 | The Magic Picture |  |
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ACT IV.
SCENE I.
Enter EUGENIUS.EUGENIUS.
This is a desperate straight, there's no avoiding;
I must compliance feign to all
Her passion urges, or—or what? only
That with my life my miseries will end!
But were the pointed axe uplifted now,
My neck upon the block, I would not buy
An hour's reprieve, by such a faithless barter!
Yet after all, Sophia may be false!
The visit of these silken courtiers
Much alarms me, for they've been early train'd
In all the soft and wanton gallantries
That shake the easy faith of yielding woman:
I almost dread to ask for council here!
[Looks on the Picture.
Ha! sure I do not sleep! or if I dream,
This is a terrible vision—I'll clear
My eye-sight—perhaps melancholy makes me
See that which is not!
Enter BAPTISTA.
BAPTISTA.
What is it there you see?
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Indeed, Baptista, 'tis but too apparent;
I grieve to look upon't—besides the yellow,
That does assure she's tempted—I think I see
A sable colour spread its baneful hue
O'er ev'ry line of her once lovely face,
Confirming both her own, and my dishonor!
BAPTISTA.
(Aside.)
—Well may they say that monster Jealousy
Creates the food it feeds on!—Indeed,
I see no alteration.
EUGENIUS.
Fact, Baptista;
Make not yourself a pandar to her vices,
In labouring to palliate, what a mask
Of impudence can't cover—Did woman e'er
In her will decline from chastity, but found means
To give her passion scope?—more possible
Is't with my single arm to underprop
A falling tow'r—or in its violent course
To stop the forked lightning, than to stay
A wanton woman!
BAPTISTA.
Pray you temper the violence of your passion.
EUGENIUS.
Oh, my Baptista! I am headlong thrown
Into a gulph of misery, and find
Myself past hope:—this figure of my idol,
So late that chaste and lovely mirror,
Is to a magic glass transformed, and shews
Nothing but horror and deformity.
BAPTISTA.
I'm sure you do her wrong.
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Have I refus'd a Queen.
Whose soft beauties had ravish'd at first sight
A hermit from his beads, and chang'd his pray'rs
To am'rous sonnets, to preserve my faith
Inviolate to thee; with the hazard of
My death with tortures, to be thus requited?
Yet hold—I will not curse thee, Sophia,
Nor for thy falshood rail against the sex;
'Tis poor and common; I'll only
Whisper unto myself, howe'er they seem,
Nor present, past, nor ages yet to come,
Have heretofore, can now, or ever shall
Produce one constant woman!
BAPTISTA.
This is more
Than the satirists wrote against 'em.
EUGENIUS.
There's no language
That can express the poison of these aspics,
These weeping crocodiles, and all too little
That hath been said against 'em:—but I'll mould
My thoughts into another form, and if
She can out-live the report of what I'll do—
Enter HONORIA.
BAPTISTA.
The Queen, Sir.
EUGENIUS.
In sign of deep contrition for their error,
My lips that shunn'd the last night profer'd bliss,
Thus on your footsteps seal their willing duty:
Chimerican darkness would not let me see,
What now with adoration I behold!
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This is more
Than I could hope, for my beauty still admits
No rival.
[Aside.
Wait our command at distance—you too have
Free liberty to depart.
[To Baptista.
BAPTISTA.
I am poor in manners,
But thank you, Madam, for the favour.
HONORIA.
Have you taken
Good rest in your new lodgings?—I now expect
Your last resolve, but advise maturely
Before I hear it.
Pray you rise,
Your late neglect, I freely pardon.
EUGENIUS.
My soul's on fire.
HONORIA.
Yet, to give some allay
To this new fervor, 'twere good to remember
The King, whose eyes and ears are ev'ry where,
And what might follow a discovery.
EUGENIUS.
Danger's a phantom, Madam! tho' the King
In our embraces stood a looker on,
His torturers too, with ready cruelty
To drag me from your arms, it should not fright me.
HONORIA.
Pause yet a little—
The bounties of the King, and what weighs more,
Your boasted constancy to your matchless wife,
Should not too soon be shaken.
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The whole fabric
When I but look on you, is in a moment
Overturn'd, and as flowing rivers lose
Their names, when by the ocean swallow'd,
In you alone all faculties of my soul
Are wholly taken up; my wife and King
Are nought but things forgotten.
HONORIA.
Can this be possible? Fortune here I thank thee,
For my purpose now is gain'd!
[Aside.
EUGENIUS.
Wherefore stay ye, Madam? why muse ye so?
HONORIA.
To think how poor, an empty nothing
Is man's constancy!
EUGENIUS.
Your beauties make it so
In me, sweet lady.
HONORIA.
And 'tis my glory.
I could be coy now, as you were, but I
Am of a gentler temper. However,
In a just return of what I've suffer'd
In your disdain, with the same measure grant me
Equal deliberation. I, e'er long,
Will visit you again; and when I next
Appear, as conquer'd by it, slave-like wait
On my triumphant beauty!
[Exit.
EUGENIUS.
What a change!
And what a frown she left at her departure!
I either way am lost! Contempt and scorn
Beset him close, who has not pow'r to be
Either base or virtuous; where'er I look
The tempest thickens, and hope disappears!
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SCENE II.
Enter SOPHIA.SOPHIA.
Tho' all they have alledg'd prove true or false,
Their foul intent is levell'd against my honor,
And therefore I've resolv'd on ample vengeance,
Which shall be put in instant execution:
Who waits within? where are my noble guests?
Enter HILLARIO and CORISCA.
HILLARIO.
The elder, Madam,
Is drinking by himself to your Ladyship's health,
In muskardine and eggs; and for a rasher
To 'tice his liquors down, he hath got a pye
Of marrow-bones, potatoes, and eringoes,
With many such ingredients; and 'tis said
He hath sent his man in post to the next town
For perfumes, plunder'd from the hunted civet!
CORISCA.
And for the younger, such a fuss he makes
To prune and dress himself, as if this night
He were to play a bridegroom's part; but why,
I marvel much!
SOPHIA.
Are these same lodgings both prepar'd, and deck'd
As I directed.
CORISCA.
To the tittle, Madam!
SOPHIA.
Then fail not in a circumstance therein
Set down, as you respect my future favor.
[Gives a paper; Hillario and Corisca retire to read it.
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Madam, here comes the frisky Lord Ubaldo.
Enter UBALDO.
UBALDO.
Pretty one, there's gold
[To Corisca.
To buy thee a new gown; and there's for thee,
[To Hillario.
Grow fat and fit for service—Now am I
At fortune's top most round, and able to
Beget a giant! (Aside.)
O my better angel,
You now will shew your wisdom, when you pay
Your husband in his own coin; shall you sit
Like a patient Grizzle, to be laugh'd at? No,
This is a fair revenge, so quickly let's retire.
SOPHIA.
But fair and softly sweet, my Lord; for thus
Shall I neglect your friend, to whom, by promise,
I'm equally engag'd.
UBALDO.
I must confess,
The more the merrier; but of all men living
Take heed of him! You may safer run upon
The mouth of a cannon when it's unloading!
SOPHIA.
I protest I do not understand you.
UBALDO.
I'll then expound it for your good; he is
Nought but a scurvy fish at best; the tub's
His weekly bath; he hath not drank for years
But sasafras and guiacum; and dry mutton's
His daily portion!
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Bless me from him!
UBALDO.
'Tis a good pray'r, sweet Lady; for
If my tongue burn not when I name Ricardo,
Gibbet me!
SOPHIA.
Your caution I'll reward.
UBALDO.
I do expect as much; sweet, all perfection,
I think I've marr'd his market, come what may;
[Aside.
—But when?
SOPHIA.
Why, presently; follow my woman,
She knows where to conduct you, and will serve
You for a page to-night.—Be it your care
To minister at his toilet, and that with speed;
[To Corisca.
Delay takes from delight; a nectar posset
See be quickly brought into his chamber!
UBALDO.
Excellent Lady!—and a caudle too
I'th' morning, if so it please you.
CORISCA.
I will
Provide for you, my Lord, depend upon't.
Enter UBALDO, and CORISCA.
SOPHIA.
How closely they pursue me! for here comes
The other beagle.
Enter RICARDO.
Take purse and all!
[Ricardo gives his purse to Hillario.
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Would this good company but often come,
I might make a pretty term on't—I doubt
Whether the fare these dolts have this way bought,
Will prove a gainful purchase.
SOPHIA.
For your sake,
I've put him off; he only begg'd a kiss,
And so we parted.
RICARDO.
He did not touch your lip?
SOPHIA.
Why sure there was no danger in the touch?
RICARDO.
No? Quickly eat these scented lozenges,
Of forty crowns an ounce, or you're undone?
SOPHIA.
Wherefore? what can be th' virtue of 'em?
RICARDO.
I am compell'd to use 'em in abundance,
E'en when I talk with him, or else be poisoned:
But I'll be free with you—he was once a creature,
It may be of Heaven's making, but long since
He is turn'd to a druggist's shop: the Spring and Fall
Hold all the year with him: that he lives, he owes
To Art, not Nature; she has giv'n him o'er;
He moves like the fairy king, on screws and wheels
Made by his doctor's recipe, and yet still
They're out of joint, and each day want repairing:—
In a frosty morning,
You may thrust him in a pottle pot; his bones
Rattle in his skin like beans toss'd in a bladder;
If he but hear a coach, fumigation cannot save him
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Not one disease, but all; but being my friend,
I would forbear his character, as I would not
Wrong him in your good opinion.
SOPHIA.
The virtues you bestow on him, to me
Are mysteries I know not—however,
Since my partiality for you in vain
I would conceal—this sigh declares me your's.
RICARDO.
Poor—blind Ubaldo! He must take the maid.
SOPHIA.
Hillario!—be it your immediate care
To uncloath the gentleman, and quickly
See that you robe him in the sattin vest,
And lay the perfum'd night-cap on his pillow.
RICARDO.
Good: and for thy true and trusty service,
This cloak, this sword, and doublet, all are thine,
When I the anti-chamber quit.—
HILLARIO.
I take
Your word, sweet Sir.
RICARDO.
Dear Lady, stay not long.
SOPHIA.
Expect me soon.
HILLARIO.
This is the way, sweet Sir.
[Exeunt Hillario and Ricardo.
SOPHIA.
I was much to blame to credit their reports
Touching my Lord! who so traduce each other,
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They both are base enough; and yet I hope,
The means I have devis'd will shortly lead
To their recovery.
[Exit.
SCENE III.
A miserable Lodging-room.Enter UBALDO, in his flannel Waistcoat.
UBALDO.
What dost thou mean wench?
Why dost thou shut the door upon me? Ha!
My cloaths are ta'en away too! must I starve?
Is this my lodging? I'm sure the Lady talk'd
Of sacks and possets, and a courtly chamber:
But rain water pelting thro' the lattice,
A torn petticoat to shroud this pallet,
And an old woman's biggen for a night-cap,
Are all the comforts they've doom'd me to!
Slight! 'tis either a pig-stye, or a prison!
The windows are double barr'd with iron;
And if I could leap down, my neck were snapt.
I am betray'd! Rogues! Villains! let me out;
I am a Lord by the King's courtesy!
—Ah, that won't do—that title's now too common!
[Exit.
SCENE IV.
Another miserable Room, into which there is a Casement from Ubaldo's.Ricardo discovered rising on his Hands, and Knees.
RICARDO.
Zounds! have you trap-doors, thro' which you like
To tumble men, three stories at a time.
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Stories? ay, waggishly told, no doubt,
At poor Ubaldo's cost.
[Looks thro' the window.
Who makes that noise there? help, if you be man.
RICARDO.
I know not if I'm man or no!—Besides,
I'm where I cannot help myself, and yet
I fain would see your visage—Ubaldo!
Oh! then thou hast chous'd thy friend, and fortune's smiles
Upon thee; thou'st brib'd that wanton lacquey
To throw me thus in durance vile; while thou
Hath stolen into the perfum'd robes, and gain'd
The costly vestments she design'd for me.
UBALDO.
Yes, truly, and in their bounty somewhat more!
RICARDO.
An upper blanket, which thou well can'st spare,
Kick'd from thy wanton chamber, would befriend
Me much in this extremity.
UBALDO.
A what Ricardo?—thou art mad!
RICARDO.
Why, hast thou not
My scented night cap, and my sattin vest?
UBALDO.
Who, I? Bare as a winter robin-red breast
Have they stript me! Prithee throw me
Thy cloak to cover me, for I'm almost
Frozen to death.
RICARDO.
My cloak! I've none left:
I'm strip't as bare as thou; and in return
They've given me, I see, the fool's cast suit.
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O then we're both undone! lend me thy hand, and roar
A little with me for some friendly succour.
[Comes thro' the window to Ricardo.
RICARDO.
Lady of the house!
UBALDO.
Grooms of the chamber!
RICARDO.
Gentlemen, milk-maids!
UBALDO.
Would you thus slay a pair of courtly Lords?
Enter HILLARIO in RICARDO's cloaths.
HILLARIO.
Hey day! not said your pray'rs, and gone to sleep?
Enter SOPHIA, CORISCA, Servants with lights.
UBALDO.
What, sweet hostess, must we be murder'd?
SOPHIA.
No, but soundly punish'd for your desert.
RICARDO.
Your'e not in earnest, I presume fair dame?
SOPHIA.
Judge as you find and feel; and now attend
To what I do irrevocably purpose:—
Forgetful of all hospitable duties,
You, with the defamation of my Lord,
Would fain have wrought upon my woman's weakness,
To yield my honour to your lawless sports!
HILLARIO.
Mark that, I pray, my wanton masters!
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In doing this (I blush while I relate it!)
You have transgress'd against the dignity
Of man; who's bound by virtue to defend,
And not to violate fair female chastity!
But in the toils ye set, you're caught yourselves;
And therefore, do not hope to find from me,
The common sentence for offending man.
Such usage you have forfeited; therefore,
Like the most slavish of your sex, shall you be treated.
UBALDO.
How do you mean to use us?
SOPHIA.
Ease and excess of feeding, made you wanton:
A pleurify of ill blood you must let out:
By labour and spare diet refill your veins,
Or perish with hunger. Bring here a distaff;
Tho' no Omphale, or I do mistake it,
Nor you a second Hercules: fetch it.
[Exit Servant.
As you spin well at my command, and please me,
Your wages in the coarsest bread and water
Shall be proportionably encreased.
UBALDO.
I'll starve first!
SOPHIA.
That's as your Lordship pleases.
RICARDO.
I marvel!
What will be the destiny of poor Ricardo?
SOPHIA.
You shall have gentler work. I've oft observ'd
You proud to shew the fineness of your hand,
And softness of your fingers: you shall reel
What he doth spin: deliver their materials.
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Hunger will teach you to subdue your passions.
[Exit Sophia and Servants.
UBALDO.
I shall spin a fine thread here;
I cannot look
Upon such devices, but they'll put me in mind
Of rope-makers.
HILLARIO.
A good conceit truly,
For if you are industrious enough,
You'll just spin rope enough to hang you both,
Against my master does return from camp
To pass this honorable sentence on you!
RICARDO.
Let me have my cloaths again, I pr'ythee;
I was bountiful unto thee.
HILLARIO.
Oh, fie!
Forget such vanities; my livery there
Will serve you well enough to work in;
Besides, they're past the wearing of a Lord;
Nay, mine by promise, you yourself do know
You have no holidays coming, nor will I work
While these and this (purse)
lasts, and so, if you please,
Shut up your shop, and take yourselves to rest.
[Scene closes on Ubaldo and Ricardo.
[Exit Hillario.
SCENE IV.
Enter LADISLAUS, HONORIA, EUBULUS, FERDINAND, &c.HONORIA.
Now, you know all, Sir, with the motives why
I forc'd him to my apartment; therefore
I do presume, you doubt not now my honour.
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I would not, though the whimsy was a strange one.
EUBULUS.
There was no danger in't; you must conceive, Sir,
Being religious, she chose him for a chaplain,
To read old homilies to her i'th' dark;
She's bound to it by her canons.
LADISLAUS.
Still tormented
With thy impertinence!
HONORIA.
By yourself, dear Sir;
I was ambitious only to overthrow
His boasted constancy in his consent;
But for fact, I contemn him; I was never
Unchaste in thought; I labour'd to give proof
What pow'r dwells in this beauty you admire so,
And when you see how soon it hath transform'd him,
As strait you shall,
And with what superstition he adores it,
Determine as you please.
[Exit
LADISLAUS.
Well, I'll observe the issue.
EUBULUS.
How had you took this, General, in your wife.
FERDINAND.
As a strange curiosity, but Queens
Are privileg'd 'bove subjects, and 'tis fit.
[Exeunt.
SCENE V.
Enter EUGENIUS and BAPTISTA.BAPTISTA.
I'm glad you're so convinc'd, for she is true,
Or art and Nature both are leagued against us.
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Fool that I was to doubt—I know she's constant,
And in my loving ne'er look'd so fair.
[Looks at the picture.
In short, Baptista, I've a vision seen
This morning, makes it plain; I never was
In such security as at this instant.
As soon as the Queen appears
Observe th' encounter.
Enter HONORIA, EUBULUS, LADISLAUS, FERDINAND, and Attendant behind.
BAPTISTA.
She is already
Enter'd the lists.
EUGENIUS.
And I prepar'd to meet her.
BAPTISTA.
I know my duty.
[Going.
HONORIA.
Not so; you may stay now
As a witness of our contract.
BAPTISTA.
I obey
In all things, Madam.
HONORIA.
Where's that reverence
Or rather superstitious adoration
Which, captive-like, to my triumphant beauty
You paid last night? No humble knee! nor sign
Of vassal duty? then you freely swore
Your certain loss of life, in the King's anger,
Was far too mean a price to buy my favor;
And, that false glow-worm fire of constancy
To your wife, extinguish'd by a brighter light
Shot from our eyes.
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I do remember.
I once saw such a woman.
HONORIA.
Ha!
EUGENIUS.
And then
She did appear a most magnificent Queen;
And what's more, virtuous, tho' somewhat shaded
With pride and self opinion.
EUBULUS.
Call you this courtship?
EUGENIUS.
And she was happy in a royal husband,
Whom envy could not tax, unless it were
For his too much indulgence to her humour.
EUBULUS.
Pray, Sir, observe that touch, 'tis to the purpose.
EUGENIUS.
You yet retain
Some part of her angelic form, but when
Envy to the beauty of another woman
(One she had never seen but in this picture)
Had spread infection thro' her veins.
HONORIA.
I like not this!
[Aside.
EUGENIUS.
Desire in all th' enticements it could steal
From majesty, however disguis'd, had took
Sure footing in the kingdom of her heart,
Once the throne of chastity—how in a moment
All that was gracious, great, and glorious,
Like seeming shadows wanting real substance,
Vanish'd.
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How his reasoning works upon me.
EUGENIUS.
Retire into yourself, fair Queen;
There, your own breast is strongly nerv'd by virtue,
Be but as you were; and there is no office
So low to which a man may stoop,
But I will gladly bow to.
But as you play and juggle with a stranger,
Varying your shapes like Thetis, tho' beauties,
Such as are by poet's raptures painted,
Were all in you united, you would pass
Pity'd, perhaps, but not by one regarded!
HONORIA.
I'm disenchanted;
And ever, from this moment, shall despise
The flatterers who've deceiv'd me.
LADISLAUS.
I'm charm'd
With what I've seen and heard!
[They come forward.
HONORIA.
How have I wander'd
Out of the track of honour; and mislead
By the o'erweening pride and flattery
Of fawning sycophants,
Could never meet till now a passenger
That in his charity would
Stay me in my precipice to ruin.
How ill (when you know all)
Have I return'd your goodness to me,
The horror in my thoughts oft turns me marble;
What can I do to shew my deep contrition?
[Kneels to the King.
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Pray you rise.
HONORIA.
Never, till you have forgiv'n and receiv'd
Unto your love and favour, a chang'd woman:
My state and pride turn'd to humility,
Henceforth shall wait on your commands.
LADISLAUS.
All is forgot, and this fair change shall prove
A second and a happier union to us!
HONORIA.
Why did you make me rise, my loving Lord,
Till with a free confession of a crime,
Unknown as yet to you, I ask'd a suit!
LADISLAUS.
Whate'er it be, my lips do thus confirm it.
[Kisses her hand.
HONORIA.
Know then, in envy of this good man's wife,
I did suborn those ready courtly slaves,
Ubaldo and Ricardo, to corrupt her.
EUBULUS.
I marvell'd if the mischief were all out.
HONORIA.
How far I have prevail'd, I'm ignorant:
But my request, good Sir, in fine, is this,
That you, for th' honour of this gallant knight,
Would let us travel thither, the journey
Being but short, to call them home.
LADISLAUS.
This hour
We will put on.
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I, if you please, your royal harbinger.
[Exit.
EUGENIUS.
And I your faithful follower.
LADISLAUS.
I thank you:
Let me infold you in my arms; your service
'Gainst the Turk, compar'd with this, weighs nothing.
EUGENIUS.
I am still your humble soldier.
LADISLAUS.
My true friend.
FERDINAND.
And so you're bound to hold him.
EUBULUS.
Such a plant,
Imported to your kingdom, and here grafted,
Wou'd yield more fruit than all the idle weeds
That suck up your reign of favour.
LADISLAUS.
In my will
I'll not be wanting:—prepare for our journey.
Hence to the winds all doubts and jealous fears,
For now Honoria like herself appears!
[Exeunt.
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