 | Injur'd Love : or, The Cruel Husband |  |
ACT III.
SCENE I.
Enter Brachiano and a Magician.Bra.
Now Sir I claim your Promise, 'tis dead Midnight,
The time prefix't to shew me by your Art
How the intended Murder of our Dutchess
Proceeds to Action.
Mag.
Noble Sir,
You've won me by your Bounty to a Deed,
I do not care to Practise.
Bra.
Do you boggle?
What is it you mistrust, your Skill or me?
Mag.
Neither; tho' some there are, I do confess,
Who by Sophistick Tricks aspire the Name
That I would gladly loose of Necromancer;
But this is such a woful Scene, and you
So principal an Actor, that I fear
'Twill strike you Sir with Horrour.
Bra.
Venture that—
Mag.
Then Sir sit down—Here in this Chair 'tis charm'd,
I'll shew you now by my commanding Art
The Circumstance that breaks your Dutchess's Heart.
A Dumb Shew.
Enter suspiciously Julio and Guiccardo; They draw a Curtain where Brachiano's Picture is; they put on Spectacles of Glass that cover their Eyes and Noses, then burn Perfumes before the Picture, and wash the Lips; then, quenching the Fire, and putting off their Spectacles, go out Laughing.
Enter Isabella as from her Devotion, a Light afore her, Count Loduvico,
Antonio, Giovanni and others waiting on her, she draws
the Curtain of the Picture, and having Giovanni by the Hand,
looks first on the one, then on the other; after paying Reverence,
she kisses the Picture, immediately faints, and will not suffer
them to come near it. Dies. Sorrow exprest in Giovanni, Lodovico,
&c. They carry her out Solemnly.
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Bra.
Excellent! then she's Dead.
Mag.
Yes; Poyson'd
By the sum'd Picture; 'twas her Custom Nightly
Before she went to Bed, to come and visit
Your Picture, and to feed her Eyes and Lips,
On the lov'd shadow: Doctor Julio
Observing this, infects it with an Oil,
And other poyson'd Stuff, which instantly
Did suffocate her Spirits.
Bra.
Methought I saw Count Lodwick there.
Mag.
He was, and though unknown to her,
A passionate Admirer of the Dutchess.
Bra.
Most skilful Sir, you've bound me ever to you;
And let this stand my pledge of farther Payment.
[Ex. Bra.
Mag.
Yes! Dearly hast thou paid,
And dearer yet shalt pay for injur'd Love,
Wretched Brachiano!—Oh cou'dst thou foresee
Thy own, as now, thy Dutchess Tragedy—
But 'tis the Fate of Vice on shelves to run,
And never see the Danger till undone.
[Exit.
SCENE II.
Enter Flamineo.Flam.
I've scap'd the Storm, but left Vittoria Stranded, and
bound in Honour to get her off; but personal Safety is the first
Point of Politicks. I must shift my Flag that's certain; but what
Colours to put up, whether Merry, Melancholy or Mad, is the
Question. The last has most Priviledges belonging: I'll counterfeit
Distraction for the Disgrace of my Sister, 'twill keep of dangerous
Questions. I will talk to any Man, answer no Man; and
for a time be a politick Mad-man.
[Exit.
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Ant.
My Lord, we griev'd for your Departure;
But more for your Return being so dangerous.
'Twas giv'n out here, you were turn'd Pyrat—
Lud.
I was engag'd in such an Expedition,
But summon'd off by the politick Cardinal
And Duke of Florence to some Land-Service,
Some dry State-Mischief, and in such a Post,
Where I'd serve Volunteer.
Gasp.
Against Brachiano.
Lud.
Driv'n by the double force of Love and Spight;
Hatred to him, Love to his Murder'd Dutchess.
Re-enter Flamineo.
Fla.
W' indure the stroaks of Fortune like hard Steel,
Till Pain it self, makes us no Pain to feel.
Who shall do me Right now? Is this the end of Service.
Lud.
What can this mean.
Fla.
O they have wrought their Purpose cunningly,
As if they wou'd not seem to do't of Malice.
Gasp.
Yes, it will out at last I question not
By Proofs most Manifest.
Fla.
Proofs—'Twas Corruption—Gold, what a Prince art
thou! Man, what a Slave art thou—Knaves turn Informers, as
Maggots turn to Flies: You may catch Gudgeons with either—
A Cardinal? What is there so demure, but Money will Corrupt.
Ant.
Can this be Artifice.
Fla.
Savages are honest Folk; here they sell Justice by those
Weights they press Men to Death withal.
Gasp.
Fie Flamineo.
Fla.
Bells never ring well, till they come to their full Pitch;
and the Cardinal never speaks well, till he comes to the Scaffold.
Ant.
Ha! ha! ha!
Fla.
—Farewel—Let others live by Begging, it's none of
am—dost hear me? Practise the Art of Carrion-Eaters, swallow
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that works in a Saw-Pit—I'le go hear the Screech-Owl.
[Exit in a wild manner.
Lud.
This was Brachiano's Pandar, and 'tis strange
That in such open and apparent Guilt
Of his Adulterous Sister, he dares utter
So scandalous a Passion—I must mind him.
Re-enter Flamineo.
Fla.
How dares this Banish't Count return to Rome,
His Pardon not yet purchas'd? I have heard.
[Aside.
The deceas'd Dutchess gave him Pension:
And that he came along from Padua,
I'th' Train of the young Prince—There's somewhat in't,
Physicians that cure Poysons, still do work with Counter-Poysons.
Mark this strange Encounter.
Melancholy turn thy Gall to Poyson,
And let the stigmatick Wrinkles in thy Face,
Like to the boysterous Waves in a rough Tide,
One still overtake another.
Lud.
I do thank thee; and I do wish ingeniously,
For thy sake, the Dog-days all the year long.
Fla.
How croaks the Raven?
Is our good Dutchess dead?
Lud.
Dead.
Fla.
O Fate! Misfortune comes like the Coroner's Business,
Huddle upon Huddle.
Lud.
Shall thou and I joyn House-keeping?
Fla.
Yes, Content.
Lett's be unsociably Sociable.
Lud.
Sit some three days together and Discourse—
Fla.
Only with making faces,
Lye in our Cloaths.
Lud.
With Faggots for our Pillows—
Fla.
And be Lousie—
Lud.
In Taffata Linings; that's gentile Melancholy:
Sleep all Day.
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Yes: And like your melancholy Hare,
Feed after Midnight.
Lud.
We'l never part.
Fla.
Never, till the Beggary of Courtiers,
The Discontent of Church-men, Want of Soldiers,
Be taught in our two Lives,
[Enter Antonio and Gaspara.
To Scorn that World, which Life of means deprives.
Ant.
My Lord I bring good News: The Pope on's Death-bed,
At the earnest Suit of the great Duke of Florence,
Hath sign'd your Pardon, and restor'd unto you—
Lud.
I thank you for your News, look up again
Flamineo, see my Pardon.
Fla.
Why do you Laugh?
There was no such Condition in our Covenant.
Lud.
Why?
Fla.
You shall not seem a happier Man than I,
You know our Vow Sir, if you will be Merry,
Do't with a sabby Politician's Face.
Lud.
Your Sister is a damnable Whore.
Fla.
Ha?
Lud.
Look you, I spake that Laughing.
Fla.
Dost ever think to speak again.
Lud.
Do you hear?
Wil't sell me forty Ounces of her Blood,
To water a Mandrake.
Fla.
I do not greatly wonder you did break,
Your Lordship learnt long since, but I'le tell you.
Lud.
What?
Fla.
And't shall stick by you.
Lud.
I long for it.
Fla.
This Laughter scurvily becomes your Face,
[Strikes him.
If you will not be melancholy be Angry.
Mar.
You're to blame, I'le force you hence.
[Ex. Mar. and Fla.
Lud.
Unhand me,
That e'er I should be forc'd to right my self
Upon a Pandar!
Ant.
My Lord!
Lud.
H'had as good met with his Fist a Thunder-bolt.
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How this shews?
Lud.
Misfortune, how did my Sword miss him?
These Rogues that are most weary of their Lives,
Still scape the greatest Dangers.
But let him go, all his Reputation,
Nay, all the Goodness of his Family,
Is not worth half this Earthquake;
I learnt it of no Fencer to shake thus:
Come Sirs—the next turn's Mine.
[Exeunt.
SCENE III.
Enter Brachiano at one Door, Francisco and Montacelsi at the contrary.Bra.
Now you and I are Friends, Sir, we'll shake hands,
In a Friend's Grave together; a fit Place,
Being the Emblem of soft Peace, to atone our Hatred.
Fra.
Sir, what's the Matter?
Bra.
I will not chase more Blood from that lov'd Cheek:
You have lost too much already—Fare you well.
[Exit.
Fra.
How strange these Words sound! What's th'Interpretation?
Fla.
Good: This is a Preface to the Discovery of the Dutchess's
Death; he carries it well—Because now I cannot counterfeit
a whining Passion for the Death of my Lady, I will feign a mad
Humour for the Disgrace of my Sister, and that will keep off
idle Questions: I will talk to any Man, hear no Man, and for a
time appear a Politick Madman.
[Exit.
Enter Giovanni in Mourning, Ludovico, Gasparo, Antonio, Attendants.
Fra.
How now my noble Cosin? What, in Black?
Giov.
Yes, Uncle; I was taught to imitate you
In Virtue, and you must imitate me
In Colour of your Garments; my sweet Mother
Is—
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How! Where?
Giov.
Is there—no, yonder:—Indeed, Sir, I'll not tell you,
For I shall make you weep.
Fra.
Is dead.
Giov.
Do not blame me now,
I did not tell you so.
Lud.
She's dead, my Lord.
Mont.
Unhappy Lady!
Thou art now above thy Woes.
Wil't please your Lordships to withdraw a little.
Giov.
What do the Dead do, Uncle? Do they eat,
Hear Musick, go a Hunting and be merry,
As we that live?
Fra.
No, Cuz, they sleep.
Giov.
Sleep!—That I were dead then,
I have not slept these six Nights—When do they awake?
Fra.
Sweet Innocence!
Giov.
Let her sleep ever, for I have known her wake a hundred Nights;
When all the Pillow where she laid her Head,
Was brine wet with her Tears—I am to complain to you, Sir.
I'll tell you how they've us'd her now she's dead
They wrapt her in a cruel Fold of Lead,
And would not let me kiss her.
Fra.
Thou did'st love her.
Giov.
I've often heard her say she gave me suck,
And it should seem by that she dearly lov'd me,
Since Princes seldom do it.
Fra.
O All of my poor Sister that remains!
Take him away for pity.
Mon.
How now, my Lord?
Fra.
Believe me, I am nothing but her Grave,
And I shall keep her blessed Memory,
Longer than thousand Epitaphs.
Mont.
Come, my Lord, now we are alone let me entreat you,
Untie your folded Thoughts, and let them dangle loose, as a Bride's Hair.
Your Sister's poison'd.
Fra.
Far be it from my Thoughts to seek Revenge.
Mon.
What, Are you turn'd all Marble?
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Shall I defy him, and impose a War
Most burthensom on my poor Subjects Necks,
Which at my Will I have not Power to end.
Mon.
That's not the Course I'de wish you; pray observe,
We see that Undermining more prevails,
Than doth the Cannon. Bear your Wrongs conceal'd,
And patient as the Tortoise; let this Camel
Stalk o'er your Back unbruis'd: Sleep with the Lion,
And let this Brood of secure foolish Mice,
Play with your Nostrils, till the time be ripe
For th'bloody Audit, and the fatal Gripe.
Fra.
Free me, my Innocence, from treacherous Acts,
I know there's Thunder yonder: and I'll stand,
Like a safe Valley, which low bends the Knee
To some aspiring Mountain:
To pass away these Thoughts, my honour'd Lord,
It is reported you possess a Book
Wherein you have quoted, by Intelligence,
The Names of all notorious Offenders,
Lurking about the City.
Mon.
Sir, I do; and some there are, who call it my black Book.
Fra.
Pray let's see it.
Mon.
I will not trust thee, but in all my Plots,
[Aside.
I'll rest as jealous as a Town besieg'd;
Thou canst not reach what I intend to act;
Your Flax soon kindles, soon is out again,
But Gold slow heats, and long will hot remain.
'Tis here, my Lord.
[Presents a Book to Fran.
Fra.
First your Intelligencers, pray let's see,
Their Number rises strangely.
Mon.
And some of them,
You'd take for honest Men, the rest are Panders;
These are your Pyrates; and these following Leaves
For base Rogues, that undo young Gentlemen
By taking up Commodities; for Politick Bankrupts,
For Fellows that are Bawds to their own Wives.
Fra.
Are there such?
Mon.
These are impudent Bawds,
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That share with Scriv'ners for a good Report;
For Lawyers that will antedate their Deeds;
Here is a general Catalogue of Knaves:
A Man might study all the Prisons o'er,
Yet never attain this Knowledge.
Fra.
Murderers; fold down the Leaf I pray:
Good my Lord, let me borrow this strange Doctrine,
Mon.
Pray use't my Lord.
Fra.
I do assure your Lordship,
You are a worthy Member of the State,
And have done vast good in your Discovery,
Of these Offenders.
Mon.
Somewhat Sir.
Fra.
Better than Tribute of Wolves paid in England.
'Twill hang their Skins o'th Hedge.
Mon.
I must make bold,
To leave your Lordship.
[Exit Monticelso.
Fra.
Dear Sir I thank you.
If any ask for me at Court, report,
You have left me in the Company of Knaves.
Now to the use I'll make of it, it shall serve
To point me out a List of Murderers,
Agents for any Villany.
To fashion my Revenge more seriously,
Let me remember my dead Sister's Face,
Call for her Picture? No, I'll close my Eyes,
And in a melancholy Thought I'll frame
Her Figure for me. Now I hav't—how strong
[Enter Ghost of Isabella.
Imagination works! How she can frame
Things which are not! Methinks she stands afore me,
And by the quick Idea of my Mind,
Were my skill Pregnant, I could draw her Picture;
'Tis my Melancholy.
How cam'st thou by thy Death?—How idle am I,
To question my own Idleness!—Did ever
Man dream awake till now? Remove this Object
Out of my Brain with't, what have I to do
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That have to meditate upon Revenge!
So now 'tis ended, like an old Wife's Story:
[Ghost sinks.
Statesmen think often they see stranger Sights,
Than Mad-men, come to this weighty Business;
My Tragedy must have some idle Mirth in't,
Else it will never pass. I am in Love,
[Sits down thinks.
In Love with Corombona; and my Suit
Thus halts to her in Verse—
[He Writes.
I have done it rarely, O the Fate of Princes!
I am so us'd to frequent Flattery my self;
But it will serve, 'tis Seal'd; who waits bear this
To'th House of Converts; and watch your Leisure,
[Enter Serv.
To give it to the hands of Corombona,
Or to the Matron, when some Followers
Of Brachiano may be by. Away,
[Exit Servant.
The Engine for my Business, bold Count Ludowick,
'Tis Gold must such an Instrument procure,
With empty Fist no Man doth Falcon's Lure.
Brachiano I am now fit for thy Encounter,
Like gathering Thunder my Revenge seems slow,
But fatal when it breaks, you'l find the Blow.
[Ex. Francisco.
SCENE IV.
A Court-Yard before a Cloyster.Enter Matron of the Converts and Flamineo.
Mat.
Should it be known the Duke has such Recourse
To your imprison'd Sister, I were like
T'incur much Damage by it.
Fla.
Not a Scruple.
The Pope is now expir'd, and their wise Heads,
Are troubled now with Business of more Weight,
Than guarding of Ladies.
[Ent. a Servant.
Serv.
Yonder's Flamineo in Conference with the Matron.
Let me speak with you—
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This Letter to the fair Vittoria:
Hereafter you shall know me, and receive
Thanks for this Curtesy.
[Exit.
Fla.
How now, what's that?
Mat.
A Letter.
[Enter Brachiano.
Fla.
To my Sister! I'll see't deliver'd.
Bra.
What's that you read Flamineo?
Fla.
Look.
Bra.
Ha! To the most unfortunate his best respected Vittoria.
Who was the Messenger?
Fla.
I know not.
Bra.
No? Who sent it?
Fla.
You speak as if a Man
Should know what Fowl is coffin'd in a baked Meat,
Before you cut it up.
Bra.
I'll open't, wer't his Heart—What's here Subscrib'd Florence,
This Juggling is too gross and palpable.
Read it.
Fla.
Your Fears I'll turn to Triumphs, be but Mine,
Your Prop is fall'n, it grieves me that a Vine,
Which Princes heretofore have wish'd to gather,
Wanting Supporters, now shou'd fade and wither.
Bra.
Wine, Wine, with Lees would serve his turn.
Fla.
Your sad Imprisonment, I'll soon uncharm,
And with a Princely unresisted Arm,
Bear you to Florence, where my Love and Care,
Shall hang your Wishes in my Silver Heir.
Bra.
A Halter on his damn'd Equivocation.
Flo.
Nor for my years return me the sad Willow,
None prefer Blossoms before fruit that's Mellow.
Bra.
Rotten to my knowledge with lying too long 'ith Beadstraw.
Fla.
And all the Lines of Age, this Line Convinces,
The God's never wax Old, no more do Princes.
Bra.
Tear it, let's ha'no more Atheism.
I have a lucky and surprizing Thought
To Counter-blast this undermining Mole,
O're-reach this Politick Duke in his own Plot.
39
As how my Lord?
Bra.
The self same Project, which the Duke of Florence
Lays down for her Escape, will I Pursue.
Fla.
To steal Vittoria hence.
Bra.
Immediately.
Fla.
And no time fitter than this Night my Lord,
The Pope being Dead, and all the Cardinals entred
The Conclave for Electing a new Pope.
The City in a great Confusion,
We may attire her in a Page's Habit,
And Post away for Padua.
Bra.
We lose Time.
Instantly steal forth the Prince Giovanni,
And straight for Padua—You two with the old Mother,
And young Marcello that attends on Florence,
[If you can work him to it] follow me.
I will Advance you all—for you my dear Vittoria,
Think of a Dutchess Title.
Fla.
This has a Spirit,
And Wings us all like Lightning.
[Exit.
SCENE Continues.
Enter Captain with Guards and a Courtier.
Court.
Here Captain is your Post, your Charge is great,
So be your Care.
Capt.
Sir I shall do my Duty.
Enter Francisco on the other side with Ludovico, Gasparo and Ant. He steps over to the Officer.
Fran.
So my Lord, I do commend your Diligence,
Guard well the Conclave, and as the Order is,
Let none have Conference with the Cardinals.
[He comes back to Lud. Gasp. and Ant.
Remember Gentlemen, you have all sworn
To prosecute the Murder of Brachiano.
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We have Sir.
Lud.
Your bounty Sir will mind 'em of their Promise,
They never fail'd at Mischief. And for me,
Revenge will be your best Remembrancer.
I was enamour'd on Brachiano's Dutchess,
The virtuous Isabella, your fair Sister,
Tho' she ne'er knew it—she was poison'd Sir,
Upon my Life she was, for which I've Sworn
Long since, to avenge her Murder on Brachiano.
Enter Servant.
Fra.
Peace, here comes a Messenger;
If hopes deceive me not, I guess his Errand.
Well Sir, your Business.
Serv.
Vittoria my Lord—
Fra.
What of her?
Serv.
Is fled the City.
Fra.
Fled?
Serv.
With Duke Brachiano.
Fra.
Where's the Prince?
Serv.
Gone with his Father.
Fra.
Let the Matron of the Converts be Apprehended.
Go signifie Our Orders, and see 'em executed—
Exit Servant.
How fortunate are my Wishes! Why 'twas this
I labour'd for; 'twas I that sent the Letter,
T'instruct him what to do, and point the way
To Marry his own Whore.
Gas.
'Twill blast his Fame,
But renders our Attempt more difficult.
Lud.
Already my quick Thoughts suggest the way
How to approach his Person unsuspected
In his own Palace, and amidst his Guards.
Fra.
Most of his Court of my Faction.
Lud.
We but lose time, let's after him to Padua,
Where like a cautious Statesman, I'll instruct you
What your Commission is, when you arrive
The Place of Action.
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I approve that Method.
I only recommend Dispatch, and leave
The rest to Fate and you.
Ant.
Depend upon't,
Fra.
Success attend your Enterprize.
Gasp.
We carry that along with us
In our own firm Resolves.
Fra.
Farewel.
[Exeunt.
Court.
Back there, clear the Way, Room for the Embassadors.
[Embassadors enter to the Conclave.]
Capt.
They are wondrous brave to day, why do they wear
These several Habits.
Court.
O Sir, they are Knights of the several Orders;
That Lord 'ith' black Cloak with the Silver Cross,
Is Knight of Rhodes: The next Knight of St. Michael,
That of the Golden Fleece: The Frenchman there,
Knight of the Sacred Order, my Lord of Savoy
Knight of the Annuntiation; the Englishman
Is Knight of the Honoured Garter. I could describe to you
Their several Institutions, with their Laws
Annexed to their Orders: But you see
The Cardinals Service Marshall'd, and the Officer
Appointed to inspect each Mess that's serv'd in.
[Servants enter with several cover'd Dishes, an Officer Inspecting.]
Off.
Stand, let me search your Dish; Who's this for?
Serv.
For my Lord Cardinal Montacelsi.
Off.
Who's this?
Serv.
For my Lord Cardinal of Bourbon.
Capt.
Why does he search their Dishes?
Court.
To prevent foul Practice.
Lest any Letters should be convey'd in
To bribe or to sollicit the Advancement
Of any Cardinal: When first they enter,
'Tis lawful for the Embassadors of Princes
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For any Candidate their Prince affects.
But after till a general Election,
No man may speak with them.
Capt.
'Tis orderly.
Court.
You that attend the Lords Cardinals,
Open the Window and receive their Viands.
[A Cardinal appears.]
Card.
You must return the Service, the Lords Cardinals are
busy in electing a new Pope. They have giv'n over Scrutiny,
and now are fall'n to Nomination.
Court.
I'll lay a thousand Duckets you hear News of of a Pope
presently,—Hark! surely he's elected.
On the Church Battlements.
Arr.
Annuntio vobis Gaudium, Reverendissimus Cardinalis Lozenzo
de Montacelsi electus est, & elegit sibi Nomen Quartum.
[Flourish and Shouts. Montacelsi in State, follow'd by the Conclave. A Paper deliver'd to him.]
Mont.
Vittoria, my Lords, is fled the City:
Stol'n from the House of Converts, by Brachiano.
Now tho' this be the first Day of our Seat,
We cannot do a more Religious Service
Than by sequestring these two cursed Persons.
Make therefore Publication of our Sentence
Against them both: All that are theirs in Rome,
We likewise banish: On, set on.
[Exeunt.
End of the Third Act.
| Injur'd Love : or, The Cruel Husband | |