The Unfortunate Mother Nabbes, Thomas This text is an enriched version of the TCP digital transcription A07979 of text S113067 in the English Short Title Catalog (STC 18346). 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 Lydia Zoells 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 A07979.xml The vnfortunate mother a tragedie. Never acted; but set downe according to the intention of the author Thomas Nabbes. Nabbes, Thomas, 1605?-1645? 37 600dpi TIFF G4 page images University of Michigan, Digital Library Production Service Ann Arbor, Michigan 2004 May (TCP phase 1) 99848308 STC (2nd ed.) 18346. Greg, II, 581. 13393 A07979 2240931566

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.

 The vnfortunate mother a tragedie. Never acted; but set downe according to the intention of the author Thomas Nabbes. Unfortunate mother Unfortunate mother. Nabbes, Thomas, 1605?-1645? [64] p. Printed by I[ohn] O[kes] for Daniell Frere, and are to be sold at the signe of the Red Bull in Little Britaine, London : 1640. 1640

Mostly in verse.

Signatures: A-H4.

Reproduction of the original in the Henry E. Huntington Library and Art Gallery.

 A07979 shc The Unfortunate Mother Nabbes, Thomas Melina Yeh Lydia Zoells 1639 play tragedy shc no A07979 S113067 (STC 18346). 74 17291 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 A This text has no known defects that were recorded as gap elements at the time of transcription. 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

THE Vnfortunate Mother : A TRAGEDIE .

Never acted ; but set downe according to the intention of the Author

Thomas Nabbes .

LONDON : Printed by I. O. for Daniell Frere , and are to be sold at the Signe of the Red Bull in Little Britaine . 1640 .

TO THE RIGHT WORSHIPFVLL Richard Braithwaite ESQVIRE . Sir ,

I Have ( though boldly being a stranger ) elected you , to countenance a piece , that ( undeservedly I hope ) hath beene denied the credit which it might have gain'd from the Stage ; though I can accuse my selfe of no errour in it , more than a nice curiosity ( which not withstanding I must boast to be without president ) in the method where I have deni'd my selfe much liberty , that may be allow'd a Poet from old example , and new establisht custome . Your selfe have given many sufficient testimonies of your owne abilities and judgement , by your owne many published and unquestionable labours . In giving way and pardon to this bold act of mine , you will engage to thankefulnesse , & honour him that is ambitious to be knowne by you , and stil'd

Your honourer and humble Servant , Thomas Nabbes .
Proeme To the Reader . REader , thou wilt undoe my Poems fate If thy opinion be prejudicate : If not , then I shall neither hope nor feare , Whether thou wilt be partiall or severe . But 'cause I know not how thou art inclin'd , I le tell thee what shalt not , and what shalt find . Here are no bumbast raptures swelling high , To plucke Iove and the rest downe from the sky . Here is no sence that must by thee be scann'd , Before thou canst the meaning understand . Here is not any glorious Scene of state ; Nor Christning set out with the Lottery Plate . There 's no disguise in 't ; no false beard , that can Discover severall persons in one man . No Politician tells his plots unto Those in the Pit , and what he meanes to doe . But now me thinkes I heare some Criticke say , All these left out there 's nothing in the play . Yes ; Thou shalt find plaine words , and language cleane That Cockram needs not tell thee what they meane . Shalt find strict method in 't , and every part Severely order'd by the rules of Art . A constant Scene : the businesse it intends The two houres time of action comprehends . Read it with observation then , and be My Judge from reason ; not from tyranny . Thine Thomas Nabbes .
To The Author on this his TRAGEDY . PRinted before 't is Acted ! such a tricke As few men will judge to bee politicke . But little reason for it wee can see , Profit should grow contemptible with thee . I read it , and it hath my vote for good ; Sure 't was not by some others understood : By whom I wish action might added be , For that 's the best life of a Tragedy . Sure though they tyrant like did sentence give Upon thy Mother , she deserves to live . E. B.
To the Author on his Unfortunate MOTHER . I Doe not wonder that great Iohnsons Play Was scorn'd so by the ignorant , that day It did appeare in its most glorious shine ; And comely action grac'd each learned line . There was some reason for it : 't was above Their reason , their envy ; their applause or love : When as the wiser few did it admire , And warm'd their fancies at his genuine fire . But I commend the wisedome of thy Fate , To sell thy labours at a better rate , Then the contempt of the most squeamish age ; Or the exactest Roscij of the Stage : Which might provoke our Laureat to repine , That thine should rivall his brave Albovine . Thy Muse in this birth doth unhappy prove , In that it is abortive . Let thy love Appeare to us in getting such another , That she may boast her selfe a happy Mother . C. G.
To my friend the : Author . WEll writ ; well plotted : why not acted then ? Have th' actors judgement more then other men ? Or i' st their humour so to keepe those under , Whose bayes are knowne to be secure from thunder ? Since all the world I dare be bold will say , Folly was guide when iudgement lost its way : Yet each good wit to thee a sprig will bring , To crowne thy Muse that doth so sweetly sing : Whilst others weakenesse ordering thy sad fate , Hath made themselves like her ; Unfortunate . R. W.
The Persons . MAcario . A yong Duke of Ferrara . Infelici . Dutchesse Dowager . Corvino . Supposed Father to Spurio and Notho . Bonardo . Father to Fidelio and Amanda . Spurio . Favourite to the Duke . Notho . Generall return'd victorious . Fidelio . Friend to Spurio , and lover of Melissa . Beneventi . Friend to Fidelio . Vittorio . Two Captaines , friends to Notho . Polemici .
Melissa . Daughter to Carvino . Amanda . In love with Spurio . Cardente . An old Grone ; mother of the maides . Mutes . Ladies attendants . The Guard .

The Scene the Court of Ferrara .

THE Vnfortunate Mother . A Tragedy .
The first Act , and first Scene : The Scene being the Presence . Fidelio and Beneventi . Beneventi . OUr Mourning 's ended , and the Court agen Lookes like the Morning , when the Easterne ayre Is painted with a mixture of her blushes , And the Suns golden glory . Fid. So it should : Great Princes Death 's but like a short Eclipse Darken the Orbes they lighted , 'till another Spreads his succeeding beames : We have his sonne , As full of hope as ever promis'd state A happinesse ; and now he 's risen , we Shall gaze , and glad our selves as cheerefully In his warme favours , as in those , which time So lately dispossest us of . Ben. I shall not Court them with any flattery . Fid. His temper Is vertuous , Beneventi : He 'le admit Of no such practice ; and his minion too , The noble Spurio , such a rare example Of a good great man . Ben. That 's your partiality , Because he is your friend . Fid. Wrong not th integrity Of what is reall in me . By my hopes Of a faire memory , there 's not a charme In greatnesse hath the Magicke power to sway My reason with affection , but true merit , That bindes me . I ne're coucht unto the humours Of any great one yet ; or stil'd my selfe Th' admirer of his vertues , if they were not The true steps so his raising . Ben. Sure the Dutchesse Affects him with a more than common favour ; As if there were some secret interest That yet scapes publick knowledge . Fid. Be not jealous : T is the rude peoples vice . In our pure difference There should be nobler thoughts . Ben. You love his sister . Fid. Yes Beneventi : can my wishes covet A greater honour ? The second Scene . Enter Spurio . Ben. Here 's your friend , the favourite : He 'le pay his sisters portion in some Office Beg'd of the Duke ; and with the Dowery which His Father gives her buy himselfe sweet pleasures ; Or a new glorious ward-robe . How he stands ? As if some frownes of the new Duke dejected him , And made him feare a fall . Fid. Th' art too severe And Cynicall . This bitternesse might move Another spleene : but prethee Beneventi Doe not presume on priviledge . A friend Shares so much of my selfe , he cannot suffer , But I am sensible by a consent And an affinity of parts . Ben. I le honour him At your commands . Fid. My honour'd Lord why thus ? ( To Spurio . Spu. Fidelio , welcome to mine eyes ; thy presence , Like Sun-shine , hath illuminated my darke soule , Clouded with melancholy . Fid. What 's the cause ? You flow in honours . Spu. Oh Fidelio , Be not too curious : shouldst thou know my sufferings , Thy Physicke cannot cure them . Beneventi ! Fid. My friend , my Lord . Spu. Then mine . My friends must be ( To Beneventi . Like Chaines , the first linke leads on his dependants . Instruct me how , then use me . Ben. I shall study A gratefull service . Fid. Pray doe not conceale What 's your disturbance . By communicating You 'le lessen something of the suffering , In making me partaker . Spur. I shall adde to 't . We shall be like two neighbour buildings , when A flame proceeding from the one hath seiz'd The others roofe , it makes the burning greater . Friend let me suffer , be thou free . Fid. Report , Perhaps , hath multiply'd , and rumour 's growne Pregnant with issue , that your noble brother Wants the successe we hop't for . Spu. Ha! my Brother ! My brothers vertue doth command his fortune ; The later waites upon the first , as slaves Act their Directors wills . No my Fidelio , A certaine knowledge newly 's come to Court Of his sure victory , and his arrivall Is suddenly expected , that it may Crowne this dayes ( yet unperfect ) glory . Friend , My joyes transport me , that I share in blood With one so worthy : But the peace that waites Vpon his Conquest cannot stay the warre The third Scene . Flourish . Enter Macario , Infelice , Corvino , Melissa , Ladies . That is within me . Fid. Here 's the Duke and Dutchesse , Compose your selfe . Maca. Griefe , Madam , should be like A short Sea-storme ; ' soon as a calmer ayre Hath smooth'd the rugged waters , there 's not seene The least impression which the formers rage Made on their even surface . I am still Your sonne in duty , as in blood ; And though I share not in this out ward act of sorrow For my dead Father ( since the mourning ceremonies Of Court should be prescrib'd to stricter limits Of time , than where th' affaires and men are private ) His memory presents it selfe as fresh To every apprehension that assailes me , As when his living precepts taught me how To be a Prince , by more than the election Of Fortune and my Birth : His vertues shall Be ( as I hope ) my soules inheritance , Well as his dignities : I le be directed By their examples . Inf. Deare sonne ( for my love Bids me make use of Natures priviledge , And leave out other titles ) I have joyes Greater within me , than those weake ones , which Onely take life from the expression , And quickly dye , the object once remov'd . Yet give me leave to temper them with mixture Of some sad thoughts , lest their excesse may grow Into a danger , and a little taste Of contrarieties will whet the sence With a fresh appetite , preventing surfeits . My comforts swell , like a full tide , to see Thy growing state propt up with such advantages , As show it unto all mens expectations Int 's future flourishing : A Counsaile grave And wise as ever order'd policy From the best unresisted principles : Men , whose designes set downe the acts successe As positive as Oracles . Thy Spurio , Thy almost selfe ; a man so rich in soule , And all her best dependancies , he gives Honour to greatnesse , by the noblest using Of a Court-favourites power , that ever yet Deserv'd a record . Next to him , thy Champion , His valiant brother ; one , upon whose Plumes Victory danceth as they farme the ayre , Whispering the voyce of Tryumph . Thou art guarded With such a generall loyalty in Subjects , That if thou slept'st amongst the multitude , Even when some rage possest them , undesended With any Armes but that , th' imperfect slumber Need not be broken with a feare . Macario , These teares are teares of joy : and yet I cannot Chuse but reflect upon those times that gave me Th' embraces of thy Noble Father . Mac. Madam , The losse you suffer is repair'd in me ; I le owne no honours , nor delights of earth , But what my duty shall conferre on you : Making your present greatnesse equall to The former without discontinuance : I will call nothing mine , more than a title , And ceremonious out-side . Cor. Would you 'ld please To take your seat , and give an audience To what I shall deliver . Mac. Speake Corvino . Your Oratory hath power to draw attention , What e're the subject be . Cor. 'T is that that makes Language harmonious . 'T is your selfe , great sir , Both your owne private and the publicke good Must be my Theame . In part it likewise hath Relation unto your eternity , For Princes never dye that have faire issue . Your marriage sir . Maca. I 'me yet too yong , Corvino . Cor. Y' are old in judgement , and in all the parts That make a Prince up absolute . Too yong ! Some carefull Parents ( and such providence Might be a good example ) in the child-hood Of their lov'd sonnes , have made election Of hopefull beauties , that they might be sure To keepe their names alive in their posterity . You are mature enough : now therefore know , Your dying Father ( to whose memory We owe a reverence ) when his fainting Spirits Labourd for helpe from all their weakned Organs , He breath'd these last words : Let my Sonne ( quoth he ) Marry betimes ; and if he makes his choyce 'Mongst his owne subjects , let him place Melissa In his first thoughts . Ben. Where is your honour now ? ( To Fidelio privately . Cor. I doe not urge it as she is my daughter , Through an ambition that affects such greatnesse : Sir , my desires are humble ; and on those A safety waites , whose comfort I le not lose For all the others flatteries . Mac. Blush not Lady . If Fortune hath design'd you for a Princesse , To Melissa . The favour 's worth the courting with a smile , And cheerefull aspect , so 't transport you not From a becomming duty . Mel. Gracious Sir , My temper can admit of no desires ( Kneeles . Suit not with my condition . If it be Decreed by providence , I can obey , But never wish . Mac. Rise lovely maid . ( Riseth . Fid. My Lord , ( To Spurio in private . I 'me lost to all the happinesse that ever My hopes shew'd me a way to . Spu. Have no feares : She 's constant ; and I le soone divert the Duke , Even here in publicke . Mac. Faire Melissa take Thy Princes grant . Spu. Of what sir ? Doe not mocke Your reason into error . Y' are a Prince And every act of yours concernes a state , Not your meere person onely : what you doe Must therefore deeply be consider'd on , Before your will allow it execution . Princes should wed with Princesse : where there is An innate Majesty on both sides , that Well mixt , makes up an issue fit for rule , And the successive dignities . Besides , A State is strengthned : by alliance much : It may enlarge your Territories to , By times kind working . We have neighbour Princes , That gladly would bestow their Female heires Upon your highnesse ; and by such a choyse , Your subjects with your selfe might gaine a happinesse . Mac. You , Spurio , counsaile this ? Spu. He cannot owne A duty worth your cherishing with favour , That will not urge it home . Mac. She is your sister ; And 't would be some additions to your honours ( Though they are many which your merits challenge ) To see your sister grac't with the high Title Of our great Dutchesse . Spu. 'T would be disadvantage To all that 's good within me : For although No policy preserves my Actions Free from suspicion , but their owne integrity , And that hath shew'd them cleare without abuse Of favour or of power ; yet if I were The brother of the Dutchesse , I should hardly Scape envy , where I now have love . Mac. Brave spirit . Thy vertue moves me . Ben. How his father frownes ? To Fidelio privately . He 's mov'd another way . Spu. If you esteeme it A vertue in me to suppresse desires That beare me higher than the moderate pitch , Cherish it still , and doe not with addition Of favours make me lose th' opinion Of being good in my prosperities : Such flatteries may tempt me to aspire ; My flight holds even yet . Mac. My dearest Spurio , How thou appear'st in this humility ! Nor doe I think it any counterfeit To whet my yet cold appetite . Her forme , Though it be full of active fire , enough To move the dullest earth , wherein a soule Hath made its habitation , I not doate on : Nor will it prejudice your worth Metissa , In that your Prince refuseth you : Affection Must not guide us , but counsaile . Mel. You have done A justice unto me and your owne honour : I shall be happy when my Virgin freedome May make an equall choise . Mac. That choise shall want No honour we can give it . And deare Madam ( To Infelice . Your selfe have youth enough and beauty yet T' admit a second fellowship : Elect Even where you please , our duty shall allow it : Vertue and judgement guide you . Infe. I am happy in my unhappinesse , that time hath left me A husband still ; thy Fathers memory Preserv'd in thee my Son : I know no widow-hood Whilst wedded unto that . Mac. Yet if hereafter You would at any time conferre such honour , Let it be Lord Corvinos . Spu. Ha! my father ! To Fidelio priuately . Nam'd he not him Fidelio ? Corv. To my selfe You shew me my defects , by the faire light Of your too gracious and too great opinion ; All the desert that I can have , must be Of your creating . Flourish . Mac. These events shall be Exeunt Mac. Infe. Ladyes , the rest remaining . Referr'd to time and providence Corv. Sonne Spurio . Ben. Now will he schoole his Son for being honest . 'T is an ambitious Lord , yet strives to hide it To Fidelio whispering . With politique hypocrisie . Corv. Your Child-hood Grew up to riper yeares in such obedience , As promis'd duty to me ; how you should Decline that goodnesse from the hopes conceiv'd Strikes me with wonder . Sure you were instructed , And taught to know men by the study of Their difference ; and in what one may excell Anothers being : Greatnesse is no vice That you should shun it , and your Sisters honours Would neither have impair'd yours , nor mine : 'T is not so dangerous caring to preserve Aboundance , as to labour with necessity ; And though it might be reall temperance in you To shun so great additions , yet it shew'd Little obedience that you contradicted What I propos'd . Spu. Sir 't was from your example , You urg'd it not as an ambition ; If your desires were humble , mine were so : I preferre safety sir as well as you , Before the flattering dangers that are incident To th' other . Coru. You have mis-interpreted A modest feare , an absolute deniall . Besides ; how unbecomming 't is t' accept A prest consent with greedinesse ; it argues Desire without desert : but since you are So nicely morall , by my selfe I will Advance my selfe . The Dutchesse bed will be An honour I ne're thought of . Spu. How sir ! you Marry the Dutchesse ? Coru. Hath your greatnesse taught you To practise scorne on me ? or are you swolne With an unnaturall envy ? I shall hatch Practices 'bove your reach ; and teach your sister T' obey as well as love : 't is not your humour But my command that must dispose of her : Nor will I aske your leave to have the Dutchesse . Be what you are , and keepe your Princes love : Y' have almost lost a fathers . Exit . Ben. How he stands ? to Fidelio . Some wanton lobby Lady sure hath laid The issue of her pleasures to his charge ; For which the old man chid him . Fid. I much feare Part of the cause is mine . Ben. Two hands in a dish , The right Court Ordinary . Fid. Prethee bee More serious . Why agen dejected thus ? Spu. I have newes for thee Fidelio . Bene. Pay the Post . Spu. Thou must not have my Sister . Fid. Ha ? 't is horrour . Ben. Then 't is not honour . Spu. She must be dispos'd of . Fid. How ? for the Duke ? Spu. My father so resolves it . Fid. Then I have lost — Ben. Iust nothing . Fid. Thou prophan'st A worth , that bids my justice punish thee . Ben. She 's nothing worth , nor to the purpose , if You have her not . Fid. If there be more impart it . Spu. I love the Dutchesse . Fid. So doe I your Sister . Ben. And I love both . Spv. How is that Beneventi ? Love both ? Ben. Yes , both alike ; that is , love neither . Spu. My rivall is my father . Fid. Mine my Soveraigne . Ben. Then if I be your second against either , Let the Axe make me first a head lesse monster ; And Surgeons next in publicke search my parts , To find where treason lay and patricide . Spu. What Fates are we two subject to ? Ben. The worse If you attempt to better them . Spu. Fidelio , We will consult a little ; I have had Grounds for strong hopes , I 'le not be flatter'd by them ; But worke with policy . There is within me A warre 'twixt love and duty : one must be Destroy'd to quit and set the other free . Exeunt .
The Second Act and first Scene . The Scene being the Dutchesse Chamber . A Table &c. Infelice , Amanda , Melissa and Cardente . Infe. AManda you looke sickly , you were wont To weare a lovely blush upon your cheeke , Such as no Art can counterfeit : your eyes Were the Court Stars , at which the amorous gallants Lighted their flames : who but Amanda fam'd For beauty , and a livelinesse of spirit ; Your colour 's earthy now , your mind unactive : Nor can such accidents without a cause Shew their effects . I wish it were communicated . Unto our knowledge . Card. Madam , it is nothing But eating Sallets , Oate-meale , and greene fruits , She hath got the loving Chamber-maids disease : On my virginity that 's it , she must Be steel'd to th' purpose . Infe. I beleeve they are Some passions rather . Card. Certainely that 's it : Madam she reades Arcadiaes , Amorettas ; And will discourse this Ladies love and that So sadly , that the faces in the hangings Seeme to have sence and weepe : I 'me sure I cannot Forbeare when I remember it . Am. 'T is strange , Your reverend Ladiship hath so much moysture ; Sure you preserv'd your teares , and wasted none When you were yong , to th' end you might expresse Your selfe now tender-hearted : What sweet Courtier But would esteeme those teares and make them bracelets ? Their toughnesse will endure the stringing . Infe. So , so ; Be lightsome still . Card. And jeere my age , that hath Given you counsell ; which observ'd , would keepe Your heart from aking , and your lunges from sighes : You ne're would cry aye me , that love , but cannot Be lov'd agen . Infe. Is she in love Cardente ? Card. That 's it upon my Maiden-head . Ama. An oath , Of great antiquity ; the Cavaliers Us'd it before the battaile of Lepanto . Card. Us'd what ? my Maiden-head ? Meli. You would have it constred In that best sence . Card. Y' are very witty Ladies , To play on my decaies ; I could have done As well as you : but now have graver thoughts . Am. The Grave is that best fits them . Card. Well Amanda , You may agen want counsaile ; when you doe I wish some cough may seize me , or the want Of my fore teeth make my speech so imperfect , You may not understand it . Meli. Very likely ; You need not wish it . Infe. They are wagges Cardente , But for your mirth Amanda 't is affected ; Your soule I doe believe retaines its sadnesse , Reveale it , and i 'le aide thee in the cure . Ama. Madam I gladly would give satisfaction Unto your graces curiosity , So that it might not prejudice faire truth : To say I 'me sicke , were a dissimulation : If well , you 'le not believe it . Card. How ? you well ? When your complexion 's like the queene of Spades ; Or like a painting wrought in the first colour ; Or like a wither'd blossome , or a — Ama. Hold Good Lady Simile ; Or like your Monkey When he wants Spiders ; the poore beast lookes scurvily , And not unlike your Ladiship . Card. Well , well ; I still must beare with youth . Ama. If a distemper , Or a disease that 's crept into my blood Renders me now lesse beautifull , then lately The flatteries of some esteem'd me ; must it Conclude my mind is sicke ? Infe. Enough Amanda , Yet still I must suspect ; when y' are alone To Card. privately . Perhaps she will reveale it . Exit . Card. That 's it Madame , We maids will chat so prettily alone ; You did not well Amanda to abuse me Before the Dutchesse : other Ladies would not Have serv'd me so , and there are few in Court But would make use of what you slight ; my counsell : I have bin verst in things that might advantage Your restitution . Amb. Unto what good Lady ? Card. Your health , your mind ; your wits . Ama. Why doth your reverence Thinke I am mad ? Card. A little loving frenzie . Mel. Delude her importunity with some slight , To Amanda privately . Shee 'le be a trouble else . Card. Pray' thinke not Ladies This age of mine hath not attain'd some knowledge From observation . There have bin few passages In Court which I have not bin privy too . Ladies have falne and risen ; and their timpanies Have bin cur'd with as secret carriage , As e're was practis'd by a suburbe Mid-wife : I have had plots to save a Ladies honour . Ama. She hath given me an occasion . To Melissa privately . Mel. Ply it home , Wee 'le raise some mirth from melancholy . Card. Come , You must not be reserv'd . Ama. Might I presume You would be secret . Card. How ? suspect Amanda ? By my virginity Mel. I doe believe That Oath will ne're be broken . Card. Why Melissa ? I have bin knowne and knowne these fifty yeares , My age hath seene Lords turne cast Ladies of Unto their Pages , and preferment follow ; I have knowne secrets too , and kept them secret Without any Oath . Is 't comming yet ? Ama. 'T is almost At my tongues end : but shame — Card. A figge for shame . Ama. Perhaps 't is something cannot be exprest In modest Language . Card. Then I must interpret , And now I see that 's it . Mel. That ! what Cardente ? Card. Yes , yes ; 't is so : your eye , your noses sharpenesse : And here 's a signe . Mel. Of Virgo I dare sweare . Card. Of Gemini : Y' are subject to strange qualmes , Are you not Lady ? dare you weare a buske ? Are you not quicke ? me thinks it kicks on both sides : You have bin at it to some purpose . Ama. Shee Interprets right Melissa . Card. I can doe it . She 's not the first at Court hath had a clap , And let it be my charge to save her honour ; Even the Dutchesse selfe — Mel. How 's that Cardente ? Card. Tut I know secrets . Ama. And you 'le reveale them . How have I fool'd my selfe into a misery , Prevention cannot free me from ? committing A secret of such consequence to one Will make my shame the pastime of the Court By her discovery . Card. No such matter Lady , Doubt not a close conveyance ; yet I wish You had reveal'd it sooner : Physicke then Might have done much . Ama. You 'l ayde me then Cardente In the concealement ? Card. I 'le not tell the Dutchesse . Mel. But I will . Card. What sweet Lady ? Mel. What a creature Warmes her selfe in her bosome , a Court Bawde ; A cloth of tissue centinell . Ama. An old cole Rak't up in counterfeited sanctity : Thou credulous piece of wickednesse , didst thinke If any wanton forwardnesse had led me To such a sin as loosenesse , I would suffer The knowledge of 't passe from me ? and especially To one suspected for a wicked agent In those base practises , but now discover'd . Card. What will you baite me Ladies ? Mel. Yes , and worry thee ; Thou mother of the maids ! th' art fitter farre To be the Madam regent of the stewes , Nay wee 'le dissect thee . Am. And before the Dutchesse Lay open all . Card. Nay then farewell sweet Ladies . Exit . Mel. She 's gone , and we are free , and now Amanda Let loose thy thoughts ; for all are here imprison'd Thou shalt command releasement . Am. Oh Melissa I love thy brother , and my virgin flame Growes every houre more violent . Mel. Oh Amanda I love thy brother , and my virgin flame Growes every houre more violent . Am. You mocke me With ecchoing backe my words . Mel. I speake a truth Although with blushes : If your anguish grow From that sweet passion , how our even states Hang in the ballance ? Am. All my hopes are lost , In that the Dutchesse favours him so much ; My jealousies can point no other end out , Then their uniting in that fellowship My wishes covet . Mel. Have not I like doubts ? The Duke rivalls Fidelio ; and my father Urgeth unwilling honours , which my feares Dare not attempt to reach at . I had rather Sleepe in the sweet embraces of thy brother , Then be advanc'd to greatnesse that will make mee The object of mens envy . 2 Scene . Enter Infelice , Corvino , Car lente . Am. Here 's the Dutchesse , Inf. Wee 'l heare you straight Corvino . Fye Amanda , Have all your seeming vertues lost themselves In one foule staine ? Am. Madam let me prevent Th' abusing of your faith : my honour suffers In nothing but a counterfeit of that , With which I mockt her curiosity , That else refus'd all satisfaction ; And in 't betray'd herselfe to the discovery Of such an inclination , as to thinke on 't Renewes the blushes which you say my cheekes So late have lost . Card. Nay , Madam , I made shew Of any thing that might discover her : Told her I had beene privy to such cases , And many a Ladyes fall . Inf. Enough Cardente . But let not such things be your sport hereafter . Jealousie is a spirit which once rais'd , Will hardly be commanded downe agen ; And honour is a substance too too nice To play withall Am. I dare expose my selfe To th' tryall of her jury . Inf. Urge no more ; You are believ'd Amanda . Now my Lord ( To Corvino . We give you hearing . Cor. Madam , I would whisper The secrets of my soule . Infe. Withdraw Cardente . ( The Ladyes retire . Corv. Madam , if ought appeare an errour in me , Condemne it not with too severe a sentence , Till I have pleaded my excuse . I love you : The generall graces of your minde and person , In this my setled age hath rais'd high flames : Which cherisht by your favour will preserve me , Or quite consume me , if they waste themselves In your disdaine . The disproportion We weare in outward titles , makes me feare You will refuse consent : and yet I hope ( Not urging the Dukes favour ) you 'le allow My suit consideration , and your answer . Inf. My Lord Corvino you have honour'd mee In your opinion ; putting such a glosse On my defects , that I appeare more worthy Then really I am . My age is subject To those decayes , that render the unfit For amorous delights . Corv. Your beauty , Madam , Is in that freshnesse yet , that were I warm'd In your faire bosome , all the frost that hangs Vpon these haires would quickly be dissolv'd , And a new spring of livelinesse and strength Quicken this cold and passive earth that holds , An Icy soule within it . You 'ld restore me To my best youth agen . Infe. This love hath taught you The long neglected practice of your Court-ship : Forbeare it , good my Lord , my griefes are yet Vnapt for flattery . Corv. Then give me leave To speake in plainnesse my desires , that are You would admit me to your sweet embraces In lawfull fellowship . You 'ld satisfie My longing passions , and your sonnes request , And pay those services that I have done you ; Which some might but my selfe dare not presume To call desert . Infe. Your faithfull servines Have beene rewarded with degrees of honour , And I expect your gratitude . I never Discover'd such ambition in your temper , Which alwaies seem'd to levell its just aime At faire equality . Then good my Lord Consider your attempts , and how they make Your vertues much suspected . Corv. If you dare Call it a pride that I seek such addition , Know there 's no substance now depends upon Your empty title which can make a difference , But I will reconcile it by my merit , I am not so inferiour to be check't ; Nor weake in power , but that I can revenge A scorne that is dishonourable . Infe. Doe not Adde to your ills Corvino . This had sence As if it did imply you would not owe A Duty to me now : or that you meant Some treacherous discovery . Take heede Of base ingratitude , 't wil slaine your fame ( which good men call their life ) with such a Leprosie , As time can never cleanse it from . Corv. I then Must count my selfe refus'd . Infe. Yes for a husband . I must prepare for heaven : Nor shall I ever Admit of new desires whilst the lov'd memory Of my dead Lord presents it selfe . Corv. Your Pardon . Onely you may consider , 't was his will Melissa should be Dutchesse . Infe. Not without The free election of my sonne , who now Leaves it to time and counsaile . Thus you still Shew your ambition . Dearest Spurio welcome , The third Seene Enter Spurio . Let us goe take the ayre . Corv. Your graces leave To have some conference with him . Infe. When 't is ended Attend us in the garden . Exeunt Infe. Card. Aman. Corv. Stay Melissa Sonne I would urge your duty to reveale What 't is disturbes you . I by observation Have noted odde expressions in your lookes , Your words , and actions , since the late Dukes death , That argue there 's within some strange distemper Of your best parts , counsaile must rectifie . I challenge from my interest the will And power to give it . Spu. How can I discover What I yet know no ? you must satisfie Your selfe , and your owne suppositions , Even by yourselfe . If you have fram'd conjectures From any outward Characters that may Expresse an inward perturbation , Propose and i 'se reveale it . Corv. You are in love . Spu. I have desires , I must confesse , but temper them With a discreet respect to their best end : Nor doe I suffer any to flame out In violent passions . Corv. But they are directed To one peculiar object ; that 's the Dutchesse , Is it not so ? Spu. My breeding and Religion Permit me not to lye : sir 't is a truth ; And you may call it vertuous if you please : But duty which you challenge from me checks it . I neither dare nor will plead any right Where you are interested . Corv. I assigne it all , She hath o're throwne my cause with such a scorne As burnes me into rage ; witnesse ye powers That guide our not to be resisted fates , How farre she 's banisht from my thoughts . Spu. You have sir Breath'd a new soule of comfort into me ; I le freely now solicite for my selfe , And try successe . Corv. 'T will show of youthfull rashnesse , Can you ground any hopes ? Spu. From circumstance I can ; but none with which I will be flatter'd : The honours which she hath conferr'd upon me Are Arguments she loves me ; her salutes Are alwaies deare or dearest . Corv. Yet you must not . Marry this Dutches . Spu. How , will you oppose it ? You then are swolne with an unnaturall envy . Corv. No more , I must dispose you . Spu. I 'le obey . But yet I beg you sir temper your power With mild command , and deepe consideration : Thinke on the Dutchesse . Corv. Thinke upon Melissa . Spu. What of my sister sir ? Corv. She is a beauty That might invite desire , and crowne the bed Of any Prince with happinesse . Looke on her , And make her thy election . Spu. Mine ! for what ? Corv. A Wife . Spu. Defend yee better influences , No such incestuous dreame could e're possesse My wanton'st , slumber . Cor. 'T is not so incestuous As that thy inconsideratnesse attempted : Resolve to take her , and by all my hopes Of blest eternity , I will not onely Justifie that for lawfull , but salute thee Ferrara's lawfull Duke . Spu. What riddle 's this ? Give it solution . Corv. First resolve to be What I have promis'd . Exit . Spu. Good sir leave me not Confounded with amazement : are not you My Father sir ? or who must owne me ? Sister , Is there ought in your knowledge that may satisfie My doubtfull thoughts ? must I not call you sister ? Or what 's that greater incest I would have Committed ? Can the Dutchesse be my mother ? An Aunt 's lesse then a sister ? Mel. Dearest brother , My knowledge ownes no secret which I would not As freely make you master of as wish My selfe a happinesse : I must confesse My mother oft hath told me that you were not The issue of her Wombe . Spu. There 's halfe the riddle 4 Scene . Enter Fidelio , Beneventi . Unfoulded yet . Fid. My Lord your valiant brother This instant is arriv'd , t' enrich the Court With his full glories : all men court his victory With such a praise , it staines his manly cheekes With modest blushes . He expects your visit . Spu. I know no brother . Fid. How my Lord ? your vertue . Will suffer by suspition if 'y expresse Your selfe or proud or envious , Spu. Melissa , I cannot satisfie your fathers Will , Though all were clear'd that darkes the reasons of it : Be still Fidelios . Exit . Ben. What the divell ayles him ? His passions are as various as his cloaths ; He shifts them daily : onely keepes one fashion , And one sad garbe . Fid. Are you acquainted with Any events that have relation Unto your brothers melancholy ? Mel. Some I am , But urge not their discovery . Fid. I obey What ever you command ; and hope my services Will shortly be rewarded . Mel. Take th' assurance Of my resolves and promise . Ben. Trifle not With court-ship now : let 's thinke on bouncing complements To bid the Souldiers welcome . Fid. To the presence , There is their entertainment . We shall see What different things Courtiers and Souldiers be . Exeunt .
The third Act and first Scene . The Scene being the presence . Bonardo , Cardente and Fidelio . Non. DId she reveal 't her selfe Candente to you ? Or else do you conclude it from some circumstance ? In such a cause I would not have credulity Mocke it selfe into errour . Card. 'T was my Lord Her owne confession ; yet before the Dutchesse She doth pretend 't was onely an intent To mock my curiosity : but I feare It is too sad a truth . Bon. To me most sad , Mine age growes fast upon me ; and to have A staine throwne now upon our House , by one So eminent in all appearancies Of good , it makes my wishes hast to meete The sweet peace of my grave : but yet Cardente I am not easie to believe . Card. Nor I . There may be other causes why a Lady Of her pure constitution should be subject To qualmes and puling . Bon. Is she not in love ? Card. That may be it my Lord , and if you could Discover who the man is . Bon. Would that helpe To cleare suspition ? Card. All would straight appear In its full truth ; her staine , or innocence ; For thus my Lord . I know the inclinations Of all the Gallants ; which are Goats , which Eunuches : Now if she doth love any forward youth , One that will thrust his Knife into the meate Before he hath said grace ( you can apply it ) T is so ; if not , so . Fid. My Italian nature Begins to breake her prison , and grow violent ; I 'le force her sir to tell me . Bon. Vse no threats , But mild perswasions ; such as may become The place : and urge them home before the presence Fills with more number . Here she is . 2 Scene . Enter Amanda . Card. Pray Heaven He doe not stab her . Fid. Sister are y' in health ? Am. I know not brother , would you 'd aske a Doctor , A skilfull one that hath prov'd more men mortall , Then a corrupted Vintage , or French Duells : If such a learned mans inspection can Tell the disease which many thinke I have , But am not sensible thereof my selfe . Fid. You slight my question . Am. Sure it doth deserve No better answer . How doe I appeare To every curious eye that undertakes The reading of my inside ? sure that Lady Hath made you jealous . Fid. There 's a staine Amanda Throwne on you by suspition , on your honour ; Nothing but blood , or a faire satisfaction Can wash it off . Am. I thought some such fine thing Had mockt your credulous weaknes . Blush to thinke You owne so low a soule as to suspect Her whom your love calls sister ; though detraction Spake with a hundred tongues , and mutter'd circumstance To make it probable , Fid. Your confidence Carries the greater show of guilt . Am. Of guilt ! Should you present all tortures tyranny Did e're invent : I have no feares can make me Belie mine innocence , though it might free me From all their suffering . Fid. This doth shew more like The violence of a distemper'd passion , Than will to satisfie . 'T was never yet Read in the story of our Ancestors , Any least blemish stuck upon our house . And if you have transgrest , the knowledge of it Will poynt us out a way to just revenge , Or to an honourable recompence ; And so preserve our yet unsullyed fames Cleare to posterity . Am. This circumvention Is of so strange and intricate a nature , I know not how to free my selfe , but by Mine owne just testimony . Brother know Your best prepar'd devotions are not purer Then my worst thoughts ; their ends being alwayes noble When I have had desires . Fid. Not to have some , Indeed were more than wonder : such a Lady As you are sister , pamper'd with the fulnesse Of Court delights , not to elect some one Prefer'd in her esteeme , were such a paradox , Not all your learning can maintaine . Am. Suppose I should confesse to whom mine are directed ; He 's one that you dare not suspect , much lesse Accuse of such a sinne that is so farre from His vertuous inclination . Fid. I am glad Your love can give him such a Character . To know him might advance your desires , Provided they be honourable . Am. Brother You seeme to hedge me in with studdied cunning . But I can give my selfe a liberty By naming him you 'ld know . I doe affect Your friend Lord Spurio . Fid. He the man hath done it ? Am. Done what ? your jealousie is weake , and grounded Upon too nice a feare ; and onely propt With her slight information . Fid. Stay , stay Sister ; There 's something more : Did not you once pretend You had a powerfull interest in his Sister That might command me a successe with her ? Am. And you interpret it . Fid. Nothing good Sister , But one thing for another . Am. Hug your errour , And cherish it untill it sting your bosome : Your threats shall not enforce another answer Though the place had no priviledge . Fid. Enough Good Sister ; I am satisfi'd . Am. Will you sir ( To Bonardo . Cherish my duty with a faith ? Bon. Of what ? Am. What that bad woman hath accus'd me of , Is false as any fabulous Deity Bono . and Fidelio whisper . Ascrib'd to wicked mortall . Card. Nay good Lady , If any grounded feare hath rais'd suspition , Truth ought to be discover'd ; if it were , We then would make provision of some Villa , Some pretty Country house , under pretence That ayr 's most wholsome for you . Am. Would thou wert Without that noysefull instrument of speech ; Or all thy hearers deafe . But that her vertues Carry their perfect lustre , I should almost Suspect the Dutchesse , for conferring favour Upon so vile a woman . Exit . Bon. Practice it . ( To Fidelio . 3 Scene . Enter Polemici , Vittorio , A Lady and Beneventi . T will be a perfect tryall . Fid. Here 's Vittorio , And brave Polemici , that are return'd With the triumphing Notho . Bon. I embrace yee ; Y' are welcome home to peace , Salute . Vit. We thanke your Lord-ship . Ben. 'T is downe right complement ; we Souldiers Are sparing of our words my Lord : blowes chiefly Are our discourse . Pole . We Courtiers Beneventi Can talke , but seldome fight . Bon. That hit you home . To Beneventi . Ben. How dare you offer to salute the Ladies , Before y' have shifted shirts ? sure your Campe Launderesse Never perfum'd your linnen . Pole . Had you bin There Beneventi , 't would have made your linnen Soone want perfuming . Card. Souldiers doe not use To Beneventi . Other perfumes than match and Gun-powder . Ben. Were you converted into it Cardente , You 'ld sweeten their Buffe-jerkins . Lady . Were I Gun-powder I 'ld blow you up . Pole . You take your servants part . Ben. You serve a Lady ! Ladies should serve you For your good service to the Duke and State : Oh the mens heads that you cut off , Polemici ! Pole . The Maiden-heads you purchast in our absence ! Many a Suburbe agent is inricht by 't ; Though to the losse of your owne state and conscience : Ingeniously confesse your chiefe imployment . Ben. We feigne our selves as vertuous as the Duke , And are as chast at Court as wither'd Eunuches : But when we are at liberty abroad , Ease and high feeding cannot hold out long : Then to 't like Monkeyes Captaine . Sure your selves Doe piddle now and then with Suttlers wives ; And are content to praise their tann'd complexions For most rich beauties : whilst we Courtiers Ravish delights from lipps that tast of Nectar , And thinke our selves in Heaven . Pole . Whilst we Souldiers After a tedious match , are forst to make The earth our bed without a Pillow , sheets , Or silver warming-pan ; start from our sleepe At every sound the ayres light motion makes , Thinking it an alarme : Returne from fight Smear'd o're with blood and sweat , and savourly Take the refreshment of a troubled water ; Whose muddy streames our Horses would scarce tast But for necessity : fast till our guts Contract themselves so close they will scarce hold The full digestion of one Larke . Ben. Good Captaine No more of this discourse ; it mortifies me : But now the Wars are ended , you 'l turne Courtier ! 'T is quickly learnt . Pole . You have instructed me , Dissemble first an imitation Of the Dukes vertues ; feed high , and be lazie ; Next leacherous : is 't not so ? Ben. A great proficient , You 'l quickly take Degrees . Pole . In the last Schoole We shall out-strip you Courtiers ; for observe If any one of you should rivall us , And dare to intercept our pleasures , we Can beate you Beneventi , marke me , beate you ; And sure the Duke would give us pensions for it , To keepe your Goat-ships honest . Lady . Witty Souldier , He fits you at all weapons . Ben. Yours , the tongue ; But that it wants some of your womans length : Hee 'ld hit you otherwise . 4 Scene . Flourish Enter Macario , Infelice , Notho , Spurio , Corvino , Amanda , Melissa & Ladies Bon. Peace thus playes with war , And makes it pastime . Fid. Here 's the noble Conquerour . Mac. Welcome agen into our bosome Souldier . Wee 'd have you now leave action , and apply Your ready will to entertaine and manage The honours we intend you , as rewards Due to your valour and successe : you have Setled our peace at home by the subversion Of all our neighbouring enemies , and now 'T is fit you share a full proportion Of all you labour'd for , that we in ease And softnesse might securely please our senses ; And know no sufferings more then what are incident To every prince , our cares : those lesson'd too By our grave Counsailes industry . I wish You would move something from your owne desires , That granted might be valewed by your selfe : We should bee free . Not. Ambition never toucht me . If I have done an act hath gain'd allowance In popular opinion , let not flattery Court it with too much praise . These ought to share ; And every common souldier well as I : I but directed what they executed . Let your rewards sir , smile upon their wants , For sure our victory brought much more honour Then profit home : nor could I thinke it lesse Than tyranny to slave men being conquer'd , And force them buy their liberty ; though in pollicy And custome 't is allow'd both safe and honourable . Cherish their valour sir , and the example Will ( when your need requires it ) arme the hearts Of others with like forwardnesse . Mac. Wee give The spoiles to be distributed , and pension To every souldier ; and unto thy selfe — I know not what : considerate judgements must . Allow the gift a worth before I offer it . Embrace you two whilst I embrace yee both . Why doth my Spurio frowne upon his brother ? Can his cleare soule give entertainment to Neglect or envy ? such a glorious paire To suffer an Ecclipse . Spu. Your victory And person both are welcome . Not. Both must serve you . Inf. Deare valiant Notho , now you have put off The rough abilliments of War , pray' weare These ornaments for my sake . Gives him jewells . Not. They are favours . An Easterne Monarch might be proud of Madam : A Mine could not have made your servant richer In 's owne esteeme . Card. Trust me the Souldier speakes Excellent Court-ship Ladies . Those rich jewells Will be yours shortly ; and I would advise you Not to refuse them upon any tearmes When they are offer'd . Inf. Your deserts require Give Vitt. and Polem . Iewells . Some due acknowledgement . Pole . These Madam are Bounties above them . Mac. Doe not you my Lord To Corvino . Conceive strange joyes , to see so faire an issue Make your age happy ? Corv. 'T is a happinesse For which I owe Heaven thankes . Ben. What thinke you Captaine ? To Polemici . You seldome found such spoiles in a py'd Knap-sack . Doe you know how to use them ? Pole . Not as you doe , Like Children ; play with them . Ben. You 'l pawne them rather ? Pole . That I beleeve you use . Mac. Wee 'l have some revells , 'T is fit that Souldiers sometimes should have rest , And tast the Courts delights . Ben. You 'l find there 's difference Betwixt a Courtier and a Souldier Captaine . Pole . There 's much . Ben. How much ? Pole . As much as is betwixt A good sword and a Fiddle-sticke . Ben. But how Doe you apply them ? Pole . That unto my selfe I best know how to use . Mac. Wee 'l first thanke Heaven , And then wee 'l see some maskery . This day Wee 'l honour with solemnities . Exeunt . Spu. With me sir ? Flourish , Spu. Not. Fid. Ben. Vitto . and Polemici remaining . Not. Brother . Spu. Forget that name ; it must be lost To both our memories . Not. Sure mine preserves not The least impression of an injury I ever did you , that might justly challenge Th' acquaintance of that Title . Others looke Upon my fortune with respectfull smiles ; You either scorne or envy it . Spu. I doe neither ; But there are secrets which my knowledge cannot Yet comprehend , till time makes more discoveries : If it appeare then you are not my brother , Say not it was my fault . Not. I would you give me A fuller satisfaction . Spu. When I can I will not be reserv'd . Not. I know not what Your words imply , unlesse you 'll call me bastard ; And that hath danger in 't . No priviledge Of nature , or respects unto the greatnesse Favour hath rais'd you to — Spu. Hee 's here can satisfie . 5 Scene . Enter Corvino . Cor. Will you yet wedde Melissa ? Spu. Never sir ; I would you 'ld cleare my doubts . Cor. Oh never sir , Till you performe that act . Spu. My ignorance And innocence shall then preserve me safe ; There may be danger in the knowledge of it : Hence forth I le not be curious . Exeunt Spurio , Fide . Beneventi . Not. Sir , my duty That taught me humble knees , and an obedience Is somewhat stagger'd ; something hath begot A jealousie within me , that I ought not Pay them to you : but still my vertuous reason Doth fight against that sin . Cor. What meane you Notho ? Not. My brother sir , or Spurio ( for the name Of brother he refuseth ) sayes we are not The issue of one blood . Cor. It was a folly , And inconsiderate rashnesse to betray Himselfe to so much hazard . Not. Sir , the knowledge Would settle my disturbances , and make Agen that duty perfect , which yet doubts To whom it owes it selfe . Cor. Those words of his Might be interpreted ; and I confesse My wanton youth had much unlawfull issue : Of which perhaps he 's one . Not. My lawfulnesse Had then first priviledge to take exception : I must not now owne him . Cor. Yes ; for my love Is equall to you both . Not. In that you are Unjust to the deserts of my dead mother ; And th' Honour'd family whence she deriv'd Her blood and vertues . Cor. It becomes not you To taxe my partiall humour , since your selfe Is equally unlawfull . Not. You have aw'd me , 'T was not my sin ; and thus my duty beggs Kneeles . The publicke knowledge may not be my shame . Cor. That shall not staine , thy fame staines not thy conscience : And tell me Notho , dar'st be great ? Not. Ile be What fortune or my reason promps me to , If warranted for lawfull . Cor. Dar'st be Duke ? Not. Forbid it loyalty . Cor. 'T is in my power To make thee justly so . Not. If 't be my right , There 's no attempt that can have danger in 't Enough to fright me . Cor. Shall 't attempt no danger : The prosecution shall be politicke And safe . But first thou must resolve to doe What I command thee . Not. Speake it . Cor. Wed Melissa . Not. Did ever father yet command his Children To be incestious ! is your reason perfect ? This shewes distraction . Cor. All depends upon it ; And Heaven knowes 't is lawfull : Therefore be Suddaine in thy resolves . Exit . Not. What fit hath seaz'd him ? Pole . The Ladies eyes have shot some wanton fire Into his heart : my Lord . Not. Polemici I have heard wonders , and your bosomes shall Partake the secret , so you 'l keepe it safe : 'T is of high consequence . Pole . They are the same Safe Closets you have trusted . Not. You 'ld not envy me If I were Duke . Pole . We should not sure unlesse It made you proud . Not. But dare your valours aide me In the designe ? Pole . Why what disloyall divell Hath put these thoughts into you ? have we sav'd Our throates from cutting by the enemy To feele the Hang-mans Axe ? why how dare you Cherish such vaine ambition ? if you should Marry the Dutchesse , she must have no sonne first : And then 't is doubtfull whether the election Will be conferr'd on you . There are more worthies That hold as good opinion in the state . Not. But say it be my rig Pole . I never studied Your Genealogy so much , to find How there might be relation ; if there 's any Let it appeare . Not. You shall know more hereafter ; Strange misteries in fortunes hidden lye , Cannot be judg'd of by a common eye . Exeunt .
The Fourth Act and first Scene . The Scene being the Gallery . Spurio and Fidelio . Fid. 'T Is an unkindnesse thus to be reserv'd , And hide the causes of your discontent : The priviledge of friendship should be larger ; And not confin'd to any weake respects That bound its limits . I should not conceale My secret'st sinnes from you , but for the scandall . Spu. Fidelio , I am lost in such a mist Of doubts and errour , all my reasons faculties Cannot instruct my knowledge how to find A way that leades to truth , Fid. If any counsell My weake abilities can ayde you with May be thought usefull — Spu. Vrge it not Fidelio ; To know and not to remedy increaseth The suffering more . Fid. My love would not interpret Neglect or jealousie to be the cause Of these expressions ; if you doe suspect it , I then may ground a feare you have declin'd Your wonted purity : and through the guilt Of some foule act makes shame o're sway your reason , You doe enforce your blushing soule to be Th' unwilling prison of so vile an evill You dare not give it liberty . Spu. This is Such an extreame Fidelio , I should rather Admit of flattery then to be taxt thus . Time and your neerenesse to me might have taught Your knowledge , something by observing me , And how my courses tended : There was never The coursenesse in my humour , that it pleas'd me To heare my selfe commended : but the life Of honour being wounded by detraction , Or any false aspersion , 't were a sin Equall to guilt should I neglect to cure it By any testimony ; though it forc'd me To Praise my selfe , above all the degrees Of moderation : Therefore good Fidelio Neither be partiall to me , nor let weakenesse Interpret any private act of mine From common rumour : such an even temper Would make our friendship lasting . Fid. I my Lord Thinke you so farre from being vitious , Your scruples scarce allow those vertues in you A merit , which to us might be examples . Spu. I meant you no such priviledge . Fid. Beleeve it , I will not flatter you ; for sure you have Some easie faults , that will admit th' excuse Of frailty : such as love . Spu. Is Love a sinne then ? Fid. Yes , when it burnes with a corrupted flame ; And lights desire to what is sensuall onely , Without regard of ought that makes our difference The most refin'd and perfect in its nature : Beasts have their lust . Spu. I almost understand you , But sure you dare not thinke me forward that way ; Your errour were not friendly : neither is there A Lady so neglected : she would court My shallow worth , or yeeld if she were courted . Fid. There is that Magick in your masculine graces , Th' have charm'd the beauty of the Court to love you : And 't is arriv'd my knowledge . Spu. What 's that beauty ? Instruct my ignorance . Fid. Amanda sir , And though she be my sister , I doe give her No attribute , fame and the generall voyce Confirme ? not to her . Spu. With that name thou hast Charm'd me Fidelio throughly , and recall'd My apoplexi'd thoughts to their first life . Mine eyes were blinded with the Dutchesse so , I could not see that happinesse which now I wish next to my eternity . But give me Assurance good Fidelio . Fid. That were vainenesse ; And now I must confesse you had great cause To be disturb'd : professe love to the Dutchesse , When you had given Amanda such deepe earnest . Spu. What earnest meane you ? yet I ne're saluted Her eares with a request ; or urg'd the grant Of what you say , her inclination Would freely give me . Fid. Why should you expresse This nice unwillingnesse to be discover'd ? The knowledge of 't as yet is limited To a small number , and the memory Of her dishonour will be quickly lost In a faire recompence . Spu. There 's nothing cleere To me in this darke mistery , but that The beauty you call sister is a Whore : Is it not so ? Fid. Your selfe can best interpret , And yet me thinks another name would sound More Court-like ; and not have halfe so much offensive : For though she have the staine , I know she holds That noblenesse of spirit , none but such a one As your full selfe could ever win her to it ; And a faire satisfaction vow'd withall : Which sure you will performe . Spu. Thou art a villaine ; Did my election from a world of men Single thee out to be so much my selfe ; The union of our soules would not admit Of a division , but that interchange And custome taught us read each others thoughts ? And can that soule of thine expresse it selfe Subject , so easily to be corrupted With jealousie and errour ? Then let Moralifts Fable hence forth no empty name of friendship , Nor boast there 's such a secret : I shall never Weare thee more here . Fid. This is no satisfaction , I dare beleeve your innocence ; if you Dare urge it solemnly , and thereby give it A confirmation . Spu. That my pitty cannot Deny thy weakenesse : witnesse Heaven — Fid. Enough . You shall not sweare ; I credit it ; and my penitence ( Kneeles . Humbles me for your pardon . Spu. Rise and take it : But I would know upon what circumstance This jealousie was grounded . Fid. Th' information Came from Cardente , and her owne acknowledgement Of her desires to you . But she shall dye , Her shame must not out live her . Spu. How Fidelio ! Mocke not thy selfe out of eternity , By such a sin will like wise render thee A scorne to memory : her innocence May suffer falsely . 'T is not supposition , But proofe that must condemne her ; sure there cannot Be lodg'd in such a frame as is Amandas A thought but noblenesse : I 'ld soone take A wither'd Anchoresse into my suspect , As her sweet purity . Fid. You 'd have her live then ! Spu. Why not ? to make me happy . Fid. Marry her , And to 't agen ; 'till that confirmes all lawfull , I must forbid more pleasure . Spu. What words fall From thy distraction ? dar'st renew thy guilt By a worse second jealousie ? Fid. You 'l be Her Champion too ? this zeale of yours confirmes That truth which was but doubt . Spu. I shall forget The place hath any priviledge ; but come sir , Since my cleere protestations will not satisfie , Wee 'l argue it with these . 2 Scene . Enter Amanda , & Melissa meeting them . Fid. There will not be Much Fallacy . Offer to goe . Am. Is your beleefe good brother Yet rectifi'd ? Fid. I must not owne thee : hence . Spu. Since she is heere — Fid. This trifling smells of cowardise . Spu. Away then . Offer to goe agen . Am. What 's the meaning ? two such friends To be divided ! Mel. By that interest To Fidelio . My love doth challenge , let us know the motives To this strange anger . Fid. Pardon me Melissa , I must ( though willingly I would not doe it ) Forget your vertues . Am. Let our teares divert To Spurio . Your rash and violent purpose : trust me sir , Unlesse a noble cause hath fir'd your spirits — Spu. 'T is yours Amanda . Am. Then I understand it ; And challenge it my priviledge to order Your reconciliation . Brother , know Your errour hath dishonour'd you so much , That till you have cald backe to your opinion My fame and inocence , I must not owne you . To raise a scandall of high consequence From such an empty and perverse suspition And not to cleere it with the satisfaction Both of protests and testimonie , argues A soule lesse noble than the generous blood Of our brave Ancestors successively Inherited ; producing actions , The subject of large stories . Let Melissae Witnesse th' intent ; a humorous counterfeit , To mocke Cardendte curiosity Into an apt discovery of her selfe And wicked inclinations ; that we knowing them Our care might shun her courses . Fid. This Amanda Beleev'd would bring me peace agen . Mel. Beleeve it , For 't is a truth cleere as the innocence Of babes : after the holy ceremony Hath purg'd th' originall staine . Fid. I am confirm'd ; And aske agen your pardon ! Yours Amanda I doe presume upon . Am. Your noble anger Hath such a faire excuse , that I must thanke you . Your errour onely was your fault , and that My pitty pardons freely . Spu. This hath likewise Restor'd me to new hopes : and faire Amanda , If your esteeme hath added any worth To my defects that make them seeme perfections , Such as may please your chast and free desires ; If you 'l possesse me with the happinesse Of blessed union , 't is the onely one That I would covet . Am. Let my blushes speake A maids consent , and in them you may read My thoughts direction that made you their object ; Mixing themselves with feares , hopes , jealousies ; And all that 's incident to earnest love , May it be crown'd with such a faire event , 'T will make your hand-maid happy . Spu. 'T will but be A mutuall exchange . Fid. I hope our loves To Melissa . Are growne so ripe , the fasting of our joyes Will not be long protracted . 3 Scene . Enter Corvino , Bonardo , and Cardente . Mel. Even when It pleaseth the high providence . Card. My Lord Observe how they are pair'd . Doubtlesse all 's cleere : And sure hee 'l make amends . Bon. My Lord Corvino , If your consent will ratifie — Corv. You need not Urge it agen . Have you observ'd Cardente Ought in Melissas inclination ( Corvino & Card whisper . Towards Fidelio ? Card. That 's it ; she is strucke With the blind Archer . Spu. From a cloud of errour To Bonardo . A light is broken that hath made new day In our darke treasons , and directed me To that which yeelds my being here a happinesse , 'Bove any forme I could prescribe my wishes : My knowledge learnt it from th' imperfect motives To your suspition ; without which discovery My ignorance had lost it : but it cannot Be full till crown'd with your consent , Bon. You have it ; And I as freely pardon both your faults : Your frailty doth excuse them . Spu. You 'l returne To your first errour ; let not a new jealousie Stagger our faire proceedings : We have climb'd Halfe of our height already : and to fall From such bright hopes . Am. As you would cherish duty Or other vertues in me , cleere the mist That hangs before your reason ; you shall see The whitenesse of my innocence : confirme it With your beliefes ( for truth is onely valued As 't is receiv'd ) I shall meet his embraces With all my Virgin sweets , like evening ayre Without a cloud ; when it but onely blusheth To kisse the Sun at parting . Spu. 'T is receiv'd As positive a truth as e're came from A Sybills mouth . Bon. It hath restor'd thee likewise To my now rectifi'd opinion : Blessings dwell with you . Fid. Please you Lord Corvino To Corvino , With your consent to perfect what 's begun So fairely here ; and make our union adde Something to this dayes glory . Corv. Shee Fidelio Wants much to meet your full deserts ; your love Perhaps she may : when I have order'd her With some becomming counsells . Bon. Hee 's my sonne , And shall inherite honours and possessions , With vertues to their best dependances ; Grant that you like of the election , And the solemnities of both their marriages To morrowes sun shall gaze at . Corv. Pray my Lord Give me a fathers priviledge to prepare her With some fit precepts ; then few minutes shall Resolve it . Bon. Wee 'l expect . Exeunt Bonar . Spur. Am. Fide . Corv. Melissa , you Have made my age conceive as many hopes As ever father did to make him happy . Kill not their issue by a rash neglect , And voluntary losse of that which perfect And order'd judgements doe call happinesse ; Above th' enjoying of a course desire ; Confin'd to a meane person too : if greatnesse Were not a relative to all that 's good , And glorious in the generall speculation Of things that doe affect us , not in sence , But the bright part of reason ; emulous man Would not through danger mannage actions So full of wonder , nor imploy his faculties In high designes : but like a heavy lumpe That onely by its weight moves to its center , And there sleepes , so should we : leave no ? so much As the Record of any memorable And brave atchievement , for a monument That such men once had being . To be Dutchesse Will not impaire your vertues ; they would take More luster from the title . Now Melissa I 'ld have you quench that low and common flame That burnes towards Fidelio ; and embrace Those high desires I point you to : my pollicy Hath order'd the successe , and your obedience By your subjecting of it to my will , Shall crowne you with full blessings . Mel. Honour'd Sir , The duty which I owe you , and which ought not Be mention'd without reverence , humbles me Kneeles , Thus to expresse it . If I could new mould My frame and temper fit for such great honours . I should embrace them with the entertainement Of my most ready will . My constitution Is of too course a matter to receive Such nice impressions . Those whom Heaven hath Ordain'd for Princes , are of purer earth Then common mortals sure ; and by instinct Both know , and order their high difference , To make it fit for greatnesse . If I were The Dutchesse sir , my thoughts would still betray Me to my selfe ; and such imperfect actions Receive their ordering from my weake abilities , They 'ld render me a scorne to those , that otherwise Would pay me reverence . Corv. Your unwillingnesse Playes with illusions that are vaine and empty . In what are you defective but your will , That 's regulated by a childish humour ? Let your consideration weigh th' events Are incident to both : when you are Dutchesse You 'l be above the danger of your fortune ; And awe that weake necessity to which The other may be subject . Card. Sure your father Saith right sweet Lady ; there 's much difference Betwixt the Dutchesse and a subjects wife ; Betwixt a chaire of State , and a thrum'd couch ; A Ward robe that would furnish a Iewes Lumbre , And one embroydred petty-coate for Sundaies ; And that perhaps not paid for too . Be wise , Obey your father Lady and be Dutchesse : 'T will be the better choice . Mel. Content abounds In riches , when the owners of cramb'd Treasuries Unsatisfi'd are beggers . Sir , the Duke Having refus'd me , how can I affect him ? And where love is enforc'd . Card. Why there 's your priviledge , Great Ladies ought not love : their husbands more Then in a just proportion of state . Corv. Melissa , I doe find your inclination : And though my zeale intended your advancement Which you your selfe refuse ; yet my : indulgence Tyes up mine anger : onely I must wish you Consider throughly . Mel. Sir , my duty shall not Give way to any act without your liking ; Although I have desires I can restraine them From satisfaction . Exit . Corv. Would Fidelio were not His love , a love diverts her . Card. There are meanes ; You understand my Lord : but yet I doe not advise you to it . Corv. Thou art wise Cardente , And canst be secret too ; for thou and I Know something hidden to the world : 'T is better Give her some Philter , that may raise in her A flame towards the Duke . Card. But is there vertue in any such ? Corv. My youth hath made experience , And I am furnisht with that is powerfull : I beare it still about me . Card. Good my Lord Impart it to my use ; I faine would have A Husband yet . Cor. Why thou maist have Fidelio , A yong and handsome Lord . It chiefly workes Upon such disproportions ; share it justly , You both must take it ; for in that consists The magick Sympathy . 4 Scene . Enter Polemici , and Vittorio . Card. I le to my Closet And pray , then love . Exit . Cor. Polemici , where left you My valiant Sonne ? Pole . Notho ! hee 's in the presence . Corv. When you returne , desire him meet me in The Grove behind the Garden . Pole . I scarce thinke Hee 'l owne you when hee 's Duke : Vittorio , What think'st thou of this riddle ? Vitt. 'T is a hard one , he to be Duke and lawfull ! Pole . He beginnes To forme himselfe fit for 't : he takes survey Of all that he supposeth shortly must Bow to his humour : tell 's me hee 'l new mould The State , and we shall be advanc'd . Vitt. To th' Gallowes . Pole . I doe not like such raysing ; let 's be honest ; And though we cannot make a full discovery Of this so close and intricate proceeding , Wee 'l intimate some feares that may betray him To jealousie and care ; that watchfull eyes Observing him ; if ought should be attempted , It may be stifled by prevention in the first birth . Vitt. His favours yet deserve We should preserve him . Pole . Yes , I would preserve him . But chiefly from the dangers incident To such a vaine ambition , into which Hee 's flatter'd by his father : but upon What ground , I doe not thinke the divell ownes A perfect knowledge : Sure he cannot thinke There 's power in his successe to make him popular , And leade the multitude in their disorder To wish an innovation first , then practise it . Vitt. He saith it is his right . Pole . But where 's the testimony ? Hell on these darke devises . Well , let 's be Like valiant Souldiers in the Reare , that dare Goe on , whilst the front stands to be their bulwarke : But breaches made therein to shew them danger , In flight they put their safety . Let 's observe , And adde more to our knowledge ; then resolve : He that persues an act that is attended With doubtfull issues , for the meanes had need Of policy and force to make it speed . Exeunt .
Act. 5. First Scene . The Scene the Grove . Corvino and Notho . Corv. THis preparation of your high resolves I must allow with wonder : sure you had Some revelation of the weighty secret ; Or else instinct hath taught your knowledge more Then a weake judgement could conclude from doubts ; And those bare circumstances I have us'd T' instruct you by . Not. But if Ferrara must Owne me her Duke , what progresse yet is order'd For my establishment ? great actions ought not Want equall meanes : and sure my single force May not encounter such an opposition As I shall meet . To challenge it my right And not mainetaine it , renders me the lawes : I would not pay my life for a distracted Unwarrantable action . If it may Be pleaded or with force , or testimony , I am above all feares . Corv. I have a faction Which with your party will make up a power Of strength enough : but there is no such need . Melissa joyn'd unto you will be more Than any numerous Army of resolv'd And faithfull spirits : she alone shall cleere All that is yet in mists . Not. If you 'l take from me The scruples that I have about its lawfulnesse , I le court her to prevaile . Corv. You may command her , Confirme it with an Oath as y' are a Prince ; And as I hope the ends of my ambition Will meet successe , you shall be satisfi'd . Not. By all the vertuall powers that make an Oath Sacred , I vow onely to wedde Melissa ; Provided it be lawfull . Corv. Then accept My duty sir , that owes subjection Duely to none but you . It is your birth-right That shall preferre you 'fore this yong usurper ; And thus his knee to whom yours oft hath bended Kneeles . Humbles it selfe for pardon , that my brest So long conceal'd what should make many happy . Not. I then am elder sonne to the late Duke ! And onely yours suppos'd : I must acknowledge A large debt to you for my education , Which answer'd my high birth . But can this have Cleere confirmation ? Corv. As the brightest ayre The Sun illumines . Not. I am then a Prince , And you my onely Subject : For I know not Who else will pay obedience to me . Corv. All Will follow my example ; for the rumour As it growes bigger will incense the multitude : From whom your fortunes and deserts have won Both love and admiration . Fury then Runnes them into a lumpe , or monstrous forme With many heads , that carry their mad body Reelingly forward , where they find resistance Growing more violent : when to prevent The mischievous effects of such an uproare : The cause is askt and knowne ; expostulated : And your right prov'd by me , the generall voyce Salutes you Duke . And shortly after you May call Melissa Dutches . Not. I have heard She doth affect Fidelio , And unlesse She be diverted — . Corv. By this time Fidelio Hath not his being , Not. Have you kild him then ? Cor. Both politickly 't is and safely order'd , Cardente poisons both him and her selfe . Not. Could you have such a conscience ? Car. Nice religion Awes not a Politician . They both stood Betwixt me and my ends . Not. You have confest Your selfe a murderer , 't was a bad act ; And you have added to it : the discovery Hath made me guilty by the knowledge of it . I cannot but with horrour now embrace Her love , for which his innocence hath suffer'd : Nor will I marry her . Cor. Dare you then be Unjust to your owne honour ? and neglect That which you call religion , we but forme ? Not. You have instructed me : all other vertues Depend on Iustice ; she alone is perfect Without addition in her selfe . A Prince Cannot deserv'dly weare the royall title , That orders not it , nor is order'd by it . Justice with tyranny may be allow'd Rather than partiality , for that Emboldens sin ; the other makes it feare . If this day I should not be just ( the first Of my uncertaine government ) a blessing Would not preserve it ; for the bad example Would teach bad subjects ( such as thou ) to be Presumptious in their errours . Cor. What proceeding Intends this ambage ? Not. Such a sin as thine Is not allow'd the plea of an excuse . Then since thou stand'st convicted by thy selfe , I thus pronounce thy sentence : thou shalt dye . Corv. Your selfe is not immortall Prince . Not. By th' hand Of Justice . Cor. Who 's the executioner ? Not. Thy selfe , I have no other to command . Doe 't with that instrument . Throwes him his Dagger . Cor. 'T is a command Becomes a Prince ; and chiefly such a one As makes it scruple to preserve his rayser , Or to connive at a slight petty sin ; Whose execution hath confirm'd his title : 'T is a lesse sin to kill thee than my selfe . Not. Honour must yeeld then to necessity : I le doe 't my selfe . My sword that hath bin just Drawes . In war , in Peace shall be so . Therefore pray ; And if the apprehension of thy death Presents thy guilty conscience with an horrour , Meete it with holy thoughts , that thy repentance May beare thy best part upwards . I am loath To kill thy soule . Corv. What strange conceits are these Transport your reason from its use ? pray kill me , And when y' have done it , call my silent ashes To tell the people how you are their Prince . What then shall give my cold tongue motion To justifie your right ? Not. Iust Hevens want not Miraculous meanes . My Justice is too slow , And flies with lazie wings . Therefore be suddaine ; I cannot give thy preparations A longer time . Cor. Put up your sword , and take Throwes backe the Dagger . Your Hang-mans toole agen . Put up I say , And call your duty backe . Son I have plaid My trialls into danger , heare the reason . Observing in thee haughtinesse of spirit , Forward to noble action , that was alwaies Attended with successe , I fear'd ambition Might tempt thy vertue , therefore order'd this To prove its truth . Not. You cannot trifle me Into new errour . I have shaken off That loose and vulgar out-side I was drest in By ignorance ; but now I know my selfe To be a Prince : 'T is I that have discover'd Ambition in thee , and thy practises ; To make thy daughter Dutchesse . But I play Too much with Justice . Take thy punishment For murder . Offers to kill him . 2 Scene . Enter Spurio . drawes . Spu. 'T is not yet but in attempt . Corv. Y' have sav'd my life . Exit . Nnt. Why dost thou interpose ? Rash man , I doe command thee fetch him backe , And be his executioner . Art fixt ? Obey thy Prince with motion , or I 'le turne My rage on thee . Spu. What madnesse hath possest thee ? Not. I 'me like to have good subjects , I must beate them Into obedience : thinke not on defence For that 's as vaine as if with nothing arm'd But empty aire , thou mett'st a Thunder-bolt . A sword thus order'd by the hand of Majesty Will make its way . Spu. Traytor call backe that breath , Fight . Which as it doth divide the circling ayre , Poysons it more than fenns from whence the Sun Exhales infectious vapours . Not. Dar'st resist Thy Soveraignes Will and power ? Spu. Disloyall villaine , Thy words have made the cause inspire such valour Into my hand and sword , such a just rage Fight . To punish thee — Not. It hath a point , I feele it ; My royall blood doth wast . Spu. 'T is course and sordid . Not. I faile not yet , my spirits still have force I thinke that reacht you Fight . Spu. That reacht you agen . The cause assures me victory . Not. 'T is enough , W' are both prov'd mortall . Falis . Spu. Farewell dearest Master : I dye thy loyall Champion . Falls . 3 Scene . Ent. Corv. Infelice . Inf. What 's this horrour Presents it selfe ? Is 't reall or illusive ? My Spurio , Notho , dead ! let my soule flight To meet yours in the peacefull shades of rest . Sownes , Corv. Madam looke up , suffer not your faint spirits Thus to retire unto their inmost cells : Let them dilate their vigour , and at once Make all your sences usefull . This sad accident If well consider'd is not of such consequence , That it should shew how much our passions can Out doe our reason . Inf. Give me more fresh ayre , That I may draw it freely in t' increase My sighes ; not to preserve the breath that keepes The different parts united . What sad influence Order'd this Tragick action ? or what motives Could teach them to direct it to this end ? This most unnaturall end — Corv. Good Madam cease Your exclamations ; this may be apply'd To better use from a consideration . Your honour is secur'd , your shame prevented : It was a mercy in high providence Would you receive it so . Inf. How weake is counsaile To desperate frailty ? 't is not your Art can Perswade me to a comfort , being lost To all that should revive it . In these two Were lodg'd such a proportion of My living joyes , in their cold earth remaines All my hopes dead and frozen , unto which They whilst they liv'd gave life . If there were vertue In teares to warme your numb'd and bloodlesse limbes , Into new life and motion , I would bath them With a large flood : and when the springs were dry Wish my selfe chang'd into a weeping marble To be your monument . Corv. Be not transported Into such vaine expressions . Infe. Vaine advise , My griefes are like to Walls resisting Darts , They 'l beate thy counsailes backe to thy owne danger . Corvino you were surely false , and taught The youths this way to ruine . One more sigh Will cracke my hearts weake cordage , and the vessell Wanting its helpes , yeeld to the onely guidance Of the distracted waves till it be swallow'd . I thought my patience could have met with cheerefulnesse , Any crosse storme of fortune ; this hath kild it . Forgive me Heaven , translate my penitent And reconcil'd soule to a better mansion Then that she 's lodg'd in now . Divide my heart You two . Corvino beare my dying blessings Unto Macario — Oh — Dyes . Corv. Will you then dye ? And so prevent me ? for I did not meane You should survive them , though I order'd not Their deaths ; retaine your sences yet a little . Live but to heare me , and I will relate All that my knowledge ownes concerning it ; And the new policies that I have built Upon these happy accidents ; for hitherto Fortune hath bin my Matchiaveile , and brought , Events about I never practis'd for . Fidelio and Cardente are remov'd : One stood betwixt my high ends , and the other Begot continuall feare of a new danger By her discovery . I shall be perfect now In all things but revenge upon your scorne , And the neglect of my deservings ; will you not Stay then to heare me ? Farewell . 4 Scene . Ent. Mac. Pole . Vitt. Bon. Ben. Am. Mel. Guard . Mac. What 's this horrour ? The Scene presents a Tragedy ; our Guard . Our mother dead , and our two friends made livelesse By one another ? griefe seale up mine eyes With an eternall darkenesse . Am. Most unhappy Kneeling by Spurio . Amanda , in the losse of all thy wishes ; Wee 'le not be long divided , if my griefes Meete not too stubborne and perverse resistance From the soft heart I gave to thee . Mac. Remove The bodies decently , and then support me : Exit Guard with the Bodyes , the Ladyes following My spirits faint . Corvino we would have The best account you can of this sad businesse , To which you cannot chuse but have relation , Considering the persons and the manner ; Speake your best knowledge . Corv. I have now no language But teares to be interpreted , and they Are characters of inward sorrow onely ; Cannot expresse more then their propper meaning , And whence they take their forme . Sir I am lost To all my hopes of being , they being gone On which it did depend , my sonnes ; in whom I had a lasting name , and should have liv'd Unto succeeding times : now it will vanish Like Clouds dissolv'd , to be forgotten . Mac. Know you What were the motives to their difference , That fir'd such anger in them ? Corv. The remembrance Of that calls up more griefe . Your mother sir . The inconsiderate youths interpreted Her favours to be love , and rivalling Each other in desire , their passions met By fury , joyn'd together , and begot This sad effect : which when she understood , And saw the dire events that had proceeded From her so cleere intentions through mistaking , Compassion broke her heart . This sir is all My sad soule knowes . Mac. I would it ne're had bin , Or I to know it . Corv. Shortly I shall pay Nature her last debt , for my weakened age Cannot resist these killing sorrowes long . And my poore services desire your griefe Not to be deafe to one request ; that is , You 'ld take my daughter to your care , and be A father to her : or — Mac. We will respect her . Pole . My information sir was truth . There is More mistery to be unfoulded yet ; Times daughter will appeare , although she blush To shew her nakednesse . 5 Scene . Enter Fidelio and Cardente . Card. Oh a Confessor . Fid. Confesse who 't was that order'd this vile practise , Or my just anger shall allay it selfe With that infected blood thou hast , before The poyson workes more . Card. It was Lord Corvino . Mac. What 's that ? Fid. She would have given poison to me , Of which her selfe had tane before : but providence Order'd it that my jealousie deferr'd it , 'Till it appear'd to worke on her with violence : And so I was preserv'd . Card. But I am pepper'd ; There 's something in my conscience . Mac. Utter it , 'T will make thy peace with heaven ; what is 't Cardente ? Card. Spurio , and Notho were your naturall brothers , Got by your father , on your mother sir . In his first Dutchesse dayes she being barren . I and Corvino had the secret carriage Of all the businesse . He hath poison'd me . I never shall love Philters more . Dyes . Mac. Corvino , Here 's a discovery renders you so vile , That new suspitions spring from 't : Neither can we Trust our owne safety where a murderer Sits neere our favour . Tortures therefore shall Force from you what they can . Cor. Your Justice might Be temper'd with more mercy , and from reason . Since the great secret is reveal'd which I Kept guarded with my best resolves , as being The Closet of your mothers honour , now I will stand up and Justifie my actions . First for the death of your unlawfull brothers T was accidentall , not by me determin'd . And hath secur'd your state that might have suffer'd A great disturbance by the knowledge of it : Which by your Mothers and Cardentes death Had found prevention being then restrain'd Onely to me . For you Fidelio , You intercepted all my studied meanes Vnto my daughters honour . But intents Proceeding not to act may challenge pardon . What tortures then doe I deserve ? Mac. Just death . Fid. That sentence kills me too . Melissa ! Mac. Take him away ; provide for 's execution . This day I le see it done ; 't will set more fairely . Lust and ambition are two meanes of evils , That practis'd by their owners make them divells .
FINIS .
Machine-generated castlist A07979-corvino 79 A07979-spurio 77 A07979-fidelio 69 A07979-cardente 49 A07979-notho 47 A07979-amanda 43 A07979-beneventi 36 A07979-macario 29 A07979-melissa 26 A07979-polemici 25 A07979-infelichi 25 A07979-bonardo 14 A07979-vittorio 5 A07979-lady 2 A07979-ambo 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.

rea●●● was some reason for it : 'twas above Their reason , their envy ; their applause or love : He ' le His temper Is vertuous , Beneventi : He'le admit Of no such practice ; and his minion ▪ Beneventi : can my wishes covet A greater honour ? ▪ Shares so much of my selfe , he cannot suffer , But I am sensible by a consent And an affinity ▪ You'le lessen something of the suffering , In making me partaker . withissue multiply'd , and rumour's growne Pregnant with issue , that your noble brother Wants the ●●●●g gives Honour to greatnesse , by the noblest using Of a Court-favourites power , that ever far●●e upon whose Plumes Victory danceth as they farme the ayre , Whispering the voyce of Tryumph ▪ esteeme those teares and make them bracelets ? Their toughnesse will endure the stringing o th An oath , Of great antiquity ; the Cavaliers Us'd U●ge Urge no more ; You are believ'd Amanda . Now a morous those decayes , that render the unfit For amorous delights . Dutehesse consider , 'twas his will Melissa should be Dutchesse . confert'd be flatter'd : The honours which she hath conferr'd upon me Are Arguments she loves me ; her thrughts knowledge that may satisfie My doubtfull thoughts ? must I not call you sister ? Or what's ineest call you sister ? Or what's that greater incest I would have Committed ? Can the Dutchesse straightappeare All would straight appear In its full truth ; her staine , hund red calls sister ; though detraction Spake with a hundred tongues , and mutter'd circumstance To make post esterity preserve our yet unsullyed fames Cleare to posterity . corferring should almost Suspect the Dutchesse , for conferring favour Upon so vile a woman . Laund resse Before y'have shifted shirts ? sure your Campe Launderesse Never perfum'd your linnen . h●t wants some of your womans length : Hee'ld hit you otherwise . praife , let not flattery Court it with too much praise . These ought to share ; And every common acqu●intance did you , that might justly challenge Th' acquaintance of that Title . Others looke Upon my fortune ▪ And innocence shall then preserve me safe ; There may be danger in the knowledge of 〈…〉 I be What fortune or my reason promps me to o● 〈…〉 be What fortune or my reason promps me to , If warranted for promp●s 〈…〉 be What fortune or my reason promps me to , If warranted for lawfull . ▪ All depends upon it ; And Heaven knowes 'tis lawfull : Therefore ▪ To th' Gallowes . ▪ into which Hee's flatter'd by his father : but upon What ground , I doe not thinke thoustand'st allow'd the plea of an excuse . Then since thou stand'st convicted by thy selfe , I thus slies Miraculous meanes . My Justice is too slow , And flies with lazie wings . Therefore be suddaine