 | Injur'd Love : or, The Cruel Husband |  |
56
ACT V.
SCENE opens and discovers Brachiano in Bed, Vittoria, Flamineo, Ludovico and Attendants.Vitt.
O my good Lord!
Bra.
Away, you have abus'd me:
You have convey'd Coin from our Territories,
Bought and sold Offices, opprest the Poor,
And I ne'er dreamt on't: Make up your Accounts,
I'll now be my own Steward.
Lud.
Sir, have Patience.
Bra.
Indeed I am to blame;
For did you ever hear the dusky Raven
Chide Blackness? Was it ever known the Devil
Rail'd against cloven Creatures?
Vitt.
O my Lord!
Bra.
Let me have Quails to Supper.
Fla.
Sir, you shall.
Bra.
No; some fry'd Dog-fish; your Quails feed on Poison;
That old Dog-fish, that Politician Florence.
I'll forswear Hunting, and turn Dog-killer.
Rare! I'll be Friends with him, for (mark ye) one Dog
Still sets another another a barking—Peace, peace,
Yonder's a fine Slave come in now.
Fla.
Where?
Bra.
Why there,
In a blew Bonnet, and a Pair of Breeches with a great Codpice: Ha! ha! ha!
Look you, his Codpice is stuck full of Pins
With Pearls o'th' Head of 'em. Do not you know him?
57
No my Lord.
Bra.
I'll Dispute with him, he's a rare Linguist.
Vitt.
My Lord here's nothing.
Bra.
Nothing? Rare? Nothing when I want Money?
Our Treasury is empty, there is nothing,
I'll not be used thus.
Vitt.
Good my Lord lye still.
Bra.
See, see, Flamineo that kill'd his Brother,
Is dancing on the Ropes there;
And he carry's a Money-bag in each Hand to keep him even,
For fear of breaking's Neck: And there's a Lawyer
In a Gown whipt with Velvet, stares and gapes
When the Money will fall: How the Rogue cuts Capers,
It should ha' been a Halter.
'Tis there what's shee.
Fla.
Vittoria my Lord.
Bra.
Ha, ha: Her Hair is sprinkled with Arras Powder,
Which makes her look as she had sinn'd 'ith Pastry.
Vitt.
This is desperate Frenzy.
Bra.
Look you, Six gray Catts that have lost their Tails,
Crawl up the Pillow, and send for a Rattcatcher.
I'll free the Court
From all foul Vermin. Where Flamineo.
Fla.
I do not like that, he names me so often,
Especially on's Death-bed, 'tis a Sign I shall not live long.
Vitt.
He has rav'd himself quite out of Spirits;
Cordial here; rear up his Head gently.
[Antonio and Gasp. enter in their Capuchins Habit.
Ant.
Now Sir,
To Ludovico.
How speeds our Operation?
Lud.
Beyond our Wishes,
He has had strange Deliriums; Talkt of Battles
Monopolies, and leavying of Taxes,
Issuing Proclamations; and from thence descends
To the most Brain sick Language; now hee's still
With meer expence of Spirits.
Gasp.
A sure Sign that he draws near his End.
58
A fit time
For us to practise our last Tortures on him.
Gasp.
Lett's to work then, before he's spent too far,
For should he first grow Sensless, our Sport's marr'd.
Ant.
By your leave Sirs, you see he's just departing,
His Speech has left him, you must do so too,
And leave us two to whisper in his Ear
Some private Meditations, which our Order
Permits not you to hear.
[The Company goes out.
Lud.
Be sure you worry him.
Gasp.
Prometheus,
When languishing in Chains had but one Vulture,
He shall have two.
[The Company being gone out, Antonio and Gasp. discover themselves, and seize Brachiano.
Ant.
Brachiano.
Gasp.
Miscreant.
Ant.
Hell-hound.
Gasp.
Hear you Slave,
You that were held the famous Politician,
Whose Art was Poyson,
Ant.
And whose Conscience Murder.
Gasp.
That would have broke your Wive's Neck down Stairs,
Ere she was poyson'd.
Ant.
That had your Villanous Sallads,
Gasp.
And fine embroider'd Bottles and Perfumes,
Equally mortal with a Winter Plague.
Ant.
Now there's Mercury,
Gasp.
And Coprose,
Ant.
And Quicksilver,
With other divelish Apothecary's Stuff,
A Jumbling in your Politick Brains—Dost hear?
Gasp.
I am Gasparo.
Ant.
Antonio I.
Gasp.
Thou shalt dye like a Scoundril, Vagabond Rogue.
Ant.
Stink like a Fly-blow, Dead-Ditch Dog;
Gas.
And be forgotten ere thy Funeral Sermon.
Bra.
Vittoria, Vittoria!
Ant.
O the cursed Negromancer
59
[They put on their Cowls again hastily.
Gasp.
What shall's do now?
Ant.
Take this and strangle him in Private,
[The Company return.
What will you call him again to suffer treble Torments,
O for Charity, for Charity avoid the Chamber.
[they go out again.
Gasp.
You would prate Sir, This is a true Love's Knot
Sent from the Duke of Florence.
[Strangles him.
Ant.
What is't done?
Gasp.
The Snuff is out; no Woman-keeper i'th' World,
Tho' she had practis'd seven years at the Pest-House,
Could have don't quaintlier.
[The Company return.
My Lord he's dead.
Omn.
Peace to his Grace.
Vitt.
O me! This Place is Hell.
Lud.
How heartily she takes it.
Fla.
Yes, yes,
Had Women Navigable Rivers in their Eyes,
They would dispend them all. I'll tell thee,
These are but Moonish shades of Griefs and Fears,
There's nothing sooner dry, than Women's Tears.
Lud.
This must be Florence's doing,
Fla.
Very likely.
Yet how demure his Looks are! O the Art,
The modest Form of greatness that does sit
Like Brides at Wedding Dinners.
Lud.
Whosoever sent him his Dispatch, he's dead,
And now—
The People have full liberty to talk
And discant on his Vices.
Fla.
Misery of Princes?
That must of force be censured by their Slaves:
Nor only blam'd for doing things are ill,
But for not doing all that all Men will.
One had better be a Thresher,
Blood, Fire, I'd fain speak with this Duke yet.
Lud.
What now he's dead?
60
I'll speak to him, and shake him by the Hand,
Tho' I be blasted.
[Exit Flam.
Lud.
At your own Peril Sir.
Now Gentlemen we are private tell me truly,
Did you both terrifie him at his last Gasp.
Ant.
Yes, and so rudely, that the Duke had like
To have terrify'd us.
Lud.
As how, I pray?
[Enter Zanch.
Gasp.
You shall know that hereafter—
See yonder your black Succubus that haunts you,
She rolls her hideous Eye-balls, and looks big
With some Infernal Message.
Lud.
She has promis'd me,
The Revelation of some dreadful Secret.
I long for the dark Oracle: Stand by,
You are passionately met in this sad World.
[To Zanch.
Zan.
You should look up, Sir; these Court Tears,
Claim not that Tribute to 'em. Let those Weep,
That guiltily partake in the sad Cause.
I knew last Night by a sad Dream I had,
Some Mischief would ensue; yet to say Truth,
My Dream was most of you.
Gasp.
Mark her, I prithee, how she Simpers like
[To Ant.
The Suds a Collier had been wash'd in.
Zan.
Come, Sir, good Fortune tends you; I did tell you,
I would reveal a Secret to you—Isabella,
The Duke of Florence's Sister, was Poison'd
By a fum'd Picture, and Camillo's Neck
Was broke by curst Flamineo: The Mischance
Laid on a Vaulting-Horse.
Lud.
Most Strange!
Zan.
Most True!
Lud.
The Bed of Snakes is broke.
Zanch.
I sadly do confess I had a hand
In the black Deed.
Lud.
Thou kept'st their Counsel.
61
Right.
For which to make amends, I intend,
This night to Rob Vittoria.
Lod.
Excellent Amends!
Usurers Dream on't when they sleep out Sermons.
Zanch.
To farther our Escape, I have entreated
Leave to retire me till the Funeral's o're,
To a Friend i'th Country: That excuse
Will succour our Escape: In Coin and Jewels,
I shall at least make good to our own Use,
A hundred thousand Crowns.
Lod.
These Crowns we'l share.
Zan.
It is a Dowry,
Methinks should make the Sun-burnt Proverb false,
And wash the Ethiop White.
Lod.
It shall; away.
Zan.
Be ready for our Flight.
Ex. Zanch.
An hour 'fore Day.
A strange Discovery.
Why Gentlemen, till now we knew not
The Circumstance of Isabella's Death,
And of Camillo's less.
Zan.
You'l wait at Midnight; i'th Chappel.
Zan. comes back.
Lod.
There.
Ex. Zan.
Ant.
Now, Sir, what News from Pluto's Court!
Lod.
Retire with me and I'll inform you all,
More Food for our Revenge, that I can tell you,
We must to work again—the Presence Enters.
Enter Giovani weeping, Attendants after him, from the other side Flamineo.
Fla.
'Tis a dull sullen Corps, he take States on him, and would not
answer me one word. Ha! the young Prince.
Prince 'Tis a sweet Prince.
Yet have I known a poor Woman's Bastard better favoured. This behind
him; for to his Face I shall use other Language. Wise was
the Court Peacock, who being compared for Beauty to the Kingly
62
Eagle, said, the respect of her Feathers, but in respect of her long
Tallons—His will grow out in time.—
My gracious Lord—
Gio.
I pray Sir leave me.
Fla.
Your Grace must be Merry, 'tis we have cause to Weep.
For wot you Sir, what said the little Boy that rode behind his
Father a Horseback—
Gio.
Away Buffoon.
But that's not your worst Character—I charge you on Forfeiture
of Life to quit our Palace.
Exit Giov. and Attendants.
Fla.
Do's he make a Court Ejectment of me? A flaming Firebrand
casts more Smoak without a Chimney than within;
I'll smother some of them.
How now! thou art sad.
[Enter a Servant.
Serv.
I melt even now with the most piteous Sight.
Fla.
Thou meet'st another here, a pitiful degraded Courtier.
Servt.
Your Reverend Mother,
Is grown a very old Woman in two hours:
I found them winding of Marcello's Coarse;
And there is such a solemn Melody,
'Tween doleful Songs, Tears and sad Elegies.
Such as old Grandams watching by the dead
were won't to out were the Nights with; that believe me,
I had no Eyes to guide me forth the room.
They were so'ore charg'd with Water.
Fla.
I will see them.
Serv.
'Twill be uncharitable in you, for your sight will add
unto their Tears.
Fla.
I will see them.
They are behind the Travers; I'll discover
Their superstitious Howlings.
Ha! I can stand thee. Nearer, nearer yet.
What a mockery hath Death made thee? thou look'st sad.
In what place art thou? in your starry Gallery,
Enter Brachianos Ghost in his Leather Cassock, and Breeches, Boots, a Coal. A pan of Lilly Flowers with a Scull in't.
Or in the cursed Dungeon? no! not speak?
Pray Sir, resolve me, is it in your knowledge
To answer me how long I have to live?
Not answer? Are you still like some great Men,
63
And to no purpose? say,—
The Ghost throws Earth upon him and shews him the Scull
What's that? O Fatal! he throws dirt upon me.
A dead man's Scull beneath the roots of Flowers,
I pray speak, Sir, Our Italian Church-men
Make us believe, dead men hold Conference
With their Familiars, and many times
Will come to bed to them, and eat with them.
He's gone; and see, the Scull and Earth are vanish'd.
Exit Ghost.
This is beyond melancholy; I do dare my fate
To do it's worst. Now to my Sister's Lodging,
And sum up all these horrors; the disgrace
The Prince threw on me; next the piteous sight of my dead
Brother; and my Mother's Dotage;
And last, this terrible Vision; all these
Shall with Vittoria's Bounty turn to good,
Or I will drown this Weapon in her Blood.
Exit.
SCENE 3d
Vittoria's Apartment.Vittoria to Zanche. Vitt. with a Book in her hand.
Song.
Flamineo Enters.
Fla.
What! are you at your Prayers? give o're.
Vitt.
How Ruffian?
Fla.
I come to you about worldly business.
Sit down, sit down, nay stay Blouse, you may hear it,
The doors are fast enough.
Vitt.
Ha, are you drunk?
Fla.
Yes, yes, with Wormwood Water, you shall tast
Some of it presently.
Vitt.
What intends the Fury?
Fla.
You are my Lord's Executrix, and I claim
Reward for my long Service.
Vitt.
For your Service?
64
Come therefore, here is a Pen and Ink, set down
What you will give me.
Vitt.
There.
[She writes.
Fla.
Ha! have you done already?
'Tis a most short Conveyance.
Vitt.
I will read it.
I give that Portion to thee, and no other
Which Cain groan'd under, having slain his Brother.
Fla.
A most courtly Patent to beg by.
Vitt.
You are a Villain.
Fla.
Is't come to this? They say Affrights cure Agues:
Thou hast a Devil in thee, I will try
If I can scare him from thee; nay, sit still.
My Lord hath left me two Case of Jewels
Shall make me scorn your Bounty, you shall see them.
[Exit.
Vitt.
Sure he's distracted.
Zan.
O he's desparate.
[Returns with two Case of Pistols.
For your own Safety give him gentle Language.
Fla.
Look, these are better far at a dead Lift,
Than all your Jewel-house.
Vitt.
And yet methinks,
These Stones have no fair Lustre, they are ill set.
Fla.
I'll turn the right side towards you; you shall see how they will sparkle,
Vitt.
Turn the Horrour from me:
What do you want? What would you have me do?
Is not all mine yours, have I any Children?
Fla.
Trouble me not
With this vain worldly Business; say your Prayers.
I made a Vow to my deceased Lord,
Neither your self nor I should out-live him
The Numbring of four hours.
Vitt.
Did he enjoyn it?
Fla.
He did, and 'twas a deadly Jealousie,
Lest any should enjoy you after him,
That urg'd him to vow me to it; for my own Death,
I did propound it voluntarily; knowing,
If he could not be safe in his own Court,
Being a great Duke, what hope then for us?
65
This is your Melancholy and Despair.
Fla.
Away; Fool thou art, to think that Politicians,
Do use to kill the Effects of Injuries,
And let the Cause live. Shall we groan in Irons,
Or be a shameful, and a weighty Burthen
To a publick Scaffold? This is my Resolve;
I would not live at any Man's Intreaty,
Nor dye at any's bidding.
Vitt.
Will you hear me?
Fla.
My Life hath done Service to other Men,
My Death shall serve my own turn, make you ready.
Vitt.
Do you mean to die indeed?
Fla.
With as much Pleasure as 'ere my Father 'gat me.
Vitt.
Are the Doors lockt?
Zan.
Yes, Madam.
Vitt.
Are you grown an Atheist? Will you turn your Body
Which is the goodly Palace of the Soul,
To the Soul's Slaughter-house. Cry out for help.
Zan.
Help, help.
Fla.
I'll stop your Throat with Winter-Plums.
Vitt.
I prethee yet remember.
Fla.
Leave your prating, it moves not me.
Zan.
Gentle Madam,
Seem to consent, only perswade him to teach
The way to Death; let him dye first.
Vitt.
'Tis good, I apprehend it;
To kill ones self is Food that we must take
Like Pills; not chew't, but quickly swallow it:
The Smart o'th' Wound, or Weakness of the Hand,
May else bring treble Torments.
Fla.
I have held it
A wretched and most miserable Life
Which cannot dare to dye.
Vitt.
O, but Frailty!
Yet I am now resolv'd: Farewel Affliction:
Behold Brachiano, I that while you liv'd,
Did make a Flaming Altar of my Heart,
To sacrifice unto you; now am ready
66
Zan.
How Madam, do you think that I'll out-live you?
Especially when my best self, Flamineo,
Goes the same Voyage.
Fla.
O most lov'd Moor!
Zan.
Only for all my Love let me intreat you,
Since it is most necessary one of us
Do Violence on our selves, let you or I,
Be her sad Taster, teach her how to dye.
Fla.
Thou dost instruct me nobly; take these Pistols,
Because my Hand is stain'd with Blood already,
Two of these you shall level at my Breast;
Th'other against your own; and so we'll dye
Most equally contented: but first promise,
Not to out-live me.
Vitt. & Zan.
Most Religiously.
Fla.
Then here's an end of me, Farewel Day-light.
Are you ready?
Both.
Ready.
Fla.
Whither shall I go now?
Whether I resolve to Fire, Earth, Water, Air,
Or all the Elements, by Scruples, I know not,
Shoot, shoot.
Of all Deaths, the violent Death is best;
[They shoot, he falls.
For from our selves it steals our selves so fast,
The Pain once apprehended, is quite past.
Vitt.
What, are you dropt?
Fla.
I am mixt with Earth already! As you are Noble,
Perform your Vows, and bravely follow me:
Vitt.
Whither?
Zan.
To most assured Destruction?
Vitt.
O thou perfidious!
Zan.
Thou art caught—
Vitt.
In thy own Engine: Thus I tread the Fire out
[They tread upon him.
That would have been my Ruin.
Fla.
Will you be perjur'd?
Vitt.
Think whither thou art going.
Zan.
And remember what Villanies
Thou hast acted.
67
O, I am caught with a Springe!
Kill'd by a Brace of Lurchers.
O the way's dark and horrid! I cannot see;
Shall I have no Company;
Wilt thou out-live me?
Zan.
Yes, and drive a Stake
Through thy Carcass; for we'll give it out,
Thou did'st this Violence upon thy self.
Fla.
O cunning Furies, now I have try'd your Love,
[He rises.
And double all your Reaches; I am not wounded;
The Pistols held no Bullets; 'twas a Plot
To prove your Kindness to me; and I live
To punish your Ingratitude.
O Men that lie upon your Death-beds, and are haunted
With howling Wives; ne'er trust them, they'll Re-marry,
Eat the Worm-piece your Winding-sheet, 'ere the Spider
Make a thin Curtain for your Epitaphs.
Vitt.
Help, help!
Fla.
What Noise is that? Ha! false Keys i'th' Court!
Lod.
We have brought you a Mask.
[Noise without, enter Lod. Ant. Gasp.
A Machine it seems
By your drawn Swords. Church-men turn'd Revellers!
Gas.
Isabella! Isabella!
Lod.
Do you know us now?
Fla.
Lodovica! and Gasparo!
Vitt.
O, we are lost!
Fla.
You shall not take Justice from forth my Hands.
O let me kill her,—else I'll cut my Safety
Through your Coats of Steel: Fate's a Spaniel,
We cannot beat it from us; What remains now?
Let all that do ill take this President:
Gas.
Bind him to the Pillar.
Vitt.
O your gentle Pity:
I have seen a Black-bird that would sooner fly
To a Man's Bosom, than to stay the Gripe
Of the fierce Sparrow-Hawk.
Gas.
Your Hope deceives you.
Vitt.
If Florence were i'th' Court, he would not kill me,
68
Fool! Princes give Rewards with their own Hands,
But Death, or Punishment, by the Hands of others.
Lod.
Sarrah, you once did strike me; I'll strike you now to the Center.
Fla.
Thou'lt do it like a Hang-man, a base Hang-man,
I cannot strike again.
Lod.
Dost laugh?
Fla.
Would'st have me die, as I was born whining?
Lod.
O could I kill you forty times a Day,
And use it for Years together.
What dost think on?
Fla.
Nothing, of nothing; leave thy idle Questions;
I am i'th' way to study a long Silence;
To prate were idle.
Lod.
O thou glorious Strumpet!
Could I divide thy Breath, from this pure Air,
When't Leaves thy Body, I would suck it up,
And breath't upon some Dunghill,
Vitt.
You my Deaths—man!
Methinks thou dost not look horrid enough,
Thou ha'st too good a Face to be a Hangman:
If thou be, do thy Office, in right Form;
Fall down upon thy knees and ask Forgiveness.
Lod.
O thou hast been a most prodigious Comet,
But 'Ile cut off your Train: kill the Moor first.
Vitt.
You shall not kill her First, behold my Breast,
I will be waited on in Death, my Servant
Shall never go before me.
Gas.
Are you so brave?
Vitt.
Yes, I shall welcome Death,
As Princes do some great Embassadors,
Meet him half way.
Lod.
Do'st thou not tremble?
Methinks fear should dissolve thee into Air.
Vitt.
O thou art deceiv'd, I am too true a Woman:
Conceit will never kill me: Il'e tell thee what,
I will not in my Death shed one base tear,
Or if look pale for want of blood, not fear.
Gas.
Thou art my Task, black Fury.
69
As red as either of theirs. Wilt drink some?
'Tis good for the Falling Sickness. I am proud
Death cannot alter my Complection:
For I shall near look pale.
Lod.
Strike with a joint motion.
Vitt.
It was a Manly blow;
The next thou give'st, murder some sucking Infant,
And then thou wil't be Famous.
Fla.
That's well put:
Thou art a Noble Sister;
I love thee now:
Vitt.
My Soul, like to a Ship in a black Storm
Is driven I know not whither.
Fla.
Then cast Anchor.
We cease to grieve, cease to be Fortunes Slaves;
Nay, cease to Dye, by Dying.
Thou art gon, and I am in a mist.
Vitt.
O, happy they that never saw a Court,
Nor never knew great men, but by Report.
[Vitt. Dies.
Fla.
I recover like a spent Taper, for a Flash,
And instantly go out.
My Life was a black Charnel: I have caught,
An Everlasting Cold. I have lost my Voice.
Most irrecoverably: Farewell glorious Villains;
Let no harsh Flattering Bells resound my knell,
Strike Thunder and Strike Loud to my Farwell.
[Dies.
Enter Embassador and Giovian.
Eng. Em:
This way, this way, break open the Doors this way.
Lod:
Ha, are we betray'd?
Why then Let's instantly Dye altogether,
And having Finish'd this most Noble Deed,
Defie the worst of Fate, nor Fear to Bleed.
Eng. Em.
Keep back the Prince; Shoot, Shoot,
Lod.
O, I am wounded;
I fear I shall be ta'ne.
70
You bloody Villains,
By what Authority have you Committed
This Massacre?
Lod.
By mine.
Gio.
Thine!
Gas.
Yes.
Lod.
Thy Unkle, which is part of thee, enjoyn'd us to't.
Thou knows't me I am sure; I am Count Loderick,
Gio.
Ha!
Gas.
Yes: That Moor, thy Father chose his Pensioner.
Gio.
He turn'd Murtherer.
Away with them to Prison and to Torture.
All that have hands in this, shall taste our Justice.
Lod.
I doe Glory yet,
That I can call this Act my own. For my part,
The Rack, the Gallows, and the tortrous Wheel.
Shall be but sound Sleep to me! here's my Rest:
I Limb'd this Night-piece, and it is my best.
Gio.
Remove the Bodies; see my Honour'd Lord,
What use we ought to make of their punishment.
Let Guilty Men remember, their Black Deeds,
Do lean on Crutches, made of Slender Reeds
| Injur'd Love : or, The Cruel Husband | |