 | Love and Revenge |  |
ACT the Fourth.
Scene the First.
Enter Nigrello.Nigr.
Curse on this whining Passion! Th'amourous King
Minds Love so much, that he forgets his Honour.
Aphelias Charms have so possest his thoughts,
That all things else lye by. I have as good
As call'd him Bastard, and his Mother Whore:
Yet Clarmount wears his head. All other interests
Neglected lye, where Soveraign Woman reigns.
I scorn so tardy a Revenge, I'le keep
My rage awake, though thine, dull King, can sleep.
Enter Fredigond.
Queen.
Mischief grows lean, Nigrello, all my plots
Turn head upon themselves.
Nigr.
'Tis very strange,
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Of pleasure and security. For certain
Some subtle Devil crosses your designs.
Queen.
Subtle! No, I'le swear for him, none oth'subtlest;
For by this light, I out-witted him and all
His politicks. With what majestick grace
Did the old reverend Goblin stalk away,
Whilst th'amaz'd King, and his stout-hearted train
Turn'd pale, and lookt as ghastly at the sight
As I've seen Brutus picture look in Tapestry,
Staring on Cesars Ghost. Was not the escape
Of Clarmount, in my Husbands shape most excellent.
Nigr.
Yes Madam, it was lucky. But what Guard
Do you design against all future dangers?
What next do you resolve on?
Queen.
My dull Ethiope,
I will instruct thy blackness: Learn to know
My Reputation's sickned, and my Fame
Is lookt into with narrow eyes at Court.
Therefore it's thus decreed, I will remove
And sequester my self from Company.
Nigr.
Good.
Queen.
Thou know'st where Childrick oftentimes retired,
When fits of piety (rest his soul)
Took him ith' head.
Nigr.
Madam, I know the place.
Queen.
There I and Clarmount will securely meet
The Cave that leads to th'Postern-gate
Will give him entrance at all hours unseen.
Nigr.
Madam, your Wit's as glorious as your Love.
Queen.
I will away to Night. I cannot brook
My Frantick Sons wild passion for Aphelia:
If (as I fear he will) he Marrys her,
He has undone my hopes on Earth for ever.
Therefore Nigrello, let my Clarmount be
Acquainted with our new designs.
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What else?
Queen.
If by the conduct of thy subtle brain
Thou could'st remove—
Nigr.
Aphelia, or the King,
The Prince, or all: is it not so?
Queen.
Thou hast a Wit which does engender thoughts
As Regal as our own: when Fate blows fair,
Set out, and prosper. In a brave design,
I wish no better head nor hand then thine.
Farewell. Remember Me.
Exit.
Nigr.
You shall be thought on, fear it not; but how?
Should I prevent her Lust this second time,
Before the third she may repent, and so
May save her Soul which my Revenge would damn:
Yet I'le prevent her, and contrive it so
She shant repent, nor shall Hell lose a Subject.
Thou, and thy Tyrant Son shall meet one Fate,
But I'le begin with you—In Reverence
To Age, thou Beldam as the elder Sinner,
I will take care shalt be the elder Devil.
Enter Lewis and Lamot disguis'd.
Lam.
Where shall we meet you.
Lew.
Here. I'le wait your coming:
Expect me here.
Exit Lamot.
Nigrello, are we safe?
Nigr.
Safe Sir, and private.
Lew.
I am glad I've found thee:
I've business to impart.
Nigr.
And so have I.
Lew.
Mine is of honourable consequence,
And does require thy aid.
Nigr.
So does mine yours.
Lew.
My fair Aphelia is—
Nigr.
Your Brothers Prisoner.
What then: His Wife she ne're shall be.
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But say
His Lust should seize her Honour, or his Rage
Her Life; Tyrant and Ravisher are names
He has been too well acquainted with already.
Suppose Aphelia meets Clotildas fate.
Nigr.
Suppose you dead, and me asleep; whilst you
Are living, and I waking, 'tis impossible.
Lew.
Thy Courage I adore. Lead on Commander,
I'le follow and obey.
Nigr.
Then take this path,
And Conquer. First you know he loves her Virtue;
Doats on her to Distraction; not because
She's only Fair, but Chast. Her beautious mind,
And her fair form within makes her his Saint,
His Heav'n, and whate're names th'Idolatry
Of Love can give her. Then to take away
That adoration, you must first displace
The Saint, leave the Shrine empty, and remove
That Virtue, and that Chastity he doates on.
Lew.
Bless me; where will this end?
Nigr.
She must be Strumpeted.
Lew.
Death and destruction, what a word was that?
Nigr.
Hold Sir, do not mistake: 'tis a hard word,
But I've no time for Eloquence; She must
Appear, not be that Creature. His wild Frenzy
Must have a desperate Cure. He must be told,
And be by Circumstance convinced, She's Loose,
Dishonest, and Unchast.
Lew.
A strange foundation.
Nigr.
But 'tis a sure one.
Lew.
But Nigrello, say,
Where shall we lay the Scene: Unchast with whom?
Nigr.
Sir, if you'l trust my choyce, let it be Clarmount.
He is a Villain, and the imputation
(Suppose your Jealous Brother takes his head for't)
Will do but Justice.
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Well: Grant him the Man.
Nigr.
You have some of Aphelias Letters by you?
Lew.
Yes.
Nigr.
What if you forged her hand, and in her name
Wrote Love from her to Clarmount? And to prove it,
Put in some hints of a lost Maiden-head,
Larded with some big words, such as stolne pleasures,
Embraces, or Enjoyment, or what else
You shall think fit.
Lew.
Her Lover, and betray her!
Nigrello, for thy friendship, take my thanks:
The Treason I'de embrace; but be the Traytor—
Nigr.
But can you yeild to see her Ravisht, Murder'd,
Or what's worse, Married; Married to your Brother?
That Traytor you must be, or one of these
Is certainly her fate.
Lew.
Is there no way?
Nigr.
None Sir, but this: and if her Safety, or
Your Love be worth your Care, resolve.
Lew.
I'le do't.
Tiwxt Love and Honour, Interest ends the strife,
I'le prostitute her Fame to save her Life.
Nigr.
Now you resolve, you shall not; your consent
Shall be enough; the labour shall be mine.
And that the story may not seem a cheat,
Or a design of yours by me to serve her,
I will appear her Friend so little, that
If he designs to punish her Unchastity,
I'le aggravate her Guilt, and spur him on
To Justice; but take care he ne're shall act it.
I'le raise the Thunder, but divert the blow.
Lew.
What debts must I for so much kindness owe?
Nigr.
You too must put on the disguise of hate;
Seem satisfied she's false, and slight and scorn her.
All Rivalship between you being once ceast,
At news of the Rebellion set on foot,
25
You being the fittest object in his Kingdom,
As you may manage it, make you their Leader.
Lew.
Let me embrace thee; this is a design
Has shot life through me.
Nigr.
By this means you may
Convert the Tyrants Sword to his own Ruine;
Instead of your suppressing the Confederates,
Joyn his own Army to assist their Cause.
Lew.
I am satisfied, and am resolv'd to study
All arts and means for my Revenge. Revenge
Can't be too fierce moved by so just a cause:
An Injur'd Mistress, and a Murder'd Father.
Nigr.
Since your mind's bent on honourable ends,
I have one more will try you.
Lew.
Name it then.
Nigr.
Your Mother stoops to actions that abhor
The Light, and this Night meets, if not prevented—
Lew.
My soul finds out the Man, is it not Clarmount?
Nigr.
The same.
Lew.
Are Pallaces such Scenes of Villany?
Had not the Court enough of Hell before in't.
Conduct me where I may but seize this Monster,
That his stain'd blood—
Enter Burbon, Lamot, Dumane, and Brisac.
Nigr.
Change your discourse and looks:
Your Friends attend you.
Lew.
Gentlemen, you're welcome.
My almost Brother once, I thank you,
[To Brisack.
And kindly greet this brave Assembly, whose
Great spirits look for stirring Opposites:
But there your expectation will be lost,
For I'le take care your danger shall be small,
And your resistance slender. Sirs, your pardon;
I've business of Importance with Brisac
35
But I'le repair that loss at our next meeting:
But take this in my stead. I'le share your Cause.
Lam.
Our Lives and Fortunes Sir, lye at your feet.
Exit Lewis and Brisac.
Burbon.
Are your men bold and daring; resolute
To run your fate; indifferent Rich, not Poor
That only fight for Bread; such oft betray
The sinews of a well-knit plot for gain,
When these fight as well to defend as win
Dum.
Mine know nor fear, nor death, souls of that fire
They'l catch a Bullet flying, scale a Wall
Batt'led with Enemies, stand breaches, laugh at
The thunder of the Canon; call it Musick,
Fitter a Ladys Chamber than the Field.
When o're their heads the Element is Seeld;
Darkend with Darts, they'l fight under the shades,
And ask no other Roof to hide their heads in;
They fear not Jove, and had the Gyants been
But half so spirited, they had Dethroned him.
Such are the Men I lead.
Burb.
Well kind Dumane,
I see they want no Herauld that have got
Your Friendship.
Dum.
Sir, I speak 'em as I love 'em.
Lam.
In good old Childricks raign, before his Queen
Had taught him Revels, and untaught him War,
Before her wanton Lust had sheathed his Sword,
To give her treacherous Poyson, pow'r of death;
I knew that they had valour, and a cause
To shew it in. Nor has the rust of Peace
Blunted their edge; they are as fierce as ever.
Burb.
They're Souldiers fit to Sack a Kingdom then—
Dum.
And share the spoyle.
Burb.
Were't come to that sport once.—
54
Burbon it must, or some of us must fall.
The Ulcerous State is ripe, and we must launce it.
Exeunt.
Scene the Second.
The Scene a Room of State.Enter Aphelia.
Aph.
I am a Prisoner still. But why so fair
A Prison, and so kind an entertainment,
After he had pronounced so harsh a doom,
I cannot guess the cause, unless it spring
From the Conversion of my cruel King:
If that's the cause, as ye kind pow'rs, I hope 'tis—
Enter Nigrello.
(Aside.)Nigr.
Now for my disguise:
This Lodging, and this Entertainment's my design:
The King I have perswaded to this mildness,
As the more easie way to win her heart
Then Cruelty. But on the same foundation
I seem to raise his hopes, I've built his ruine.
Aph.
What read'st thou in the Book of Fate Nigrello?
What is Heav'ns pleasure?
Quick, make hast and crown
My hopes, speak, thou canst read
The Language of my Stars, the will of Destiny;
For thou canst tell how looks my angry King.
Nigr.
Madam, he's now a King indeed, no more
Your Tyrant, witness his strange Reformation.
Now Madam he intends to make you happy
In giving, not accepting of your heart.
This milder usage he designs a Prologue
T'his vanquisht passion, and your alter'd fate.
The Generous, the Good, the Courteous Clarmount
Has been so much your Friend.—
Aph.
Clarmount, my Friend?
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Your Influence is so great, that this kind man
Has used such force, spoke such convincing reason,
That the Converted King adores your Faith,
Charm'd with your constancy, resolves to cherish it.
Aph.
Can I believe my Ears?
Nigr.
If your belief
So tardy be, stay till your Eyes confirm it:
And when your generous King gives your fair hand
To Lewis, call your Slave your Oracle.
Aph.
What extasy doest thou inspire? But Clarmoun,
Was he the Kings Converter? his strange pow'r
Both in the Kings and Peoples hearts I've heard of:
But his strange kindness in my Cause is wondrous.
Nigr.
No doubt the Prince may have engag'd him in't.
But what'ere motive led him on,
It was a bold and brave attempt
T'oppose the passion of a raging King.
Aph.
What Recompence does so much kindness merit?
Nigr.
No more then you can pay: Send him your thanks,
And the Debt's cancell'd.
Aph.
Yes, by thee I'le send 'em.
Tell him from me, how high a sense, what value—
Nigr.
Madam, my Will exceeds my Pow'r to serve you.
I doubt my little Eloquence so much,
That you'd oblige your humble Slave, to trust
Your nobler thoughts to Paper.
Aph.
Who waits there?
Enter Attendant.
Bring Pen and Paper.
Exit Attendant, and brings in Pen, Ink, and Paper, and Aphelia sits down and writes.
Nigr.
I have my wish, A Letter does the business.
[Aside.
Enter Brisac.
Noble Brisac.
Bris.
How fares our mourning Sister?
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Hist: I have workt her up to a belief
Of Clarmounts Friendship, and the Kings conversion:
And you are come ith' happy minute to
Confirm her in't.
Bris.
The King has sent me hither
To Court my Sister for him. But the Laws
Of Friendship and of Nature ought to be
Obey'd before th'unjust commands of Kings.
His Love is Tyranny, an Invasion of
What Vows & Oaths the Seals of Heav'n have made
His Brothers right. The serving of my Friend
And Sister then, is a design so just,
That all the Cheats I use, and shapes I take,
Are pardon'd for their glorious cause sake:
Moved by the tyes of Friendship and of Blood,
The means are lawful where the end's so good.
Aph.
Oh my dear Brother, welcome. Kind Nigrello
Tells me my miseries draw near an end;
The King's no more my Lover, but my Friend.
Bris.
If his wild Loves Conversion, is so great,
What's his Devotion then, that makes the Proselite?
How great is the obliging Clarmounts Friendship?
Aph.
How great I think it is, read there, and see.
Bris.
Reads the Letter.
My Lord,
My Transports of joy have been such, as your favours merited:
when I consider the furious Love of a Tempestuous King, I cannot
but reflect on the danger of your kindness in wrestling with that
Love, and the glory of it in subduing it. Pursue the generous
Friendship that has been so well begun, and take into the number
of your Admirers the humblest of your Servants.
Aphelia.
'Tis well; his worth too high you cannot raise:The first reward of all good deeds is praise.
She sits down and Seals the Letter.
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Those lines with some addition of my own
Shall make all my design secure. I'le drive
The cheat on with such Impudence and courage,
That all his furious rage shall not deter me,
Nor all his arts disprove me.
Aph.
Here Nigrello.
[Gives him the Letter.
Nigr.
I'le flye to serve you; but before I go,
I ought to tell you that the King intends
To visit you; and though he comes to take
His last farewell to Love, yet you must think
Lovers quit Ladies just as Garrisons
Surrender; in their fall their Pride's so great,
They willingly would have their yeilding look,
As little as it can like a defeat.
The King, no doubt, though in his vanquisht passion,
Will make some Love; say some kind amorous things;
And if you'l take my Councel, let your Answers
Be mild and gentle.
Exit Nigrello.
Bris.
The advice is good,
And you'l oblige your self if you pursue it.
'Tis a vain glory that attends a Lover,
Never to say he quits; and when Hope dyes,
The Gallantry of Love still lives, is charm'd
With kindness but in shadow; takes delight
Even in its being deceiv'd. Love's th'only passion
Takes pleasure to be flatter'd in dispair.
Aph.
Can a feign'd look, or a dissembled smile
Oblige so good, so generous a King.
Such Treachery I scorn; no, he deserves
A nobler usage. His resigning me
To Lewis, has so charm'd me, that I cannot
Pay him too much. My Friendship, Kindness; all
The faculties of my Soul (but what my Vows
To Heav'n and Lewis do except) are his.
Come glorious Lover, storm an easie Breast,
Take all my heart has liberty to part with.
58
Lewis had ne're a Rival till this hour.
Bris.
Madam, I see him coming; take no notice
Either of our discourse or his conversion.
'Tis more than I dare answer: it anticipates
The Gallantry, and the surprize of great
Designs, to have 'em told e're they are acted.
Enter King.
King.
What Vulture gripes me here? Ha, what art thou?
If thou be'st so Jealousy, mount and be gone:
Fly to the vulgar bosom, whose cheap thoughts
Despair their own performance; in a King
Thou show'st a Nature retrograde to Honour.
Suppose She Loves, and has vow'd constancy
To Lewis, must it follow that her heart
Cannot be moved? 'Tis but my fears that say so.
I'le boldly on, and tire her till she yeild.
Is She not fair? Beauty's a spark of Heav'n,
And all that's Heavenly may be moved, 'tis only
Th'Infernal pow'rs that are inexorable.
What brow wears our fair Tyrant? Is a Brother
[To Bris.
More pow'rful then a King? Does she unmoved
Admit thy Mediation in my Cause,
Or am I still that unshaped thing, whose name
Has terror in't. Does still each sound, that breaths
My hated name, strike horrour through her veins;
And shake that Seat where my proud Brother raigns.
Bris.
I found her not so cruel as I wisht her;
The Conquest was so easie, that my pains
In serving you, were less then I desired.
King.
The Conquest? How, what say you?
Bris.
Sir, the Cloud
That hinder'd her the prospect of her bliss
Is gone; the pow'r of Majesty and Love
Has the long mist dispel'd: She is restored
To sense and reason.
59
Is Aphelia kind?
Bris.
Yes, to her self: She understands the Love
Of Kings; and why she understood no sooner,
She does confess her senses have been more
Dazled then darken'd.
King.
My kind Advocate.
Oh that I had a Sister for thy sake,
As Cruel, and if possible, as fair,
That I might pay thee back this kindness.
They Madam, who Divinitys approach,
[To her.
Seek out for prosperous hours to breath their Vows in:
Which attribute of Heav'n Divine Aphelia
Mercy or Justice is the mighty work
Of this days fate? Have you markt out this hour
For lending ear to your Adorers Prayers,
Or forming Thunder for Offenders crimes.
Aph.
If there is any thing Divine or Sacred
Lodged in this Breast, 'tis Royal Sir, your Creature.
For this poor humble roof, cannot be built
For such a Guest, unless you're pleased to raise it;
And if you'd have me Sainted, you of all men
Should have lest cause to ask how I'm inclin'd:
Who makes the Saint, may well expect it kind.
King.
I am transported. If this sudden kindness
Be truth, 'tis Miracle.
Bris.
If it be false,
Punish her Treason on her Brothers heart.
By my Allegiance, and my hopes of Bliss,
She entertains no wish nor thought t'abuse you.
King.
This Language speaks thee fair Aphelias Brother:
Thy Breath else could not be so near allied
To hers, to carry so much charm, such Heav'n in't.
They Madam, who would mighty Structures rayse,
[To her.
Search the Foundation first, on which they build.
The highest flight of my Ambition is
To know my pow'r in fair Aphelias heart.
60
Aph.
Your pow'r in that you shall distrust no more.
'Tis all that Loyalty and Gratitude
Can make it; my Prophetick thoughts have told me
You will be kind; and as my Soveraign ought
To have disposal of your Vassals Fates.
And that high Fate you have markt out for me
I doubt not will be welcome, great, and glorious.
And as I'm satisfied 'twill be all these,
Great Sir, t'obey you, shall not only be
My duty, but my hopes.
Bris.
How prettily
They drive on the mistake.
Nigr.
The Plot works rarely.
Bris.
But stop 'em e're it goes too far.
Nigr.
Great Sir,
I've somthing for your Ear.
King.
Another time.
Nigr.
None but this minute will suffice. Your safety
And honour are concern'd.
King.
And what of them?
Be quick, I'm too full of thought to talk.
Nigr.
My story is so fiery, that it must
Move slow; for if it should break out too fiercely,
It will do Violence to your Ear, disturb,
If not displease you.
King.
But it shall not. I've but
Just now receiv'd the promise of her heart;
And do you think it lyes in Fortunes pow'r
To shake my quiet at so blest an hour:
Out with it, speak the worst thou hast to say,
My Joy's too great t'admit of an allay.
Bris.
Let us withdraw; perhaps they would be private.
Exeunt Brisac and Aphelia.
Nigr.
But shall I have your pardon?
King.
Yes, dispatch then.
61
Your Mistress is not—
King.
What?
Nigr.
Not Chast.
King.
Not Chast?
Had'st thou ten thousand lives, not one of them
Should scape my Justice for so damn'd a lye.
Nigr.
You promis'd me my pardon.
King.
How! thy pardon?
I would not give't my Father; no, not his Ghost:
Should but his shadow from his Grave rise up
To speak but one such word, for the Impiety
I'de burn the Temple where his Ashes sleep,
And raze his Tomb to be reveng'd on's dust for't.
But now I think on't thou shalt live for tortures;
I know there must be greater heads then thine
In this Conspiracy; which I'le wrack from thee:
Then my Revenge I'le take when 'twill be glorious:
Less then a Massacre, would be too mean
A Sacrifice t'Aphelias injur'd Honour.
Nigr.
That trouble shall be saved; I doubt not, Sir,
But you'l believe me e're I've done.
King.
Believe thee Slave! I'de not believe an Angel;
Should a Messenger from Heav'n bring me this News,
I would turn Athest to affront him for't.
Nigrello gives him Aphelias Letter.
Whats this, a Letter to Clarmount.
[Reads.
My Lord,
My transports of joy have been such as your Favours merited.
When I consider the furious Love of a Tempestuous King, I cannot
but reflect on the danger of your kindness in wrestling with
that Love, and the glory of it in subduing it. Pursue that generous
friendship that has been so well begun, and take into the number
of your Admirers the humblest of your Servants.
Aphelia.
62
That Friendship which has been so well begun—then it seems
He's a more pow'rful Rival then his King.
Somthing a loving stile; stay, here's a Postcript.
Reads.
When I am Married, and a Queen, our stolne pleasures
will be more difficult, but shall not be less desired, nor less
grateful to yours still
Aphelia.
What pretty forgery is this?Betray her Virgin-honour! make stolne meetings!
Aphelia Clarmounts Whore?
Nigr.
Oh no Sir:
The World has found a gentler name, his Mrs.
I see Sir you are startled; cease your wonder.
Is she not fair; and in this loving Age
A little Gallantry's a Venial sin.
King.
Slave, do you sport with me? confess who forged
This Blasphemy. For 'tis no more her writing
Then thou'rt a Saint.
Nigr.
'Tis hers; I saw her write it,
And when she had done, she gave't me to deliver.
But Curiosity made me so rude
To break it open; which when I had read,
My Loyalty made me present it here
To save your honour from a Syrens charms,
And guard my Prince from a loose Wantons arms.
King.
Thou ly'st; there's not one word on't hers. Has Lewis
Corrupted thy fidelity? I suspect
It is his plot, but I will force the secret
From thy black soul, or tear thy heart-strings out.
Nigr.
I'm not Subornd: That Letter is Aphelias;
She wrote it, and I'le prove it. I confess
She's Beautiful; but what though she be fair,
Must that conclude she's honest?
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Hold thy Athestick tongue: Or speak, and dye.
Nigr.
Great Sir—
King.
Peace Slave, thou that infect'st all Peace.
Nigr.
Why are you thus distemper'd; let not truth
Make you so wild a Tempest. Were it false,
Or that I sought the ruine of your Peace,
Your Youth, or Honour, then it were a time
To swell to this extravagance of passion:
But being truth—
King.
Truth, Dog, avoyd my sight:
Fly where the ruder world, ill verst in Kindred,
Promiscuously combines without distinction:
Where every Man is every Womans Husband.
These are a People that might bear with thee,
And fit for thee to dwell with.
Nigr.
Yes Royal Sir, I'm gone; but th'only way
For me t'avoyd your sight, must be to dye.
Nothing but death can separate your Slave,
Your loyal faithful Slave, from his loved Lord,
His honour'd and adored Lord: But if death's
My doom, pray let your humble Vassal beg
[Kneels.
An honourable death. Sir, from your hand
Let it in glory come; that death which I
Deserve, when my great Master thinks me false.
But e're you give me honour, right your own
[Rises.
Sir, if I do not prove
All I have said, send my black soul to Hell:
Damnation for abusing Majesty
Is a just due, Hers, and your wrongs demand.
King.
Leave off your Protestations; can her Fame
Be question'd, or disputed?
Nigr.
Not by one,
Who is all passion, but by Reason—
King.
Then
Let Reason be the judge: I'le show it her.
64
Do Sir.—But hold She's not so impudent in sin to own
So foul a Paper. If she should disown it
(As, if you show it her, no doubt she will)
You've but my word for't. Then for better proof,
Let her be sent for, and at her approach,
Do you retire unseen, to over-hear us:
The first thing that I'm certain she will ask me,
Will be about that Letter; the discourse
Between us, will convince you that she sent it,
And make perhaps more large discoveries
Of her false heart then this has pow'r to do.
King.
It is impossible; her Character
Gives this black scrowl the lye. She cannot be
That Monster which this Letter represents her.
Were she Unchast, why then did she refuse
A profferd Crown? I offer'd Marriage to her;
And Marriage, that's the veile to Unchastity
You see she shun'd. Did she not choose her death
Before my Love? Were she in league with Clarmount,
Why would she for my Brothers Love have dyed?
Were all this truth, where's all her Vows to Lewis,
Her scorn of Life, and her desire of Heav'n
To meet him there?
Nigr.
Where are they? where they should be.
In the smooth-tongue and oyley words of subtle
Woman. Where are they! why Sir, can't you guess?
Is the pretence of Constancy and Honour
Such news in Woman kind? Did not you love her
And courted by a King, could she do less,
Were she a Devil, then appear an Angel?
She had promis'd Marriage to your Brother. But
Must you conclude her Chast for courting Death
To follow him? what a strange, bold request
Was it to beg her Death from him she knew
Loved her too well to grant it her? The favour
She askt, she ne're expected to obtain.
65
How's this?
Nigr.
And for the conduct of her Love to Lewis,
Examine it, and where's her mighty Faith;
She'd hate you as his Murderer, and Love
Her Murder'd Lovers memory; She'd choose
To be his Sacrifice, before your Queen.
'Twas a brave Character, and she pursued it:
But search its depth, 'twas Interest, an Artifice
To heighten your esteem of her. How common
Is it to make a Conquest difficult
To raise the value on't. For after all,
She's not invincible, nor he so pow'rful,
But she could yeild at last. Did she not tell you
That that high fate you had markt out for her,
Would be both welcome, great, and glorious;
And so in loving duty, and kind Loyalty,
Her heart was at her Kings disposal.
King.
Hold!
I'le hear no more.
Nigr.
But Royal Sir, you must,
Though the bold speaker dyes for't. When you've Marry'd her,
She has her ends. For then, what with your Pride
For your hard Conquest, and your high assurance
Both of her Love and Honour, which her great
And pious Character confirms, she's certain
To raise your Passion to so vast a height,
That all she wishes, is her own. What greater
Security for a loose Womans pleasure
Then the fond kindness of an amourous Husband?
Such liberty and safety waits on Marriage,
That Clarmount then securely—
King.
Cease this rudeness;
They who raise Thunder, may not be so bold
To sport with it. Yonder it comes.
Nigr.
What Sir?
King.
That wondrous thing thou talk'st of.
66
Retire but for a minute; if I do not
Prove all I've told you, let my Blood appease
Your Anger, and her Injuries—
The King absconds.
Enter Aphelia.
Aph.
Nigrello.
Nigr.
The generous, and the worthy Clarmount thanks you.
Aph.
My Letter you presented?
King.
Can't be true
She owns that impious Libell!
Nigr.
Yes, and he
Accepted it with so much joy; such extasie
No common influence could raise.
Aph.
Kind Sir,
I am your Debtor.
King.
Yes in justice
She ought to pay her Bawd; his Office merits it.
Aph.
He is a generous, and a faithful Friend,
And whilst th'obliged Aphelia has breath
T'express, and pow'r to gratifie his favours,
I'le pay my thanks in heaping honours on him.
King.
How fond she is. She can't forbear to praise him.
If her loose tongue can be so Prodigal
To one whom she supposes thinks her honest,
What are her private thoughts. I am distracted.
Aph.
This kind, good man—
King.
Damnation seize him for't.
'Tis but too plain. Since she can be Unchast;
If such a sacred form can bear such stains,
I cannot wonder at the ancient Romans
That made their Gods Adulterers.
Nigrello
What read'st thou in our brow?
Nigr.
A fond desire
To be deceived. A flattering kind of hope
That fair Aphelia may be honest still.
67
A setled resolution my black Genius,
Not to be alter'd by the brackish Tears
That flow in pregnant eyes of easie Woman.
Aph.
Why looks my King so alter'd? What strange errour
Has Fate committed; for if any ill
Attend so good a King, 'tis Heav'ns mistake:
It can't be so unjust as to design it.
What chance has made this change; you look as if
A load hung on your thoughts?
King.
Yes, did man-kind
Think half so bad of Hell, as I of thee,
There would not be a Sinner in the World.
Aph.
Am I so terrible? There was a time
Your language flow'd more gently, and Aphelia
Appear'd less frightful. Where's the alteration?
Trust me my Lord, I feel it not. I fear
Some Villany has your pure thoughts infected.
King.
Why did the over-sight of Heav'n lay out
Such vast expence to Beautifie a Face,
And form the Soul of such a different mould?
Cruel Aphelia, cruel to thy self,
T'obscure such Excellence, Eclipse such Light:
Is that a Brow fit for eternal Night?
How could a wanton heat, or loose desire,
Lodge in that Breast, till the fair seat took fire:
Whose spreading flames have all your glories crusht,
Ruin'd your Fame, and laid your Pride in dust?
Why this strange fall—why this Lethardick passion?
I am too milde for an affronted King;
Thy Treasons are too loud to be discours'd
So tamely. Oh thou infamous base Woman,
What sawcy Devil tempted thy hot blood
To prostitute thy Virtue, shame thy Birth,
Betray thy Credulous King, and damn thy Soul?
Aph.
I am all horrour. Oh my startled senses!
What means my King?
68
To use thee just as coursly
As thou hast done thy honour: Take her hence.
Aph.
Sir, do but hear me—
King.
Convey her hence, and let her talk to morrow;
My ears have been too busie for one day.
Aph.
Then I am satisfied; if I have leave
To speak my Innocence before my Death,
I thank kind Heav'n, my courage is so high,
Whate're's my doom, I can obey, and dye.
Exit Nigrello leading Aphelia.
King.
If so much Innocence, and so much Beauty
Can be corrupted; if Aphelia can
Turn Whore, why may not all man-kind
Mistrust their Fathers, and suspect their Births?
Their Mothers are less fair, and why more honest.
Who knows, but whilst the Husbands arms embrace
The seeming honest Wife, her wanton fancy
May in a stragling fit, fix on a Satyr,
Or some more lustful favourite; and her issue,
Though 'tis got lawfully, be conceiv'd a Bastard.
Exit.
Scene the last
The Scene a Grotto.Enter Lewis, Brisac, Souldiers with a Page carrying a dark Lanthorn.
Lew.
Upon your Lives, let no man pass that way;
Make that your Post.
Bris.
Your Grace shall be obey'd.
Lew.
So if the darkness of the place protects him,
If he escapes my hands, he'l fall in yours.
Exeunt.
The Scene open'd; Clarmount and Fredigond are discover'd together.
Enter Lewis.
Clarm.
Here all our joys are safe; no envious eyes,
69
Nor can ill Fate our secure Loves betray:
No fire can guide a Jealous King this way.
Ferd.
Oh my dear Clarmount, 'twas unkindly done
To have my pleasures hinder'd by my Son,
Considering 'twas I that made him King;
'Twas I that set his Fathers soul on wing.
Lew.
Ye Gods, what a discovery have I made:
Had she a hand too in my Fathers Murder!
Aside.
Fred.
And yet Heav'n knows how I abhor'd the sin;
Yet for thy sake could act it o're agen:
To kill a Husband, was a crime so horrid,
As startled me to enter in my thoughts,
Till Love presented me objects so gay,
As instantly drew the dark Scene away.
Clarm.
We are betray'd.
Lew.
Stir Traytor, and thou dyest:
[Holds a Dagger at his Breast.
Brisac.
Enter Brisac, Nigrello, and Souldiers.
Bris.
My Lord.
Lew.
That Monster is thy charge.
Clarm.
Nigrello in the Plot. Oh credulous Fool!
Lew.
Thou glorious Light, that in thy natural Orbe
Did'st comfortably shine upon this Kingdom,
How is thy worth Ecclips'd? what a dull darkness
Hangs round about thy Fame? in all this piece
To every limb whereof, I once owed duty:
I know not now where to find out my Mother.
Queen.
The Devil and disobedience blinds your eyes.
Lew.
Oh that I had no eyes, so you no shame:
Murder your Husband to arrive at Lust,
And then to lay the blame on Innocence:
Blush, blush, thou worse then Woman.
Queen.
Ha, ha—
Lew.
Hold my heart.
70
Made you thus Valiant?
Queen.
How darest thou cloath thy speech in such a phrase
To me thy Mother?
Lew.
Adultrate Woman, shame of Royalty;
I blush to call thee Mother, yes to think it.
Whilst I reflect upon thy tainted blood,
I doubt the pureness of my own. The spring head
Defiled, who knows but the under stream may be
Corrupted: I am all distraction,
And dare not talk too long on such a subject,
Least wildness conquering my softer sense,
Thrust forth my hand into an act of horrour.
Queen.
Insolent Boy, wilt thou turn Parracide?
Lew.
The justice of my cause would well excuse
Me, if I should. Nigrello.
Nigr.
Sir, your pleasure?
Lew.
Nature forbids me spill my Mothers blood,
And Clarmount is unfit for my Revenge;
For I must study torments for the Villain.
This is the Night that the Confederates
Begin the work: Therefore I give 'em up
To thy Tuition, till I shall return
Victorious, then we'll determine of 'em.
Exeunt Lewis and Brisac.
Queen.
Did I for this, ungrateful Traytor, trust
My honour in thy hands?
Clar.
Did she for this
Bestow her Princely smiles on thee; prefer thee,
Rayse thee to honour, and rewards above—
Nigr.
No more; I have no time for words or thoughts
Of any thing but Justice; take 'em hence,
And lodge 'em in that Dungeon which I told you.
Exeunt Fregidond and Clarmount forced out by Guards.
71
Aphelia has been Debaucht by Clarmount.
And this Nights work
Strengthens that Faith; for Clarmount being removed,
By his strange and sudden absence, 'twill be thought
He lyes conceal'd, and that concealment seem
Th'effect of guilt, by which I'le work the King
To a belief he thinks his crime discover'd,
And is retired t'avoyd the punishment.
What prospect of Revenge am I arriv'd to.
Their confidence in my Honesty destroys 'em.
What safer policy then seeming just?
The greatest prop of Treachery is Trust.
[Exeunt.
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