 | The Unhappy Kindness : or a Fruitless Revenge |  |
ACT II.
SCENE I.
Enter Frederick and Sorano.Fred.
Come to my Arms, my Father, Brother, Friend,
To thee thy Frederick owes his Life, and Crown,
And what he values more than both, his Love,
To thee he owes Evanthe, his Evanthe;
Shall she be mine? Shall the kind tender fair one
Soften the troubles of ill purchas'd power,
And Usurpation? Shall the Charms of Love
Silence the clamours of a guilty Conscience?
Sor.
She shall be yours, she is already so;
Sorano is the Slave of your desires,
Ready to fling his Soul upon your Service,
Nay more his Love; for know I love her too;
My active Father, when he first inform'd
My Mother what a Woman was, ne're knew,
Desires like mine; but yet she shall be yours:
I that have made you great will make you happy.
Fr.
Friend! Father! Brother! are too feeble names
T'express my Love; I'le call thee my Sorano.
How has my Youth been hitherto misled?
Restless ambition, and the thirst of Empire,
Hung, like an Ague on my active Spirits,
Till beauty came to thaw the restiff Mass,
New fram'd my Soul, and taught me how to love.
Sor.
Love then, and give a loose to your desires,
Let your Soul revel in those Charms, that drew
Great Jove himself from his Cœlestial Throne,
To taste on Earth Joys he ne're knew in Heaven.
Fred.
Yes I will Love, but I'le Love like a King;
Not quit my Majesty to be a Slave.
10
On my Knees ask, for what I can Command.
In Thunder I'le embrace this Semele.
Sor.
First try by gentle means to win her Love;
If those fall short, then force her to your Arms.
I've sent my Man unto her,
Upon some private business to come presently,
Hither she'll come, Your Grace dare speak unto her
Large golden promises and sweet Language, Sir
You know what they work, she's a compleat Courtier.
Enter Servant.
Ser.
My Lord, your Servant waits.
Sor.
Bid him come in, and bring the Lady with him.
She's coming in Sir.
Ev.
Whither dost thou go?
This is the King's side, and his private Lodgings,
I have no private business through his Chambers,
To seek him this way; O my life I find it,
Thou art Drunk, or worse, hired to convey me hither
For some base end. The King here, and Sorano?
I find I'm trap't; now gentle Love inspire me,
And Honour help in this unequal Combat.
Sor.
Nay shrink not back, the good King will not hurt you,
He Honours you, and Loves you.
Ev.
My Lord, you once did Love, and Honour me,
So you have told me oft, and I believ'd it.
Sor.
I do so still, my labours to advance you
Proclaim aloud how much I honour you.
Fred.
Gentle Evanthe!
Ev.
The gentle Queen is well I hear, and now returning home.
Fr.
I talk not of the Queen, I talk of thee, sweet Flower.
Ev.
Your Grace is pleasant to mistake a Nettle for a Rose.
Fr.
No Rose nor Lilly, nor no glorious Hyacinth,
Are of that Whiteness, Sweetness, Tenderness,
Softness, and satisfying blessedness,
As my Evanthe!
Ev.
Your Grace speaks very feelingly,
I would not be a handsome Wench in your way
For a new Gown.
Fr.
Thou art all handsomness,
Nature will be asham'd to frame another,
Now thou art made, th'hast robb'd her of her cunning.
But Love Evanthe!
11
Good your Grace be patient,
I shall make the worst honourable Wench;
Shame your Discretion, and your Choice.
Fr.
Thou shalt not.
Ev.
Shall I be Rich do you say and Glorious?
Fr.
Thou shalt be any thing.
Ev.
Let me be honest too, and then I'll thank you.
Have you not such a Title to bestow too?
If I prove otherwise, I would know but this,
Can all the power you have, or all the Riches,
But tye Men's Tongues up from discoursing of me,
Their Eyes from gazing at my glorious folly,
Time that shall come from wondring at my impudence,
And they that read my wanton life, from Curses.
Fr.
Stay Evanthe I'll Marry thee.
Ev.
What shall the Queen do then?
Fr.
I'll be Divorc'd from her.
Ev.
Can you tell why, What has she done against you?
Has she contriv'd a Treason 'gainst your Person,
Abus'd your bed, do's disobedience urge you?
Fr.
'Tis all one, 'tis my will.
Ev.
'Tis a most wicked one,
A most absurd one, and will show a Monster.
I had rather be a Whore, and with less sin,
To your present Lust, than Queen to your injustice.
I'll tell your Grace, so Dear I hold the Queen,
I'd first take me for my Love a Moor,
One of your Gally-Slaves, that cold, and hunger,
Decripit misery had made a mock Man,
Than be your Queen.
Fr.
You are bravely resolute.
Ev.
I had rather be a Leper, and be shunn'd,
And dye by pieces, rot into my Grave,
And leave no memory behind to know me,
Than be a high Whore to eternity.
Fr.
Now my Sorano, where's that Resolution,
On which I fondly thought to build my Love?
Behold that frown; each look, each word she speaks,
At once inflame, and check my strong desires,
I'm like a wretched Slave, half starv'd to Death,
That has within his view a goodly Feast,
Yet dares not with one Morsel save his Life.
12
I know not what to think, some other gamester
Holds her in play, she durst not slight you else.
Fr.
I'll find him out, tho' he lye next her heart;
Too cruel Maid will nothing win your Love?
Brought you those Excellencies to the World
To lock 'em in a Case, or hang 'em by you?
The use is all Nature bestow'd 'em for.
Ev.
But how to use 'em right will be the hazard.
What's Beauty with a lame decripit Soul?
Honour and Riches with a guilty Conscience?
A poor unhappy Orphan this Lord found me,
When I had nothing I could call my own;
But a variety of misery,
And with a tender hand reliev'd my wants;
Preferr'd me to your Noble Ladies Service,
Now my most Gracious Queen: where I have learn't
And daily fed upon her vertuous precepts;
Still growing strong by example of her goodness:
And shall I now dare once but think to wrong her?
To violate the chast Joys of her Bed?
Then farewel Vertue, and all truth in Woman.
You may find time out in Eternity,
Deceit, and Violence in heavenly Justice,
Life in the Grave, and Death among the blessed,
Sooner than tempt me to your vain illusions.
[Exit.
Fr.
She's gone and flew like swiftest Lightning from me,
But left a sting behind her as she went.
Shall I that broke all bars, that cou'd oppose me
In my pursuit of large imperial power,
And in a Purple torrent swam to Empire,
Bear any opposition in my Love:
I must, Sorano, Frederick must enjoy her,
Tho' she turns fury in my circling Arms,
And breaths forth in her Kisses swift destruction.
Sor.
Strive for the present to compose your self,
And with fair Signs of Love receive Valerio,
Tho' you have mark't him down for death smile on him.
Fr.
Yes my Sorano, the proud Slave must dye;
For I remember in my Father's time,
Who bred him with his Sons, one Table fed,
One Tutor taught, and one Purse still supply'd us;
How he in scorn would laugh at my slow progress,
I'th'Exercises he grew Master of,
13
For which I then did envy, and still hate him.
Besides he grows too popular, and looks
With a suspicious Eye upon my greatness.
Sor.
Think him, my Lord, and curst Alphonso nothing,
Whom, tho distracted, still the People love,
Death waits my pleasure and stands ready for 'em.
Enter Alphonso with Ptiuli and 2 or 3 Courtiers more.
Alph.
You say true, my Lord, Jason was the man; but what are the times
to us? they'll burst and stink when once they are swoln with Surfeits;
stink so abominably that all the world shall smell 'em.
Pr.
What faith my Lord?
Alph.
I say 'tis possible for poor men to offend, and great forgive, but it
must not be in the Dog-days. Was you ever in Love?
1. Cour.
Yes, my good Lord.
Alph.
If you have a strong faith then you may be saved, but you must first
learn to ravish twenty or thirty cov Wenches in a morning; tho here they are
so willing 'tis a complement, for Sir you may be a Bawd, and yet counted
an honest man.
Fr.
How do you Brother?
Alph.
Well, I thank you, found in body, and in my right wits; tho some
hold there's a great difference between a high born Princess and a Cowkeepers
Daughter, but of this you may consult your Council.
Fr.
Trust me! it makes me weep to see you thus.
Al.
I would bear you Company, but the world goes on so merrily I can't find
in my heart, ha, ha, ha! Do you see that old Lord there? he lost his wits
for want of preferment; but hush you'll tell the King. Your pardon, my
Lord I did not see you.
Sor.
My Lord Alphonso.
Alph.
Wipe your mouth before you speak, my Lord, you'll spoil your
Speech else.
[A warlike Shout within. The Scene draws and discovers a Royal Throne on which the King places himself, then Valerio enters in a Triumphal manner, being ushered in with a Song.
Fr.
Rise, to my arms, Valerio
And as a just Reward of all thy Labours
Accept my Love, and to confirm that Love,
Ask what thou wilt, thou shalt not ask in vain,
Instruct thy King, teach him what he must do
To show how much he loves such early vertue.
Val.
Low on my Knees I thank my royal Master,
And may I be most infamously wretched,
When I forget my Duty to my King.
Thus then encourag'd I dare boldly ask,
14
For know, Sir, 'tis a gift above all merit;
Were I as great as ever Cæsar was,
Like Pompey just, or Alexander valiant;
Were all th'exalted Vertues of mankind
Blended together to inform one Soul,
Were that Soul plac'd in a majestick body,
Blest with an everlasting youth and beauty,
Yet would Evanthe far exceed that wonder.
And her your Soldier asks for on his knees;
Joyn you our hands, my Lord, as Love has joyn'd our hearts.
Fr.
Ha, my Sorano! dost thou hear the Traitor?
Val.
Evanthe sent Valerio to the field,
For her I suffer'd all the toils of War;
Summer Fateigues, and tedious Winter Colds:
Evanthe led the Soldier forth to fight,
Evanthe gave the word of battle, fought,
Conquer'd, and here she comes to crown my Triumph.
Enter Evanthe.
Evan.
And here she comes to die within these Arms,
If Fate has not ordain'd she should live there.
Val.
Live and breed wonders for succeeding ages,
Be like a never emptied spring of joys,
Sweeter than life, lovely as spotless honour;
Here let me press thee in the arms of Love,
Close to my breast, to which thou art far dearer
Than my own heart that sallies forth to meet thee.
Evan.
What shall I say to answer all thy kindness?
I love like thee, but have no time to talk;
But fly to view the mansion of my bliss,
Where my blest ears so often have been fed
With the soft notes of kind indulgent love;
My busy eyes in haste survey thee round,
For fear I should be torn for ever from thee,
Before they have renew'd their old acquaintance.
Val.
For fear thou should'st be torn for ever from me?
Life cannot part, and Death shall ne're divide us.
So well Valerio loves thee, O Evanthe,
That to be thine for one short month I'd give
My present fortune, hopes of future greatness,
That scene of joys which I still hope to find
Lasting as age in my Evanthe's arms.
The Sun may move and change the face of Nature;
We'll know no change, but blest in one another,
Eternal love and never fading pleasures
15
Fr.
Guards separate those two.
Val.
VVhat means your Highness?
Fr.
To interrupt you, Sir, lest you should surfeit,
And lose your self in your imagin'd bliss.
Thou rash presumptious Fool! that art so prodigal
Of love and service, but much more of thy life.
Val.
I was, Sir, once, when in the face of Death
I fought the Cause of an ungrateful Master.
What have I done, Sir, to deserve your anger?
If it be error to desire to marry,
And marry her that Sanctity would dote on,
I have done amiss; if it be a Treason
To graft my Soul to Vertue, and to grow there,
To love the Tree that bears such happiness;
Nay, to desire to taste too, I am a Traitor.
Had you but Plants enough of this blest Tree,
Set round about your Court to beautify it,
Deaths twice as many to dismay th'Approachers,
The ground would scarce yeild Graves to noble Lovers.
Pis.
aside to Al:
This goes as we could wish, for now Valerio
Enrag'd at Frederick's unjust Refusal,
Will with more ease be won to our Desires,
Love and Revenge have made him ours already.
Al.
Love and Revenge? will those two powerful Ministers
Prevail with him that's deaf to Honours call?
Can he, who has with Resolution born
On his Sword's point the Quarrel of a Nation,
Yeild up his Life so tamely for a Woman?
Howe're I'll take him when his manlier Vertues
Sit o're his Soul, and bring him home to honour.
Val.
As for my Life I've hitherto preserv'd it,
And wear it now only to do you service.
How I have serv'd you, Sir, these here can witness;
I have some wounds too may plead strongly for me.
But since you have deny'd my first Request,
All other Offers, tho it was your Crown,
Bright as it is, I wou'd with scorn look down on.
Fr.
'Tis well maintain'd. Just now I think you wisht
So much you dote upon your own undoing,
But for one month t'enjoy her as your Wife,
Tho at th'expiring of that time you die for it.
Val.
I could wish many ages, Sir,
To grow as old as Time in her Embraces,
16
But if my Choice were two hours and then perish,
I wou'd not pull my Heart back.
Fr.
You have your wish,
Immediately I'll see you nobly married.
Your time take out in all content and pleasure,
But when that time's expir'd you must die for it.
Kneel not; not all your Prayers can divert me.
'Tis true, immediate Death should be your doom,
But you have done some service that pleads for you.
Now mark your Sentence, mark it scornful Lady,
If, when Valerio's dead, within twelve hours,
For that's your latest time, you find not out
Another Husband on the same condition,
To marry you again, you die your self too.
Ev.
Now you are merciful, I thank your Grace.
Fr.
If when y' are married you but seek t'escape
Out of the Kingdom, you, or she, or both;
Or to infect mens minds with hot Commotions.
You die both instantly: will you love me now Lady;
My Tale will now be heard, but now I scorn you.
[Exit cum Sur.
Ev.
Is our fair Love, our honest and entire,
Come to this hazard.
Val.
'Tis a noble one!
Envy could not have studied me a way,
Nor Fortune pointed out a Path to Honour
Straighter, and nobler, if she had her Eyes.
When I have once enjoy'd my sweet Evanthe,
And blest my Youth with her most dear Embraces,
I have done my Journey here, my Day is out;
All that the world has else is foolery;
Labour, and loss of time; what should I live for?
Think but Man's life a month, and we are happy.
A Paradice, as thou art my Evanthe,
Is only made to wonder at a little,
Enough for humane Eyes, and then to wander from:
Come grudge not my felicity,
Ev.
I'll to the Queen his Mother.
Val.
Do any thing that's honest,
But if you sue to him in death I hate you.
[Ex. Ev.
Friends we must have a Masque, I think Camillo,
You are a Poet, pray let me beg this courtesie.
Cam.
I'm glad to see you merry, Sir.
17
'Twou'd make you merry had you such a Wife,
And such an age t'enjoy her in.
Men.
An age, Sir.
Val.
Is't not age to him that is contented?
What should I seek for more? such Youth and Beauty.
Cl.
We confess you happy, but on what Price, my Lord?
Val.
'Twere nothing else,
No Man can ever come to aim at Heaven,
But through the knowledge of an Hell. Who would live long?
Who would be old? 'tis such a weariness,
Such a disease, it hangs like Lead upon us,
As it increases, so vexations,
Griefs of the Mind, Pains of the feeble Body,
Rheums, Coughs, Catarrhs, we are but our living Coffins.
Besides the fair Soul's old too, it grows covetous,
Which shows all Honour is departed from us,
And we are Earth again.
Cl.
You make fair use, Sir.
Val.
I would not live to learn to lye, Cleanthes,
For all the world; old men are prone to that too.
Thou that hast been a Soldier Menallo,
Adopted thy brave Arm the Heir to Victory
Would'st thou live so long till thy strength forsook thee,
Till thou grew'st only a long tedious Story,
Of what thou hast been, till thy Sword hung by.
And lazy Spiders fill'd the Hilt with Cobwebs?
Men.
No sure I wou'd not.
Val.
'Tis not fit thou shou'd'st,
To dye a Young man is to be an Angel,
Our great good parts put Wings upon our Souls.
They stay sure, come; I hear the Musick call us.
[Exit with Camillo.
Men.
We will attend you; Marriage and Hanging go by Destiny; 'tis
the old Proverb, now they come together, here comes the Ld. Alphonso: how
happy had we been if he had reign'd.
Enter Alphonso.
Al.
Tho he is hasty, and his Anger Death,
His Will like Torrents not to be resisted,
Yet Law and Justice go along to guide him;
And what Law or what Justice can he find
To justifie his Will?
Cl.
He seems concern'd.
Men.
One of his melancholy Fits that ne're last long.
18
Yet after all Death is unwelcome never,
Unless it be to tortur'd and sick Souls.
That make their own Hells here on Earth.
The poor Slave that lies private, has his Liberty
As amply as his Master in the Grave;
The Earth as light upon him, and the Flowers
That grow about him, smell as sweet and flourish.
But whensoever it comes crown'd with Honour,
When Memory and Vertue are our Mourners,
What pleasures shall we then find in the Grave!
Cl.
How does your Lordship?
Al.
Very well; one, two, three, you can't hurt me for all that.
Cl.
What thinks your Lordship of this Wedding.
Alp.
They have given him a hot Custard, and mean to burn his mouth
with it.
Men.
Pray, my Lord, what News? these Wars have made us Strangers
to the Court.
Alp.
You may be honest, and grow old as I am, and blow your fingers
ends.
Men.
My Lord, that's no News.
Alp.
You may be Knaves then when you please, stark Knaves, and build
fair Houses, but your Heirs shall have none of 'em.
Men.
These are undoubted.
Al.
Truth is not worth the hearing: I'll tell you News then, there was a
drunken Sailer that got a Mermaid with Child as she went a milking, and
now she sues him in the Bawdy Court for it; the Infant Monster is brought
up in Fish street.
Cl.
Ay, this is something.
Al.
I'll tell you more, because y' are Soldiers; there was a Fish taken, a
monstrous Fish, with a Sword by his side, a long Sword, a Pike in his
Neck, and a Gun in his Nose, and Letters of Mart in his Mouth, from the
Duke of Florence.
Men.
With submission, my Lord, this sounds something odly.
Al.
I do confess it; do you think I wou'd tell you truths, that dare not
hear 'em? You are honest things, we Courtiers scorn to converse with.
Men.
He'll grow mad anon and beat us, let us to the Masque.
[Exeunt.
Al.
Can there be any nature so unnoble,
Or anger so inhumane to pursue this?
Yes he, that cou'd not hear the voice of nature
That call'd aloud, when by his barbarous hands
A Father fell, will have his Ears seal'd up
In the commission of a meaner Act.
19
Ped.
Marry'd! yes, when I mean to be hang'd; 'tis the surer Contract.
Al.
Was not the Monster ripe for Hell already,
He shou'd live something longer, to compleat
This last design, and make his damning sure.
Ped.
Why don't we about it then? What do we stand preaching for?
You, my Lords, may have your quirks and quiddles, your times and occasions;
but I know no more than a Word and a Blow; let us first cut his
throat, and talk on't afterwards.
Al.
Nay we'll do more than talk, the fatal thread,
Which held the Sword of Justice o're his head,
H' has cut himself to make destruction sure.
The evening of his Reign draws on apace,
But if we don't with timely care prevent him.
He'll mark his way with ruine as he falls,
And like a fiery Meteor set in blood.
Ped.
Why, so it be his own 'tis no matter. Why are we not in arms,
and the whole City given to know—
Al.
Discreetly and privately it must be done, 'twill miss else, and prove
our ruines; when you all hear the Castle Bell take courage and stand like
Men; mean time be near his person to avoid suspicion. I must into the
presence, my Mother's fears will work else.
[Exit cum Pisano and Petruchio.
[Scene draws and discovers the Court seated for the Masque, that ended the King speaks.
Fr.
Come to the Banquet, Sir, when that's ended
I'll see you in your Bed, and then good night.
Be merry; you have a sweet Bedfellow.
Val.
I thank your Grace, and ever shall be bound unto your Nobleness.
Fr.
I pray I may deserve that thanks, set forward.
[Exeunt Omnes:
| The Unhappy Kindness : or a Fruitless Revenge | |