Chair.
This Instrument, without much pain,
Will give thee speedy death;—
I'll gently let thee down into thy Grave—O Alouisia!

Dutch.
Sigh not. This comfort in my death I have,
My Lords own hand does send me to my Grave.

Duke.
Dye then, thou fair disturber of my peace:
Pulls the Bed-Curtains over her Face, and strangles her, sitting in the Chair.
That Honour shou'd command o're Love,
And Love thus cruelly obey.
Throws the Curtains off, and looks on her.
So, she's dead.
Honour now is righted, and Revenge appeas'd.
Behold, how Beauty still revels in her Cheeks,
And gets the Victory o're Death and my Revenge.
Soft Compassion creeps into my Soul,
And I cou'd now forget my Injuries.
But let the noble sense of Honour drive it out:
Hence then all tender thoughts, and foolish pity.
Now her Colour, like withdrawing beams,
Leaves only some few streaks of Light behind.
Thus Flowers blasted by chill Winds decay and fade;
But e're these perish quite—I'll taste their sweets
Once more—
[Offers to kiss her, and starts back.
Ha! she is not a sweet smelling Rose,
But a vile Canker—mildew'd all o're,
And rank as basest Weeds—not sin it self
More rank—Who waits there?

Enter Amidea, Florella.
Flor.
Your Garce's pleasure?

Duke.
Put your Lady to bed.

Amid.
Asleep!

Duke.
Go nearer.

Amid. and Flor. go towards the Dutchess.
Flo.
Ah!

Flo. looks at the Dutchess and starts.
Amid.
Bless me! ah, ah—

Amid. sees Alfonso in the Bed, starts and shrieks lowder.
Duke.
Do your Duty, without more noise.

Amid.
O horror!

Duke.
Leave wonder, and obey; put her to bed:
Then my Revenge in Triumph will appear
In the same Field where Honor did receive its fatal wound.

Enter Fidalbo and Fryer.
Fid.
Holy Father, press not forward,
I will acquaint the Duke you are here.

Fry.
Hinder me not, I will bear you blameless.
I fear I come too late—

Fidalbo Retires.
Duke.
For what? holy man.

Fry.
To prevent what my fears presage.
Why have you done this deed of horror?

Duke.
You need not ask that question,
You were her Confessor.

Fry.
She was my Penitent, and such a Penitent,
That the least error of her life was not told
Without tears, and hearty sighs of sorrow:
Heaven make you such an one for these ill deeds.

Duke.
I say Amen.

Fry.
But have you not misjudg'd her?

Duke.
No.

Fry.
But Revenge is Heavens prerogative, not ours.

Duke.
So say Divines:
But we Husbands are of another mind.

Fry.
The Laws of our Country are against you.

Duke.
Ay, for form they discountenance Revenge,
But Custom does suspend the punishment:
Honor is the noblest Law.

Fry.
Wicked Custom, and mistaken Honor!

Enter Fidalbo.
Fid.
Please your Grace, the Huntsmen are in the Park,
And the Great Duke is coming.

Duke.
Enough—Fidalbo look there, but wonder not:
There lyes Alfonso, here behold my Wife.

Fid.
Oh—

Fidalbo weeps, and wipes his eyes with his Handkerchief.
Duke.
Be it your charge to see my orders perform'd.
Let her Women lay the Dutchess in the Bed,
In this same posture by Alfonso's side.
This Letter I leave upon the Table here,
To be remov'd by none but the Duke's own hand.
When he comes, conduct him in, say I am not well.
That Letter and this sight, will fully
Instruct him the reason of this deed.

Fid.
Do you not fear his Anger?

Duke.
I know 'twill greive his heart, he lov'd her well.
But Princes have noble Souls,
His sense of honour will excuse the deed.
Now Holy Father, I will retire with you,
Your Convent shall be my safe retreat,
I'll put on your habit, and pray away my life with you.
I have no more business with the world.
For all my peace and worldly joys are fled,
Life has no Charms now Alouisia's dead.