 | Marciano ; or, The Discovery |  |
Actus Quintus
Scæna prima.
Enter Borasco solus.How this same Lady hath abus'd my favour,
Escap'd, no man knows how; gone, God knows whether.
If I fly not, I shall supply her place,
That is resolv'd I know—Fortune, you shall not
Play upon me; although you now begin
To frown upon most of our Senators:
For, since the brave Lord Barbaro is dead,
All such as were his creatures are discarded;
Amongst whom, I am one—a plague on all
Your base seditious cocks-combs: your proceedings
Will strengthen Cleons interest. Hell-hounds, Tygars,
Adieu base Elves: I'l post to Venice straight,
And there evite the ruine of your State.
Scæna Secunda.
Enter Pantaloni, Becabunga, with Chrysolina, Marionetta.Pan.
Tush, these are all but stories, Madam, I was but jesting
with them when I did it.
Mar.
Sir, I will hear no excuse.
Bec.
I vow 'tis true, Madam.
Pant.
Nay, but harke you, Madam Chrysolina, if you come to
that with it, I can make you love me yet, whether you will or no.
Mar.
Will you, Sir?
Chrys.
Pray, how do you that, Sir?
Pant.
Why, thus I instruct it, Madam; I can show you several
Letters under your own hand and seal, day and date, &c.
that you are my humble servant, which you dare not for your ears
deny, dare you?
Chrys.
You had best be silent.
Pant.
Nay more, I know you love me yet, because the last time
I was with you, you gave me a knot of Ribbons, which my mother
keeps well lock'd up in her Cabinet yet, as a love-token: and moreover,
when I said I will come and see you again to morrow, you
said, sayes you, you shall be welcom.
Chrys.
This will not do it, Sir, you have renounced us, and
therefore—
(she offers to remove.
Bec.
Nay hold, Madam, we were but in jest.
Pant.
And then they forced us to do it.
Bec.
I, and if we had not done it, they swore (God blesse us)
that they would kill us.
Pant.
And then, you know, it was better to seal a peece of
paper then to be kill'd.
Chrys.
What strong arguments they use.
Mar.
Sister, we must shake e'm off now or never.
Bec.
And then, Madam, if we had been kill'd—
Pant.
Yes, if we had been kill'd, it had been small advantage
for you.
Bec.
(aside.)
I, and then, Madam—and then, I say, Oh! if
Manduco were here to plead for me now.
Nay, if you will not hear us, take your pleasure.
Chrys.
No more, Sir, get you gone, henceforth I disclaim you.
Pant.
And I you too, d'you see; I care no more for you, Mistris,
then you do for me: I am as good a Gentleman as your self;
and if you were not a woman I would tell you more of my mind.
Bec.
I knew it would alwayes come to this at length, I vow;
I think you Gentle women do nothing but entertain us with vain
hopes for a while, and then cast us off.
Pant.
Mistris, shall I tell you, there are more Ladies in Florence
then you that will be blyth of me yet; and so long as I have
money in store, I am sure to have Mistresses in store.
Chrys.
Are you so, Sir?
Pant.
I that I am; but I will complain to your Uncle, to the
Lady Saromanca, and to all your kindred, that you have cheat me,
for all your fair promises.
Chrys.
You are a prating fool.
Pant.
I am no more prating then your self, Mistris; but if
there be justice to be had of you, I'l have it.
Mar.
Come, let us leave them, Sister, else they'll both fall a
weeping.
Pant.
For whom, for you, Mistris? I'l let you know we are
no such children.
Bec.
No, but, I protest, I cannot but weep though.
Chrys., Mar.
Farewell, farewell, march to your travels my
Gamesters, farewell.
Pant.
Peugh—Farewell; I believe you are the greatest fool
of the two, Madam Chrysolina, call they you.
Bec.
I protest, Pantaloni, I am very sorry for the loss of this
bony Lady though. O! how my father will chide me now: for
he had given Manduco orders to provide my Wedding cloaths,
and now all's blown up.
Pant.
Come, come, we know the worst on't: let them go, we will
never want great marches yet; let us think now to be revenged
on them villains, Cassio and Leonardo: the first time I meet any
of them, I will cut the tongue out of their heads that they shall
never talk more.
I, so will I too: but we must have Manduco with us
then, for he will make them stand in awe of him.
Exeunt.
Scæna Tertia.
Enter Marciano solus, as at Pisa.That she's escap'd, that, I know certainly,
So letters from Siena have inform'd me.
But by what means, or where she is, I know not.
Never remembers him, who, if he should
Forget her but one hour, would think he had
Offended highly, yet she's silent still.
If I receive no letters from her, shortly,
I'le become jealous of her, sure; that she,
Who was all love, is now so quickly cold
In her affections.—But what! I blaspheme
The vertuous Arabella, she's all vertue,
And cannot prove unconstant—
Now let me meditate on what my Prince
Hath order'd me to do: He's still the same,
And bears a mind, that floats above the waves
Of all adversities, as who should say,
Fortune, even do thy worst. His Counsellours,
Like to wife Marriners, affray'd to stretch
The top sayles of their courage in this tempest,
Least both they, and their Prince should suffer shipwrack.
Only was I commanded some years since
Upon an expedition to Siena,
Encourag'd by th'affectionate expressions,
And actions of the valiant Cassanao,
And others of our loyal country-men.
But fortune crush'd our enterprises, so
I did return to Savoy, where my Prince
Did then reside: and now, I am commanded
Which whether it succeed or not; my duty
Is yet at least to prosecute it—
A post-horn sounds within.
How's this—a post-horn: good—
Enter Strenuo with a Letter
Str.
All's well, my Lord, now do our joyes begin.
To flourish after such a tedious winter.
The Duk's restor'd, and now intends at Florence.
Here, here's a letter for it, from himself.
Marc.
Restor'd!—Nay hold my heart—I'l read this letter.
(reads
—True, True:—O fortune how I hugge thee now.
And thou my good friend Strenuo—
(embraces him.
Str.
Brave dayes, my Lord; the Court does fill apace,
The Ladies croud in throngs: the glory of
Her sex, your darling, the fair Arabella,
Since clouds of melancholly are overblown,
Does now appear in loves full horizon.
Marc.
O how propitious! lend me moderation,
Reins to my joy, as well as to my sorrow,
Else, I shall quickly burst to death: this bless'd,
And unexpected Tarantula: of news
So ticles all my senses:—joyfull tidings!
My Prince restor'd! my dearest Arabella
At Court! now my felicity lacks nothing
But fight to be compleat: that my eyes may
Perswade my yet almost incredulous soul,
To what my fancy never durst have prompted
—To horse—To horse, I'le post to Florence quickly.
Exit. post-horn sounds.
Scæna Quarta.
Enter Pantaloni, Becabunga, and Manduco with swords by their sides.Man.
O
Tempora! O mores! O the effrænate, licentious perversity
of untamed adolescency! what a villanous;
scelerate attempt to entice two young Gentlemen to a Duel: who
besides, that they are both innocent Boyes, why, their very
Uncles and other friends, are employed in serious negotiations of
the Senate. Proh Deum, atque hominum fidem! Is all my industry
in sollicitation, my immense study and lucrubrations for
framing familiar epistles, my oratory in private commendations and
exhortations for both these Gentlemen come to nought!—Proh
facinus ingens!
Pant.
Peace, Mr. Manduco: you must not only teach us how
to beat, but likewise assist us in beating these dissolute fellows; for
I have sworn, Sir, and that is enough—
Bec.
I, so I say too, for, you know we wear our swords here for
no other end; look you, are not my hilts very handsome, O now,
I will swear, By these hilts, as well as Leonardo himself.
Man.
And for that effect, I have got my sword too: I am lenis
in puniendo; but when I am provoked, invenient me leonem, they
shall find me a very Lyon: my schollars at Santo Burgo, where I
was sometimes ludimagister, can yet testifie that: and for my severity
in castigando—Probatum est.
Pant.
Although Leonardo has got my Mistris, yet I'le have
about with him, albeit he be a Senatours son in law, with a mischief
to his heart, when such Gentlemen of estates as I, am shak'd
off.
Bec.
And for me, since Cassio has got my Mistris: let him
keep her: I must look out for some other great match in time; for
they say, Manduco, that now since the Duk's restor'd, they who
were active in the late rebellion, must be forfeit of their estates: and
has been a great man all this while, (I fear he never be so
again) now, you know, if I loss my Estate, how shall I have a wife
then? what think you, Pantaloni?
(Pant, draws.
Pant.
Nay, I can think on nothing now, but how to thrust at
Leonardo.
Bec.
So, I will draw too, if you come to that with it.
(Bec. draws.
Man.
And for me—I love no dimication
—but when I am provoked, I
will assist you—Et sic arma amens capio,
nec sat rationis in armis.
Man. puts the hilts of his sword betwixt his feet, and tuggs at it violently.
Enter Cassio, Leonardo, with Chrys. Mar.
Cass.
(to Mar.)
Madam, my resolution was alwayes unfeigned
to serve you: your coy refusal diminished nothing of
my affection, but did rather incite me the more to love
you.
Mar.
I did alwayes esteem my self honoured
in your love, Sir, though the capricious humors
of my self-seeking friends did countermand my
desires,
Bec. runs away, Man. and Pant. retire to a corner of the Theatre.
Leon.
(to Chrys.)
Nay then, unspotted beauty, answer those
gracious obligations your self: it passes the activity of
my invention. I have been alwayes your devout admirer;
but now I am so much bound to love you, that
although my affection should super-erogat, yet I can
plead no merits.
Chrys.
Sir, your merits have made conquest of my affections—
Cass.
Prethee, Leonardo, would'st see
good sport—
Leon.
As how?
Man.
Nay, you must stay, I will not
fight alone.
Pantaloni and Man. justles, Pant. wrestles loose, Man. solus to Cass. and Leon.
Pant.
Fy, not before women, Sir, that were unhandsom—
Man.
Keep off, boni viri; for, if you approach, you shall find
the vinegar of my wrath. I have chastised many such in my time,
I'l make you know what it is rem habere cum Professore, to bell
the cat with one to whom you owe respect.
Leon.
Thou slovenly, greazy Pedant, glass-gazing, superficical
affected peece of ignorance, get you gone, speak no more ill of Gentleman;
or if you do, you may come to carry your joynts in a
box yet—
Man.
Never again, Sir—
(less fall his sword.
Leon.
If you do—
Man.
Ita me Deus amet, never, Sir.
Cass.
We'll put you to the stripado, if you don't behave your
self more civily.
Man.
Never again, as I am erudite—So help me, God—never.
Exit.
Mar.
Poor fellow, he must have his humour.
Chrys.
If he could hold his peace sometimes, he is a good honest
fellow; but he can speak good of no man, but those of his
own profession.
Cass.
We have punished him sufficiently, let's think no more
upon him.
Leon.
Nor upon our quondam Rivals either. Come, we'll
continue our progress to Court.
Exeunt omnes.
Scæna Quinta.
A joyfull noise within, Trumpets, Ketle-drums, Ho-boyes, with all sort of musick.Enter the Duke, Marciano, with others of the Nobility, Courtiers and Attendants, at his entry.
Song.
Now breaks our day,
Fairies away,
Pack hence, I say,
Your power's undone.
Room for Joy's progeny,
Full of divinity.
Rebellion breashless lyes,
Hell sings her obsequyes,
Usurping Traytors quick be gone.
Now, Cleon, divine Cleon mounts His Throne,
Room—room—room—room for Him alone.
Cleon.
Heavens yet are just: they now have paid us home
Our former losses with large interest—
—A good while lost is never known to many,
An ill while feel'd is scarcely known to any:
For men, like butter-flyes, rush on the candle
Of war at all occasions, untill some
Are burn'd to ashes: others hurt their wings;
Then they recoil amaz'd, and not while then,
They blame the projects of their troubled brain.
—Now (gods assume our thanks) we, who before,
Were toss'd in waves of war, are so no more—
—Florence, take heed, jest not with supreme Powers,
'Tis hard to thrive, when heavens do countermand
Thy foul designs:—But wisely learn to know
Thy former errors, and commit no moe.
1. Court.
—A Prince's word is good divinity—
2. Court.
—While Subjects oaths are down-right perjury,
And serve for nothing but to feed Rebellion.
Cleon.
How! Marciano, you seem discontent,
What sullen cloud amid'st this calm of joyes
O'rcasts your noble soul?—
Marc.
Not I, dear Prince,
I am not discontent.
Cleon.
Come, Marciano, you shall feast your senses
On what we know your soul entirely loves.
—Now let us in, 'tis time we were at counsell.
Exeunt omnes.
Within, musick as before.
Song.
Dull man, do'st not see in his countenance
Such rare becoming grace,
Majesty in his face.
Why art become
So grossly dumb?
Cannot thy tongue pay tribute to his praise?
Harke how all Florence sing,
In such a cheerfull spring,
And every one their voices raise.
Why silent then, when after all our tears,
Clouds which did shroud the light, our Sun appears?
Appears—Appears
Dissolving all our jealousies and fears.
Scæna Sexta.
Enter Arabella sola.Ar.
All now rejoyce, but I: my former griefs
Still dwell with me, untill the noble, constant,
Generous Marciano doth appear—
—Goodness! 'tis he—O! how my heart begins,
Enter Marciano discoursing quietly with a Courtier.
Exit Court.
Even as a murder'd carcasse, to distill
Gross drams of blood at sight o'th murderer.
Marc. discovers her.
Marc.
—Cold vertue guard me—if I dream not—'tis she.
—Mercifull heavens, can Marciano see
His very soul? yet not in extasie.
—O! Arabella, fairest, ever worthy,
(embraces her.
I offer thus my heart—thus—thus—and thus—
O! art assist me—suddain joy had never
Suddain expression—
Ar.
Sure, my Lord, you cannot
Be more surprised then I am; pray imagine
A heart abstract from cares, and hois'd in high
Raptures of joy; even such you may define,
Mine-thine—thine-mine—the gods could ne'r have been
Then, thus, my Lord, pray let me evidence
embraces.
The temper of my heart, since you went hence.
embraces.
Marc.
O! thou, the loadstone of my else-wandring fancy,
That keeps my soul still fix'd—what can I render
Conform to thy fair merits—
Ar.
Love, my Lord,
—Love, love—I say, I cannot ask for more.
Next, if you will oblige me, prethee honour
Our friend Falasso, one deserves your favour.
—He entertain'd me kindly in your absence,
During your long exile.
Marc.
Heavens thank him for it,
I shall esteem him highly, and recommend
Him to the Duke—But now, my heart's in flames—
—Never was man more happy in his choyce
aside.
Then I in mine—Such Mistrisses are rare—
aside.
You were my fellow-sufferer; sprightly Nymph,
If love connive, would you not willingly
Be sharer with me in my prosperity?
Ar.
Those, who know all things, know my great ambition.
Marc.
No more—no more—we wrong our joyes to stay
On such discourse—'tis time we supplicate
The gentle Hymen, he shall us unite,
That Florence may behold our joyes compleat.
Exeunt.
Scæna Ultima.
Enter two of the guard with Partuysans,1. Part.
Come, Come, all things will now resume their ancient
splendour.
2. Part.
Yes, yes, now we begin, like Marriners after a tempest,
to suck our bottles at ease again.
1. Part.
O brave dayes! who would have dream'd on this
suddain revolution some years since.
No more of that discourse, look to the Court-gates,
for there shall be such a crowd of Gallants with their Ladies,
Apprentises with their Wenches, Citizens with their Wives, and
all the confused rabble, by and by, that we shall have a great labour
on't to keep the half on 'em out.
1. Part.
Right, for the Lord Marciano is to be marryed to
night, and we shall have a Masque, I warrand you.
2. Part.
I beleeve we shall have a merry night on't.
1. Part.
You ar welcome, my masters, walk
towards the further corner, pray you there
Enter Cass. Leon. Chrys. Mar.
you shall have best room.
Cass.
The Duke will be here by and by.
1. Part.
We expect
so, Sir.
Leon.
Come then, wee'l aside, Cassio.
A flourish within, Musick, &c.
Enter moe Partuysans.
Part.
Clear the way, the Dukes a coming.
Enter Cleon, leading Arabella by the hand, Courtiers, Attendants, &c.
Cleon.
—Remember no more, fair Lady,
On by gone miseries—
Cass. Leon. Chrys. Mar. kiss the Dukes hand, &c.
Enter Marciano with Strenuo, presents him to the Duke, &c.
Marc.
May it please your Highness—
This was my friend, my very trusty friend
In all my exigencies, very kind
To both me and the Lady Arabella.
Here only, I present him to your Highness—
(Str. kneels, &c.
Cleon.
Whatever favours were bestow'd on you,
We do account them done to our selves—
—You are his friend, so, Signior, you are ours.
(Str. arises,
Str.
May all the blessings of the heavens combine
To raise your highness to a pitch divine.—
Cleon.
My Lord Marciano, we have alwayes had
A narrow eye over all your proceedings,
Valiant, at all adventures, ever faithfull,
And therefore after mature deliberation,
We here entrust the Government of Siena,
Your native country, to your managing—
Here's our Commission—take it, and remember
gives him a Patent.
Our honour, and the humours of Siena.
Marc.
Great Prince, whose daring eye strikes traytors dumb,
Revives all loyal souls: disperses all
Rebellions foggy mists: you have this day
Conferr'd such honour on your highness servant,
As were I a base Infidel, yow'd perswade
My heart to faith, my tongue to oratory—
—Thus—thus, dear Prince, I tender solemnly,
All homage to your highness, while I dye.
Cleon.
Arise, enjoy those honours, and approve
Cleon takes him by the hand.
Your self a pattern of both fear and love.
Man.
—Serenissime, Augustissime—dux
Enter Man. Bec. Pant. Strenuo presents them severally to kisse the Dukes hand. Man. harangues.
Court.
—Remove, remove that fellow.
Part.
—Come—come Sarrah, you think
you are in your school.
Man.
Dux—
Part.
Come you villain.
Part. dragges him off.
Man.
Princeps—Tus—Tus—caniæ.
Court.
What an impudent rogue is this?
Cleon.
—As for this Lady, whom thy gentler fates
Have still reserved for your chast embraces,
We still will honour her, as having seen
Evident signs of her affection,
And loyalty to us—
Ar.
And still shall be,
Dear Prince, so much as in a Woman lyes,
I'le offer prayers and tears, and sacrifice,
The first fruits of my wishes; I'le implore
Such blessings, as the gods have heap'd in store,
May rain upon your royal highness head,
That in your eyes heavens favours may be read—
May forrein Princes his great power envy—
2. Court.
May he his treacherous enemies plots defye—
Leon.
May he restore our former happiness—
Cass.
And Medicis great princely house encrease—
Marc.
While all his faithfull Subjects long to see
The royal hopes of his posterity—
All.
—Long live our Prince, and may he still appear,
The brightest Star in all our Hemisphære.
A joyfull noise within, &c.
Exeunt omnes. Plaudite.
| Marciano ; or, The Discovery | |