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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
THE CARDINAL, by JAMES SHIRLEY Poet Analysis Poet's Biography
First Line: The cardinal! 'cause we express no scene
Last Line: And if you like his play, 'tis as well he knew it.
Subject(s): Tragedy
First Line: The cardinal! 'cause we express no scene
Last Line: And if you like his play, 'tis as well he knew it.
Subject(s): Tragedy
PROLOGUE.
The CARDINAL! 'Cause we express no scene,
We do believe most of you, gentlemen,
Are at this hour in France, and busy there,
Though you vouchsafe to lend your bodies here;
But keep your fancy active, till you know,
By the progress of our play, 'tis nothing so.
A poet's art is to lead on your thought
Through subtle paths and workings of a plot;
And where your expectation does not thrive,
If things fall better, yet you may forgive.
I will say nothing positive; you may
Think what you please; we call it but a Play:
Whether the comic Muse, or ladies' love,
Romance, or direful tragedy it prove,
The bill determines not; and would you be
Persuaded, I would have't a Comedy,
For all the purple in the name, and state
Of him that owns it; but 'tis left to fate:
Yet I will tell you, ere you see it played,
What the author, and he blushed too, when he said,
Comparing with his own, (for't had been pride,
He thought, to build his wit a pyramid
Upon another's wounded fame,) this play
Might rival with his best, and dared to say—
Troth, I am out: he said no more. You, then,
When 'tis done, may say your pleasures, gentlemen.
DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.
King of NAVARRE.
The CARDINAL.
COLUMBO, the CARDINAL'S Nephew.
COUNT D'ALVAREZ.
HERNANDO, a Colonel.
ALPHONSO, a Captain.
Lords.
ANTONIO, Secretary to the Duchess.
Colonels.
ANTONELLI, the CARDINAL'S Servant.
Gentleman-Usher.
Surgeon.
JAQUES, PEDRO, and other Servants.
Guard.
Attendants, &c.
DUCHESS ROSAURA.
VALERIA, Ladies.
CELINDA,
PLACENTIA, the Duchess's Waiting-woman.
SCENE—The Capital of NAVARRE, and once on the frontiers.
ACT THE FIRST.
SCENE I.—An Apartment in the Palace.
Enter at one door, two Lords; at the other, ANTONIO.
FIRST LORD. Who is that?
2nd Lord. The duchess' secretary.
1st Lord. Signior!
Ant. Your lordship's servant.
1st Lord. How does her grace, since she left off her mourning
For the young Duke Mendoza, whose timeless death
At sea left her a virgin and a widow?
2nd Lord. She's now inclining to a second bridegroom.
When is the day of mighty marriage
To our great Cardinal's nephew, Don Columbo?
Ant. When they agree, they will not steal to church;
I guess the ceremonies will be loud and public.
Your lordships will excuse me. [Exit.
1st Lord. When they agree! Alas! poor lady, she
Dotes not upon Columbo, when she thinks
Of the young Count d'Alvarez, divorced from her
By the king's power.
2nd Lord. And counsel of the Cardinal,
To advance his nephew to the duchess' bed;
It is not well.
1st Lord. Take heed; the Cardinal holds
Intelligence with every bird i' the air.
2nd Lord. Death on his purple pride! he governs all;
And yet Columbo is a gallant gentleman.
1st Lord. The darling of the war, whom victory
Hath often courted; a man of daring,
And most exalted spirit. Pride in him
Dwells like an ornament, where so much honour
Secures his praise.
2nd Lord. This is no argument
He should usurp, and wear Alvarez' title
To the fair duchess; men of coarser blood,
Would not so tamely give this treasure up.
1st Lord. Although Columbo's name is great in war,
Whose glorious art and practice is above
The greatness of Alvarez, yet he cannot
Want soul, in whom alone survives the virtue
Of many noble ancestors, being the last
Of his great family.
2nd Lord. 'Tis not safe, you'll say,
To wrestle with the king.
1st Lord. More danger if the Cardinal be displeased,
Who sits at helm of state. Count d'Alvarez
Is wiser to obey the stream, than by
Insisting on his privilege to her love,
Put both their fates upon a storm.
2nd Lord. If wisdom,
Not inborn fear, make him compose, I like it.
How does the duchess bear herself?
1st Lord. She moves by the rapture of another wheel,
That must be obeyed; like some sad passenger,
That looks upon the coast his wishes fly to,
But is transported by an adverse wind,
Sometimes a churlish pilot.
2nd Lord. She has a sweet and noble nature.
1st Lord. That
Commends Alvarez; Hymen cannot tie
A knot of two more equal hearts and blood.
Enter ALPHONSO.
2nd Lord. Alphonso!
Alph. My good lord.
1st Lord. What great affair
Hath brought you from the confines?
Alph. Such as will
Be worth your counsels, when the king hath read
My letters from the governor: the Arragonians,
Violating their confederate oath and league,
Are now in arms: they have not yet marched towards us;
But 'tis not safe to expect, if we may timely
Prevent invasion.
2nd Lord. Dare they be so insolent?
1st Lord. This storm I did foresee.
2nd Lord. What have they, but
The sweetness of the king, to make a crime?
1st Lord. But how appears the Cardinal at this news?
Alph. Not pale, although
He knows they have no cause to think him innocent,
As by whose counsel they were once surprised.
1st Lord. There is more
Than all our present art can fathom in
This story, and I fear I may conclude,
This flame has breath at home to cherish it;
There's treason in some hearts, whose faces are
Smooth to the state.
Alph. My lord, I take my leave.
2nd Lord. Your friends, good captain. [Exeunt.
SCENE II.—A Room in the Duchess's House.
Enter Duchess, VALERIA, and CELINDA.
Val. Sweet madam, be less thoughtful; this obedience
To passion will destroy the noblest frame
Of beauty that this kingdom ever boasted.
Cel. This sadness might become your other habit,
And ceremonies black, for him that died.
The times of sorrow are expired; and all
The joys that wait upon the court, your birth,
And a new Hymen, that is coming towards you,
Invite a change.
Duch. Ladies, I thank you both;
I pray excuse a little melancholy
That is behind; my year of mourning hath not
So cleared my account with sorrow, but there may
Some dark thoughts stay, with sad reflections,
Upon my heart, for him I lost. Even this
New dress, and smiling garment, meant to show
A peace concluded 'twixt my grief and me,
Is but a sad remembrance; but I resolve
To entertain more pleasing thoughts; and if
You wish me heartily to smile, you must
Not mention grief, not in advice to leave it.
Such counsels open but afresh the wounds
You would close up, and keep alive the cause,
Whose bleeding you would cure. Let's talk of something
That may delight. You two are read in all
The histories of our court: tell me, Valeria,
Who has thy vote for the most handsome man?—
Thus I must counterfeit a peace, when all
Within me is at mutiny. [Aside.
Val. I have examined
All that are candidates for the praise of ladies,
But find—may I speak boldly to your grace?
And will you not return it in your mirth,
To make me blush?
Duch. No, no; speak freely.
Val. I will not rack your patience, madam; but
Were I a princess, I should think the Count d'Alvarez
Had sweetness to deserve me from the world.
Duch. Alvarez! she's a spy upon my heart. [Aside.
Val. He's young and active, and composed most sweetly.
Duch. I have seen a face more tempting.
Val. It had then
Too much of woman in't: his eyes speak movingly,
Which may excuse his voice, and lead away
All female pride his captive; his hair, black,
Which, naturally falling into curls—
Duch. Prithee, no more; thou art in love with him.—
The man in your esteem, Celinda, now?
Cel. Alvarez is, I must confess, a gentleman
Of handsome composition; but with
His mind, the greater excellence, I think
Another may delight a lady more,
If man be well considered, that's Columbo,
Now, madam, voted to be yours.
Duch. My torment! [Aside.
Val. She affects him not.
Cel. He has a person, and a bravery beyond
All men, that I observe.
Val. He is a soldier,
A rough-hewn man, and may show well at distance.
His talk will fright a lady; War, and grim-
Faced Honour are his mistresses; he raves
To hear a lute; Love meant him not his priest.—
Again your pardon, madam. We may talk,
But you have art to choose, and crown affection.
[CELINDA and VALERIA walk aside.
Duch. What is it to be born above these ladies,
And want their freedom! they are not constrained,
Nor slaved by their own greatness, or the king's;
But let their free hearts look abroad, and choose
By their own eyes to love. I must repair
My poor afflicted bosom, and assume
The privilege I was born with, which now prompts me
To tell the king, he hath no power nor art
To steer a lover's soul.—
Enter ANTONIO.
What says Count d'Alvarez?
Ant. Madam, he'll attend you.
Duch. Wait you, as I directed. When he comes,
Acquaint me privately.
Ant. Madam, I have news;
'Tis now arrived the court; we shall have wars.
Duch. I find an army here of killing thoughts.
Ant. The king has chosen Don Columbo general,
Who is immediately to take his leave.
Duch. What flood is let into my heart! How far
Is he to go?
Ant. To Arragon.
Duch. That's well
At first; he should not want a pilgrimage
To the unknown world, if my thoughts might convey him.
Ant. 'Tis not impossible he may go thither.
Duch. How?
Ant. To the unknown world; he goes to fight,
That's in his way: such stories are in nature.
Duch. Conceal this news.
Ant. He will not be long absent;
The affair will make him shift
To kiss your grace's hand. [Exit.
Duch. He cannot fly
With too much wing to take his leave.—I must
Be admitted to your conference; you have
Enlarged my spirits; they shall droop no more.
Cel. We are happy, if we may advance one thought
To your grace's pleasure.
Val. Your eye before was in eclipse; these smiles
Become you, madam.
Duch. I have not skill to contain myself. [Aside.
Enter PLACENTIA.
Pla. The Cardinal's nephew, madam, Don Columbo.
Duch. Already! Attend him. [Exit PLACENTIA.
Val. Shall we take our leave?
Duch. He shall not know, Celinda, how you praised him.
Cel. If he did, madam, I should have the confidence
To tell him my free thoughts.
Enter COLUMBO.
Duch. My lord, while I am in study to requite
The favour you have done me, you increase
My debt to such a sum, still by new honouring
Your servant, I despair of my own freedom.
Colum. Madam, he kisses your white hand, that must
Not surfeit in this happiness—and, ladies,
I take your smiles for my encouragement!
I have not long to practice these court tactics.
[Kisses them.
Cel. He has been taught to kiss.
Duch. There's something, sir,
Upon your brow I did not read before.
Colum. Does the character please you, madam?
Duch. More,
Because it speaks you cheerful.
Colum. 'Tis for such
Access of honour, as must make Columbo
Worth all your love; the king is pleased to think
Me fit to lead his army.
Duch. How! an army?
Colum. We must not use the priest, till I bring home
Another triumph, that now stays for me,
To reap it in the purple field of glory.
Duch. But do you mean to leave me, and expose
Yourself to the devouring war? No enemy
Should divide us; the king is not so cruel.
Colum. The king is honourable; and this grace
More answers my ambition, than his gift
Of thee, and all thy beauty, which I can
Love, as becomes thy soldier, and fight
To come again, a conqueror of thee. [She weeps.
Then I must chide this fondness.
Re-enter ANTONIO.
Ant. Madam, the king, and my lord Cardinal. [Exit.
Enter King, Cardinal, and Lords.
King. Madam, I come to call a servant from you,
And strengthen his excuse; the public cause
Will plead for your consent; at his return
Your marriage shall receive triumphant ceremonies;
Till then you must dispense.
Car. She appears sad
To part with him.—I like it fairly, nephew.
Cel. Is not the General a gallant man?
What lady would deny him a small courtesy?
Val. Thou hast converted me, and I begin
To wish it were no sin.
Cel. Leave that to narrow consciences.
Val. You are pleasant.
Cel. But he would please one better. Do such men
Lie with their pages?
Val. Wouldst thou make a shift?
Cel. He is going to a bloody business;
'Tis pity he should die without some heir:
That lady were hard-hearted now, that would
Not help posterity, for the mere good
Of the king and commonwealth.
Val. Thou art wild; we may be observed.
Duch. Your will must guide me; happiness and conquest
Be ever waiting on his sword!
Colum. Farewell.
[Exeunt King, COLUMBO, Cardinal, and Lords.
Duch. Pray give me leave to examine a few thoughts.—
Expect me in the garden.
Cel. We attend. [Exeunt CELINDA and VALERIA.
Duch. This is above all expectation happy.
Forgive me, Virtue, that I have dissembled,
And witness with me, I have not a thought
To tempt or to betray him, but secure
The promise I first made, to love and honour.
Re-enter ANTONIO.
Ant. The Count d'Alvarez, madam.
Duch. Admit him,
And let none interrupt us. [Exit ANTONIO.]—How shall I
Behave my looks? The guilt of my neglect,
Which had no seal from hence, will call up blood
To write upon my cheeks the shame and story
In some red letter.
Enter ALVAREZ.
Alv. Madam, I present
One that was glad to obey your grace, and come
To know what your commands are.
Duch. Where I once
Did promise love, a love that had the power
And office of a priest to chain my heart
To yours, it were injustice to command.
Alv. But I can look upon you, madam, as
Becomes a servant; with as much humility,
In tenderness of your honour and great fortune,
Give up, when you call back your bounty, all that
Was mine, as I had pride to think them favours.
Duch. Hath love taught thee no more assurance in
Our mutual vows, thou canst suspect it possible
I should revoke a promise, made to heaven
And thee, so soon? This must arise from some
Distrust of thy own faith.
Alv. Your grace's pardon;
To speak with freedom, I am not so old
In cunning to betray, nor young in time,
Not to see when and where I am at loss,
And how to bear my fortune, and my wounds,
Which, if I look for health, must still bleed inward,
A hard and desperate condition.
I am not ignorant your birth and greatness
Have placed you to grow up with the king's grace
And jealousy, which, to remove, his power
Hath chosen a fit object for your beauty
To shine upon, Columbo, his great favourite.
I am a man, on whom but late the king
Has pleased to cast a beam, which was not meant
To make me proud, but wisely to direct,
And light me to my safety. Oh, dear madam!
I will not call more witness of my love
(If you will let me still give it that name)
Than this, that I dare make myself a loser,
And to your will give all my blessings up.
Preserve your greatness, and forget a trifle,
That shall, at best, when you have drawn me up,
But hang about you like a cloud, and dim
The glories you are born to.
Duch. Misery
Of birth and state! That I could shift into
A meaner blood, or find some art to purge
That part which makes my veins unequal! yet
Those nice distinctions have no place in us;
There's but a shadow difference, a title:
Thy stock partakes as much of noble sap
As that which feeds the root of kings; and he
That writes a lord hath all the essence of
Nobility.
Alv. 'Tis not a name that makes
Our separation; the king's displeasure
Hangs a portent to fright us, and the matter
That feeds this exhalation is the Cardinal's
Plot to advance his nephew; then Columbo,
A man made up for some prodigious act,
Is fit to be considered: in all three
There is no character you fix upon
But has a form of ruin to us both.
Duch. Then you do look on these with fear?
Alv. With eyes
That should think tears a duty, to lament
Your least unkind fate; but my youth dares boldly
Meet all the tyranny o' the stars, whose black
Malevolence but shoots my single tragedy.
You are above the value of many worlds,
Peopled with such as I am.
Duch. What if Columbo,
Engaged to war, in his hot thirst of honour,
Find out the way to death?
Alv. 'Tis possible.
Duch. Or say, (no matter by what art or motive,)
He give his title up, and leave me to
My own election?
Alv. If I then be happy
To have a name within your thought, there can
Be nothing left to crown me with new blessing;
But I dream thus of heaven, and wake to find
My amorous soul a mockery. When the priest
Shall tie you to another, and the joys
Of marriage leave no thought at leisure to
Look back upon Alvarez, that must wither
For loss of you; yet then I cannot lose
So much of what I was once in your favour,
But, in a sigh, pray still you may live happy. [Exit.
Duch. My heart is in a mist; some good star smile
Upon my resolution, and direct
Two lovers in their chaste embrace to meet!
Columbo's bed contains my winding sheet. [Exit.
ACT THE SECOND.
SCENE I.—Before the Walls of the frontier City.—COLUMBO'S
Tent.
COLUMBO, HERNANDO, two Colonels, ALPHONSO, two Captains, and
other Officers, seated at a Council of War.
COLUM. I see no face in all this council that
Hath one pale fear upon't, though we arrived not
So timely to secure the town, which gives
Our enemy such triumph.
1st Col. 'Twas betrayed.
Alph. The wealth of that one city
Will make the enemy glorious.
1st Col. They dare
Not plunder it.
Alph. They give fair quarter yet:
They only seal up men's estates, and keep
Possession for the city's use: they take up
No wares without security; and he,
Whose single credit will not pass, puts in
Two lean comrades, upon whose bonds 'tis not
Religion to deny them.
Colum. To repair this
With honour, gentlemen?
Her. My opinion is
To expect awhile.
Colum. Your reason?
Her. Till their own
Surfeit betray them; for their soldiers,
Bred up with coarse and common bread, will show
Such appetites on the rich cates they find,
They'll spare our swords a victory, when their own
Riot and luxury destroys them.
1st Col. That
Will show our patience too like a fear.
With favour of his excellence, I think
The spoil of cities takes not off the courage,
But doubles it on soldiers; besides,
While we have tameness to expect, the noise
Of their success and plenty will increase
Their army.
Her. 'Tis considerable; we do not
Exceed in foot or horse, our muster not
'Bove sixteen thousand both; and the infantry
Raw, and not disciplined to act.
Alph. Their hearts,
But with a brave thought of their country's honour,
Will teach them how to fight, had they not seen
A sword. But we decline our own too much;
The men are forward in their arms, and take
The use with avarice of fame. [They rise, and talk aside.
Colum. [Staying HERNANDO.]—Colonel,
I do suspect you are a coward.
Her. Sir!
Colum. Or else a traitor; take your choice. No more.
I called you to a council, sir, of war;
Yet keep your place.
Her. I have worn other names.
Colum. Deserve them. Such
Another were enough to unsoul an army.
Ignobly talk of patience, till they drink
And reel to death! we came to fight, and force them
To mend their pace: thou hast no honour in thee,
Not enough noble blood to make a blush
For thy tame eloquence.
Her. My lord, I know
My duty to a general: yet there are
Some that have known me here. Sir, I desire
To quit my regiment.
Colum. You shall have license,—
Ink and paper!
Enter Attendant with ink and paper, and exit.
1st Col. The general's displeased.
2nd Col. How is't, Hernando?
Her. The general has found out employment for me;
He is writing letters back.
Alph. and Capt. To his mistress?
Her. Pray do not trouble me; yet, prithee speak,
And flatter not thy friend. Dost think I dare
Not draw my sword, and use it, when a cause,
With honour, calls to action?
Alph. and 1st Col. With the most valiant man alive.
Her. You'll do me some displeasure in your loves:
Pray to your places.
Colum. So; bear those letters to the king;
They speak my resolution, before
Another sun decline, to charge the enemy.
Her. A pretty court way
Of dismissing an officer.—I obey; success
Attend your counsels! [Exit.
Colum. If here be any dare not look on danger,
And meet it like a man, with scorn of death,
I beg his absence; and a coward's fear
Consume him to a ghost!
1st Col. None such are here.
Colum. Or, if in all your regiments you find
One man that does not ask to bleed with honour,
Give him a double pay to leave the army;
There's service to be done will call the spirits
And aid of men.
1st Col. You give us all new flame.
Colum. I am confirmed, and you must lose no time;
The soldier that was took last night, to me
Discovered their whole strength, and that we have
A party in the town. The river, that
Opens the city to the west, 's unguarded;—
We must this night use art and resolution;
We cannot fall ingloriously.
1st Capt. That voice
Is every man's.
Enter Soldier, and ANTONIO with a letter.
Colum. What now?
Sold. Letters.
Colum. Whence?
Sold. From the duchess.
Colum. They are welcome.— [Takes the letter.
Meet at my tent again this evening;
Yet stay, some wine.—The duchess' health! [Drinks.
See it go round. [Opens the letter.
Ant. It will not please his excellence.
1st Col. The duchess' health. [Drinks.
2nd Capt. To me! more wine.
Ant. The clouds are gathering, and his eyes shoot fire;
Observe what thunder follows.
2nd Capt. The general has but ill news. I suspect
The duchess sick, or else the king.
1st Capt. May be
The Cardinal.
2nd Capt. His soul has long been looked for.
Colum. She dares not be so insolent. It is
The duchess' hand. How am I shrunk in fame
To be thus played withal! She writes, and counsels,
Under my hand, to send her back a free
Resign of all my interest to her person,
Promise, or love; that there's no other way,
With safety of my honour, to revisit her.
The woman is possessed with some bold devil,
And wants an exorcism; or, I am grown
A cheap, dull, phlegmatic fool, a post, that's carved
I' the common street, and holding out my forehead
To every scurril wit to pin disgrace
And libels on't.—Did you bring this to me, sir?
My thanks shall warm your heart. [Draws a pistol.
Ant. Hold, hold! my lord!
I know not what provokes this tempest, but
Her grace ne'er showed more freedom from a storm
When I received this paper. If you have
A will to do an execution,
Your looks, without that engine, sir, may serve.—
I did not seek the employment.
Colum. Ha! had she
No symptom, in her eye or face, of anger,
When she gave this in charge?
Ant. Serene, as I
Have seen the morning rise upon the spring;
No trouble in her breath, but such a wind
As came to kiss, and fan the smiling flowers.
Colum. No poetry.
Ant. By all the truth in prose,
By honesty, and your own honour, sir,
I never saw her look more calm and gentle.
Colum. I am too passionate; you must forgive me.
I have found it out; the duchess loves me dearly;
She expressed a trouble in her when I took
My leave, and chid me with a sullen eye:
'Tis a device to hasten my return;
Love has a thousand arts. I'll answer it
Beyond her expectation, and put
Her soul to a noble test.—Your patience, gentlemen;
The king's health will deserve a sacrifice
Of wine. [Retires to the table and writes.
Ant. I am glad to see this change, and thank my wit
For my redemption. [Aside.
1st Col. Sir, the soldier's curse
On him loves not our master!
2nd Col. And they curse
Loud enough to be heard.
2nd Capt. Their curse has the nature of gunpowder.
Ant. They do not pray with half the noise.
1st Col. Our general is not well mixed;
He has too great a portion of fire.
2nd Col. His mistress cool him, (her complexion
Carries some phlegm,) when they two meet in bed;—
2nd Capt. A third may follow.
1st Capt. 'Tis much pity
The young duke lived not, to take the virgin off.
1st Col. 'Twas the king's act, to match two rabbitsuckers.
2nd Col. A common trick of state;
The little great man marries, travels then
Till both grow up, and dies when he should do
The feat; these things are still unlucky
On the male side.
Colum. This to the duchess' fair hand.
[Gives ANTONIO a letter.
Ant. She will think
Time hath no wing, till I return. [Exit.
Colum. Gentlemen,
Now each man to his quarter, and encourage
The soldier. I shall take a pride to know
Your diligence, when I visit all your several
Commands.
All. We shall expect.
2nd Col. And move
By your directions.
Colum. You are all noble. [Exeunt.
SCENE II.—A Room in the Duchess's House.
Enter Cardinal, Duchess, and PLACENTIA.
Car. I shall perform a visit daily, madam,
In th' absence of my nephew, and be happy
If you accept my care.
Duch. You have honoured me;
And if your entertainment have not been
Worthy your grace's person, 'tis because
Nothing can reach it in my power; but where
There is no want of zeal, other defect
Is only a fault to exercise your mercy.
Car. You are bounteous in all. I take my leave,
My fair niece, shortly, when Columbo has
Purchased more honours to prefer his name,
And value to your noble thoughts; meantime,
Be confident you have a friend, whose office
And favour with the king shall be effectual
To serve your grace.
Duch. Your own good deeds reward you,
Till mine rise equal to deserve their benefit.—
[Exit Cardinal.
Leave me awhile.— [Exit PLACENTIA.
Do not I walk upon the teeth of serpents,
And, as I had a charm against their poison,
Play with their stings? The Cardinal is subtle,
Whom 'tis not wisdom to incense, till I
Hear to what destiny Columbo leaves me:
May be the greatness of his soul will scorn
To own what comes with murmur;—if he can
Interpret me so happily.—Art come?
Enter ANTONIO with a letter.
Ant. His excellence salutes your grace.
Duch. Thou hast
A melancholy brow. How did he take my letter?
Ant. As he would take a blow; with so much sense
Of anger, his whole soul boiled in his face;
And such prodigious flame in both his eyes,
As they'd been the only seat of fire, and at
Each look a salamander leaping forth,
Not able to endure the furnace.
Duch. Ha! thou dost
Describe him with some horror.
Ant. Soon as he
Had read again, and understood your meaning,
His rage had shot me with a pistol, had not
I used some soft and penitential language,
To charm the bullet.
Duch. Wait at some more distance.—
My soul doth bathe itself in a cold dew;
Imagine I am opening of a tomb; [Opens the letter.
Thus I throw off the marble, to discover
What antic posture death presents in this
Pale monument to fright me.—Ha! [Reads.
My heart, that called my blood and spirits to
Defend it from the invasion of my fears,
Must keep a guard about it still, lest this
Strange and too mighty joy crush it to nothing.—
Antonio.
Ant. Madam.
Duch. Bid my steward give thee
Two thousand ducats. Art sure I am awake?
Ant. I shall be able to resolve you, madam,
When he has paid the money.
Duch. Columbo now is noble. [Exit.
Ant. This is better
Than I expected; if my lady be
Not mad, and live to justify her bounty. [Exit.
SCENE III.—An Apartment in the Palace.
Enter King, ALVAREZ, HERNANDO, and Lords.
King. The war is left to him; but we must have
You reconciled, if that be all your difference.
His rage flows like a torrent, when he meets
With opposition; leave to wrestle with him,
And his hot blood retreats into a calm,
And then he chides his passion. You shall back
With letters from us.
Her. Your commands are not
To be disputed.
King. Alvarez. [Takes him aside.
1st Lord. Lose not
Yourself by cool submission; he will find
His error, and the want of such a soldier.
2nd Lord. Have you seen the Cardinal?
Her. Not yet.
1st Lord. He wants no plot—
Her. The king I must obey:
But let the purple gownman place his engines
I' the dark, that wound me.
2nd Lord. Be assured
Of what we can to friend you; and the king
Cannot forget your service.
Her. I am sorry
For that poor gentleman.
Alv. I must confess, sir,
The duchess has been pleased to think me worthy
Her favours, and in that degree of honour,
That has obliged my life to make the best
Return of service, which is not, with bold
Affiance in her love, to interpose
Against her happiness, and your election.
I love so much her honour, I have quitted
All my desires; yet would not shrink to bleed
Out my warm stock of life, so the last drop
Might benefit her wishes.
King. I shall find
A compensation for this act, Alvarez;
It hath much pleased us.
Enter Duchess with a letter.
Duch. Sir, you are the king,
And in that sacred title it were sin
To doubt a justice: all that does concern
My essence in this world, and a great part
Of the other's bliss, lives in your breath.
King. What intends the duchess?
Duch. That will instruct you, sir. [Gives the letter.]—
Columbo has,
Upon some better choice, or discontent,
Set my poor soul at freedom.
King. 'Tis his character. [Reads.
"Madam, I easily discharge all my pretensions to your love and person; I leave
you to your own choice; and in what you have obliged yourself to me, resume a
power to cancel, if you please. Columbo."
This is strange!
Duch. Now do an act to make
Your chronicle beloved and read for ever.
King. Express yourself.
Duch. Since by divine infusion,—
For 'tis no art could force the general to
This change, second this justice, and bestow
The heart you would have given from me, by
Your strict commands to love Columbo, where
'Twas meant by Heaven; and let your breath return
Whom you divorced, Alvarez, mine.
Lords. This is
But justice, sir.
King. It was decreed above;
And since Columbo has released his interest,
Which we had wrought him, not without some force
Upon your will, I give you your own wishes:
Receive your own Alvarez. When you please
To celebrate your nuptial, I invite
Myself your guest.
Duch. Eternal blessings crown you!
All. And every joy your marriage!
[As the King is going out, he meets the Cardinal; they
converse together.
Alv. I know not whether I shall wonder most,
Or joy to meet this happiness.
Duch. Now the king
Hath planted us, methinks we grow already,
And twist our loving souls, above the wrath
Of thunder to divide us.
Alv. Ha! the Cardinal
Has met the king! I do not like this conference;
He looks with anger this way. I expect
A tempest.
Duch. Take no notice of his presence;
Leave me to meet, and answer it. If the king
Be firm in's royal word, I fear no lightning.
Expect me in the garden.
Alv. I obey;
But fear a shipwreck on the coast. [Exit.
Car. Madam.
Duch. My lord.
Car. The king speaks of a letter that has brought
A riddle in't.
Duch. 'Tis easy to interpret.
Car. From my nephew? May I deserve the favour?
[The Duchess gives him the letter.
Duch. He looks as though his eyes would fire the paper.
They are a pair of burning glasses, and
His envious blood doth give them flame.
Car. What lethargy
Could thus unspirit him? I am all wonder. [Aside.
Do not believe, madam,
But that Columbo's love is yet more sacred
To honour and yourself, than thus to forfeit
What I have heard him call the glorious wreath
To all his merits, given him by the king,
From whom he took you with more pride than ever
He came from victory: his kisses hang
Yet panting on your lips; and he but now
Exchanged religious farewell to return,
But with more triumph, to be yours.
Duch. My lord,
You do believe your nephew's hand was not
Surprised or strained to this?
Car. Strange arts and windings in the world! most dark
And subtle progresses! Who brought this letter?
Duch. I enquired not his name; I thought it not
Considerable to take such narrow knowledge.
Car. Desert and honour urged it here, not can
I blame you to be angry; yet his person
Obliged you should have given a nobler pause,
Before you made your faith and change so violent,
From his known worth, into the arms of one,
However fashioned to your amorous wish,
Not equal to his cheapest fame, with all
The gloss of blood and merit.
Duch. This comparison,
My good lord Cardinal, I cannot think
Flows from an even justice; it betrays
You partial where your blood runs.
Car. I fear, madam,
Your own takes too much license, and will soon
Fall to the censure of unruly tongues.
Because Alvarez has a softer cheek,
Can, like a woman, trim his wanton hair,
Spend half a day with looking in the glass,
To find a posture to present himself,
And bring more effeminacy than man,
Or honour, to your bed, must he supplant him?
Take heed, the common murmur, when it catches
The scent of a lost fame—
Duch. My fame, lord Cardinal?
It stands upon an innocence as clear
As the devotions you pay to Heaven.
I shall not urge, my lord, your soft indulgence
At my next shrift.
Car. You are a fine court lady!
Duch. And you should be a reverend churchman.
Car. One,
That if you have not thrown off modesty,
Would counsel you to leave Alvarez.
Duch. 'Cause
You dare do worse than marriage, must not I
Be admitted what the church and law allows me?
Car. Insolent! Then you dare marry him?
Duch. Dare!
Let your contracted flame and malice, with
Columbo's rage, higher than that, meet us
When we approach the holy place, clasped hand
In hand, we'll break through all your force, and fix
Our sacred vows together there.
Car. I knew
When, with as chaste a brow, you promised fair
To another. You are no dissembling lady!
Duch. Would all your actions had no falser lights
About them!
Car. Ha!
Duch. The people would not talk, and curse so loud.
Car. I'll have you chid into a blush for this.
Duch. Begin at home, great man, there's cause enough:
You turn the wrong end of the perspective
Upon your crimes, to drive them to a far
And lesser sight; but let your eyes look right,
What giants would your pride and surfeit seem!
How gross your avarice, eating up whole families!
How vast are your corruptions and abuse
Of the king's ear! at which you hang a pendant,
Not to adorn, but ulcerate, while the honest
Nobility, like pictures in the arras,
Serve only for court ornament. If they speak,
'Tis when you set their tongues, which you wind up,
Like clocks, to strike at the just hour you please.
Leave, leave, my lord, these usurpations,
And be what you were meant, a man to cure,
Not let in, agues to religion:
Look on the church's wounds.
Car. You dare presume,
In your rude spleen to me, to abuse the church?
Duch. Alas, you give false aim, my lord; 'tis your
Ambition and scarlet sins, that rob
Her altar of the glory, and leave wounds
Upon her brow; which fetches grief and paleness
Into her cheeks, making her troubled bosom
Pant with her groans, and shroud her holy blushes
Within your reverend purples.
Car. Will you now take breath?
Duch. In hope, my lord, you will behold yourself
In a true glass, and see those unjust acts
That so deform you, and by timely cure
Prevent a shame, before the short-haired men
Do crowd and call for justice; I take leave. [Exit.
Car. This woman has a spirit, that may rise
To tame the devil's: there's no dealing with
Her angry tongue; 'tis action and revenge
Must calm her fury. Were Columbo here,
I could resolve; but letters shall be sent
To th' army, which may wake him into sense
Of his rash folly, or direct his spirit
Some way to snatch his honour from this flame:
All great men know the soul of life is fame. [Exit.
ACT THE THIRD.
SCENE I.—An Apartment in the Palace.
Enter VALERIA and CELINDA.
VAL I did not think, Celinda, when I praised
Alvarez to the duchess, that things thus
Would come about. What does your ladyship
Think of Columbo now? It staggers all
The court, he should forsake his mistress; I
Am lost with wonder yet.
Cel. 'Tis very strange,
Without a spell; but there's a fate in love;—
I like him ne'er the worse.
Enter two Lords.
1st Lord. Nothing but marriages and triumph now!
Val. What new access of joy makes you, my lord,
So pleasant?
1st Lord. There's a packet come to court
Makes the king merry; we are all concerned in't.
Columbo hath given the enemy a great
And glorious defeat, and is already
Preparing to march home.
Cel. He thrived the better for my prayers.
2nd Lord. You have been
His great admirer, madam.
1st Lord. The king longs
To see him.
Val. This news exalts the Cardinal.
Enter Cardinal.
1st Lord. He's here!
He appears with discontent; the marriage
With Count d'Alvarez hath a bitter taste,
And's not worn off his palate: but let us leave him.
Cel. and Val. We'll to the duchess. [Exeunt.
Car. He has not won so much upon the Arragon
As he has lost at home; and his neglect
Of what my studies had contrived, to add
More lustre to our family by the access
Of the great duchess' fortune, cools his triumph,
And makes me wild.
Enter HERNANDO.
Her. My good lord Cardinal!
Car. You made complaint to the king about your general?
Her. Not a complaint, my lord; I did but satisfy
Some questions o' the king's.
Car. You see he thrives
Without your personal valour or advice,
Most grave and learned in the wars.
Her. My lord,
I envy not his fortune.
Car. 'Tis above
Your malice, and your noise not worth his anger;
'Tis barking 'gainst the moon.
Her. More temper would
Become that habit.
Car. The military thing would show some spleen.
I'll blow an army of such wasps about
The world.—Go look your sting you left i' the camp, sir.
Enter King and Lords.
Her. The king!—This may be one day counted for.
[Exit.
King. All things conspire, my lord, to make you fortunate.
Your nephew's glory—
Car. 'Twas your cause and justice
Made him victorious; had he been so valiant
At home he had had another conquest to
Invite, and bid her welcome to new wars.
King. You must be reconciled to providence.
My lord,
I heard you had a controversy with
The duchess; I will have you friends.
Car. I am not angry.
King. For my sake, then,
You shall be pleased, and with me grace the marriage,—
A churchman must show charity; and shine
With first example: she's a woman.
Car. You shall prescribe in all things, sir. You cannot
Accuse my love, if I still wish my nephew
Had been so happy, to be constant to
Your own, and my election; yet my brain
Cannot reach how this comes about; I know
My nephew loved her with a near affection.
Re-enter HERNANDO.
King. He'll give you fair account at his return.—
Colonel, your letters may be spared; the general
Has finished, and is coming home. [Exit.
Her. I am glad on't, sir.—My good lord Cardinal,
'Tis not impossible but some man provoked,
May have a precious mind to cut your throat.
Car. You shall command me, noble Colonel;
I know you will not fail to be at the wedding.
Her. Tis not Columbo that is married, sir.
Car. Go teach the postures of the pike and musket;
Then drill your myrmidons into a ditch,
Where starve, and stink in pickle.—You shall find
Me reasonable; you see the king expects me. [Exit.
Her. So does the devil.—
Some desperate hand may help you on your journey.
[Exit.
SCENE II.—A Room in the Duchess's House.
Enter ANTONIO and four Servants, with masques, dresses. &c.
Ant. Here, this; ay, this will fit your part: you shall wear the
slashes, because you are a soldier. Here's for the blue mute.
1st Serv. This doublet will never fit me; pox on't! are these
breeches good enough for a prince too? Pedro plays but a lord, and he
has two laces more in a seam.
Ant. You must consider Pedro is a foolish lord; he may wear
what lace he please.
2nd Serv. Does my beard fit my clothes well, gentlemen?
Ant. Pox o' your beard!
3rd Serv. That will fright away the hair.
1st Serv. This fellow plays but a mute, and he is so
troublesome, and talks.
3rd Serv. Master Secretary might have let Jaques
play the soldier; he has a black patch already.
2nd Serv. By your favour, Master Secretary, I
was asked who writ this play for us?
Ant. For us? Why, art thou any more than a blue mute?
2nd Serv. And, by my troth, I said, I thought it was all your own.
Ant. Away, you coxcomb!
4th Serv. Dost think he has no more wit than to write a comedy? My
lady's chaplain made the play, though he is content, for the honour and
trouble of the business, to be seen in't.
Enter 5th Servant.
5th Serv. Did anybody see my head, gentlemen? 'twas here
but now.—I shall have never a head to play my part in.
Ant. Is thy head gone? 'twas well thy part was not in't.
Look, look about; has not Jaques it?
4th Serv. His head? 'twill not come on upon my
shoulders. [Exit 5th Servant.
Ant. Make haste, gentlemen, I'll see whether
the king has supped. Look every man to his wardrobe and his part. [Exit.
2nd Serv. Is he gone? In my mind, a masque had been fitter for a
marriage.
4th Ser. Why, mute? There was no time for't, and the scenes
are troublesome.
2nd Serv. Half a score deal tacked together in the clouds,
what's that? a throne, to come down and dance; all the properties
have been paid forty times over, and are in the court
stock:—but the secretary must have a play, to show his wit.
4th Serv. Did not I tell thee 'twas the
chaplain's? Hold your tongue, mute.
1st Serv. Under the rose, and would
this cloth of silver doublet might never
come off again, if there be any more plot than you see in the back of my hand.
2nd Serv. You talk of a plot! I'll not give this for the best poet's
plot in the world, and if it be not well carried.
4th Serv. Well said, mute.
3rd Serv. Ha, ha! Pedro, since he put on his doublet, has repeated
but three lines, and he has broke five buttons.
2nd Serv. I know not; but by this false beard, and here's hair
enough to hang a reasonable honest man, I do not remember, to say, a
strong line indeed in the whole comedy, but when the chambermaid
kisses the captain.
3rd Serv. Excellent, mute!
Re-enter 5th Servant.
5th Serv. They have almost supped, and I cannot find my head yet.
4th Serv. Play in thine own.
5th Serv. Thank you for that! so I may have it made a property. If I
have not a head found me, let Master Secretary play my part himself without
it.
Re-enter ANTONIO.
Ant. Are you all ready, my masters? The king is coming through the gal
lery. Are the women dressed?
1st Serv. Rogero wants a head.
Ant. Here, with a pox to you! take mine. You a player! you a
puppy-dog. Is the music ready?
Enter Gentleman-Usher.
Gent. Gentlemen, it is my lady's pleasure that you expect
till she call for you. There are a company of cavaliers, in
gallant equipage, newly alighted, have offered to present
their Revels in honour of this Hymen; and 'tis her
grace's command, that you be silent till their entertainment be over.
1st Serv. Gentlemen?
2nd Serv. Affronted?
5th Serv. Master Secretary, there's your
head again; a man's a man. Have I broken my
sleep, to study fifteen lines for an
ambassador, and after that a constable, and is it come to this?
Ant. Patience, gentlemen,
be not so hot; 'tis but deferred, and the play may do well enough cold.
4th Serv. If it be not
presented, the chaplain will
have the greatest loss; he loses his wits. [Hautbois play.
Ant. This music
speaks the king upon
entrance. Retire, retire, and grumble not. [Exeunt all but ANTONIO.
Enter King, Cardinal, ALVAREZ, Duchess, CELINDA, VALERIA, PLACENTIA, L
ords, and HERNANDO, and take their seats: then enter COLUMBO and
five more, in rich habits, visarded; between every two a Torch-bearer:
they dance, and afterwards beckon to ALVAREZ, as if desirous to
speak with him.
Alv. With me! [They embrace and whisper, and exeunt.
King. Do you know the masquers, madam?
Duch. Not I, sir.
Car. There's one,—but that my nephew is abroad,
And has more soul than thus to jig upon
Their hymeneal night, I should suspect
'Twere he. [Aside.
Duch. Where's my Lord Alvarez?
King. Call in the bridegroom.
[Recorders sound within.
Re-enter COLUMBO, followed by the five Masquers, bringing in
the dead body of ALVAREZ one of their habits, and having laid it down, exeu
nt, all but COLUMBO.
Duch. What mystery is this?
Car. We want the bridegroom still.
King. Where is Alvarez?
[COLUMBO points to the body; they take off the mask and habit, and
find ALVAREZ bleeding.
Duch. Oh, 'tis my lord! he's murdered!
King. Who durst commit this horrid act?
Colum. I, sir. [Throws off his disguise.
King. Columbo? Ha!
Colum. Yes; Columbo, that dares stay
To justify that act.
Her. Most barbarous!
Duch. Oh, my dearest lord!
King. Our guard!
Enter Guard.
Seize on them all:
This sight doth shake all that is man within me.
Poor Alvarez, is this thy wedding day?
Duch. If you do think there is a Heaven, or pains
To punish such black crimes i' the other world,
Let me have swift, and such exemplar justice,
As shall become this great assassinate;
You will take off your faith else: and, if here
Such innocence must bleed, and you look on,
Poor men, that call you gods on earth, will doubt
To obey your laws, nay, practise to be devils,
As fearing, if such monstrous sins go on,
The saints will not be safe in Heaven.
King. You shall,
You shall have justice.
Car. Now to come off were brave. [Aside.
Enter Servant.
Serv. The masquers, sir, are fled; their horse, prepared
At gate, expected to receive them, where
They quickly mounted: coming so like friends,
None could suspect their haste, which is secured
By advantage of the night.
Colum. I answer for them all; 'tis stake enough
For many lives: but if that poniard
Had voice, it would convince they were but all
Spectators of my act. And now, if you
Will give your judgments leave, though at the first
Face of this object your cool bloods were frighted,
I can excuse this deed, and call it justice;
An act, your honours, and your office, sir,
Is bound to build a law upon, for others
To imitate. I have but took his life,
And punished her with mercy, who had both
Conspired to kill the soul of all my fame.
Read there; and read an injury as deep
In my dishonour, as the devil knew
A woman had capacity or malice
To execute: read there, how you were cozened, sir,
[Gives the Duchess's letter to the King.
Your power affronted, and my faith; her smiles,
A juggling witchcraft to betray, and make
My love her horse to stalk withal, and catch
Her curled minion.
Car. Is it possible
The duchess could dissemble so, and forfeit
Her modesty with you, and to us all?
Yet I must pity her. My nephew has
Been too severe; though this affront would call
A dying man from prayers, and turn him tiger;
There being nothing dearer than our fame,
Which, if a common man, whose blood has no
Ingredient of honour, labour to
Preserve, a soldier (by his nearest tie
To glory) is, above all others, bound
To vindicate:—and yet it might have been
Less bloody.
Her. Charitable devil!
King. [Reads.] "I pray, my lord, release under your hand, what
you dare challenge in my love or person, as a just forfeit to myself; this
act will speak you honourable to my thoughts; and when you have conquered
thus yourself, you may proceed to many victories, and after, with safety
of your fame, visit again
the lost Rosaura."
To this your answer was a free resign?
Colum. Flattered with great opinion of her faith,
And my desert of her (with thought that she,
Who seemed to weep and chide my easy will
To part with her, could not be guilty of
A treason, or apostasy so soon,
But rather meant this a device to make
Me expedite the affairs of war,) I sent
That paper, which her wickedness, not justice,
Applied (what I meant trial,) her divorce.
I loved her so, I dare call heaven to witness,
I knew not whether I loved most; while she,
With him, whose crimson penitence I provoked,
Conspired my everlasting infamy:
Examine but the circumstance.
Car. 'Tis clear;
This match was made at home, before she sent
That cunning writ, in hope to take him off,
As knowing his impatient soul would scorn
To own a blessing came on crutches to him.
It was not well to raise his expectation,
(Had you, sir, no affront?) to ruin him
With so much scandal and contempt.
King. We have
Too plentiful a circumstance, to accuse
You, madam, as the cause of your own sorrows;
But not without an accessary more
Than young Alvarez.
Car. Any other instrument?
King. Yes; I am guilty, with herself, and Don
Columbo, though our acts looked several ways,
That thought a lover might so soon be ransomed;
And did exceed the office of a king,
To exercise dominion over hearts,
That owe to the prerogative of Heaven
Their choice, or separation: you must, therefore,
When you do kneel for justice and revenge,
Madam, consider me a lateral agent
In poor Alvarez' tragedy.
1st Lord. It was your love to Don Columbo, sir.
Her. So, so! the king is charmed. Do you observe,
How, to acquit Columbo, he would draw
Himself into the plot. Heaven, is this justice?
Car. Your judgment is divine in this.
King. And yet
Columbo cannot be secure, and we
Just in his pardon, that durst make so great
And insolent a breach of law and duty.
2nd Lord. Ha! will he turn again?
King. And should we leave
This guilt of blood to Heaven, which cries, and strikes
With loud appeals the palace of eternity;
Yet here is more to charge Columbo than
Alvarez' blood, and bids me punish it,
Or be no king.
Her. 'Tis come about, my lords.
King. And if I should forgive
His timeless death, I cannot the offence,
That with such boldness struck at me. Has my
Indulgence to your merits, which are great,
Made me so cheap, your rage could meet no time
Nor place for your revenge, but where my eyes
Must be affrighted, and affronted with
The bloody execution? This contempt
Of majesty transcends my power to pardon,
And you shall feel my anger, sir.
Her. Thou shalt
Have one short prayer more for that.
Colum. Have I,
I' the progress of my life,
No actions to plead me up deserving
Against this ceremony?
Car. Contain yourself.
Colum. I must be dumb then. Where is honour,
And gratitude of kings, when they forget
Whose hand secured their greatness? Take my head off;
Examine then which of your silken lords,
As I have done, will throw himself on dangers;
Like to a floating island move in blood;
And where your great defence calls him to stand
A bulwark, upon his bold breast to take
In death, that you may live:—but soldiers are
Your valiant fools, whom, when your own securities
Are bleeding, you can cherish; but when once
Your state and nerves are knit, not thinking when
To use their surgery again, you cast
Them off, and let them hang in dusty armories,
Or make it death to ask for pay.
King. No more;
We thought to have put your victory and merits
In balance with Alvarez' death, which, while
Our mercy was to judge, had been your safety;
But the affront to us, made greater by
This boldness to upbraid our royal bounty,
Shall tame, or make you nothing.
Lord. Excellent!
Her. The Cardinal is not pleased.
Car. Humble yourself
To the king.
Colum. And beg my life? Let cowards do't,
That dare not die; I'll rather have no head,
Than owe it to his charity.
King. To the castle with him!—
[COLUMBO is led off by the Guard.
Madam, I leave you to your grief, and what
The king can recompense to your tears, or honour
Of your dead lord, expect.
Duch. This shows like justice. [Exeunt severally.
ACT THE FOURTH.
SCENE I.—An Apartment in the Palace.
Enter two Lords and HERNANDO.
FIRST LORD. This is the age of wonders.
2nd Lord. Wonderous mischiefs!
Her. Among those guards, which some call tutelar angels,
Whose office is to govern provinces,
Is there not one will undertake Navarre?
Hath Heaven forsook us quite?
1st Lord. Columbo at large!
2nd Lord. And graced now more than ever.
1st Lord. He was not pardoned;
That word was prejudicial to his fame.
Her. But, as the murder done had been a dream.
Vanished to memory, he's courted as
Preserver of his country. With what chains
Of magic, does this Cardinal hold the king?
2nd Lord. What will you say, my lord, if they enchant
The duchess now, and by some impudent art,
Advance a marriage to Columbo yet?
Her. Say!
I'll say no woman can be saved; nor is
It fit, indeed, any should pretend to Heaven,
After one such impiety in their sex:
And yet my faith has been so staggered, since
The king restored Columbo, I'll be now
Of no religion.
1st Lord. 'Tis not possible
She can forgive the murder; I observed
Her tears.
Her. Why, so did I, my lord;
And if they be not honest, 'tis to be
Half damned, to look upon a woman weeping.
When do you think the Cardinal said his prayers?
2nd Lord. I know not.
Her. Heaven forgive my want of charity!
But, if I were to kill him, he should have
No time to pray; his life could be no sacrifice,
Unless his soul went too.
1st Lord. That were too much.
Her. When you mean to dispatch him, you may give
Time for confession: they have injured me
After another rate.
2nd Lord. You are too passionate, cousin.
COLUMBO, Colonels, ALPHONSO, and Courtiers, pass over the stage.
Her. How the gay men do flutter, to congratulate
His gaol delivery! There's one honest man:
What pity 'tis, a gallant fellow should
Depend on knaves for his preferment!
1st Lord. Except this cruelty upon Alvarez,
Columbo has no mighty stain upon him;
But for his uncle—
Her. If I had a son
Of twelve years old that would not fight with him,
And stake his soul against his cardinal's cap,
I would disinherit him. Time has took a lease
But for three lives, I hope; a fourth may see
Honesty walk without a crutch.
2nd Lord. This is
But air and wildness.
Her. I will see the duchess.
1st Lord. You may do well to comfort her; we must Attend the king.
Her. Your pleasures. [Exit.
Enter King and Cardinal.
1st Lord. A man of a brave soul.
2nd Lord. The less his safety.—
The king and Cardinal in consult!
King. Commend us to the duchess, and employ
What language you think fit and powerful,
To reconcile her to some peace.—My lords.
Car. Sir, I possess all for your sacred uses. [Exeunt.
SCENE II.—A Room in the Duchess's House.
Enter ANTONIO and CELINDA.
Ant. Madam, you are the welcomest lady living.
Cel. To whom, Master Secretary?
Ant. If you have mercy
To pardon so much boldness, I durst say,
To me—I am a gentleman.
Cel. And handsome.
Ant. But my lady has
Much wanted you.
Cel. Why, Master Secretary?
Ant. You are the prettiest,—
Cel. So!
Ant. The wittiest,—
Cel. So!
Ant. The merriest lady i' the court.
Cel. And I was wished, to make the duchess pleasant?
Ant. She never had so deep a cause of sorrow;
Her chamber's but a coffin of a larger
Volume, wherein she walks so like a ghost,
'Twould make you pale to see her.
Cel. Tell her grace
I attend here.
Ant. I shall most willingly.—
A spirited lady! would I had her in my closet!
She is excellent company among the lords.
Sure she has an admirable treble.—Madam. [Exit.
Cel. I do suspect this fellow would be nibbling,
Like some, whose narrow fortunes will not rise
To wear things when the invention's rare and new:
But treading on the heel of pride, they hunt
The fashion when 'tis crippled, like fell tyrants.
I hope I am not old yet; I had the honour
To be saluted by our Cardinal's nephew
This morning: there's a man!
Re-enter ANTONIO.
Ant. I have prevailed.
Sweet madam, use what eloquence you can
Upon her; and if ever I be useful
To your ladyship's service, your least breath commands me. [Exit.
Enter Duchess.
Duch. Madam, I come to ask you but one question:
If you were in my state, my state of grief,
I mean, an exile from all happiness
Of this world, and almost of Heaven, (for my
Affliction is finding out despair,)
What would you think of Don Columbo?
Cel. Madam?
Duch. Whose bloody hand wrought all this misery.
Would you not weep, as I do, and wish rather
An everlasting spring of tears to drown
Your sight, than let your eyes be cursed to see
The murderer again, and glorious?
So careless of his sin, that he is made
Fit for new parricide, even while his soul
Is purpled o'er, and reeks with innocent blood?
But do not, do not answer me; I know
You have so great a spirit, (which I want,
The horror of his fact surprising all
My faculties), you would not let him live:
But I, poor I, must suffer more. There's not
One little star in Heaven will look on me,
Unless to choose me out the mark, on whom
It may shoot down some angry influence.
Enter PLACENTIA.
Pla. Madam, here's Don Columbo says he must
Speak with your grace.
Duch. But he must not, I charge you.
[Exit PLACENTIA.
None else wait?—Is this well done,
To triumph in his tyranny?—Speak, madam,
Speak but your conscience.
Enter COLUMBO and ANTONIO.
Ant. Sir, you must not see her.
Colum. Not see her? Were she cabled up above
The search of bullet or of fire, were she
Within her grave, and that the toughest mine
That ever nature teemed and groaned withal,
I would force some way to see her.—Do not fear
I come to court you, madam; you are not worth
The humblest of my kinder thoughts. I come
To show the man you have provoked, and lost,
And tell you what remains of my revenge.—
Live, but never presume again to marry;
I'll kill the next at the altar, and quench all
The smiling tapers with his blood: if after,
You dare provoke the priest and Heaven so much,
To take another, in thy bed I'll cut him from
Thy warm embrace, and throw his heart to ravens.
Cel. This will appear an unexampled cruelty.
Colum. Your pardon, madam; rage, and my revenge,
Not perfect, took away my eyes. You are
A noble lady, this not worth your eye-beam;
One of so slight a making, and so thin,
An autumn leaf is of too great a value
To play, which shall be soonest lost i' the air.
Be pleased to own me by some name, in your
Assurance, I despise to be received
There; let her witness that I call you mistress;
Honour me to make these pearls your carkanet.
[Gives her a necklace.
Cel. My lord, you are too humble in your thoughts.
Colum. There's no vexation too great to punish her.
[Aside, and exit.
Ant. Now, madam.
Cel. Away, you saucy fellow!—Madam, I
Must be excused, if I do think more honourably
Than you have cause, of this great lord.
Duch. Why, is not
All womankind concerned to hate what's impious?
Cel. For my part—
Duch. Antonio, is this a woman?
Ant. I know not whether she be man or woman;
I should be nimble to find out the experiment.
She looked with less state when Columbo came.
Duch. Let me entreat your absence. I am cozened in her.—
[Aside.
I took you for a modest, honest lady.
Cel. Madam, I scorn any accuser; and
Deducting the great title of a duchess,
I shall not need one grain of your dear honour
To make me full weight: if your grace be jealous,
I can remove. [Exit.
Ant. She is gone.
Duch. Prithee remove
My fears of her return [Exit ANT.]—She is not worth
Considering; my anger's mounted higher.
He need not put in caution for my next
Marriage.—Alvarez, I must come to thee,
Thy virgin wife, and widow; but not till
I have paid those tragic duties to thy hearse
Become my piety and love. But how?
Who shall instruct a way?
Enter PLACENTIA.
Pla. Madam, Don
Hernando much desires to speak with you.
Duch. Will not thy own descretion think I am
Unfit for visit?
Pla. Please your grace, he brings
Something, he says, imports your ear, and love
Of the dead lord, Alvarez.
Duch. Then admit him. [Exit PLACENTIA.
Re-enter PLACENTIA with HERNANDO.
Her. I would speak, madam, to yourself.
Duch. Your absence. [Exit PLACENTIA.
Her. I know not how your grace will censure so
Much boldness, when you know the affairs I come for.
Duch. My servant has prepared me to receive it,
If it concern my dead lord.
Her. Can you name
So much of your Alvarez in a breath,
Without one word of your revenge? O, madam,
I come to chide you, and repent my great
Opinion of your virtue, that can walk,
And spend so many hours in naked solitude;
As if you thought that no arrears were due
To his death, when you had paid his funeral charges,
Made your eyes red, and wet a handkerchief—
I come to tell you, that I saw him bleed;
I, that can challenge nothing in his name
And honour, saw his murdered body warm,
And panting with the labour of his spirits,
Till my amazed soul shrunk and hid itself:
While barbarous Columbo grinning stood,
And mocked the weeping wounds. It is too much,
That you should keep your heart alive so long
After this spectacle, and not revenge it.
Duch. You do not know the business of my heart,
That censure me so rashly; yet I thank you:
And, if you be Alvarez' friend, dare tell
Your confidence, that I despise my life,
But know not how to use it in a service,
To speak me his revenger: this will need
No other proof, than that you, who may
Be sent with cunning to betray me, I
Have made this bold confession. I so much
Desire to sacrifice to that hovering ghost
Columbo's life, that I am not ambitious
To keep my own two minutes after it.
Her. If you will call me coward, which is equal
To think I am a traitor, I forgive it
For this brave resolution, which time
And all the destinies must aid. I beg
That I may kiss your hand for this; and may
The soul of angry honour guide it—
Duch. Whither?
Her. To Don Columbo's heart.
Duch. It is too weak, I fear, alone.
Her. Alone? are you in earnest? Why, will it not
Be a dishonour to your justice, madam,
Another arm should interpose? But that
It were a saucy act to mingle with you,
I durst, nay, I am bound in the revenge
Of him that's dead, (since the whole world has interest
In every good man's loss,) to offer it:
Dare you command me, madam?
Duch. Not command;
But I should more than honour such a truth
In man, that durst, against so mighty odds,
Appear Alvarez' friend, and mine. The Cardinal—
Her. Is for the second course; Columbo must
Be first cut up; his ghost must lead the dance:
Let him die first.
Duch. But how?
Her. How! with a sword; and, if I undertake it,
I will not lose so much of my own honour,
To kill him basely.
Duch. How shall I reward
This infinite service? 'Tis not modesty
While now my husband groans beneath his tomb,
And calls me to his marble bed, to promise,
What this great act might well deserve, myself,
If you survive the victor; but if thus
Alvarez' ashes be appeased, it must
Deserve an honourable memory;
And though Columbo (as he had all power,
And grasped the fates) has vowed to kill the man
That shall succeed Alvarez—
Her. Tyranny!
Duch. Yet, if ever
I entertain a thought of love hereafter,
Hernando from the world shall challenge it;
Till when, my prayers and fortune shall wait on you.
Her. This is too mighty recompense.
Duch. 'Tis all just.
Her. If I outlive Columbo, I must not
Expect security at home.
Duch. Thou canst
Not fly where all my fortunes, and my love
Shall not attend to guard thee.
Her. If I die—
Duch. Thy memory
Shall have a shrine, the next within my heart,
To my Alvarez.
Her. Once again your hand.
Your cause is so religious, you need not
Strengthen it with your prayers; trust it to me.
Re-enter PLACENTIA, with the Cardinal.
Pla. Madam, the Cardinal
Duch. Will you appear?
Her. An he had all the horror of the devil
In's face, I would not baulk him.
[He stares upon the Cardinal in his exit.
Car. What makes Hernando here? I do not like
They should consult; I'll take no note. [Aside.]—The king
Fairly salutes your grace; by whose command
I am to tell you, though his will and actions
Illimited, stoop not to satisfy
The vulgar inquisition, he is
Yet willing to retain a just opinion
With those that are placed near him; and although
You look with nature's eye upon yourself,
Which needs no perspective to reach, nor art
Of any optic to make greater, what
Your narrow sense applies an injury,
(Ourselves still nearest to ourselves,) yet there's
Another eye that looks abroad, and walks
In search of reason, and the weight of things,
With which, if you look on him, you will find
His pardon to Columbo cannot be
So much against his justice, as your erring
Faith would persuade your anger.
Duch. Good my lord,
Your phrase has too much landscape, and I cannot
Distinguish, at this distance you present,
The figure perfect; but indeed my eyes
May pray your lordship find excuse, for tears
Have almost made them blind.
Car. Fair peace restore them!
To bring the object nearer, the king says,
He could not be severe to Don Columbo
Without injustice to his other merits,
Which call more loud for their reward and honour,
Than you for your revenge; the kingdom made
Happy by those; you only, by the last,
Unfortunate:—nor was it rational,
I speak the king's own language, he should die
For taking one man's breath, without whose valour
None now had been alive without dishonour.
Duch. In my poor understanding, 'tis the crown
Of virtue to proceed in its own track,
Not deviate from honour. If you acquit
A man of murder, 'cause he has done brave
Things in the war, you will bring down his valour
To a crime, nay, to a bawd, if it secure
A rape, and but teach those that deserve well,
To sin with greater license: but dispute
Is now too late, my lord; 'tis done; and you,
By the good king, in tender of my sorrows,
Sent to persuade me 'tis unreasonable
That justice should repair me.
Car. You mistake;
For if Columbo's death could make Alvarez
Alive, the king had given him up to law,
Your bleeding sacrifice; but when his life
Was but another treasure thrown away,
To obey a clamorous statute, it was wisdom
To himself, and common safety, to take off
This killing edge of law, and keep Columbo
To recompense the crime by noble acts,
And sorrow, that in time might draw your pity.
Duch. This is a greater tyranny than that
Columbo exercised; he killed my lord;
And you have not the charity to let
Me think it worth a punishment.
Car. To that,
In my own name, I answer: I condemn,
And urge the bloody guilt against my nephew;
'Tis violent and cruel, a black deed;
A deed, whose memory doth make me shudder;
An act, that did betray a tyrannous nature,
Which he took up in war, the school of vengeance;
And though the king's compassion spare him here,
Unless his heart
Weep itself out in penitent tears,—
Duch. This sounds
As you were now a good man.
Car. Does your grace
Think I have conscience to allow the murder!
Although, when it was done, I did obey
The stream of nature, as he was my kinsman,
To plead he might not pay his forfeit life,
Could I do less for one so near my blood?
Consider, madam, and be charitable;
Let not this wild injustice make me lose
The character I bear, and reverend habit.
To make you full acquainted with my innocence,
I challenge here my soul, and Heaven to witness,
If I had any thought, or knowledge with
My nephew's plot, or person, when he came,
Under the smooth pretence of friend, to violate
Your hospitable laws, and do that act,
Whose frequent mention draws this tear, a whirlwind
Snatch me to endless flames!
Duch. I must believe,
And ask your grace's pardon. I confess
I have not loved you since Alvarez' death,
Though we were reconciled.
Car. I do not blame
Your jealousy, nor any zeal you had
To prosecute revenge against me, madam,
As I then stood suspected, nor can yet
Implore your mercy to Columbo. All
I have to say is, to retain my first
Opinion and credit with your grace;
Which you may think I urge not out of fear,
Or ends upon you, (since, I thank the king,
I stand firm on the base of royal favour,)
But for your own sake, and to show I have
Compassion of your sufferings.
Duch. You have cleared
A doubt, my lord; and by this fair remonstrance,
Given my sorrow so much truce, to think
That we may meet again, and yet be friends.—
But be not angry, if I still remember
By whom Alvarez died, and weep, and wake
Another justice with my prayers.
Car. All thoughts
That may advance a better peace dwell with you! [Exit.
Duch. How would this cozening statesman bribe my faith
With flatteries, to think him innocent!
No; if his nephew die, this Cardinal must not
Be long-lived. All the prayers of a wronged widow
Make firm Hernando's sword! and my own hand
Shall have some glory in the next revenge.
I will pretend my brain with grief distracted,
It may gain easy credit; and beside
The taking off examination
For great Columbo's death, it makes what act
I do in that believed want of my reason,
Appear no crime, but my defence.—Look down,
Soul of my lord, from thy eternal shade,
And unto all thy blest companions boast,
Thy duchess busy to revenge thy ghost! [Exit.
SCENE III.—A retired spot without the City.
Enter on one side COLUMBO and ALPHONSO; on the other,
HERNANDO and a Colonel.
Colum. Hernando, now I love thee, and do half
Repent the affront my passion threw upon thee.
Her. You will not be too prodigal o' your penitence.
Colum. This makes good thy nobility of birth;
Thou may'st be worth my anger and my sword,
If thou dost execute as daringly
As thou provok'st a quarrel. I did think
Thy soul a starveling, or asleep.
Her. You'll find it
Active enough to keep your spirit waking;
Which to exasperate, for yet I think
It is not high enough to meet my rage—
Do you smile?
Colum. This noise is worth it.—Gentlemen,
I'm sorry this great soldier has engaged
Your travail; all his business is to talk.
Her. A little of your lordship's patience,
You shall have other sport, and swords that will
Be as nimble 'bout your heart as you can wish.
'Tis pity more than our two single lives
Should be at stake.
Colum. Make that no scruple, sir.
Her. To him then that survives, if fate allow
That difference, I speak, that he may tell
The world, I came not hither on slight anger,
But to revenge my honour, stained and trampled on
By this proud man; when general, he commanded
My absence from the field.
Colum. I do remember,
And I will give your soul now a discharge.
Her. I come
To meet it, if your courage be so fortunate.
But there is more than my own injury
You must account for, sir, if my sword prosper;
Whose point and every edge is made more keen
With young Alvarez' blood, in which I had
A noble interest. Does not that sin benumb
Thy arteries, and turn the guilty flowings
To trembling jelly in thy veins? Canst hear
Me name that murder, and thy spirits not
Struck into air, as thou wert shot by some
Engine from Heaven?
Colum. You are the duchess' champion
Thou hast given me a quarrel now. I grieve
It is determined all must fight, and I
Shall lose much honour in his fall.
Her. That duchess,
(Whom but to mention with thy breath is sacrilege,
An orphan of thy making, and condemned
By thee to eternal solitude, I come
To vindicate; and while I am killing thee,
By virtue of her prayers sent up for justice,
At the same time, in Heaven I am pardoned for't.
Colum. I cannot hear the bravo.
Her. Two words more,
And take your chance. Before you all I must
Pronounce that noble lady without knowledge,
Or thought of what I undertake for her.
Poor soul! she's now at her devotions,
Busy with Heaven, and wearing out the earth
With her stiff knees, and bribing her good angel
With treasures of her eyes, to tell her lord
How much she longs to see him. My attempt
Needs no commission from her: were I
A stranger in Navarre, the inborn right
Of every gentleman to Alvarez' loss
Is reason to engage their swords and lives
Against the common enemy of virtue.
Colum. Now have you finished? I have an instrument
Shall cure this noise, and fly up to thy tongue,
To murder all thy words.
Her. One little knot
Of phlegm, that clogs my stomach, and I have done:—
You have an uncle, called a Cardinal,
Would he were lurking now about thy heart,
That the same wounds might reach you both, and send
Your reeling souls together! Now have at you.
Alph. We must not, sir, be idle.
[They fight; ALPHONSO is slain.
Her. What think you now of praying?
Colum. Time enough. [He kills HERNANDO'S second.
Commend me to my friend; the scales are even:
I would be merciful, and give you time
Now to consider of the other world;
You'll find your soul benighted presently.
Her. I'll find my way i' the dark.
[They fight, and close; COLUMBO gets both the
swords, and HERNANDO takes up the second's weapon.
Colum. A stumble's dangerous.
Now ask thy life.—Ha!
Her. I despise to wear it,
A gift from any but the first bestower.
Colum. I scorn a base advantage.—[COLUMBO
throws away one of the swords; they fight; HERNANDO wounds COLUMBO.]
51;Ha!
Her. I am now
Out of your debt.
Colum. Thou hast done't, and I forgive thee.
Give me thy hand; when shall we meet again?
Her. Never, I hope.
Colum. I feel life ebb apace: yet I'll look upwards,
And show my face to Heaven. [Dies.
Her. The matter's done;
I must not stay to bury him. [Exit.
ACT THE FIFTH.
SCENE I.—A Garden.
Enter two Lords.
FIRST LORD. Columbo's death doth much afflict the king.
2nd Lord. I thought the Cardinal would have lost his wits
At first, for's nephew; it drowns all the talk
Of the others that were slain.
1st Lord. We are friends.
I do suspect Hernando had some interest,
And knew how their wounds came.
2nd Lord. His flight confirms it,
For whom the Cardinal has spread his nets.
1st Lord. He is not so weak to trust himself at home
To his enemy's gripe.
2nd Lord. All strikes not me so much,
As that the duchess, most oppressèd lady,
Should be distracted, and before Columbo
Was slain.
1st Lord. But that the Cardinal should be made
Her guardian, is to me above that wonder.
2nd Lord. So it pleased the king; and she, with that small stock
Of reason left her, is so kind and smooth
Upon him.
1st Lord. She's turned a child again: a madness,
That would have made her brain and blood boil high,
In which distemper she might have wrought something,—
2nd Lord. Had been to purpose.
1st Lord. The Cardinal is cunning; and howe'er
His brow does smile, he does suspect Hernando
Took fire from her, and waits a time to punish it.
2nd Lord. But what a subject of disgrace and mirth
Hath poor Celinda made herself by pride,
In her belief Columbo was her servant!
Her head hath stooped much since he died, and she
Almost ridiculous at court.
Enter Cardinal, ANTONELLI, and Servant.
1st Lord. The Cardinal
Is come into the garden, now—
Car. Walk off.— [Exeunt Lords.
It troubles me the duchess, by her loss
Of brain, is now beneath my great revenge.
She is not capable to feel my anger,
Which, like to unregarded thunder spent
In woods, and lightning aimed at senseless trees,
Must idly fall, and hurt her not, not to
That sense her guilt deserves: a fatal stroke,
Without the knowledge for what crime, to fright her,
When she takes leave, and make her tug with death,
Until her soul sweat, is a pigeon's torment,
And she is sent a babe to the other world.
Columbo's death will not be satisfied,
And I but wound her with a two-edged feather;
I must do more: I have all opportunity,
(She by the king now made my charge,) but she's
So much a turtle, I shall lose by killing her,
Perhaps do her a pleasure and preferment;
That must not be.
Enter CELINDA with a parchment.
Anton. [Stopping her.]—Is not this she, that would be thought
to have been
Columbo's mistress?—Madam, his grace is private,
And would not be disturbed; you may displease him.
Cel. What will your worship wager that he shall
Be pleased again before we part?
Anton. I'll lay this diamond, madam, 'gainst a kiss,
And trust yourself to keep the stakes.
Cel. 'Tis done. [Comes forward.
Anton. I have long had an appetite to this lady;
But the lords keep her up so high—this toy
May bring her on.
Car. This interruption tastes not of good manners.
Cel. But where necessity, my lords, compel
The boldness may meet pardon, and when you
Have found my purpose, I may less appear
Unmannerly.
Car. To the business.
Cel. It did please
Your nephew, sir, before his death, to credit me
With so much honourable favour, I
Am come to tender to his near'st of blood,
Yourself, what does remain a debt to him.
Not to delay your grace with circumstance,
That deed, if you accept, makes you my heir
Of no contemptible estate.—This way [He reads.
Is only left to tie up scurril tongues
And saucy men, that since Columbo's death
Venture to libel on my pride and folly;
His greatness and this gift, which I enjoy
Still for my life, (beyond which term a kingdom's
Nothing,) will curb the giddy spleens of men
That live on impudent rhyme, and railing at
Each wandering fame they catch. [Aside.
Car. Madam, this bounty
Will bind my gratitude, and care to serve you.
Cel. I am your grace's servant.
Car. Antonelli!— [Whispers.
And when this noble lady visits me,
Let her not wait.
Cel. What think you, my officious sir? His grace
Is pleased, you may conjecture: I may keep
Your gem; the kiss was never yours.
Anton. Sweet madam—
Cel. Talk if you dare; you know I must not wait;
And so, farewell for this time. [Exit.
Car. 'Tis in my brain already, and it forms
Apace—good, excellent, revenge, and pleasant!
She's now within my talons: 'tis too cheap
A satisfaction for Columbo's death,
Only to kill her by soft charm or force.
I'll rifle first her darling chastity;
It will be after time enough to poison her,
And she to the world be thought her own destroyer.
As I will frame the circumstance, this night
All may be finished: for the colonel,
Her agent in my nephew's death, (whom I
Disturbed at counsel with her,) I may reach him
Hereafter, and be master of his fate.
We starve our conscience when we thrive in state.
[Exeunt.
SCENE II.—A Room in the Duchess's House.
Enter ANTONIO and PLACENTIA.
Ant. Placentia, we two are only left
Of all my lady's servants; let us be true
To her, and one another; and be sure,
When we are at prayers, to curse the Cardinal.
Pla. I pity my sweet lady.
Ant. I pity her too, but am a little angry;
She might have found another time to lose
Her wits.
Pla. That I were a man!
Ant. What would'st thou do, Placentia?
Pla. I would revenge my lady.
Ant. 'Tis better, being a woman; thou may'st do
Things that may prosper better, and the fruit
Be thy own another day.
Pla. Your wit still loves
To play the wanton.
Ant. 'Tis a sad time, Placentia;
Some pleasure would do well: the truth is, I
Am weary of my life, and I would have
One fit of mirth before I leave the world.
Pla. Do not you blush to talk thus wildly?
Ant. 'Tis good manners
To be a little mad after my lady;
But I have done. Who is with her now?
Pla. Madam Valeria.
Ant. Not Celinda? There's a lady for my humour!
A pretty book of flesh and blood, and well
Bound up, in a fair letter too. Would I
Had her with all the errata!
Pla. She has not
An honourable fame.
Ant. Her fame! that's nothing;
A little stain;—her wealth will fetch again
The colour, and bring honour into her cheeks
As fresh;—
If she were mine, and I had her exchequer,
I know the way to make her honest;
Honest to the touch, the test, and the last trial.
Pla. How, prithee?
Ant. Why,
First I would marry her, that's a verb material;
Then I would print her with an index
Expurgatorius; a table drawn
Of her court heresies; and when she's read,
Cum privilegio, who dares call her whore?
Pla. I'll leave you, if you talk thus.
Ant. I have done;
Placentia, thou may'st be better company
After another progress: and now tell me,
Didst ever hear of such a patient madness
As my lady is possessed with? She has raved
But twice:—an she would fright the Cardinal,
Or at a supper if she did but poison him,
It were a frenzy I could bear withal.
She calls him her dear governor.—
Enter HERNANDO disguised, with a letter.
Pla. Who is this?
Her. Her secretary!—Sir,
Here is a letter, if it may have so
Much happiness to kiss her grace's hand.
Ant. From whom?
Her. That's not in your commission, sir,
To ask, or mine to satisfy; she will want
No understanding when she reads.
Ant. Alas!
Under your favour, sir, you are mistaken;
Her grace did never more want understanding.
Her. How?
Ant. Have you not heard? her skull is broken, sir,
And many pieces taken out; she's mad.
Her. The sad fame of her distraction
Has too much truth, it seems,
Pla. If please you, sir,
To expect awhile, I will present the letter.
Her. Pray do.— [Exit PLACENTIA.
How long has she been thus distempered, sir?
Ant. Before the Cardinal came to govern here,
Who, for that reason, by the king was made
Her guardian. We are now at his devotion.
Her. A lamb given up to a tiger! May diseases
Soon eat him through his heart!
Ant. Your pardon, sir.
I love that voice; I know it too a little.
Are not you—be not angry, noble sir,
I can with ease be ignorant again,
And think you are another man; but if
You be that valiant gentleman they call—
Her. Whom? what?
Ant. That killed—I would not name him, if I thought
You were not pleased to be that very gentleman.
Her. Am I betrayed?
Ant. The devil shall not
Betray you here: kill me, and I will take
My death you are the noble colonel.
We are all bound to you for the general's death,
Valiant Hernando! When my lady knows
You are here, I hope 'twill fetch her wits again.
But do not talk too loud; we are not all
Honest i' the house; some are the Cardinal's creatures.
Her. Thou wert faithful to thy lady. I am glad
'Tis night. But tell me how the churchman uses
The duchess.
Enter ANTONELLI.
Ant. He carries angels in his tongue and face, but I
Suspect his heart: this is one of his spawns.—
Signior Antonelli.
Anton. Honest Antonio!
Ant. And how, and how—a friend of mine—where is
The Cardinal's grace?
Her. That will be never answered. [Aside.
Anton. He means to sup here with the duchess.
Ant. Will he?
Anton. We'll have the charming bottles at my chamber.
Bring that gentleman; we'll be mighty merry.
Her. I may disturb your jollity. [Aside.
Anton. Farewell, sweet— [Exit.
Ant. Dear Antonelli!—A round pox confound you!
This is court rhetoric at the back-stairs.
Enter PLACENTIA.
Pla. Do you know this gentleman?
Ant. Not I.
Pla. My lady presently dismissed Valeria,
And bade me bring him to her bed-chamber.
Ant. The gentleman has an honest face.
Pla. Her words
Fell from her with some evenness and joy.—
Her grace desires your presence.
Her. I'll attend her. [Exit with PLACENTIA.
Ant. I would this soldier had the Cardinal
Upon a promontory, with what a spring
The churchman would leap down! it were a spectacle
Most rare, to see him topple from the precipice,
And souse in the salt water with a noise
To stun the fishes; and if he fell into
A net, what wonder would the simple sea-gulls
Have, to draw up the o'ergrown lobster,
So ready boiled! He shall have my good wishes.
This colonel's coming may be lucky; I
Will be sure none shall interrupt them.
Enter CELINDA.
Cel. Is
Her grace at opportunity?
Ant. No, sweet madam;
She is asleep, her gentlewoman says.
Cel. My business is but a visit. I'll expect.
Ant. That must not be, although I like your company.
Cel. You are grown rich, Master Secretary.
Ant. I, madam? Alas!
Cel. I hear you are upon another purchase.
Ant. I upon a purchase!
Cel. If you want any sum—
Ant. If I could purchase your sweet favour, madam.
Cel. You shall command me, and my fortune, sir.
Ant. How's this? [Aside.
Cel. I have observed you, sir, a staid
And prudent gentleman—and I shall want—
Ant. Not me?
Cel. A father for some infant: he has credit
I' the world. I am not the first cast lady
Has married a secretary. [Aside.
Ant. Shall I wait upon you?
Cel. Whither?
Ant. Any whither.
Cel. I may chance lead you then—
Ant. I shall be honoured to obey. My blood
Is up, and in this humour I'm for anything.
Cel. Well, sir, I'll try your manhood.
Ant. 'Tis my happiness;
You cannot please me better.
Cel. This was struck
I' the opportunity. [Aside, and exit.
Ant. I am made for ever. [Exit, following her.
SCENE III.—Another Room in the same.
Enter HERNANDO and Duchess.
Her. Dear madam, do not weep.
Duch. You're very welcome;
I have done; I will not shed a tear more
Till I meet Alvarez, then I'll weep for joy.
He was a fine young gentleman, and sung sweetly;
An you had heard him but the night before
We were married, you would have sworn he had been
A swan, and sung his own sad epitaph.
But we'll talk o' the Cardinal.
Her. Would his death
Might ransom your fair sense! he should not live
To triumph in the loss. Beshrew my manhood,
But I begin to melt.
Duch. I pray, sir, tell me,
For I can understand, although they say
I have lost my wits; but they are safe enough,
And I shall have them when the Cardinal dies;
Who had a letter from his nephew, too,
Since he was slain.
Her. From whence?
Duch. I know not where he is. But in some bower
Within a garden he is making chaplets,
And means to send me one; but I'll not take it;
I have flowers enough, I thank him, while I live.
Her. But do you love your governor?
Duch. Yes, but I'll never marry him; I am promised
Already.
Her. To whom, madam?
Duch. Do not you
Blush when you ask me that? must not you be
My husband? I know why, but that's a secret.
Indeed, if you believe me, I do love
No man alive so well as you: the Cardinal
Shall never know't; he'll kill us both; and yet
He says he loves me dearly, and has promised
To make me well again; but I'm afraid,
One time or other, he will give me poison.
Her. Prevent him, madam, and take nothing from him.
Duch. Why, do you think 'twill hurt me?
Her. It will kill you.
Duch. I shall but die, and meet my dear-loved lord,
Whom, when I have kissed, I'll come again and work
A bracelet of my hair for you to carry him,
When you are going to Heaven; the posy shall
Be my own name, in little tears, that I
Will weep next winter, which congealed i' the frost,
Will show like seed-pearl. You'll deliver it?
I know he'll love, and wear it for my sake.
Her. She is quite lost.
Duch. Pray give me, sir, your pardon:
I know I talk not wisely; but if you had
The burthen of my sorrow, you would miss
Sometimes your better reason. Now I'm well;
What will you do when the Cardinal comes?
He must not see you for the world.
Her. He shall not;
I'll take my leave before he come.
Duch. Nay, stay;
I shall have no friend left me when you go.
He will but sup; he shall not stay to lie with me;
I have the picture of my lord abed;
Three are too much this weather.
Enter PLACENTIA.
Pla. Madam, the Cardinal.
Her. He shall sup with the devil.
Duch. I dare not stay;
The red cock will be angry. I'll come again.
[Exeunt Duchess and PLACENTIA.
Her. This sorrow is no fable. Now I find
My curiosity is sadly satisfied.—
Ha! if the duchess in her strangled wits
Let fall words to betray me to the Cardinal,
The panther will not leap more fierce to meet
His prey, when a long want of food hath parched
His starvèd maw, than he to print his rage,
And tear my heart-strings. Everything is fatal;
And yet she talked sometimes with chain of sense,
And said she loved me. Ha! they come not yet.
I have a sword about me, and I left
My own security to visit death.
Yet I may pause a little, and consider
Which way does lead me to't most honourably.
Does not the chamber that I walk in tremble?
What will become of her, and me, and all
The world in one small hour? I do not think
Ever to see the day again; the wings
Of night spread o'er me like a sable hearse-cloth;
The stars are all close mourners too; but I
Must not alone to the cold silent grave,
I must not.—If thou cans't, Alvarez, open
That ebon curtain, and behold the man,
When the world's justice fails, shall right thy ashes,
And feed their thirst with blood! thy duchess is
Almost a ghost already, and doth wear
Her body like an useless upper garment,
The trim and fashion of it lost.—Ha!
Re-enter PLACENTIA.
Pla. You need not doubt me, sir.—My lady prays
You would not think it long; she in my ear
Commanded me to tell you, that when last
She drank, she had happy wishes to your health.
Her. And did the Cardinal pledge it?
Pla. He was not
Invited to't, nor must he know you are here.
Her. What do they talk of, prithee?
Pla. His grace is very pleasant [A lute is heard.
And kind to her; but her returns are after
The sad condition of her sense, sometimes
Unjointed.
Her. They have music.
Pla. A lute, only,
His grace prepared; they say, the best of Italy,
That waits upon my lord.
Her. He thinks the duchess
Is stung with a tarantula.
Pla. Your pardon;
My duty is expected. [Exit.
Her. Gentle lady!—A voice too?
SONG within.
Strep. Come, my Daphne, come away,
We do waste the crystal day;
'Tis Strephon calls. Dap. What would my love?
Strep. Come, follow to the myrtle grove,
Where Venus shall prepare
New chaplets for thy hair.
Dap. Were I shut up within a tree,
I rend my bark to follow thee.
Strep. My shepherdess, make haste,
The minutes slide too fast.
Dap. In those cooler shades will I,
Blind as Cupid, kiss thine eye.
Strep. In thy perfumèd bosom then I'll stray;
In such warm snow who would not lose his way?
Chor. We'll laugh, and leave the world behind,
And gods themselves that see,
Shall envy thee and me,
But never find
Such joys, when they embrace a deity.
Her. If at this distance I distinguish, 'tis not
Church music; and the air's wanton, and no anthem
Sung to't, but some strange ode of love and kisses.
What should this mean?—Ha? he is coming hither.
[Draws his sword.
I am betrayed; he marches in her hand.
I'll trust a little more; mute as the arras,
My sword and I here.
[Conceals himself behind the arras.
Enter Cardinal, Duchess, ANTONELLI, and Attendants.
Car. Wait you in the first chamber, and let none
Presume to interrupt us.
[Exeunt ANTONELLI and Attendants.
She is pleasant;
Now for some art, to poison all her innocence.
Duch. I do not like the Cardinal's humour; he
Little suspects what guest is in my chamber.
Car. Now, madam, you are safe. [Embraces her.
Duch. How means your lordship?
Car. Safe in my arms, sweet duchess.
Duch. Do not hurt me.
Car. Not for the treasures of the world! You are
My pretty charge. Had I as many lives
As I have careful thoughts to do you service,
I should think all a happy forfeit, to
Delight your grace one minute; 'tis a Heaven
To see you smile.
Duch. What kindness call you this?
Car. It cannot want a name while you preserve
So plentiful a sweetness; it is love.
Duch. Of me? How shall I know't, my lord?
Car. By this, and this, swift messengers to whisper
Our hearts to one another. [Kisses her.
Duch. Pray do you come a wooing?
Car. Yes, sweet madam;
You cannot be so cruel to deny me.
Duch. What? my lord.
Car. Another kiss.
Duch. Can you
Dispense with this, my lord?—Alas, I fear
Hernando is asleep, or vanished from me [Aside.
Car. I have mocked my blood into a flame; and what
My angry soul had formed for my revenge,
Is now the object of my amorous sense.
I have took a strong enchantment from her lips,
And fear I shall forgive Columbo's death,
If she consent to my embrace. [Aside.]—Come, madam.
Duch. Whither? my lord.
Car. But to your bed or couch,
Where, if you will be kind, and but allow
Yourself a knowledge, love, whose shape and raptures
Wise poets have but glorified in dreams,
Shall make your chamber his eternal palace;
And with such active and essental streams
Of new delights glide o'er your bosom, you
Shall wonder to what unknown world you are
By some blest change translated. Why do you pause,
And look so wild? Will you deny your governor?
Duch. How came you by that cloven foot?
Car. Your fancy
Would turn a traitor to your happiness.
I am your friend; you must be kind.
Duch. Unhand me,
Or I'll cry out a rape.
Car. You will not, sure?
Duch. I have been cozened with Hernando's shadow;
Here's none but Heaven to hear me.—Help! a rape!
Car. Are you so good at understanding? then,
I must use other argument.
[He seizes her. HERNANDO rushes from the arras.
Her. Go to, Cardinal. [Strikes him; exit Duchess.
Car. Hernando? Murder! treason! help!
Her. An army shall not rescue thee. Your blood
Is much inflamed; I have brought a lancet with me
Shall open your hot veins, and cool your fever.—
To vex your parting soul, it was the same
Engine that pierced Columbo's heart.
Car. Help! murder! [Stabs him.
Enter ANTONELLI and Servants.
Anton. Some ring the bell, 'twill raise the court;
My lord is murdered! 'Tis Hernando. [The bell rings.
Her. I'll make you all some sport.— [Stabs himself.]
—So; now we are even.
Where is the duchess? I would take my leave
Of her, and then bequeath my curse among you.
[He falls.
Enter King, Duchess, VALERIA, Lords, and Guard.
King. How come these bloody objects?
Her. With a trick my sword found out. I hope he's paid.
1st Lord. I hope so too.—A surgeon
For my lord Cardinal!
King. Hernando?
Duch. Justice! oh, justice, sir, against a ravisher!
Her. Sir, I have done you service.
King. A bloody service.
Her. 'Tis pure scarlet.
Enter Surgeon.
Car. After such care to perfect my revenge,
Thus bandied out of the world by a woman's plot!
[Aside.
Her. I have preserved the duchess from a rape.
Good night to me and all the world for ever! [Dies.
King. So impious!
Duch. 'Tis most true; Alvarez' blood
Is now revenged; I find my brain return,
And every straggling sense repairing home.
Car. I have deserved you should turn from me, sir,
My life hath been prodigiously wicked;
My blood is now the kingdom's balm. Oh, sir,
I have abused your ear, your trust, your people,
And my own sacred office; my conscience
Feels now the sting. Oh, show your charity,
And with your pardon, like a cool soft gale,
Fan my poor sweating soul, that wanders through
Unhabitable climes, and parchèd deserts.—
But I am lost, if the great world forgive me,
Unless I find your mercy for a crime
You know not, madam, yet, against your life,
I must confess, more than my black intents
Upon your honour; you're already poisoned.
King. By whom?
Car. By me,
In the revenge I owed Columbo's loss;
With your last meat was mixed a poison, that
By subtle, and by sure degrees, must let
In death.
King. Look to the duchess, our physicians!
Car. Stay;
I will deserve her mercy, though I cannot
Call back the deed. In proof of my repentance,
If the last breath of a now dying man
May gain your charity and belief, receive
This ivory box; in it an antidote,
'Bove that they boast the great magistral medicine:
That powder, mixed with wine, by a most rare
And quick access to the heart, will fortify it
Against the rage of the most nimble poison.
I am not worthy to present her with it.
Oh, take it, and preserve her innocent life.
1st Lord. Strange, he should have a good thing in such readiness.
Car. 'Tis that, which in my jealousy and state,
Trusting to false predictions of my birth,
That I should die by poison, I preserved
For my own safety; wonder not, I made
That my companion was to be my refuge.
Enter Servant with a bowl of wine.
1st Lord. Here is some touch of grace.
Car. In greater proof of my pure thoughts, I take
This first, and with my dying breath confirm
My penitence; it may benefit her life,
But not my wounds. [He drinks.] Oh, hasten to preserve her;
And though I merit not her pardon, let not
Her fair soul be divorced.
[The Duchess takes the bowl and drinks.
King. This is some charity; may it prosper, madam!
Val. How does your grace?
Duch. And must I owe my life to him, whose death
Was my ambition? Take this free acknowledgment;
I had intent, this night, with my own hand
To be Alvarez' justicer.
King. You were mad,
And thought past apprehension of revenge.
Duch. That shape I did usurp, great sir, to give
My heart more freedom and defence; but when
Hernando came to visit me, I thought
I might defer my execution;
Which his own rage supplied without my guilt,
And when his lust grew high, met with his blood.
1st Lord. The Cardinal smiles.
Car. Now my revenge has met
With you, my nimble duchess! I have took
A shape to give my act more freedom too,
And now I am sure she's poisoned with that dose
I gave her last.
King. Thou'rt not so horrid.
Duch. Ha! some cordial.
Car. Alas, no preservative
Hath wings to overtake it; were her heart
Locked in a quarry it would search, and kill
Before the aids can reach it. I am sure
You shall not now laugh at me.
King. How came you by that poison?
Car. I prepared it,
Resolving, when I had enjoyed her, which
The colonel prevented, by some art
To make her take it, and by death conclude
My last revenge. You have the fatal story.
King. This is so great a wickedness, it will
Exceed belief.
Car. I knew I could not live.
Surg. Your wounds, sir, were not desperate.
Car. Not mortal? Ha! were they not mortal?
Surg. If I have skill in surgery.
Car. Then I have caught myself in my own engine.
2nd Lord. It was your fate, you said, to die by poison.
Car. That was my own prediction, to abuse
Your faith; no human art can now resist it:
I feel it knocking at the seat of life;
It must come in; I have wrecked all my own,
To try your charities: now it would be rare,—
If you but waft me with a little prayer;
My wings that flag may catch the wind; but 'tis
In vain, the mist is risen, and there's none
To steer my wandering bark. [Dies.
1st Lord. He's dead.
King. With him
Die all deceivèd trust.
2nd Lord. This was a strange impiety.
King. When men
Of gifts and sacred function once decline
From virtue, their ill deeds transcend example.
Duch. The minute's come that I must take my leave, too.
Your hand, great sir; and though you be a king,
We may exchange forgiveness. Heaven forgive you,
And all the world! I come, I come, Alvarez. [Dies.
King. Dispose their bodies for becoming funeral.
How much are kings abused by those they take
To royal grace, whom, when they cherish most
By nice indulgence, they do often arm
Against themselves! from whence this maxim springs:
None have more need of perspectives than kings.
[Exeunt.
EPILOGUE.
[Within.] Master Pollard! where's Master Pollard, for the epilogue?
[He is thrust upon the stage, and falls.
Epi. [Rising.] I am coming to you, gentlemen; the poet
Has helped me thus far on my way, but I'll
Be even with him: the play is a tragedy,
The first that ever he composed for us,
Wherein he thinks he has done prettily,
Enter Servant.
And I am sensible.—I prithee look,
Is nothing out of joint? has he broke nothing?
Serv. No, sir, I hope.
Epi. Yes, he has broke his epilogue all to pieces.
Canst thou put it together again?
Serv. Not I, sir.
Epi. Not I; prithee be gone. [Exit Serv.]—Hum!—
Master poet,
I have a teeming mind to be revenged.—
You may assist, and not be seen in't now,
If you please, gentlemen, for I do know
He listens to the issue of his cause;
But blister not your hands in his applause;
Your private smile, your nod, or hem! to tell
My fellows that you like the business well;
And when, without a clap, you go away,
I'll drink a small-beer health to his second day;
And break his heart, or make him swear and rage,
He'll write no more for the unhappy stage.
But that's too much; so we should lose; faith, shew it,
And if you like his play, 'tis as well he knew it.
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