Antonio's Revenge Marston, John This text is an enriched version of the TCP digital transcription A07064 of text S112254 in the English Short Title Catalog (STC 17474). Textual changes and metadata enrichments aim at making the text more computationally tractable, easier to read, and suitable for network-based collaborative curation by amateur and professional end users from many walks of life. The text has been tokenized and linguistically annotated with MorphAdorner. The annotation includes standard spellings that support the display of a text in a standardized format that preserves archaic forms ('loveth', 'seekest'). Textual changes aim at restoring the text the author or stationer meant to publish. Martin Mueller Incompletely or incorrectly transcribed words were reviewed and in many cases fixed by Melina Yeh Keren Yi This text has not been fully proofread EarlyPrint Project Evanston IL, Notre Dame IN, St.Louis, Washington MO 2017 Distributed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 3.0 Unported License A07064.xml Antonios reuenge. The second part. As it hath beene sundry times acted, by the children of Paules. Written by I.M. Marston, John, 1575?-1634. 41 600dpi TIFF G4 page images University of Michigan, Digital Library Production Service Ann Arbor, Michigan 2003 November (TCP phase 1) 99847512 STC (2nd ed.) 17474. Greg, I, 185(a). 12549 A07064 2248521578

This keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above is co-owned by the institutions providing financial support to the Early English Books Online Text Creation Partnership. Searching, reading, printing, or downloading EEBO-TCP texts is reserved for the authorized users of these project partner institutions. Permission must be granted for subsequent distribution, in print or electronically, of this text, in whole or in part. Please contact project staff at eebotcp-info@umich.edu for further information or permissions.

 Antonios reuenge. The second part. As it hath beene sundry times acted, by the children of Paules. Written by I.M. Antonio and Mellida. Part 2 Antonio and Mellida. Part 2. Second part of Antonio and Mellida. Antonios revenge. Marston, John, 1575?-1634. [80] p. Printed [by R. Bradock] for Thomas Fisher, and are to be soulde [by Matthew Lownes] in Saint Dunstans Church-yarde, London : 1602. 1600

I.M. = John Marston.

Partly in verse.

Part 2 of: Antonio and Mellida.

Printer's and bookseller's names from STC.

Signatures: A-K4.

Running title reads: The second part of Antonio and Mellida.

Quires G through I have vertical chain lines (also quire A in Huntington and Folger copies).

Reproduction of the original in the Folger Shakespeare Library.

 A07064 shc Antonio's Revenge Marston, John Melina Yeh Keren Yi 1600 play tragedy shc no A07064 S112254 (STC 17474). 82 20610 0 0 0 5 0 0 2.40 B The rate of 2.40 defects per 10,000 words puts this text in the B category of texts with fewer than 10 defects per 10,000 words. Incorporated ~ 10,000 textual changes made to the SHC corpus by Hannah Bredar, Kate Needham, and Lydia Zoells between April and July 2015 during visits, separately or together, to the Bodleian, Folger and Houghton Libraries as well as the Rare Book Libraries at Northwestern University and the University of Chicago

ANTONIOS Reuenge .

The second part .

As it hath beene sundry times acted , by the children of Paules .

Written by I. M.

LONDON Printed for Thomas Fisher , and are to be soulde in Saint Dunstans Church-yarde . 1602 .

Antonios Reuenge . The second part of the Historie of Antonio and Mellida .
The Prologue . THE rawish danke of clumzie winter ramps The fluent summers vaine : and drizling sleete Chilleth the wan bleak cheek of the numd earth , Whilst snarling gusts nibble the iuyceles leaues , From the nak't shuddring branch ; and pils the skinne From off the soft and delicate aspectes . O , now , me thinks , a sullen tragick Sceane Would suite the time , with pleasing congruence . May we be happie in our weake deuoyer , And all parte pleas'd in most wisht content : But sweare of Hercules can nere beget So blest an issue . Therefore we proclaime , If any spirit breathes within this round , Vncapable of waightie passion ( As from his birth , being hugged in the armes , And nuzzled twixt the breastes of happinesse ) Who winkes , and shuts his apprehension vp From common sense of what men were , and are , Who would not knowe what men must be ; let such Hurrie amaine from our black visag'd showes : We shall affright their eyes . But if a breast , Nail'd to the earth with griefe : if any heart Pierc't through with anguish , pant within this ring : If there be any blood , whose heate is choakt And stifled with true sense of misery : If ought of these straines fill this consort vp , Th' arriue most welcome . O that our power Could lackie , or keepe wing with our desires ; That with vnused paize of stile and sense , We might waigh massy in iudicious scale . Yet heere 's the prop that doth support our hopes ; When our Sceanes falter , or inuention halts , Your fauour will giue crutches to our faults . Exit .
ACT. I.
SCEN. I . Enter Piero , vnbrac't , his armes bare , smeer'd in blood , a poniard in one hand bloodie , and a torch in the other , Strotzo following him with a corde . Pie . HO , Gasper Strotzo , binde Feliches trunke Vnto the panting side of Mellida . Exit Str. T is yet dead night , yet al the earth is cloucht In the dull leaden hand of snoring sleepe : No breath disturbs the quiet of the ayre . No spirit moues vpon the breast of earth , Saue howling dogs , nightcrowes , & screeching owls , Saue meager ghosts , Piero , and black thoughts . One , two . Lord , in two houres what a toplesse mount Of vnpeer'd mischiefe , haue these hands cast vp ! Enter Strotzo . I can scarce coope triumphing vengeance vp , From bursting forth in bragart passion . Str. My Lord , t is firmely saide that Pie . Andrugio sleepes in peace : this braine hath choakt The organ of his breast . Feliche hangs , But as a baite vpon the line of death , To tice on mischiefe . I am great in blood , Vnequald in reuenge . You horrid scouts , That centinell swart night , giue lowde applause From your large palms . First know , my hart was rais'd Vnto Andrugios life , vpon this ground : Str. Duke , t is reported Pie . We both were riuals in our May of blood , Vnto Maria , great Ferraras heire . He wan the Ladie , to my honours death : And from her sweetes , cropt this Antonio : For which , I burnt in inward sweltring hate , And festred rankling malice in my breast , Till I might belke reuenge vpon his eyes : And now ( ô blessed now ) t is done . Hell , night , Giue lowde applause to my hypocrisie . When his bright valour euen dazled sense , In offring his owne heade , publick reproach Had blurd my name . Speake Strotzo , had it not ? If then I had Str. It had , so please Pier. What had so please ? Vnseasoned Sycophant , Piero Sforza is no nummed Lord , Senselesse of all true touch ; stroake not the head Of infant speach , till it be fully borne . Goe to . Strot.

How now ? Fut , I le not smother your speach .

Pie . Nay , right thine eyes : t was but a little splene : ( Huge plunge ! Sinn 's growne a slaue , and must obserue slight euils . Huge villaines are inforc't to clawe all diuels . ) Pish , sweete thy thoughts , and giue me Str.

Stroake not the heade of infant speach ? Goe to ?

Pie . Nay , calme this storme . I euer held thy breast More secret , and more firme in league of blood , Then to be struck in heate with each' slight puffe . Giue me thy eares ; Huge infamie Presse downe my honour ; if euen then , when His fresh act of prowesse bloom'd out full , I had tane vengeance on his hated head Str. Why it had Pier. Could I auoyde to giue a seeming graunt Vnto fruition of Antonios loue ? Str.

No .

Pie . And didst thou euer see , a Iudas kisse , With a more couert touch of fleering hate ? Stro.

No .

Pie . And hauing clipt them with pretence of loue , Haue I not crusht them with a cruell wring ? Strot.

Yes .

Piero . Say , faith , didst thou ere heare , or reade , or see Such happie vengeance , vnsuspected death ? That I should drop strong poyson in the boawle , Which I my selfe carous't vnto his health , And future fortune of our vnitie , That it should worke even in the husht of night , And strangle him on sodaine ; that faire showe Of death , for the excessiue ioy of his fate , Might choake the murder ? Ha Strotzo , is 't not rare ? Nay , but waigh it . Then Feliche stabd ( Whose sinking thought frighted my conscious hart ) And laid by Mellida , to stop the match , And hale on mischiefe . This all in one night ? Is 't to be equall'd thinkst thou ? O , I could eate Thy fumbling throat , for thy lagd censure . Fut , Is 't not rare ? Str.

Yes .

Pie . No ? yes ? nothing but no , and yes , dull lumpe ? Canst thou not hony me with fluent speach , And euen adore my toplesse villany ? Will I not blast my owne blood for reuenge ? Must not thou straight be periur'd for reuenge ? And yet no creature dreame t is my reuenge . Will I not turne a glorious bridall morne Vnto a Stygian night ? Yet naught but no , and yes ? Str. I would haue told you , if the incubus , That rides your bosome , would haue patience : It is reported , that in priuate state , Maria , Genous Dutchesse , makes to Court , Longing to see him , whom she nere shall see , Her Lord Andrugio . Belike she hath receiu'd The newes of reconciliation : Reconciliation with a death ? Poore Ladie shall but finde poore comfort in 't . Pie . O , let me swoone for ioy . By heauen , I thinke I ha said my prayers , within this month at least ; I am so boundlesse happie . Doth she come ? By this warme reeking goare , I le marrie her . Looke I not now like an inamorate ? Poyson the father , butcher the son , & marry the mother ; ha ! Strotzo , to bed : snort in securest sleepe : For see , the dapple gray coursers of the morne Beat vp the light with their bright siluer hooues , And chase it through the skye . To bed , to bed . This morne my vengeance shall be amply fed . Exit .
SCENA SECVNDA . Enter Luceo , Maria , and Nutriche . Mar.

STAY gentle Luceo , and vouchsafe thy hand .

Lu. O , Madam Ma. Nay , pree thee giue me leaue to say , vouchsafe , Submisse intreats beseeme my humble fate . Here let vs sit . O Luceo , fortunes gilt Is rubd quite off from my slight tin-foild state , And poore Maria must appeare vngrac't Of the bright fulgor of gloss'd maiestie . Luc. Cheer vp your spirits Madam ; fairer chance Then that which courts your presence instantly , Can not be formd by the quick mould of thought . Mari. Art thou assur'd the dukes are reconcil'd ? Shall my wombes honour wed faire Mellida ? Will heauen at length grant harbour to my head ? Shall I once more clip my Andrugio ? And wreath my armes about Antonio's necke ? Or is glib rumor growne a parasite , Holding a false glasse to my sorrowes eyes , Making the wrinkl'd front of griefe seeme faire , Though t is much riueld with abortiue care . Lu. Most virtuous Princesse , banish straggling feare ; Keepe league with comfort . For these eyes beheld The Dukes vnited ; you faint glimmering light Nere peeped through the crannies of the east , Since I beheld them drinke a sound carouse , In sparkling Bacchus , Vnto eache others health ; Your sonne assur'd to beautious Mellida : And all clouds clear'd of threatning discontent . Ma.

What age is morning of ?

Lu.

I thinke 'bout fiue .

Ma.

Nutriche , Nutriche .

Nu.

Beshrow your fingers marry , you haue disturb'd the pleasure of the finest dreame . O God , I was euen comming to it lawe . O Iesu , t was comming of the swetest . I le tell you now , me thought I was maried , and mee thought I spent ( O Lord why did you wake mee ) and mee thought I spent three spur Roials on the Fidlers for striking vp a fresh hornepipe . Saint Vrsula , I was euen going to bed , & you , mee thought , my husband was euen putting out the tapers , when you , Lord I shall neuer haue such a dreame come vpon mee , as long as

Ma. Peace idle creature , peace . When will the Court rise ? Lu. Madam , t were best you tooke some lodging vp , And lay in priuate till the soile of griefe Were cleard your cheeke , and new burnisht lustre Cloath'd your presence , 'fore you sawe the Dukes , And enterd , 'mong the proud Venetian States . Mar. No Lucio , my deare Lord 's wise , and knowes That tinsill glitter , or rich purfled robes , Curled haires , hung full of sparkling Carcanets , Are not the true adornements of a wife . So long as wiues are faithfull , modest , chaste , Wise Lords affect them . Vertue doth not waste , With each slight flame of crackling vanitie . A modest eye forceth affection , Whilest outward gainesse light lookes but entice . Fairer then Natures faire is fowlest vice . She that loues Art , to get her cheeke more louers , Much outward gaudes slight inward grace discouers . I care not to seeme faire , but to my Lord . Those that striue most to please most strangers sight , Follie may iudge most faire , wisdome most light . Musique sounds a short straine . But harke , soft musique gently mooues the ayre : I thinke the bridegroom 's vp . Lucio , stand close . O , now Marya , chalenge griefe to stay Thy ioyes encounter . Looke Lucio , t is cleare day .
SCENA TERTIA . Enter Antonio , Galeatzo , Matzagente , Balurdo , Pandulpho Feliche , Alberto , Forobosco , Castilio , and a Page . Ant. DARKNESSE is fled : looke , infant morn hath drawne Bright siluer curtains , 'bout the couch of night : And now Auroras horse trots azure rings , Breathing faire light about the firmament , Stand , what 's that ? Mat. And if a horned diuell should burst forth , I would passe on him with a mortall stocke . Alb. Oh , a horned diuell would prooue ominous , Vnto a bridegroomes eyes , Mat.

A horned diuel ? good , good : ha ha ha , very good .

Al. Good tand prince laugh not . By the ioyes of loue , When thou dost girne , thy rusty face doth looke Like the head of a rosted rabbit : fie vpon t . Bal. By my troth , me thinks his nose is iust colour de Roy Mat.

I tel thee foole , my nose will abide no iest .

Bal.

No in truth , I doe not ieast , I speake truth . Truth is the touchstone of all things : and if your nose will not abide the truth , your nose will not abide the touch : and if your nose will not abide the touch , your nose is a copper nose , and must be nail'd vp for a slip .

Mat.

I scorne to retort the obtuse ieast of a foole .

Balurdo drawes out his writing tables , and writes . Bal.

Retort and obtuse , good words , very good words .

Gal.

Young Prince , looke sprightly ; fie , a bridegroom sadde !

Bal.

In truth , if he were retort , and obtuse , no question , hee would bee merrie : but and please my Genius , I will be most retort and obtuse ere night . I le tell you , what I le beare soone at night in my shielde , for my deuice .

Gal.

What , good Balurdo ?

Bal.

O , doe me right : sir Gefferey Balurdo : sir , sir , as long as yee liue , sir .

Gal.

What , good sir Gefferey Balurdo ?

Ba.

Marry forsooth , I le carrie for my deuice , my grand fathers great stone-hors , flinging vp his head , & ierking out his left legge . The word ; Wighy Purt . As I am a true knight , wil 't not bee most retort and obtuse , ha ?

Ant. Blowe hence these saplesse iestes . I tell you bloods My spirit 's heauie , and the iuyce of life Creepes slowly through my stifned arteries . Last sleep , my sense was steep't in horrid dreames : Three parts of night were swallow'd in the gulfe Of rauenous time , when to my slumbring powers , Two meager ghosts made apparition . The on 's breast seem'd fresh pauncht with bleeding wounds : Whose bubling gore sprang in frighted eyes . The other ghost assum'd my fathers shape : Both cride Reuenge . At which my trembling ioynts ( Iced quite ouer with a froz'd cold sweate ) Leap't forth the sheets . Three times I gasp't at shades : And thrice , deluded by erroneous sense , I forc't my thoughts make stand ; when loe , I op't A large bay window , through which the night Struck terror to my soule . The verge of heauen Was ringd with flames , and all the vpper vault Thick lac't with flakes of fire ; in midst whereof A blazing Comet shot his threatning traine Iust on my face . Viewing these prodigies , I bow'd my naked knee , and pierc't the starre , With an outfacing eye ; pronouncing thus ; Deus imperat astris . At which , my nose straight bled : Then doubl'd I my word , so slunke to bed . Ba.

Verely , sir Gefferey had a monstrous strange dream the last night . For mee thought I dreamt I was asleepe , and me thought the ground yaun'd and belkt vp the abhominable ghost of a misshapen Simile , with two vgly Pages ; the one called master , euen as going before ; and the other Mounser , euen so following after ; whil'st Signior Simile stalked most prodigiously in the midst . At which I bewrayed the fearefulnesse of my nature : and being readie to forsake the fortresse of my wit , start vp , called for a cleane shirt , eate a messe of broth , and with that I awakt .

Ant. I pree thee peace . I tell you gentlemen , The frightfull shades of night yet shake my braine : My gellied blood 's not thaw'd : the sulphur damps , That flowe in winged lightning 'bout my couch , Yet stick within my sense , my soule is great , In expectation of dire prodigies . Pan. Tut , my young Prince , let not thy fortunes see Their Lord a coward . He , that s nobly borne , Abhorres to feare . Base feare 's the brand of slaues . Hee that obserues , pursues , slinks back for fright , Was neuer cast in mould of noble spright . Ga. Tush , there 's a fun will straight exhale these damps Of chilling feare . Come , shal 's salute the bride ? Ant, Castilio , I pree the mixe thy breath with his : Sing one of Signior Renaldo's ayres , To rouse the slumbring bride from gluttoning , In surfet of superfluous sleepe . Good Signior , sing . CANTANT . What meanes this silence and vnmooued calme ! Boy , winde thy Cornet : force the leaden gates Of lasie sleepe fly open , with thy breath , My Mellida not vp ? not stirring yet ? vmh . Ma.

That voice , should be my sonnes Antonio 's . Antonio ?

Ant.

Here , who cals ? here stands Antonio .

Mari.

Sweete sonne .

Ant.

Deare mother .

Ma. Faire honour of a chast and loyall bed , Thy fathers beautie , thy sad mothers loue , Were I as powrefull as the voice of fate , Felicitie compleat should sweete thy state : But all the blessings , that a poore banisht wretch , Can powre vpon thy heade , take gentle sonne : Liue , gratious youth , to close thy mothers eyes , Lou'd of thy parents , till their latest hower : How cheares my Lord , thy father ? O sweet boy , Part of him thus I clip , my deare , deare ioy . Ant. Madam , last night I kist his princely hand , And tooke a treasur'd blessing from his lips : O mother , you arriue in Iubile , And firme attonement of all boystrous rage : Pleasure , vnited loue , protested faith , Guard my lou'd father , as sworne Pensioners : The Dukes are leagu'd in firmest bond of loue , And you arriue euen in the Solsticie , And highest point of sun-shine happinesse . One windes a Cornet within . Harke Madam , how you Cornet ierketh vp His straind shrill accents , in the capering ayre ; As proud to summon vp my bright cheek't loue . Now , mother , ope wide expectation : Let loose your amplest sense , to entertaine Th' impression of an obiect of such worth , That life 's too poore to . Gal.

Nay leaue Hyperboles .

Ant. I tel thee prince , that presence straight appears , Of which thou canst not forme Hyperboles , The trophy of tryumphing excellence : The heart of beautie , Mellida appeares . See , looke , the curtaine stirs , shine natures pride , Loues vitall spirit , deare Antonio's bride . The Curtain 's drawne , and the bodie of Feliche , stabd thick with wounds , appeares hung vp . What villaine bloods the window of my loue ? What slaue hath hung you gorie ensigne vp , In flat defiance of humanitie ? Awake thou faire vnspotted puritie . Death 's at thy windowe , awake bright Mellida : Antonio cals .
SCENA QVARTA . Enter Piero as at first , with Forobosco . Pie . WHO giues these il-befitting attributes Of chast , vnspotted , bright , to Mellida , He lies as lowde as thunder , shee 's vnchast , Tainted , impure , blacke as the soule of hell . He drawes his rapier , offers to runne at Piero : but Maria holds his arme & staies him . Ant. Dog , I will make the eate thy vomit vp , Which thou hast belk't gainst taintlesse Mellida . Ramm 't quicklie downe , that it may not rise vp To imbraid my thoughts . Behold my stomack 's : Strike me quite through with the relentlesse edge Of raging furie . Boy , I le kill thy loue Pandulfe Feliche , I haue stabd thy sonne : Looke , yet his lifeblood reekes vpon this steele . Albert , you hangs thy friend . Haue none of you Courage of vengeance ? Forget I am your Duke . Thinke Mellida is not Pieros bloode . Imagine on slight ground , I le blast his honour . Suppose I sawe not that incestuous slaue , Clipping the strumpet , with luxurious twines : O , numme my sense of anguish , cast my life In a dead sleepe , whilst lawe cuts off yon maine , Yon putred vlcer of my roiall bloode . Foro.

Keepe league with reason , gratious Soueraigne .

Pie . There glowe no sparkes of reason in the world ; All are rak't vp in ashie beastlinesse . The bulke of man 's as darke as Erebus , No branch of Reasons light hangs in his trunke : There liues no reason to keepe league withall . I ha no reason to be reasonable . Her wedding eue , linkt to the noble blood Of my most firmely reconciled friend , And found euen clingd in sensualitie ! O heauen ! O heauen ! Were she as neare my heart As is my liuer , I would rend her off .
SCENA QVINTA . Enter Strozzo . Str.

WHITHER , O whither shal I hurle vast griefe ?

Pier. Here , into my breast : t is a place built wide By fate , to giue receipt to boundlesse woes . Str. O no ; here throb those hearts , which I must cleaue With my keene pearcing newes . Andrugio's dead . Pier.

Dead ?

Ma.

O me most miserable .

Pie . Dead , alas , how dead ? Giue seeming passion . Fut weepe , act , faine . Dead , alas , how dead ? Str. The vast delights of his large sodaine ioyes Opned his powers so wide , that 's natiue heate So prodigally flow'd , t' exterior parts , That thinner Citadell was left vnmand , And so surpriz'd on sodaine by colde death . Mari. O fatal , disastrous , cursed , dismall ! Choake breath and life . I breath , I liue too long . Andrugio my Lord , I come , I come . Pie . Be cheerefull Princesse , help Castilio , The Ladie 's swouned , helpe to beare her in . Slow comfort to huge cares , is swiftest sin . Bal.

Courage , courage sweet Ladie , t is sir Gefferey Balurdo bids you courage . Truly I am as nimble as an Elephant about a Ladie .

Pan.

Dead ?

Ant.

Dead .

Alb.

Dead ?

An. Why now the womb of mischiefe is deliuer'd , Of the prodigious issue of the night . Pan.

Ha , ha , ha .

Ant. My father dead , my loue attaint of lust : That s a large lye , as vast as spatious hell : Poore guiltlesse Ladie . O accursed lye . What , whome , whether , which shall I first lament ? A deade father , a dishonour'd wife . Stand . Me thinkes I feele the frame of nature shake . Cracks not the ioynts of earth to beare my woes ? Alb.

Sweet Prince , be patient .

Ant. S'lid sir , I will not in despight of thee . Patience is slaue to fooles : a chaine that 's fixt Onely to postes , and senslesse log-like dolts . Alb.

T is reasons glorie to commaund affects .

An. Lies thy cold father dead , his glossed eyes New closed vp by thy sad mothers hands ? Hast thou a loue as spotlesse as the browe Of clearest heauen , blurd with false defames ? Are thy moyst entrals crumpled vp with griefe Of parching mischiefs ? Tel me , does thy hart With punching anguish spur thy galled ribs ? Then come and let 's sit and weep & wreath our arms : I le heare thy counsell . Alb. Take comfort Ant. Confusion to all comfort : I defie it . Comfort 's a Parasite , a flattring Iack : And melts resolu'd despaire . O boundlesse woe , If there be any black yet vnknowen griefe : If there be any horror yet vnfelt , Vnthought of mischiefe in thy fiendlike power , Dash it vpon my miserable heade . Make me more wretch , more cursed if thou canst . O , now my fate is more than I could feare : My woes more waightie than my soule can beare . Exit Pan. Ha , ha , ha , Al. Why laugh you vncle ? That s my cuz , your son , Whose brest hangs cased in his cluttered gore . Pa. True man , true : why , wherfore should I weepe ? Come sit , kinde Nephew : come on : thou and I Will talke as Chorus to this tragedie ▪ Intreat the musick straine their instruments , With a slight touch whilst we . Say on fair cuz . Alb. He was the very hope of Italy , Musick sounds softly . The blooming honour of your drooping age . P. True cuz , true . They say that men of hope are crusht : Good are supprest by base desertlesse clods , That stifle gasping vertue . Look sweet youth , How prouident our quick Venetians are , Least houes of iades should trample on my boy : Looke how they lift him vp to eminence , Heaue him , boue reach of flesh . Ha , ha , ha . Alb.

Vncle , this laughter ill becomes your griefe .

Pan. Would'st haue me cry , run rauing vp & down , For my sons losse ? would'st haue me turn rank mad , Or wring my face with mimick action ; Stampe , curse , weepe , rage , & then my bosome strike ? Away t is apish action , player-like . If hee is guiltlesse , why should teares be spent ? Thrice blessed soule that dyeth innocent . If he is leapred with so foule a guilt , Why should a sigh be lent , a teare be spilt ? The gripe of chaunce is weake , to wring a teare , From him that knowes what fortitude should beare . Listen young blood . T is not true valors pride , To swagger , quarrell , sweare , stampe , raue , and chide , To stab in fume of blood , to keepe lowde coyle , To bandie factions in domestick broyles , To dare the act of Sins , whose filth excels . The blackest customes of blinde Infidels . No , my lou'd youth : he may of valour vaunt ; Whom fortunes lowdest thunder can not daunt , Whom fretful gaules of chance , sterne fortunes siege ; Makes not his reason slinke , the soules faire liege , Whose well pais'd action euer rests vpon Not giddie humours , but discretion . This heart in valour euen Ioue out-goes : Ioue is without , but this 'boue sense of woes : And such a one eternitie : Behold , Good morrow sonne : thou bidst a fig for colde . Sound lowder musick : let my breath exact , You strike sad Tones vnto this dismall act .
ACT. II.
SCEN. I. The Cornets sound a cynet . Enter two mourners with torches , two with streamers : Castilio & Forobosco , with torches : a Heralde bearing Andrugio's helme & sword , the coffin : Maria supported by Lucio and Alberto , Antonio by himselfe : Piero , and Strozzo talking : Galeatzo and Matzagente , Balurdo & Pandulfo : the coffin set downe : helme , sworde , and streamers hung vp , placed by the Herald : whil'st Antonio and Maria wet their handkerchers with their teares , kisse them , and lay them on the hearse , kneeling : all goe out but Piero . Cornets cease , and he speakes . Pie . ROT ther thou cearcloth that infolds the flesh Of my loath'd foe ; moulder to crumbling dust : Obliuion choake the passage of thy fame . Trophees of honor'd birth droppe quickly downe : Let naught of him , but what was vitious , liue . Though thou art deade , thinke not my hate is dead : I haue but newly twone my arme in the curld locks Of snakie vengeance . Pale beetle-brow'd hate But newly bustles vp . Sweet wrong , I clap thy thoughts . O let me hug my bosome , rub my breast , In hope of what may happe . Andrugio rots : Antonio liues : vmh : how long ? ha , ha ; how long ? Antonio packt hence , I le his mother wed , Then cleare my daughter of supposed lust , Wed her to Florence heire . O excellent . Venice , Genoa , Florence , at my becke , At Piero's nod , Balurdo , ô ho . O , t will be rare , all vnsuspected donne . I haue bin nurst in blood , and still haue suckt The steeme of reeking gore . Balurdo , ho ? Enter Balurdo with a beard , halfe of , halfe on . Ba.

When my beard is on , most noble prince , when my beard is on .

Pier.

Why , what dost thou with a beard ?

Ba.

In truth , one tolde me that my wit was balde , & that a Meremaide was halfe fish , and halfe fish : and therefore to speake wisely , like one of your counsell , as indeede it hath pleased you to make me , not onely being a foole , of your counsell , but also to make me of your counsell , being a foole ; If my wit be bald , and a Mermaid be halfe fish and halfe cunger , then I must be forced to conclude the tyring man hath not glewd on my beard halfe fast , enough . Gods bones , it wil not stick to fal off .

Pie .

Dost thou know what thou hast spoken all this while ?

Ba.

O Lord Duke , I would be sorie of that . Many men can vtter that which , no man , but themselues can conceiue : but I thanke a good wit , I haue the gift to speake that which neither any man els , nor my selfe vnderstands .

Pi.

Thou art wise . He that speaks he knows not what , shal neuer sin against his own conscience : go to , thou art wise .

Ba.

Wise ? O no . I haue a little naturall discretion , or so : but for wise , I am somewhat prudent : but for wise , ô Lord .

Pie . .

Hold , take those keyes , open the Castle vault , & put in Mellida .

Bal. And put in Mellida ? well , let me alone , Pi. Bid Forobosco , and Castilio guard , Indeere thy selfe Piero's intimate . Bal.

Indeere , and intimate : good , I assure you . I will indeere and intimate Mellida into the dungeon presently .

Pie .

Will Pandulfo Feliche waite on me ?

Ba.

I will make him come , most retort and obtuse , to you presently . I thinke , sir Ieffrey talks like a counseller . Go to , gods neaks , I thinke I tickle it .

Pie . I le seeme to winde you foole with kindest arme . He that 's ambitious minded , and but man , Must haue his followers beasts , dubd slauish sots : Whose seruice is obedience , and whose wit Reacheth no further then to admire their Lord , And stare in adoration of his worth . I loue , a slaue rak't out of common mud Should seeme to sit in counsell with my heart . High honour'd blood 's too squemish to assent , And lend a hand to an ignoble act . Poyson from roses who could ere abstract ? How now Pandulfo , weeping for thy sonne ?
SCENA SECVNDA . Enter Pandulfo . Pan. NO no , Piero , weeping for my sinnes : Had I bin a good father , he had bin a gratious sonne . Pie .

Pollution must be purg'd .

Pan. Why taintst thou then the ayre with stench of flesh , And humane putrifactions noysome sent ? I pray his bodie . Who lesse boone can craue , Than to bestowe vpon the deade , his graue ? Pie . Graue ? why ? think'st thou he deserues a graue , That hath defil'd the temple of Pan. Peace , peace : Me thinks I heare a humming murmur creepe From out his gelli'd wounds . Looke on those lips , Those now lawne pillowes , on whose tender softnesse , Chaste modest speach , stealing from out his breast , Had wont to rest it selfe , as loath to poast From out so faire an Inne : look , look , they seeme to stir , And breath defyance to black obloquie . Pie .

Think'st thou thy sonne could suffer wrongfully ?

Pan. A wise man wrongfully , but neuer wrong Can take : his breast 's of such well tempered proofe , It may be rac'd , not pearc't by sauage tooth Of foaming malice : showers of dartes may darke Heauens ample browe : but not strike out a sparke ; Much lesse pearce the Suns cheek . Such songs as these , I often dittied till my boy did sleepe : But now I turne plaine foole ( alas ) I weepe . Pie . Fore heauen he makes me shrug : wold a were deade : He is a vertuous man . What has our court to doe With vertue , in the diuels name ! Pandulpho , harke . My lustfull daughter dies : start not , she dies . I pursue iustice , I loue sanctitie , And an vndefiled temple of pure thoughts . Shall I speake freely ? Good Andrugio's dead : And I doe feare a fetch ; but ( vmh ) would I durst speake . I doe mistrust ; but ( vmh ) death : is he all , all man : Hath he no part of mother in him , ha ? No licorish womanish inquisitiuenesse ? Pan.

Andrugio's deade !

Pie . I , and I feare , his owne vnnaturall blood , To whome he gaue life , hath giuen death for life . How could he come on , I see false suspect Is vicde ; wrung hardly in a vertuous heart . Well , I could giue you reason for my doubts . You are of honour'd birth , my very friende . You know how god-like t is to roote out sin . Antonio is a villaine . Will you ioyne In oath with me , against the traitors life , And sweare , you knewe , he sought his fathers death ? I lou'd him well , yet I loue iustice more : Our friends we should affect , iustice adore . Pan. My Lord , the clapper of my mouth 's not glibd With court oyle , t will not strike on both sides yet . Pie .

T is iust that subiectes acte commaunds of kings .

Pan.

Commaund then iust and honorable things .

Pie .

Euen so my selfe then will traduce his guilt .

Pan.

Beware , take heed least guiltlesse blood be spilt .

Pie . Where onely honest deeds to kings are free , It is no empire , but a beggery . Pan. Where more than noble deeds to kings are free , It is no empire , but a tyranny . Pie . Tush iuicelesse graybeard , t is immunity , Proper to princes , that our state exactes , Our subiects not alone to beare , but praise our acts . Pan. O , but that prince that worthfull praise aspires , From hearts , and not from lips , applause desires . Pie . Pish , true praise , the brow of common men doth ring , False , only girts the temple of a king , He that hath strength , and 's ignorant of power , He was not made to rule , but to be rul'd . Pan.

T is praise to doe , not what we can , but should .

Pie . Hence doting Stoick : by my hope of blisse , I le make thee wretched . Pan. Defyance to thy power , thou rifted Iawne . Now , by the lou'd heauen , sooner thou shalt Rince thy soule ribs from the black filth of sinne , That soots thy heart , then make me wretched . Pish , Thou canst not coupe me vp . Hadst thou a Iaile With trebble walles , like antick Babilon , Pandulpho can get out . I tell thee Duke , I haue ould Fortunatus wishing cappe : And can be where I list , euen in a trice . I le skippe from earth into the armes of heauen : And from tryumphall arch of blessednesse , Spit on thy froathy breast . Thou canst not slaue Or banish me ; I will be free at home , Maugre the bearde of greatnesse . The port holes Of sheathed spirit are nere corb'd vp : But still stand open readie to discharge Their pretious shot into the shrowds of heauen . Pie . O torture ! slaue , I banish thee the towne , Thy natiue seate of birth . Pa. How proud thou speak'st ! I tell thee Duke , the blasts Of the swolne cheekt winds , nor all the breath of kings Can puffe me out my natiue seat of birth . The earth 's my bodies , and the heauen 's my soules Most natiue place of birth , which they will keepe : Despite the menace of mortalitie . Why Duke : That 's not my natiue place , where I was rockt . A wise mans home is wheresoere he is wise . Now that , from man , not from the place doth rise . Pie . Wold I were deafe ( ô plague ) hence dotard wretch : Tread not in court . All that thou hast , I seize . His quiet 's firmer then I can disease . Pan. Goe , boast vnto thy flattring Sycophants ; Pandulpho's slaue , Piero hath orethrowne . Loose Fortunes rags are lost ; my owne 's my owne . Piero's going out , lookes backe , Exeunt at seuerall doores . T is true Piero , thy vext heart shall see , Thou hast but tript my slaue , not conquerd mee .
SCENA TERTIA . Enter Antonio with a booke , Lucio , Alberto , Antonio in blacke . Alb. NAY sweet be comforted , take counsell and Ant. Alberto , peace : that griefe is wanton sick , Whose stomacke can digest and brooke the dyet Of stale ill relisht counsell . Pigmie cares Can shelter vnder patience shield : but gyant griefes Will burst all couert . Lu.

My Lord , t is supper time .

Ant. Drinke deepe Alberto : eate , good Lucio : But my pin'd heart shall eat on naught but woe . Alb.

My Lord , we dare not leaue you thus alone .

Ant. You cannot leaue Antonio alone . The chamber of my breast is euen throngd , With firme attendance , that forsweares to flinch . I haue a thing sits here ; it is not griefe , T is not despaire , nor the most plague That the most wretched are infected with : But the most greefull , despairing , wretched , Accursed , miserable . O , for heauens sake Forsake me now ; you see how light I am , And yet you force me to defame my patience . Lu. Faire gentle prince Ant. Away , thy voice is hatefull : thou dost buzze , And beat my eares with intimations That Mellida , that Mellida is light , And stained with adulterous luxury : I cannot brook 't . I tell the Lucio , Sooner will I giue faith , that vertue 's scant In princes courts , will be adorn'd with wreath Of choyce respect , and indeerd intimate . Sooner will I beleeue that friendships raine . Will curbe ambition from vtilitie , Then Mellida is light . Alas poore soule , Didst ere see her ( good heart ) hast heard her speake ? Kinde , kinde soule . Incredulitie it selfe Would not be so brasse hearted , as suspect so modest cheeks Lu. My Lord Ant. Away , a selfe-one guilt doth onely hatch distrust : But a chaste thought 's as farre from doubt , as lust . I intreat you leaue me , Alb.

Will you endeauour to forget your griefe ?

Ant. I faith I will , good friend , I faith I will . I le come and eate with you . Alberto , see , I am taking Physicke , heer 's Philosophie . Good honest leaue me , I le drinke wine anone . Alb.

Since you enforce vs , faire prince , we are gone .

Exeunt Alberto and Lucio . Antonio reades . A.

Ferte fortiter : hoc est quo deum antecedatis . Ille enim extra patientiam malorum ; vos supra . Contemnite dolorem : aut soluetur , aut soluet . Contemnite fortunam : nullum telum , quo feriret animum habet .

Pish , thy mother was not lately widdowed , Thy deare affied loue , lately defam'd , With blemish of foule lust , when thou wrot'st thus . Thou wrapt in furres , beaking thy lymbs 'fore fiers , Forbidst the frozen Zone to shudder . Ha , ha : t is naught , But fomie bubling of a fleamie braine , Naught els but smoake . O what danke marrish spirit , But would be fyred with impatience , At my No more , no more : he that was neuer blest , With height of birth , faire expectation Of mounted fortunes , knowes not what it is To be the pittied obiect of the worlde . O , poore Antonio , thou maist sigh . Mell.

Aye me .

Ant. .

And curse .

Pan.

Black powers .

Ant.

And cry .

Ma.

O heauen .

Ant.

And close laments with

Alb.

O me most miserable .

Pan.

Woe for my deare deare sonne .

Mar.

Woe for my deare , deare husband .

Mel.

Woe for my deare deare loue .

Ant. Woe for me all , close all your woes in me : In me Antonio , ha ? Where liue these sounds ? I can see nothing ; griefe 's inuisible , And lurkes in secret angles of the heart . Come sigh againe , Antonio beares his part . Mell. O here , here is a vent to passe my sighes . I haue surcharg'd the dungeon with my plaints . Prison , and heart will burst , if void of vent . I , that is Phoebe , empresse of the night , That gins to mount ; ô chastest deitie : If I be false to my Antonio , If the least soyle of lust smeers my pure loue , Make me more wretched , make me more accurst Then infamie , torture , death , hell and heauen Can bound with amplest power of thought : if not , Purge my poore heart , with defamations blot . Ant. Purge my poore heart from defamations blot ! Poore heart , how like her vertuous selfe ▪ she speakes . Mellida , deare Mellida , it is Antonio : Slinke not away , t is thy Antonio . Mel. How found you out , my Lord ( alas ) I knowe T is easie in this age , to finde out woe . I haue a sute to you . Ant.

What is 't , deare soule ?

Mell. Kill me , I faith I le winke , not stir a iot . For God sake kill mee : insooth , lou'd youth , I am much iniur'd ; looke , see how I creepe . I cannot wreake my wrong , but sigh and weepe . An.

May I be cursed , but I credit thee .

Mell.

To morrowe I must die .

An.

Alas , for what ?

Mell. For louing thee ; t is true my sweetest breast . I must die falsely : so must thou , deare heart . Nets are a knitting to intrappe thy life . Thy fathers death must make a Paradice To my ( I shame to call him ) father . Tell me sweet , Shall I die thine ? dost loue mee still , and still ? Ant.

I doe .

Mell.

Then welcome heauens will .

Ant.

Madam , I will not swell like a Tragedian , in forced passion of affected straines .

If I had present power of ought but pittying you , I would be as readie to redresse your wrongs , as to pursue your loue . Throngs of thoughts crowde for their passage , somewhat I will doe .

Reach me thy hand : thinke this is honors bent , To liue vnslau'd , to die innocent . Mel. Let me entreat a fauour , gratious loue . Be patient , see me die , good doe not weepe : Goe sup , sweete chuck , drinke , and securely sleepe . Ant. I faith I cannot , but I le force my face To palliate my sicknesse . Mell. Giue me thy hand . Peace on thy bosome dwel : That s all my woe can breath : kisse . Thus farewell . Ant. Farewell : my heart is great of thoughts , Stay doue : And therefore I must speake : but what ? ô Loue ! By this white hande no more : reade in these teares , What crushing anguish thy Antonio beares . Antonio kisseth Mellida's hand : then Mellida goes from the grate . Mel. God night good harte , Ant.

Thus heate from blood , thus soules from bodies part .

Enter Piero and Strozzo . Pie . . He greeues , laughe Strozzo : laugh , he weepes . Hath he teares ? ô pleasure ! hath he teares ? Now doe I scourge Andrugio with steele whips Of knottie vengeance . Strozzo , cause me straight Some plaining dittie to augment despaire . Tryumph Piero : harke , he groanes , ô rare ! Ant. Beholde a prostrate wretch laid on his toumbe . His Epitaph , thus ; Ne plus vltra . Ho. Let none out , woe me : mine 's Herculean woe . CANTANT . Exit Piero at the end of the song .
SCENA QVARTA . Enter Maria . Ant. MAY I be more cursed then heauen can make me ; If I am not more wretched Then man can conceiue me . Sore forlorne Orphant , what omnipotence can make thee happie ? Mar.

How now sweete sonne ? good youth , what dost thou ?

Ant.

Weepe , weepe .

Mar.

Dost naught but weepe , weepe ?

Ant. Yes mother , I do sigh , and wring my hands , Beat my poore breast , and wreath my tender armes . Harke yee ; I le tel you wondrous strange , strange news . Ma.

What my good boy , starke mad ?

Ant.

I am not .

Ma.

Alas , is that strange newes ?

Ant. Strange news ? why mother , is 't not wondrous strange I am not mad ? I run not frantick , ha ? Knowing my fathers trunke scarce colde , your loue Is sought by him that doth pursue my life ? Seeing the beautie of creation , Antonio's bride , pure heart , defam'd , and stoad Vnder the hatches of obscuring earth . Heu quo labor , quo vota ceciderunt mea ! Enter Piero . Pie . Good euening to the faire Antonio , Most happie fortune , sweete succeeding time , Rich hope : think not thy fate a bankrout though Ant.

Vmh , the diuell in his good time and tide forsake thee .

Pie .

How now ? harke yee Prince .

An.

God be with you .

Pie .

Nay , noble blood , I hope yee not suspect

An. Suspect , I scorn 't . Here 's cap & leg ; good night : Thou that wants power , with dissemblance fight . Exit Antonio . Pier.

Madam , O that you could remember to forget

Ma.

I had a husband and a happie sonne .

Pi.

Most powreful beautie , that inchanting grace

Ma. Talke not of beautie , nor inchanting grace . My husband 's deade , my son 's distraught , accurst . Come , I must vent my griefes , or heart will burst . Exit Maria . Pie . Shee 's gone ( & yet she 's here ) she hath left a print Of her sweete graces fixt within my heart , As fresh as is her face . I le marrie her . Shee 's most fair , true , most chaste , most false : because Most faire , t is firme I le marrie her .
SCENA QVINTA . Enter Strotzo . Str. MY Lord , Piero . Ha , Strotzo , my other soule ; my life , Deare , hast thou steel'd the point of thy resolue ? Wilt not turne edge in execution ? Str.

No .

Pie . Doe it with rare passion , and present thy guilt , As if t were wrung out with thy conscience gripe . Sweare that my daughter's innocent of lust , And that Antonio brib'd thee to defame Her maiden honour , on inueterate hate Vnto my bloode ; and that thy hand was feed By his large bountie , for his fathers death . Sweare plainly that thou chok'tst Andrugio , By his sons onely egging . Rush me in Whil'st Mellida prepares her selfe to die : Halter about thy necke , and with such sighs , Laments and acclamations lyfen it , As if impulsiue power of remorse Str.

I le weepe .

Pie . I , I , fall on thy face and cry ; why suffer you So lewde a slaue as Strotzo is to breath ? Str. I le beg a strangling , growe importunate Pie . As if thy life were loathsome to thee : then I Catch straight the cords end ; and , as much incens'd With thy damn'd mischiefes , offer a rude hand , As readie to girde in thy pipe of breath : But on the sodaine straight I le stand amaz'd , And fall in exclamations of thy vertues . Str.

Applaud my agonies , and penitence .

Pie . Thy honest stomack , that could not disgest The crudities of murder : but surcharg'd , Vomited'st them vp in Christian pietie . Str.

Then clip me in your armes .

Pie . And call thee brother , mount thee straight to state , Make thee of counsell ; tut , tut , what not , what not ? Thinke on t , be confident , pursue the plot . Str. Looke here 's a troop , a true rogues lips are mute . I doe not vse to speake , but execute . He layes finger on his mouth , and drawes his dagger . Pie . So , so ; run headlong to confusion : Thou slight brain'd mischiefe , thou art made as durt , To plaster vp the bracks of my defects . I le wring what may be squeas'd from out his vse : And good night Strozzo . Swell plump bold heart . For now thy tide of vengeance rowleth in : O now Tragoedia Cothurnata mounts ▪ Piero's thoughts are fixt on dire exploites . Pell mell : confusion , and black murder guides The organs of my spirit : shrinke not heart . Capienda rebus in malis praeceps via est .
FINIS ACTVS SECVNDI .
ACT. III .
SCEN. I. A dumbe showe . The cornets sounding for the Acte . Enter Castilio and Forobosco , Alberto and Balurdo , with polaxes : Strozzo talking with Piero , seemeth to send out Strotzo . Exit Strotzo . Enter Strotzo , Maria , Nutriche , and Luceo . Piero passeth through his guard , and talkes with her with seeming amorousnesse : she seemeth to reiect his suite , flyes to the toumbe , kneeles , and kisseth it . Piero bribes Nutriche and Lucio : they goe to her , seeming to solicite his suite . She riseth , offers to goe out , Piero stayeth her , teares open his breast , imbraceth and kisseth her , and so they goe all out in State . Enter two pages , the one with two tapers , the other with a chafing dish : a perfume in it . Antonio , in his night gowne , and a night cap , vnbrac't , following after . An.

THE black iades of swart night trot foggy rings Bout heauens browe . ( 12 ) T is now starke deade night .

Is this Saint Markes Church ? 1. Pa.

It is , my Lord .

Ant.

Where stands my fathers hearse ?

2. Pa.

Those streamers beare his armes . I , that is it .

Ant. Set tapers to the toumbe , & lampe the Church . Giue me the fire , Now depart and sleepe . Exeunt pages . I purifie the ayre with odorous fume . Graues , valts , and toumbes , groane not to beare my weight , Colde flesh , bleake trunkes , wrapt in your half-rot shrowdes , I presse you softly , with a tender foote . Most honour'd sepulchre , vouchsafe a wretch , Leaue to weepe ore thee , Toumb , I le not be long Ere I creepe in thee , and with bloodlesse lips Kisse my cold fathers cheeke . I pree thee , graue , Prouide soft mould to wrap my carcasse in . Thou royal spirit of Andrugio , where ere thou houerst ( Ayrie intellectt ) I heaue vp tapers to thee ( viewe thy son ) In celebration of dewe obsequies . Once euery night , I le dewe thy funerall hearse With my religious teares , O blessed father of a cursed son , Thou diedst most happie , since thou liuedst not To see thy sonne most wretched , and thy wife Pursu'd by him that seekes my guiltlesse blood . O , in what orbe thy mightie spirit soares , Stoop and beat downe this rising fog of shame , That striues to blur thy blood , and girt defame About my innocent and spotlesse browes . Non est mori miserum , sed miserè mori . And. Thy pangs of anguish rip my cerecloth vp : And loe the ghoast of ould Andrugio Forsakes his coffin . Antonio , reuenge . I was impoyson'd by Piero's hand : Reuenge my bloode ; take spirit gentle boy : Reuenge my bloode . Thy Mellida , is chaste : Onely to frustrate thy pursuite in loue , Is blaz'd vnchaste . Thy mother yeelds consent To be his wife , & giue his bloode a sonne , That made her husbandlesse , and doth complot To make her sonlesse : but before I touch The banks of rest , my ghost shall visite her . Thou vigor of my youth , iuyce of my loue , Seize on reuenge , graspe the sterne bended front Of frowning vengeance , with vnpaized clutch . Alarum Nemesis , rouze vp thy blood , Inuent some stratageme of vengeance : Which but to thinke on , may like lightning glide , With horor through thy breast ; remember this . Scelera non vlcisceris , nisi vincis . Exit Andrugio's ghost .
SCENA SECVNDA . Enter Maria , her haire about her eares : Nutriche , and Lucio , with Pages , and torches . Ma.

WHERE left you him ? shewe mee good boyes , away .

Nut.

Gods mee , your haire .

Ma. Nurse , t is not yet prowde day : The neat gay mistes of the light 's not vp , Her cheekes not yet flurd ouer with the paint Of borrowed crimsone ; the vnpranked world Wears yet the night-cloathes : let flare my loosed hair . I scorne the presence of the night . Where 's my boy ? Run : I le range about the Church , Like frantick Bachanell , or Iasons wife , Inuoking all the spirits of the graues , To tell me where . Hah ? O my poore wretched blood , What dost thou vp at midnight , my kinde boy ? Deare soule , to bed : ô thou hast struck a fright Vnto thy mothers panting O quisquis noua Supplicia functis dirus vmbrarum arbiter Disponis , quisquis exeso iaces Pauidus sub antri , quisquis venturi times Montis ruinam , quisquis auidorum feres , Rictus leonum , & dira furiarum agmina Implicitus horres , Antonii vocem excipe Properantis ad vos Vlciscar . Ma. Alas my son 's distraught . Sweete boy appease Thy mutining affections . Ant. By the astonning terror of swart night , By the infectious damps of clammie graues , And by the mould that presseth downe My deade fathers sculle : I le be reueng'd . Ma. Wherefore ? on whom ? for what ? go , go to bed Good dutious sonne . Ho , but thy idle An. So I may sleepe toumb'd in an honour'd hearse , So may my bones rest in that Sepulcher , Ma.

Forget not dutie sonne : to bed , to bed .

An. May I be cursed by my fathers ghost , And blasted with incensed breath of heauen , If my heart beat on ought but vengeance , May I be numd with horror , and my vaines Pucker with sing'ing torture , if my braine Disgest a thought , but of dire vengeance : May I be fetter'd slaue to coward Chaunce , If blood , heart , braine , plot ought saue vengeance . Ma. Wilt thou to bed ? I wonder when thou sleepst ! Ifaith thou look'st sunk-ey'd ; go couch thy head : Now faith t is idle : sweet , sweet sonne to bed . Ant. I haue a prayer or two , to offer vp , For the good , good Prince , my most deare , dear Lord , The Duke Piero , and your vertuous selfe : And then when those prayers haue obtain'd successe , In sooth I le come ( beleeue it now ) and couch My heade in downie moulde : but first I le see You safely laide . I le bring yee all to bed . Piero , Maria , Strotzo , Lucio , I le see you all laid : I le bringe you all to bed , And then , ifaith , I le come and couch my head , And sleepe in peace . Ma.

Looke then , wee goe before .

Exeunt all but Antonio . Ant. I , so you must , before we touch the shore Of wisht reuenge . O you departed soules , That lodge in coffin'd trunkes , which my feet presse ( If Pythagorian Axiomes be true , Of spirits transmigration ) floote no more To humane bodies , rather liue in swine , Inhabit wolues flesh , scorpions , dogs , and toads , Rather then man , The curse of heauen raines In plagues vnlimitted through all his daies , His mature age growes onely mature vice , And ripens onely to corrupt and rot The budding hopes of infant modestie . Still striuing to be more then man , he prooues More then a diuell , diuelish suspect , diuelish crueltie : All hell-straid iuyce is powred to his vaines , Making him drunke with fuming surquedries , Contempt of heauen , vntam'd arrogance , Lust , state , pride , murder . And.

Murder . From aboue and beneath .

Fel.

Murder . From aboue and beneath .

Pa.

Murder . From aboue and beneath .

Ant. I , I will murder : graues and ghosts Fright me no more , I le suck red vengeance Out of Pieros wounds Piero's wounds . Enter two boyes , with Piero in his night gown & night cap. Pie . Maria , loue Maria : she tooke this I le . Left you her here ? On lights away : I thinke we shall not warme our beds to day . Enter Iulio , Forobosco , and Castilio . Iul.

Ho , father ? father ?

Pie . How now Iulio , my little prettie sonne ? Why suffer you the childe to walke so late . Foro. He will not sleepe , but cals to followe you , Crying that bug-beares & spirits haunted him . Antonio offers to come , nere and stab , Piero presently withdrawes . Ant. No , not so . This shall be sought for ; I le force him feede on life Till he shall loath it . This shall be the close . Of vengeance straine . Pie . Away there : Pages , leade on fast with light . The Church is full of damps : t is yet deade night . Exit all , sauing Iulio .
SCENA TERTIA . Iul. BROTHER Antonio , are you here ifaith ? Why doe you frowne ? Indeed my sister said , That I should call you brother , that she did , When you were married to her . Busse me ; good Truth , I loue you better then my father , deede . Ant. Thy father ? Gratious , ô bounteous heauen ! I doe adore thy Iustice ; Venit in nostras manus Tandem vindicta , venit & tota quidem . Iul. Truth , since my mother dyed , I lou'd you best . Something hath angred you ; pray you look merily . Ant. I will laugh , and dimple my thinne cheeke , With capring ioy ; chuck , my heart doth leape To graspe thy bosome . Time , place , and blood , How fit you close togither ! Heauens tones Strike not such musick to immortall soules , As your accordance sweetes my breast withall . Me thinks I pase vpon the front of Ioue , And kick corruption with a scornefull heele , Griping this flesh , disdaine mortalitie . O that I knewe which ioynt , which side , which lim Were father all , and had no mother in 't : That I might rip it vaine by vaine ; and carue reuenge In bleeding races : but since 't is mixt together , Haue at aduenture , pel mell , no reuerse . Come hither boy . This is Andrugio's hearse . Iul. O God , you le hurt me . For my sisters sake , Pray you doe not hurt me . And you kill me , deede , I le tell my father An.

O , for thy sisters sake , I flagge reuenge .

Andr.

Reuenge .

Ant. Stay , stay , deare father , fright mine eyes no more . Reuenge as swift as lightning bursteth forth , And cleares his heart . Come , prettie tender childe , It is not thee I hate , not thee I kill . Thy fathers blood that flowes within thy veines , Is it I loath ; is that , Reuenge must sucke . I loue thy soule : and were thy heart lapt vp In any flesh , but in Piero's bloode , I would thus kisse it : but being his : thus , thus , And thus I le punch it . Abandon feares . Whil'st thy wounds bleede , my browes shall gush out teares . Iuli.

So you will loue me , doe euen what you will .

Ant. Now barkes the Wolfe against the full cheekt Moone . Now Lyons halfe-clamd entrals roare for food . Now croakes the toad , & night-crowes screech aloud , Fluttering 'bout casements of departing soules . Now gapes the graues , and through their yawnes let loose Imprison'd spirits to reuisit earth : And now swarte night , to swell thy hower out , Behold I spurt warme bloode in thy blacke eyes . From vnder the stage a groane . Ant. Howle not thou pury mould , groan not ye graues . Be dumbe all breath . Here stands Andrugio's sonne , Worthie his father . So : I feele no breath . His iawes are falne , his dislodg'd soule is fled : And now there 's nothing , but Piero , left . He is all Piero , father all . This blood , This breast , this heart , Piero all : Whome thus I mangle . Spright of Iulyo , Forget this was thy trunke . I liue thy friend . Maist thou be twined with the sofest imbrace Of cleare eternitie : but thy fathers blood , I thus make incense of , to vengeance . Ghost of my poysoned Syre , sucke this fume : To sweete reuenge perfume thy circling ayre , With smoake of bloode . I sprinkle round his goare , And dewe thy hearse , with these fresh reeking drops . Loe thus I heaue my blood-died handes to heauen : Euen like insatiate hell , still crying ; More . My heart hath thirsting Dropsies after goare . Sound peace , and rest , to Church , night ghosts , and graues . Blood cries for bloode ; and murder murder craues .
SCENA QVARTA . Enter two Pages with torches . Marya , her hayre loose , and Nutriche . Nut.

FY , fie ; to morrowe your wedding day , and weepe ! Gods my comfort . Andrugio could do well : Piero may doe better . I haue had foure husbands my selfe . The first I called , Sweete Duck ; the second , Deare Heart ; the third , Prettie Pugge : But the fourth most sweete , deare , prettie , all in all : he was the verie cockeall of a husband . What , Ladie ? your skinne is smooth , your bloode warme , your cheeke fresh , your eye quick : change of pasture makes fat calues : choice of linnen , cleane bodies ; and ( no question ) variety of husbands perfect wiues . I would you should knowe it , as fewe teeth as I haue in my heade , I haue red Aristotles Problemes , which saith ; that woman receiueth perfection by the man . What then be the men ? Goe to , to bed , lye on your backe , dream not on Piero . I say no more : to morrowe is your wedding : doe , dreame not of Piero .

Enter Balurdo with abase Vyole . Ma. What an idle prate thou keep'st ? good nurse goe sleepe . I haue a mightie taske of teares to weepe . Bal.

Ladie , with a most retort and obtuse legge I kisse the curled locks of your loose haire . The Duke hath sent you the most musicall sir Gefferey , with his not base , but most innobled Viole , to rock your baby thoughts in the Cradle of sleepe .

Ma.

I giue the noble Duke respectiue thanks .

Bal.

Respectiue ; truely a verie prettie word . Indeed Madam , I haue the most respectiue fiddle ▪ Did you euer smell a more sweete sounde . My dittie must goe thus ; verie wittie , I assure you : I my selfe in an humorous passion made it , to the tune of my mistresse Nutriches beautie . Indeede , verie prettie , verie retort , and obtuse ; I le assure you t is thus .

My mistresse eye doth oyle my ioynts , And makes my fingers nimble : O loue , come on , vntrusse your points , My fiddlestick wants Rozzen . My Ladies dugges are all so smooth , That no flesh must them handle : Her eyes doe shine , for to say sooth , Like a newe snuffed candle . Mar.

Truelie , verie patheticall , and vnuulgar .

Ba.

Patheticall , and vnuulgar ; words of worth , excellent words . In sooth , Madam , I haue taken a murre , which makes my nose run most patheticallie , and vnvulgarlie . Haue you anie Tobacco ?

Ma.

Good Signior , your song .

Ba. Instantlie , most vnvulgarlie , at your seruice . Truelie , here 's the most patheticall rozzen . Vmh . CANTANT . Ma.

In sooth , most knightlie sung , & like sir Gefferey .

Ba.

Why , looke you Ladie , I was wade a knight only for my voice ; & a counseller , only for my wit .

Ma.

I beleeue it . God night , gentle sir , god night .

Bal.

You will giue me leaue to take my leaue of my mistresse , and I will do it most famously in rime .

Farewell , adieu : Saith thy loue true , As to part loath . Time bids vs parte , Mine owne sweete heart , God blesse vs both . Exit Balurdo . Ma. God night Nutriche . Pages , leaue the roome . The life of night growes short , t is almost dead . Exeunt Pages and Nutriche . O thou cold widdowe bed , sometime thrice blest , By the warme pressure of my sleeping Lord : Open thy leaues , and whilst on thee I treade , Groane out . Alas , my deare Andrugio 's deade . Maria draweth the courtaine : and the ghost of Andrugio is displayed , sitting on the bed . Amazing terror , what portent is this ?
SCENA QVINTA . And. DISLOYAL to our Hymniall rites , What raging heat rains in thy strumpet blood ? Hast thou so soone forgot Andrugio ? Are our loue-bands so quickly cancelled ? Where liues thy plighted faith vnto this breast ? O weake Marya ! Go to , calme thy feares . I pardon thee , poore soule . O shed no teares . Thy sexe is weake . That black incarnate fiende May trippe thy faith , that hath orethrowne my life : I was impoyson'd by Piero's hand . Ioyne with my sonne , to bend vp straind reuenge . Maintaine a seeming fauour to his suite , Till time may forme our vengeance absolute . Enter Antonio , his armes bloody : a torch and a poniard . An. See , vnamaz'd , I will beholde thy face , Outstare the terror of thy grimme aspect , Daring the horred'st obiect of the night . Looke how I smoake in blood , reeking the steame Of foming vengeance . O my soule 's inthroan'd In the tryumphant chariot of reuenge . Me thinks I am all ayre , and feele no waight Of humane dirt clogge . This is Iulios bloode . Rich musique , father ; this is Iulio's blood . Why liues that mother ? And. Pardon ignorance . Fly deare Antonio : Once more assume disguise , and dog the Court In fained habit , till Piero's blood May euen ore-flowe the brimme of full reuenge . Exit Antonio . Peace , and all blessed fortunes to you both . Fly thou from Court , be pearelesse in reuenge : Sleepe thou in rest , loe here I close thy couch . Exit Maria to her bed , Andrugio drawing the Curtaines . And now yee sootie coursers of the night , Hurrie your chariot into hels black wombe . Darkenesse , make flight ; Graues , eat your dead again : Let 's repossesse our shrowdes . Why lags delay ? Mount sparkling brightnesse , giue the world his day . Exit Andrugio .
Explicit Actus tertius .
ACT. IIII .
SCEN. I. Enter Antonio in a fooles habit , with a little toy of a walnut shell , and sope , to make bubbles : Maria , and Alberto . Ma.

AWAY with this disguise in any hand .

Alb. Fie , t is vnsuting to your elate spirite : Rather put on some transshap't caualier , Some habit of a spitting Critick , whose mouth Voids nothing but gentile and vnuulgar Rheume of censure : rather assume . Ant. Why then should I put on the verie flesh Of solid folly . No , this cockscombe is a crowne Which I affect , euen with vnbounded zeale . Al.

T wil thwart your plot , disgrace your high resolue .

An. By wisdomes heart there is no essence mortal , That I can enuie , but a plumpe cheekt foole : O , he hath a patent of immunities Confirm'd by custome , seald by pollicie , As large as spatious thought . Alb. You can not presse among the courtiers , And haue accesse to An. What ? not a foole ? Why friend , a golden asse , A babl'd foole are sole canonicall , Whil'st pale cheekt wisdome , and leane ribd arte Are kept in distance at the halberts point : All held Apocrypha , not worth suruey . Why , by the Genius of that Florentine , Deepe , deepe obseruing , sound brain'd Macheueil , He is is not wise that striues not to seeme foole . When will the Duke holde feed Intelligence , Keepe warie obseruation in large pay , To dogge a fooles act ? Mar.

I , but such faining , known , disgraceth much .

An. Pish , most things that morally adhere to soules , Wholly exist in drunke opinion : Whose reeling censure , if I valew not , It valewes naught . Ma. You are transported with too slight a thought , If you but meditate of what is past , And what you plot to passe . Ant. Euen in that , note a fooles beatitude : He is not capeable of passion , Wanting the power of distinction , He beares an vnturnd sayle with euery winde : Blowe East , blowe West , he stirs his course alike . I neuer sawe a foole leane : the chub-fac't fop Shines sleeke with full cramm'd fat of happinesse , Whil'st studious contemplation sucks the iuyce From wisards cheekes : who making curious search For Natures secrets , the first innating cause Laughes them to scorne , as man doth busie Apes When they will zanie men . Had heauen bin kinde , Creating me an honest senselesse dolt , A good poore foole , I should want sense to feele The stings of anguish shoot through euery vaine , I should not know what t were to loose a father : I should be deade of sense , to viewe defame Blur my bright loue ; I could not thus run mad , As one confounded in a maze of mischiefe , Staggerd , starke feld with brusing stroke of chance . I should not shoote mine eyes into the earth , Poring for mischiefe , that might counterpoise Enter Luceo . mischiefe , murder and How now Lucio ? Lu. My Lord , the Duke , with the Venetian States , Approach the great hall to iudge Mellida . Ant.

Askt he for Iulio yet ?

Lu.

No motion of him : dare you trust this habit ?

An. Alberto , see you streight rumour me dead : Leaue me , good mother , leaue me Luceo , Forsake me all . Now patience hoope my sides , Exeunt omnes , sauing Antonio . With steeled ribs , least I doe burst my breast With struggling passions . Now disguise stand bolde . Poore scorned habits , oft choyce soules infould . The Cornets sound a Cynet .
SCENA SECVNDA . Enter Castilio , Forobosco , Balurdo & Alberto , with polaxes : Luceo bare . Piero & Maria talking together : two Senators , Galeatzo , and Matzagente , Nutriche . Pie . INTREAT me not : ther 's not a beauty liues , Hath that imperiall predominance Ore my affectes , as your inchanting graces : Yet giue me leaue to be my selfe . Ant.

A villaine .

Pier.

Iust .

Ant.

Most iust .

Pie . Most iust and vpright in our iudgement seat . Were Mellida mine eye , with such a blemish Of most loath'd loosenesse , I would scratch it out . Produce the strumpet in her bridall robes , That she may blush t' appeare so white in showe , And blacke in inward substance . Bring her in . Exeunt Forobosco and Castilio . I holde Antonio , for his fathers sake , So verie dearely , so entirely choyce , That knewe I but a thought of preiudice , Imagin'd 'gainst his high innobled blood , I would maintaine a mortall feude , vndying hate Gainst the conceiuers life . And shall Iustice sleepe In fleshly Lethargie , for myne owne bloods fauour , When the sweete prince hath so apparant scorne By my ( I wil not call her ) daughter . Goe , Conduct in the loued youth Antonio : Exit Alberto to fetch Antonio . He shall beholde me spurne my priuate good . Piero loues his honour more then 's blood . Ant.

The diuell he does more then both .

Ba.

Stand backe there , foole ; I do hate a foole most most pathetically . O these that haue no sappe of of retort and obtuse wit in them : faugh .

Ant.

Puffe ; holde world : puffe , hold bubble ; Puffe , holde world : puffe , breake not behinde : puffe , thou art full of winde ; puffe , keepe vp by winde : puffe , 't is broake : & now I laugh like a good foole at the breath of mine owne lips , he , he , he , he , he .

Bal.

You foole .

Ant.

You foole , puffe .

Ba.

I cannot disgest thee , the vnuulgar foole . Goe foole .

Pier. Forbeare , Balurdo , let the foole alone , Come hither ( ficto ) Is he your foole ? Ma.

Yes , my lou'd Lord .

Pi. Would all the States in Venice were like thee . O then I were secur'd . He that 's a villaine , or but meanely sowl'd , Must stil conuerse , and cling to routes of fooles , That can not search the leakes of his defectes . O , your vnsalted fresh foole is your onely man : These vinegar tart spirits are too pearcing , Too searching in the vnglewd ioynts of shaken wits . Finde they a chinke , they 'l wriggle in and in , And eat like salt sea in his siddowe ribs , Till they haue opened all his rotten parts , Vnto the vaunting surge of base contempt , And sunke the tossed galleasse in depth Of whirlepoole Scorne . Giue me an honest fopp : Dud a dud a ? why loe sir , this takes he As grateful now , as a Monopolie .
SCENA TERTIA . The still flutes sound softly . Enter Forobosco , and Castilio : Mellida supported by two waiting women . Mell.

ALL honour to this royall confluence .

Pie . Forbeare ( impure ) to blot bright honours name , With thy defiled lips . The fluxe of sinne Flowes from thy tainted bodie : thou so foule , So all dishonour'd , canst no honour giue , No wish of good , that can haue good effect To this graue senate , and illustrate bloodes . Why staies the doome of death ? 1. Sen.

Who riseth vp to manifest her guilt ?

2. Sen.

You must produce apparant proofe , my Lord .

Pie . Why , where is Strotzo ? he that swore he saw The verie acte : and vow'd that Feliche fled Vpon his sight : on which , I brake the breast Of the adulterous letcher , with fiue stabbes . Goe fetch in Strotzo . Now thou impudent , If thou hast any droppe of modest bloode Shrowded within thy cheeks ; blush , blush for shame , That rumor yet may say , thou felt'st defame . Mell. Produce the diuel , ; let your Strotzo come : I can defeat his strongest argument , Which Pie .

With what ?

Mell. With teares , with blushes , sighes , & clasped hands , With innocent vpreared armes to heauen : With my vnnookt simplicitie . These , these Must , will , can only quit my heart of guilt . Heauen permits not taintlesse blood be spilt . If no remorse liue in your sauage breast Piero . Then thou must die Mell.

Yet dying , I le be blest .

Piero .

Accurst by me .

Mell. Yet blest , in that I stroue To liue , and die Pie .

My hate .

Mell.

Antonyo's loue .

Ant.

Antonio's loue !

Enter Strotzo , a corde about his necke . Stro. O what vast ocean of repentant teares Can cleanse my breast from the polluting filth Of vlcerous sinne ! Supreame Efficient , Why cleau'st thou not my breast with thunderbolts Of wingd reuenge ? Pie .

What meanes this passion ?

An.

What villanie are they decocting now ? Vmh .

Str. In me conuertite ferrum , O proceres . Nihil iste , nec ista . Pie .

Lay holde on him . What strange portent is this ?

Str. I will not flinch . Death , hel more grimly stare Within my heart , then in your threatning browes . Record , thou threefolde garde of dreadest power , What I here speake , is forced from my lips , By the pulsiue straine of conscience , I haue a mount of mischiefe clogs my soule , As waightie as the high-nol'd Appenine : Which I must straight disgorge , or breast will burst . I haue defam'd this Ladie wrongfully , By instigation of Antonio : Whose reeling loue , tost on each fancies surge , Began to loath before it fully ioyed . Exit Forobosco . Pie .

Goe , seize Antonio , guard him strongly in .

Str. By his ambition , being only brib'd , Feed by his impious hand , I poysoned His aged father : that his thirstie hope Might quench their dropsie of aspiring drought , With full vnbounded quaffe . Pie .

Seize me Antonio .

Str. O why permit you now such scum of filth As Strotzo is , to liue , and taint the ayre , With his infectious breath ! Pie .

My selfe will be thy strangler , vnmatcht slaue .

Piero comes from his chaire , snatcheth the cords end , & Castilio aydeth him ; both strangle Strotzo . Str. Now change your Pie . I , pluck Castilio : I change my humour ? plucke Castilio . Dye , with thy deathes intreats euen in thy iawes . Now , now , now , now , now , my plot begins to worke . Why , thus should States-men doe , That cleaue through knots of craggie pollicies , Vse men like wedges , one strike out another ; Till by degrees the tough and knurly trunke Be riu'd in sunder . Where 's Antonio ? Enter Alberto , running . Alb.

O black accursed fate . Antonyo's drown'd .

Pie .

Speake , on thy faith , on thy allegeance , speake .

Alb.

As I doe loue Piero , he is drownde .

Ant.

In an inundation of amazement .

Mell. I , is this the close of all my straines in loue ? O me most wretched maide . Pie .

Antonio drownde ? how ? how ? Antonio drownd ?

Alb. Distraught and rauing , from a turrets top He threwe his bodie in the high swolne sea , And as he headlong topsey turuie dingd downe ,

He still cri'd Mellida .

Ant.

My loues bright crowne .

Mell.

He still cry'd Mellida ?

Pier. Daughter , me thinks your eyes should sparkle ioy , Your bosome rise on tiptoe at this news . Mell.

Aye me .

Pie . How now ? Ay me ? why , art not great of thanks To gratious heauen , for the iust reuenge Vpon the author of thy obloquies ! Ma. Sweete beautie , I could sigh as fast as you , But that I knowe that , which I weepe to knowe , His fortunes should be such he dare not showe His open presence . Mell. I knowe he lou'd me dearely , dearely , I : And since I cannot liue with him , I dye . Pie . Fore heauen , her speach falters , look she swouns . Conuey her vp into her priuate bed . Maria , Nutriche , and the Ladies beare out Mellida , as being swouned . I hope shee le liue . If not An. Antonio's dead , the foole wil follow too , he , he , he , Now workes the sceane ; quick obseruation scud To coate the plot , or els the path is lost : My verie selfe am gone , my way is fled : I , all is lost , if Mellida is deade . Exit Antonio . Pie . Alberto , I am kinde , Alberto , kinde . I am sorie for thy couz , ifaith I am . Goe , take him downe , and beare him to his father : Let him be buried , looke yee , I le pay the priest . Alb.

Please you to admit his father to the Court ?

Piero .

No .

Al.

Please you to restore his lands & goods againe ?

Piero .

No .

Alb.

Please you vouchsafe him lodging in the city ?

Pie . Gods fut , no , thou odde vnciuill fellow : I thinke you doe forget sir , where you are . Alb.

I know you doe forget sir , where you must be .

Foro. You are too malepert , ifaith you are . Your honour might doe well to Alb. Peace Parasite , thou bur , that only sticks Vnto the nappe of greatnesse . Pie .

Away with that same yelping cur , away .

Alb. I , I am gone : but marke , Piero , this . There is a thing cald scourging Nemesis . Exit Alb. Bal. Gods neakes he has wrong , that he has : and S'fut , and I were as he , I would beare no coles , lawe I , I begin to swell , puffe . Pie .

How now foole , fop , foole ?

Foole , fop , foole ? Marry muffe . I pray you , how manie fooles haue you seene goe in a suite of Sattin ? I hope yet , I doe not look a foole ifaith : a foole ? Gods bones , I scorn 't with my heele . S'neaks , and I were worth but three hundred pound a yeare more , I could sweare richly : nay , but as poore as I am , I will sweare the fellowe hath wrong .

Piero . Young Galeatzo ? I , a proper man . Florence , a goodly citie : it shall be so . I le marrie her to him instantly . Then Genoa mine , by my Mariaes match , Which I le solemnize ere next setting Sun . Thus Venice , Florence , Genoa , strongly leagu'd . Excellent , excellent . I le conquer Rome , Pop out the light of bright religion : And then , helter skelter , all cock sure . Ba.

Goe to , t is iust , the man hath wrong : go to .

Pie . Goe to , thou shalt haue right . Go to Castilio , Clap him into the Palace dungeon : Lappe him in rags , and let him feede on slime That smeares the dungeon cheeke . Away with him . Bal.

In verie good truth now , I le nere do so more ; this one time and

Pie .

Away with him , obserue it strictly , goe .

Ba. Why then , ô wight , alas poore knight . O , welladay , sir Gefferey . Let Poets roare , And all deplore : for now I bid you god night . Exit Balurdo with Castilio . Ma. O pittious end of loue : ô too too rude hand Of vnrespectiue death ! Alas , sweete maide . Pi.

Forbear me heauen . What intend these plaints ?

Mar. The beautie of admir'd creation , The life of modest vnmixt puritie , Our sexes glorie , Mellida is Pie .

What ? ô heauen , what ?

Ma.

Deade .

Pie .

May it not sad your thoughts , how ?

Ma. Being laid vpon her bed , she graspt my hand , And kissing it , spake thus ; Thou very pore , Why dost not weepe ? The Iewell of thy browe , The rich adornement , that inchac't thy breast , Is lost : thy son , my loue is lost , is deade . And doe I liue to say Antonio's deade ? And haue I liu'd to see his vertues blurd , With guiltlesse blots ! O world thou art too subtile , For honest natures to conuerse withall . Therefore I le leaue thee ; farewell mart of woe , I fly to clip my loue , Antonio . With that her head sunk down vpon her brest : Her cheeke chang'd earth , her senses slept in rest : Vntill my foole , that press'd vnto the bed , Screch't out so lowd , that he brought back her soule , Calde her againe , that her bright eyes gan ope , And starde vpon him : he audatious foole , Dar'd kisse her hand , wisht her soft rest , lou'd bride ; She fumbled out , thanks good , and so she dide . Piero . And so she dide : I doe not vse to weepe : But by thy loue ( out of whose fertile sweete , I hope for as faire fruite ) I am deepe sad : I will not stay my mariage for all this . Castilio Forobosco , all Straine all your wits , winde vp inuention Vnto his highest bent : to sweete this night , Make vs drinke Lethe by your queint conceipts ; That for two daies , obliuion smother griefe : But when my daughters exequies approach , Let 's all turne sighers . Come , despight of fate , Sound lowdest musick , let s pase out in state . The Cornets sound . Exeunt .
SCENA QVARTA . Enter Antonio solus , in fooles habit . Ant. I Heauen , thou maist , thou maist omnipotence . What vermine bred of putrifacted slime , Shall dare to expostulate with thy decrees ! O heauen , thou maist indeede : she was all thine , All heauenly , I did but humbly beg To borrowe her of thee a little time . Thou gau'st her me , as some weake breasted dame Giueth her infant , puts it out to nurse ; And when it once goes high-lone , takes it back . She was my vitall blood , and yet , and yet , I le not blaspheame . Looke here , beholde , Antonio puts off his cap , and lyeth iust vpon his back . I turne my prostrate breast vpon thy face , And vent a heauing sigh . O heare but this ; I am a poore poore Orphant ; a weake , weak childe , The wrack of splitted fortune , the very Ouze , The quick sand that deuours all miserie . Beholde the valiant'st creature that doth breath . For all this , I dare liue , and I will liue , Onely to numme some others cursed bloode , With the dead palsie of like misery . Then death , like to a stifling Incubus , Lie on my bosome . Loe sir , I am sped . My breast is Golgotha , graue for the deade .
SCENA QVINTA . Enter Pandulpho , Alberto , and a Page , carrying Feliches trunke in a winding sheete , and lay it thwart Antonios breast . Pan. ANTONIO , kisse my foote : I honour thee , In laying thwart my blood vpon thy breast . I tell thee boy , he was Pandulphos sonne : And I doe grace thee with supporting him , Young man . The dominering Monarch of the earth , He who hath naught that fortunes gripe can seize , He who is all impregnably his owne , Hee whose great heart heauen can not force with force , Vouchsafes his loue . Non seruio Deo , sed assentio . Ant.

I ha lost a good wife .

Pan. Didst finde her good , or didst thou make her good ? If found , thou maist refinde , because thou hadst her . If made , the worke is lost : but thou that mad'st her Liu'st yet as cunning . Hast lost a good wife ? Thrice blessed man that lost her whilst she was good , Faire , young , vnblemisht , constant , louing , chaste . I tell thee youth , age knows , yong loues seeme grac't , Which with gray cares , rude iarres , are oft defac't . An.

But shee was full of hope .

Pan. May be , may be : but that , which may be , stood , Stands now without all may ; she died good , And dost thou grieue ? Alberto .

I ha lost a true friend .

Pan. I liue incompast with two blessed soules . Thou lost a good wife , thou lost a trew friend , ha ? Two of the rarest lendings of the heauens : But lendings : which at the fixed day of pay Set downe by fate , thou must restore againe . O what vnconscionable soules are here ? Are you all like the spoke-shaues of the Church ? Haue you no mawe to restitution ? Hast lost a true friend , cuz ? then thou hadst one . I tell thee youth , t is all as difficult To finde true friend in this apostate age ( That balkes all right affiance twixt two hearts ) As t is to finde a fixed modest heart , Vnder a painted breast . Lost a true friend ? O happie soule that lost him whilst he was true . Beleeue it cuz , I to my teares haue found , Oft durts respect makes firmer friends vnsounde . Alb.

You haue lost a good sonne .

Pan. Why there 's the confort on t , that he was good : Alas , poore innocent . Alb.

Why weepes mine vncle ?

Pan. Ha , dost aske me why ? ha ? ha ? Good cuz , looke here . He showes him his sonnes breast . Man will breake out , despight Philosophie . Why , all this while I ha but plaid a part , Like to some boy , that actes a Tragedie , Speakes burly words , and raues out passion : But , when he thinks vpon his infant weaknesse , He droopes his eye . I spake more then a god ; Yet am lesse then a man . I am the miserablest sowle that breathes . Antonio starts vp . Ant. S'lid , sir ye lye : by th' heart of griefe , thou lyest . I scorn 't that any wretched should suruiue , Outmounting me in that Superlatiue , Most miserable , most vnmatcht in woe : Who dare assume that , but Antonio ? Pan.

Wil t still be so ? and shall you blood-hound liue ?

An.

Haue I an arme , a heart , a sword , a sowle ?

Alb.

Were you but priuate vnto what we know

Pan. I le knowe it all ; first let 's interre the dead : Let 's dig his graue , with that shall dig the heart , Liuer , and intrals of the murderer . They strike the stage with their daggers , and the graue openeth . Ant.

Wilt sing a Dirge boy ?

Pan.

No , no song : t will be vile out of tune .

Alb.

Indeede he 's hoarce : the poore boyes voice is crackt .

Pa. Why cuz ? why shold it not be hoarce & crackt , When all the strings of natures symphony Are crackt , & iar ? why should his voice keepe tune , When ther 's no musick in the breast of man ? I le say an honest antick rime I haue ; ( Helpe me good sorrow-mates to giue him graue . ) They all helpe to carie Feliche to his graue . Death , exile , plaints , and woe , Are but mans lackies , not his foe . No mortall scapes from fortunes warre , Without a wound , at least a scarre . Many haue led these to the graue : But all shall followe , none shall saue . Bloode of my youth , rot and consume , Virtue , in dirt , doth life assume : With this ould sawe , close vp this dust ; Thrice blessed man that dyeth iust . An. The gloomie wing of night begins to stretch His lasie pinion ouer all the ayre : We must be stiffe and steddie in resolue . Let 's thus our hands , our hearts , our armes inuolue . They wreath their armes . Pan. Now sweare we by this Gordian knot of loue , By the fresh turnd vp mould that wraps my sonne ; By the deade browe of triple Hecate : Ere night shall close the lids of you bright stars , Wee le sit as heauie on Pieros heart , As Aetna doth on groning Pelorus . Ant. Thanks good old man . Wee le cast at royall chaunce . Let 's thinke a plot ; then pell mell vengeance . Exeunt , their armes wreathed . The Cornets sounde for the Acte . The dumbe showe .
ACT. V.
SCEN. I. Enter at one dore , Castilio and Forobosco , with halberts : foure Pages with torches : Luceo bare : Piero , Maria and Alberto , talking : Alberto drawes out his dagger , Maria her knife , ayming to menace the Duke . Then Galeatzo betwixt two Senators , reading a paper to them : at which , they all make semblance of loathing Piero , and knit their fists at him ; two Ladies and Nutriche : all these goe softly ouer the Stage , whilst at the other doore enters the ghost of Andrugio , who passeth by them , tossing his torch about his heade in triumph . All forsake the Stage , sauing Andrugio , who speaking , begins the Acte . And. Venit dies , tempúsque , quo reddat suis Animam squallentem sceleribus . The fist of strenuous vengeance is clutcht , And sterne Vindicta towreth vp aloft , That she may fal with a more waightie paise , And crush liues sap from out Pieros vaines . Now gins the leprous cores of vlcered sins Wheale to a heade : now is his fate growne mellow , Instant to fall into the rotten iawes Of chap-falne death . Now downe lookes prouidence , T' attend the last act of my sons reuenge . Be gratious , Obseruation , to our sceane : For now the plot vnites his scattred limbes Close in contracted bands . The Florence Prince ( Drawne by firme notice of the Dukes black deeds ) Is made a partner in conspiracie . The States of Venice are so swolne in hate Against the Duke , for his accursed deeds ( Of which they are confirm'd by some odde letters Found in dead Strotzos studie , which had past Betwixt Piero and the murdring slaue ) That they can scarce retaine from bursting foorth In plaine reuolt . O , now tryumphes my ghost ; Exclaiming , heauen 's iust ; for I shal see , The scourge of murder and impietie . Exit
SCENA SECVNDA . Balurdo from vnder the Stage . Bal.

HOE , who 's aboue there , hoe ? A murren on all Prouerbes . They say , hunger breakes thorough stone walles ; but I am as gant , as leane ribd famine : yet I can burst through no stone walles . O , now sir Gefferey , shewe thy valour , breake prison , and be hangd . Nor shall the darkest nooke of hell containe the discontented sir Balurdos ghost . Well , I am out well , I haue put off the prison to put on the rope . O poore shotten herring , what a pickle art thou in ! O hunger , how thou dominer'st in my guts ! O , for a fat leg of Ewe mutton in stewde broth ; or drunken song to feede on . I could belch rarely , for I am all winde . O colde , colde , colde , colde , colde . O poore knight , ô poore sir Gefferey ; sing like an Vnicorne , before thou dost dip thy horne in the water of death ; ô cold , ô sing , ô colde , ô poore sir Geffrey , sing , sing .

CANTAT .
SCENA TERTIA . Enter Antonio and Alberto , at seuerall doores , their rapiers drawne , in their masking attyre . Ant.

VINDICTA .

Alb.

Mellida .

Ant.

Alberto .

Alb.

Antonio .

Ant.

Hath the Duke supt ?

Alb. Yes , and tryumphant reuels mount aloft . The Duke drinkes deepe to ouerdowe his griefe . The court is rackt to pleasure , each man straines To faine a iocund eye . The Florentine Ant.

Young Galeatzo ?

Alb.

Euen he is mightie on our part . The States of Venice

Enter Pandulpho running , in masking attyre . Pan. Like high-swoln floods , driue down the muddie dammes Of pent allegeance . O , my lustie bloods , Heauen sits clapping of our enterprise . I haue beene labouring generall fauour firme , And I doe finde the citizens growne sick With swallowing the bloodie crudities Of black Pieros acts ; they faine would cast And vomit him from off their gouernement . Now is the plot of mischiefe ript wide ope : Letters are found twixt Strotzo and the Duke , So cleare apparent : yet more firmely strong By suiting circumstance ; that as I walkt Muffled , to eues-drop speech , I might obserue The grauer States-men whispering fearefully . Here one giues nods & hums , what he would speake : The rumour 's got 'mong troope of citizens , Making lowde murmur , with confused dinne : One shakes his head , and sighes ; O ill vs'd powre : Another frets , and sets his grinding teeth , Foaming with rage ; and sweares this must not be . Here one complots , and on a sodaine starts , And cries ; ô monstrous , ô deepe villanie ! All knit there nerues , and from beneath swoln brows Appeares a gloting eye of much mislike : Whilst swart Pieros lips reake steame of wine , Swallowes lust-thoughts , deuours all pleasing hopes , With strong imagination of , what not ? O , now Vindicta ; that 's the word we haue : A royall vengeance , or a royall graue . Ant.

Vindicta .

Bal.

I am acolde .

Pan.

Who 's there ? sir Geffrey ?

Ba.

A poor knight , god wot : the nose of thy knighthoode is bitten off with cold . O poore sir Geffrey , cold , cold .

Pan. What chance of fortune hath tript vp his heels , And laid him in the kennell ? ha ? Alb. I will discourse it all . Poore honest soule , Hadst thou a beuer to clasp vp thy face , Thou shouldst associate vs in masquery , And see reuenge . Ba. Nay , and you talke of reuenge , my stomack 's vp ,

For I am most tyrannically hungry . A beuer ? I haue a headpeece , a skull , a braine of proofe , I warrant yee .

Alb.

Slinke to my chamber then , and tyre thee .

Bal.

Is there a fire ?

Alb.

Yes .

Bal.

Is there a fat leg of Ewe mutton ?

Alb.

Yes .

Bal.

And a cleane shirt ?

Alb.

Yes .

Bal.

Then am I for you , most pathetically , & vnvulgarly , law . Exit

Ant.

Resolued hearts , time curtals night , opportunity shakes vs his foretop . Steel your thoughts , sharp your resolue , imbolden your spirit , grasp your swords ; alarum mischief , & with an vndanted brow , out scout the grim opposition Of most menacing perill .

Harke here , proud pomp shoots mounting tryumph vp , Borne in lowde accents to the front of Ioue . Pan. O now , he that wants sowle to kill a slaue , Let him die slaue , and rot in pesants graue . Ant. Giue me thy hand , and thine , most noble heart , Thus will wee liue , and , but thus , neuer part . Exeunt twin'd together . Cornets sound a Cynet .
SCENA QVARTA . Enter Castilio and Forobosco , two Pages with torches , Lucio bare , Piero and Maria , Galeatzo , two Senators and Nutriche . Piero to Maria . Pie . SIt close vnto my breast , heart of my loue , Aduance thy drooping eyes , Thy sonne is drownde , Rich happinesse that such a sonne is drownde . Thy husband 's deade , life of my ioyes most blest , In that the saplesse logge , that prest thy bed With an vnpleasing waight , being lifted hence , Euen I Piero , liue to warme his place . I tell you , Ladie , had you view'd vs both , With an vnpartiall eye , when first we woo'd Your maiden beauties , I had borne the prize , T is firme I had : for , faire , I ha done that Ma.

Murder .

Pie . Which he would quake to haue aduentur'd ; Thou know'st I haue . Mari.

Murdred my husband .

Pier. Borne out the shock of war , & done , what not , That valour durst . Do'st loue me fairest ? say . Ma.

As I doe hate my son , I loue thy soule .

Pie . Why then Io to Hymen , mount a loftie note : Fill red cheekt Bacchus , let Lyeus flote In burnisht gobblets . Force the plump lipt god , Skip light lauoltaes in your full sapt vaines . T is well brim full . Euen I haue glut of blood : Let quaffe carouse ; I drinke this Burdeaux wine Vnto the health of deade Andrugio , Feliche , Strotzo , and Antonios ghosts . Would I had some poyson to infuse it with ; That hauing done this honour to the dead , I might send one to giue them notice on t . I would indeere my fauour to the full . Boy , sing alowd , make heauens vault to ring With thy breaths strength . I drink . Now lowdly sing . CANTAT . The song ended , the Cornets sound a Cynet .
SCENA QVINTA . Enter Antonio , Pandulfo , and Alberto , in maskery , Balurdo , and a torchbearer . Pie . CALL Iulio hither ; where 's the little fowle ? I sawe him not to day . Here 's sport alone For him , ifaith ; for babes and fooles , I know , Relish not substance , but applaud the showe . To the conspirators as they stand in ranke for the measure . To Antonio . Gal. All blessed fortune crown your braue attempt . To Pandulpho . I haue a troope to second your attempt . To Alberto . The Venice States ioyne hearts vnto your hands . Pie . By the delights in contemplation Of comming ioyes , 't is magnificent . You grace my mariage eue with sumptuous pompe . Sound still , lowde musick . O , your breath giues grace To curious feete , that in proud measure pase . Ant. Mother , is Iulios bodie Ma. Speake not , doubt not ; all is aboue all hope . Ant. Then wil I daunce and whirle about the ayre . Me thinks I am all sowle , all heart , all spirit . Now murder shall receiue his ample merite . The measure . While the measure is dauncing , Andrugios ghost is placed betwixt the musick houses . Pie . Bring hither suckets , canded delicates . Wee le taste some sweet meats , gallants , ere we sleep . Ant. Wee le cooke your sweete meats , gallants , with tart sower sawce . And. Here will I sit , spectator of reuenge , And glad my ghost in anguish of my foe . The maskers whisper with Piero . Piero . Marry and shall ; ifaith I were too rude , If I gainesaide so ciuill fashion . The maskers pray you to forbeare the roome , Till they haue banqueted . Let it be so : No man presume to visite them , on death . The maskers whisper againe . Onely my selfe ? O , why with all my heart ▪ I le fill your consort ; here Piero sits : Come on , vnmaske , let s fall to The conspirators binde Piero , pluck out his tongue , and tryumph ouer him . Ant.

Murder and torture : no prayers , no entreats .

Pan.

Wee le spoyle your oratory . Out with his tong .

Ant. I haue 't Pandulpho : the vaines panting bleede , Trickling fresh goare about my fist . Bind fast ; so , so . And. Blest be thy hand . I taste the ioyes of heauen , Viewing my sonne tryumph in his blacke bloode . Bal.

Downe to the dungeon with him , I le dungeon with him ; I le foole you : sir Gefferey will be sir Geffrey . I le tickle you .

Ant.

Beholde , black dogge .

Pan.

Grinst thou , thou snurling curre ?

Alb.

Eate thy black liuer .

Ant. To thine anguish see A foole tryumphant in thy misery . Vex him Balurdo . Pan. He weepes : now doe I glorifie my hands , I had no vengeance , if I had no teares . Ant. Fal to , good Duke . ô these are worthlesse cares , You haue no stomack to them ; looke , looke here : Here lies a dish to feast thy fathers gorge . Here 's flesh and blood , which I am sure thou lou'st . Piero seemes to condole his sonne Pan.

Was he thy flesh , thy son , thy dearest sonne ?

Ant.

So was Andrugio my dearest father .

Pan.

So was Feliche my dearest sonne .

Enter Maria . Ma.

So was Andrugio my dearest husband .

Ant.

My father found no pittie in thy blood .

Pan.

Remorse was banisht , when thou slew'st my son .

Ma. When thou impoysoned'st my louing Lord , Exilde was pietie . An. Now , therefore , pittie , piety , remorse , Be aliens to our thoughts : grim fier-ey'd rage Possesse vs wholly . Pan. Thy son ? true : and which is my most ioy , I hope no bastard , but thy very blood Thy true begotten , most legitimate And loued issue : there 's the comfort on t . Ant.

Scum of the mud of hell .

Alb.

Slime of all filth .

Mar.

Thou most detested road .

Bal.

Thou most retort and obtuse rascall .

Ant. Thus charge we death at thee : remember hel , And let the howling murmurs of black spirits , The horrid torments of the damned Ghosts Affright thy sowle , as it descendeth downe Into the intrals of the vgly deepe . Pan. Sa , sa ; no , let him die , and die , and stil be dying , They offer to runne all at Piero , and on a sodain stop . And yet not die , till he hath di'd and di'd Ten thousand deathes in agonie of heart . An. Now pel mell ; thus the hand of heauen chokes The throate of murder . This for my fathers blood . He stabs Piero . Pan.

This for my sonne .

Alb. This for them all . And this , and this ; sinke to the heart of hell . They run all at Piero with their Rapiers . Pan.

Murder for murder , blood for blood doth yell .

Andr. T is done , and now my sowle shal sleep in rest . Sons that reuenge their fathers blood , are blest . The curtaines being drawne , Exit Andrugio .
SCENA SEXTA . Enter Galeatzo , two Senators , Luceo , Forobosco , Castilio , and Ladies . 1. Sen.

WHOSE hand presents this gory spectacle ?

Anto.

Mine .

Pan.

No : mine .

Alb.

No : mine .

Ant. I will not loose the glorie of the deede , Were all the tortures of the deepest hell Fixt to my limbs . I pearc't the monsters heart , With an vndaunted hand . Pan. By yon bright spangled front of heauen t was I : T was I sluc't out his life bloode . Alb.

Tush , to say truth , t was all .

2. Sen. Blest be you all , and may your honours liue Religiously helde sacred , euen for euer and euer . Gal. To Antonio . Thou art another Hercules to vs , In ridding huge pollution from our State . 1. Sen. Antonio , beliefe is fortified , With most inuincible approuements of much wrong , By this Piero to thee . We haue found Beadroles of mischiefe , plots of villany , Laide twixt the Duke and Strotzo : which we found Too firmely acted . 2. Sen.

Alas poore Orphant .

An. Poore ? standing tryumphant ouer Belzebub ? Hauing large interest for blood ; & yet deem'd poor ? 1. Sen. What satisfaction outward pomp can yield , Or cheefest fortunes of the Venice state , Claime freely . You are well seasond props , And will not warpe , or leane to either part , Calamity giues man a steddy heart . Ant. We are amaz'd at your benignitie : But other vowes constraine another course . Pan. We know the world , and did we know no more , Wee would not liue to know : but since constraint Of holy bands forceth vs keepe this lodge Of durts corruption , till dread power cals Our soules appearance , we will liue inclos'd In holy verge of some religious order , Most constant votaries . The curtaines are drawne , Piero departeth . Ant. First let 's cleanse our hands , Purge hearts of hatred , and intoumbe my loue : Ouer whose hearse , I le weepe away my braine In true affections teares , For her sake , here I vowe a virgine bed . She liues in me , with her my loue is deade . 2. Sen. We will attend her mournfull exequies , Conduct you to your calme sequestred life , And then Maria . Leaue vs , to meditate on misery ; To sad our thought with contemplation Of past calamities . If any aske Where liues the widdowe of the poisoned Lord ? Where lies the Orphant of a murdred father ? Where lies the father of a butchered son ? Where liues all woe ? conduct him to vs three ; The downe-cast ruines of calamitie . And. Sound dolefull tunes , a solemne hymn aduance , To close the last act of my vengeance : And when the subiect of your passion 's spent , Sing Mellida is deade , all hearts will relent , In sad condolement , at that heauie sound , Neuer more woe in lesser plot was found . And , ô , if euer time create a Muse , That to th' immortall fame of virgine faith , Dares once engage his pen to write her death , Presenting it in some black Tragedie . May it proue gratious , may his stile be deckt With freshest bloomes of purest elegance ; May it haue gentle presence , and the Sceans suckt vp By calme attention of choyce audience : And when the closing Epilogue appeares , In stead of claps , may it obtaine but teares . CANTANT . Exeunt omnes . Antonij vindictae .
FINIS .
Machine-generated castlist A07064-piero 99 A07064-antonio 88 A07064-pandulpho 52 A07064-maria 51 A07064-alberto 45 A07064-balthazar 38 A07064-andrugio 33 A07064-strotzo 27 A07064-mellida 21 A07064-lucio 10 A07064-galeatzo 7 A07064-yyyy_1 5 A07064-julio 5 A07064-yyyy_2 5 A07064-matzagente 4 A07064-forobosco 3 A07064-nutriche 2 A07064-feliche 1 A07064-nurse 1 A07064-multiple 1
Textual Notes

The textual notes below aim at making textual corrections readable in their immediate context and facilitating access to the source text. A five-digit number preceded by 'A' or 'B' represents an EEBO-TCP filenumber. A notation like "6-b-2890" means "look for EEBO page image 6 of that text, word 289 on the right side of the double-page image." That reference is followed by the corrupt reading. A black dot stands for an unidentified letter, a black square for an unidentified punctuation mark, a diamond for a missing word, and the ellipsis for a short span of undefined length. The corrected reading is displayed as a keyword in context.

〈◊〉 riuals in our May of blood , Vnto Maria , great Ferraras heire . He wan the Ladie , to my each-slight of blood , Then to be struck in heate with each' slight puffe . Giue me thy eares ; Huge faplesse Blowe hence these saplesse iestes . I tell you bloods My spirit's heauie parrs sense was steep't in horrid dreames : Three parts of night were swallow'd in the gulfe Of onsodaine Citadell was left vnmand , And so surpriz'd on sodaine by colde death . bores glewd on my beard halfe fast , enough . Gods bones , it wil not stick to fal off . hand speake : but what ? ô Loue ! By this white hande no more : reade in these teares , What crushing eno : but what ? ô Loue ! By this white hande no more : reade in these teares , What crushing 〈◊〉 departed soules , That lodge in coffin'd trunkes , which my feet presse ( If Pythagorian twhart Twil thwart your plot , disgrace your high resolue . chub-fac'tfop alike . I neuer sawe a foole leane : the chub-fac't fop Shines sleeke with full cramm'd fat Imaigin'd That knewe I but a thought of preiudice , Imagin'd 'gainst his high innobled blood , I would clofe I , is this the close of all my straines in loue ? O me most wretched bores not look a foole ifaith : a foole ? Gods bones , I scorn't with my heele . S'neaks , and twhart Feliches trunke in a winding sheete , and lay it thwart Antonios breast . vnprtiall Ladie , had you view'd vs both , With an vnpartiall eye , when first we woo'd Your maiden beauties