Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE GREAT DUKE OF FLORENCE, by PHILIP MASSINGER

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE GREAT DUKE OF FLORENCE, by PHILIP MASSINGER Poet's Biography
First Line: You bring your welcome with you
Last Line: That can in compass of our wishes fall. [exeunt.

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ

COZIMO, Duke of Florence.
GIOVANNI, Nephew of the Duke.
SANAZARRO, the Duke's Favourite.
CAROLO CHAROMONTE, GIOVANNI'S Tutor.
CONTARINO, Secretary to the Duke.
ALPHONSO, Councillor of State.
HIPPOLITO, Councillor of State.
HIERONIMO, Councillor of State.
CALANDRINO, a merry fellow, Servant to GIOVANNI.
BERNARDO, Servant to CHAROMONTE.
CAPONI, Servant to CHAROMONTE.
PETRUCHIO, Servant to CHAROMONTE.
A Gentleman.

FIORINDA, Duchess of Urbin.
LIDIA, Daughter of CHAROMONTE.
CALAMINTA, Servant to FIORINDA.
PETRONELLA, a foolish Servant to LIDIA.

Attendants, Servants, &c.

SCENE.—Partly in Florence, and partly at the residence of
CHAROMONTE in the country.

ACT THE FIRST.

SCENE I.—The Country. A Room in CHAROMONTE'S House.

Enter CHAROMONTE and CONTARINO.

CHAR. You bring your welcome with you.
Cont. Sir, I find it
In every circumstance,
Char. Again most welcome.
Yet, give me leave to wish (and pray born with) you, excuse me,
For I must use the freedom I was
The Great Duke's pleasure had commanded you
To my poor house upon some other service,
Not this you are designed to: but his will
Must be obeyed, howe'er it ravish from me
The happy conversation of one
As dear to me as the old Romans held
Their household Lars, whom they believed had power
To bless and guard their families.
Cont. 'Tis received so
On my part, signior; nor can the duke
But promise to himself as much as may
Be hoped for from a nephew. And 'twere weakness
In any man to doubt that Giovanni,
Trained up by your experience and care
In all those arts peculiar and proper
To future greatness, of necessity
Must in his actions, being grown a man,
Make good the princely education
Which he derived from you.
Char. I have discharged,
To the utmost of my power, the trust the duke
Committed to me, and with joy perceive
The seed of my endeavours was not sown
Upon the barren sands but fruitful glebe,
Which yields a large increase: my noble charge,
By his sharp wit and pregnant apprehension,
Instructing those that teach him; making use,
Not in a vulgar and pedantic form,
Of what's read to him, but 'tis straight digested,
And truly made his own. His grave discourse,
In one no more indebted unto years,
Amazes such as hear him: horsemanship,
And skill to use his weapon, are by practice
Familiar to him: as for knowledge in
Music, he needs it not, it being born with him;
All that he speaks being with such grace delivered
That it makes perfect harmony.
Cont. You describe
A wonder to me.
Char. Sir, he is no less;
And that there may be nothing wanting that
May render him complete, the sweetness of
His disposition so wins on all
Appointed to attend him, that they are
Rivals, even in the coarsest office, who
Shall get precedency to do him service;
Which they esteem a greater happiness,
Than if they had been fashioned and built up
To hold command o'er others.
Cont. And what place
Does he now bless with his presence?
Char. He is now
Running at the ring, at which he is excellent.
He does allot for every exercise
A several hour: for sloth, the nurse of vices,
And rust of action, is a stranger to him.
But I fear I am tedious, let us pass,
If you please, to some other subject, though I cannot
Deliver him as he deserves.
Cont. You have given him
A noble character.
Char. And how, I pray you,
(For we, that never look beyond our villas,
Must be inquisitive,) are state affairs
Carried in court?
Cont. There's little alteration:
Some rise, and others fall, as it stands with
The pleasure of the duke, their great disposer.
Char. Does Lodovico Sanazarro hold
Weight and grace with him?
Cont. Every day new honours
Are showered upon him, and without the envy
Of such as are good men; since all confess
The service done our master in his wars
'Gainst Pisa and Sienna may with justice
Claim what's conferred upon him.
Char. 'Tis said nobly;
For princes never more make known their wisdom
Than when they cherish goodness where they find it:
They being men, and not gods, Contarino,
They can give wealth and titles, but no virtues:
That is without their power. When they advance,
Not out of judgment, but deceiving fancy,
An undeserving man, howe'er set off
With all the trim of greatness, state, and power,
And of a creature even grown terrible
To him from whom he took his giant form,
This thing is still a comet, no true star;
And, when the bounties feeding his false fire
Begin to fail, will of itself go out,
And what was dreadful proves ridiculous.
But in our Sanazarro 'tis not so,
He being pure and tried gold; and any stamp
Of grace, to make him current to the world,
The duke is pleased to give him, will add honour
To the great bestower; for he, though allowed
Companion to his master, still preserves
His majesty in full lustre.
Cont. He, indeed,
At no part does take from it, but becomes
A partner of his cares, and eases him,
With willing shoulders, of a burthen which
He should alone sustain.
Char. Is he yet married?
Cont. No, signior, still a bachelor; howe'er
It is apparent that the choicest virgin
For beauty, bravery, and wealth, in Florence,
Would, with her parents' glad consent, be won,
Were his affection and intent but known,
To be at his devotion.
Char. So I think too.
But break we off—here comes my princely charge.

Enter GIOVANNI and CALANDRINO.

Make your approaches boldly; you will find
A courteous entertainment. [CONTARION kneels.
Giov. Pray you, forbear
My hand, good signior; 'tis a ceremony
Not due to me. 'Tis fit we should embrace
With mutual arms.
Cont. It is a favour, sir,
I grieve to be denied.
Giov. You shall o'ercome:
But 'tis your pleasure, not my pride, that grants it.
Nay, pray you, guardian, and good sir, put on:
How ill it shews to have that reverend head
Uncovered to a boy!
Char. Your excellence
Must give me liberty to observe the distance
And duty that I owe you.
Giov. Owe me duty!
I do profess (and when I do deny it,
Good fortune leave me!) you have been to me
A second father, and may justly challenge,
For training up my youth in arts and arms,
As much respect and service as was due
To him that gave me life. And did you know, sir,
Or will believe from me, how many sleeps
Good Charamonte hath broken in his care
To build me up a man, you must confess
Chiron, the tutor to the great Achilles,
Compared with him, deserves not to be named,
And if my gracious uncle, the Great Duke,
Still holds me worthy his consideration,
Or finds in me aught worthy to be loved,
That little rivulet flowed from this spring;
And so from me report him.
Cont. Fame already
Hath filled his highness' ears with the true story
Of what you are, and how much bettered by him.
And 'tis his purpose to reward the travail
Of this grave sir, with a magnificent hand.
For, though his tenderness hardly could consent
To have you one hour absent from his sight,
For full three years he did deny himself
The pleasure he took in you, that you, here,
From this great master, might arrive unto
The theory of those high mysteries
Which you, by action, must make plain in court.
'Tis, therefore, his request, (and that, from him,
Your Excellence must grant a strict command,)
That instantly (it being not five hours riding)
You should take horse and visit him. These his letters
Will yield you further reasons. [Delivers a packet.
Cal. To the court!
Farewell the flower, then, of the country's garland.
This is our sun, and when he's set, we must not
Expect or spring or summer, but resolve
For a perpetual winter.
Char. Pray you, observe
[GIOVANNI reading the letters.
The frequent changes in his face.
Cont. As if
His much unwillingness to leave your house
Contended with his duty.
Char. Now he appears
Collected and resolved.
Giov. It is the duke!
The duke, upon whose favour all my hopes
And fortunes do depend. Nor must I check
At his commands for any private motives
That do invite my stay here, though they are
Almost not to be mastered. My obedience,
In my departing suddenly, shall confirm
I am his highness' creature; yet, I hope
A little stay to take a solemn farewell
Of all those ravishing pleasures I have tasted
In this my sweet retirement, from my guardian,
And his incomparable daughter, cannot meet
An ill construction.
Cont. I will answer that:
Use your own will.
Giov. I would speak to you, sir,
In such a phrase as might express the thanks
My heart would gladly pay; but_____
Char. I conceive you:
And something I would say; but I must not do it
In that dumb rhetoric which you make use of;
For I do wish you all_____I know not how,
My toughness melts, and, spite of my discretion,
I must turn woman. [Embraces GIOVANNI.
Cont. What a sympathy
There is between them!
Cal. Were I on the rack,
I could not shed a tear. But I am mad,
And, ten to one, shall hang myself for sorrow,
Before I shift my shirt. But hear you, sir,
(I'll separate you,) when you are gone, what will
Become of me?
Giov. Why, thou shalt to court with me.
[Takes CHAROMONTE aside.
Cal. To see you worried?
Cont. Worried, Calandrino!
Cal. Yes, sir: for, bring this sweet face to the court,
There will be such a longing 'mong the madams,
Who shall engross it first, nay, fight and scratch for't,
That, if they be not stopped, for entertainment
They'll kiss his lips off. Nay, if you'll scape so,
And not be tempted to a further danger,
These succubæ are so sharp set, that you must
Give out you are an eunuch.
Cont. Have a better
Opinion of court-ladies, and take care
Of your own stake.
Cal. For my stake, 'tis past caring.
I would not have a bird of unclean feathers
Handsel his lime twig,—and so much for him:
There's something else that troubles me.
Cont. What's that?
Cal. Why, how to behave myself in court, and tightly.
I have been told the very place transforms men,
And that not one of a thousand, that before
Lived honestly in the country on plain salads,
But bring him thither, mark me that, and feed him
But a month or two with custards and court cake-bread,
And he turns knave immediately.—I'd be honest;
But I must follow the fashion, or die a beggar.
Giov. [To CHAR.] And, if I ever reach my hopes, believe it,
We will share fortunes.
Char. This acknowledgment
Binds me your debtor ever.

Enter LIDIA.

Here comes one
In whose sad looks you easily may read
What her heart suffers, in that she is forced
To take her last leave of you.
Cont. As I live,
A beauty without parallel!
Lid. Must you go, then,
So suddenly?
Giov. There's no evasion, Lidia,
To gain the least delay, though I would buy it
At any rate. Greatness, with private men
Esteemed a blessing, is to me a curse;
And we whom, for our high births, they conclude
The only freemen, are the only slaves.
Happy the golden mean! had I been born
In a poor sordid cottage, not nursed up
With expectation to command a court,
I might, like such of your condition, sweetest,
Have ta'en a safe and middle course, and not,
As I am now, against my choice, compelled
Or to lie grovelling on the earth or raised
So high upon the pinnacles of state,
That I must either keep my height with danger,
Or fall with certain ruin.
Lid. Your own goodness
Will be your faithful guard.
Giov. O, Lidia!_____
Cont. So passionate! [Aside.
Giov. For, had I been your equal,
I might have seen and liked with mine own eyes,
And not, as now, with others; I might still,
And without observation, or envy,
As I have done, continued my delights
With you, that are alone, in my esteem,
The abstract of society: we might walk
In solitary groves, or in choice gardens;
From the variety of curious flowers
Contemplate nature's workmanship, and wonders:
And then, for change, near to the murmur of
Some bubbling fountain, I might hear you sing,
And, from the well-tuned accents of your tongue,
In my imagination conceive
With what melodious harmony a quire
Of angels sing above their Maker's praises.
And then with chaste discourse, as we returned,
Imp feathers to the broken wings of Time:—
And all this I must part from.
Cont. You forget
The haste imposed upon us.
Giov. One word more,
And then I come. And after this, when, with
Continued innocence of love and service,
I had grown ripe for Hymeneal joys,
Embracing you, but with a lawful flame,
I might have been your husband.
Lid. Sir, I was,
And ever am, your servant: but it was,
And 'tis, far from me in a thought to cherish
Such saucy hopes. If I had been the heir
Of all the globes and sceptres mankind bows to,
At my best you had deserved me; as I am,
Howe'er unworthy, in my virgin zeal
I wish you, as a partner of your bed,
A princess equal to you; such a one
That may make it the study of her life,
With all the obedience of a wife, to please you.
May you have happy issue, and I live
To be their humblest handmaid!
Giov. I am dumb,
And can make no reply.
Cont. Your excellence
Will be benighted.
Giov. This kiss, bathed in tears,
May learn you what I should say.
Lid. Give me leave
To wait on you to your horse.
Char. And me to bring you
To the one half of your journey.
Giov. Your love puts
Your age to too much trouble.
Char. I grow young,
When most I serve you.
Cont. Sir, the duke shall thank you. [Exeunt.

SCENE II.—Florence. A Room in the Palace.

Enter ALPHONSO, HIPPOLITO, and HIERONIMO.

Alph. His highness cannot take it ill.
Hip. However,
We with our duties shall express our care
For the safety of his dukedom.
Hier. And our loves

Enter COZIMO.

To his person.—Here be comes: present it boldly.
[They kneel, ALPHONSO tenders a paper.
Coz. What needs this form? We are not grown so proud
As to disdain familiar conference
With such as are to counsel and direct us.
This kind of adoration showed not well
In the old Roman emperors, who, forgetting
That they were flesh and blood, would be styled gods:
In us to suffer it, were worse. Pray you, rise. [Reads.
Still the old suit! With too much curiousness
You have too often searched this wound, which yields
Security and rest, not trouble to me.
For here you grieve, that my firm resolution
Continues me a widower, and that
My want of issue to succeed me in
My government, when I am dead, may breed
Distraction in the state, and make the name
And family of the Medici, now admired,
Contemptible.
Hip. And with strong reasons, sir.
Alph. For, were you old, and past hope to beget
The model of yourself, we should be silent.
Hier. But, being in your height and pride of years,
As you are now, great sir, and having, too,
In your possession the daughter of
The deceased Duke of Urbin, and his heir,
Whose guardian you are made; were you but pleased
To think her worthy of you, besides children,
The dukedom she brings with her for a dower
Will yield a large increase of strength and power
To those fair territories which already
Acknowledge you their absolute lord.
Coz. You press us
With solid arguments, we grant; and, though
We stand not bound to yield account to any
Why we do this or that, (the full consent
Of our subjects being included in our will,)
We, out of our free bounties, will deliver
The motives that divert us. You well know
That, three years since, to our much grief, we lost
Our duchess; such a duchess, that the world,
In her whole course of life, yields not a lady
That can with imitation deserve
To be her second: in her grave we buried
All thoughts of woman: let this satisfy
For any second marriage. Now, whereas
You name the heir of Urbin, as a princess
Of great revenues, 'tis confessed she is so:
But for some causes private to ourself,
We have disposed her otherwise. Yet despair not;
For you, ere long, with joy shall understand
That in our princely care we have provided
One worthy to succeed us.
Hip. We submit,
And hold the counsels of great Cozimo
Oraculous.

Enter SANAZARRO.

Coz. My Sanazarro!—Nay,
Forbear all ceremony. You look sprightly, friend,
And promise in your clear aspect some novel
That may delight us.
Sanaz. O sir, I would not be
The harbinger of aught that might distaste you:
And therefore know (for 'twere a sin to torture
Your highness' expectation) your vice-admiral,
By my directions, hath surprised the galleys
Appointed to transport the Asian tribute
Of the great Turk; a richer prize was never
Brought into Florence.
Coz. Still my nightingale,
That with sweet accents dost assure me that
My spring of happiness comes fast upon me!
Embrace me boldly. I pronounce that wretch
An enemy to brave and thriving action,
That dares believe but in a thought, we are
Too prodigal in our favours to this man,
Whose merits, though with him we should divide
Our dukedom, still continue us his debtor.
Hip. 'Tis far from me.
Alph. We all applaud it.
Coz. Nay, blush not, Sanazarro, we are proud
Of what we build up in thee; nor can our
Election be disparaged, since we have not
Received into our bosom and our grace
A glorious lazy drone, grown fat with feeding
On others' toil, but an industrious bee,
That crops the sweet flowers of our enemies,
And every happy evening returns
Loaden with wax and honey to our hive.
Sanaz. My best endeavours never can discharge
The service I should pay.
Coz. Thou art too modest;
But we will study how to give, and when,
Before it be demanded.

Enter GIOVANNI and CONTARINO.

Giovanni!
My nephew! let me eye thee better, boy.
In thee, methinks, my sister lives again;
For her love I will be a father to thee,
For thou art my adopted son.
Giov. Your servant,
And humblest subject.
Coz. Thy hard travel, nephew,
Requires soft rest, and therefore we forbear,
For the present, an account how thou hast spent
Thy absent hours. See, signiors, see, our care,
Without a second bed, provides you of
A hopeful prince. Carry him to his lodgings,
And, for his further honour, Sanazarro,
With the rest, do you attend him.
Giov. All true pleasures
Circle your highness!
Sanaz. As the rising sun,
We do receive you.
Giov. May this never set,
But shine upon you ever!
[Exeunt GIOVANNI, SANAZARRO, HIERONIMO, ALPHONSO, and
HIPPOLITO.
Coz. Contarino!
Cont. My gracious lord.
Coz. What entertainment found you
From Carolo de Charomonte?
Cont. Free,
And bountiful. He's ever like himself,
Noble and hospitable.
Coz. But did my nephew
Depart thence willingly?
Cont. He obeyed your summons
As did become him. Yet it was apparent,
But that he durst not cross your will, he would
Have sojourned longer there, he ever finding
Variety of sweetest entertainment.
But there was something else; nor can I blame
His youth, though with some trouble he took leave
Of such a sweet companion.
Coz. Who was it?
Cont. The daughter, sir, of Signior Carolo,
Fair Lidia, a virgin, at all parts,
But in her birth and fortunes, equal to him.
The rarest beauties Italy can make boast of
Are but mere shadows to her, she the substance
Of all perfection. And what increases
The wonder, sir, her body's matchless form
Is bettered by the pureness of her soul.
Such sweet discourse, such ravishing behavour,
Such charming language, such enchanting manners,
With a simplicity that shames all courtship,
Flow hourly from her, that I do believe
Had Circe or Calypso her sweet graces,
Wandering Ulysses never had remembered
Penelope, or Ithaca.
Coz. Be not rapt so.
Cont. Your Excellence would be so, had you seen her.
Coz. Take up, take up.—But did your observation
Note any passage of affection
Between her and my nephew?
Cont. How it should
Be otherwise between them, is beyond
My best imagination. Cupid's arrows
Were useless there; for, of necessity.
Their years and dispositions do accord so,
They must wound one another.
Coz. Umph! Thou art
My secretary, Contarino, and more skilled
In politic designs of state, than in
Thy judgment of a beauty; give me leave,
In this, to doubt it.—Here. Go to my cabinet,
You shall find there letters newly received,
Touching the state of Urbin.
Pray you, with care peruse them: leave the search
Of this to us.
Cont. I do obey in all things. [Exit.
Coz. Lidia! a diamond so long concealed.
And never worn in court! of such sweet feature!
And he on whom I fix my dukedom's hopes
Made captive to it! Umph! 'tis somewhat strange.
Our eyes are everywhere, and we will make
A strict inquiry.—Sanazarro!

Re-enter SANAZARRO.

Sanaz. Sir.
Coz. Is my nephew at his rest?
Sanaz. I saw him in bed, sir.
Coz. 'Tis well; and does the Princess Fiorinda—
Nay, do not blush, she is rich Urbin's heir—
Continue constant in her favours to you?
Sanaz. Dread sir, she may dispense them as she pleases,
But I look up to her as on a princess
I dare not be ambitious of, and hope
Her prodigal graces shall not render me
Offender to your highness.
Coz. Not a scruple.
He whom I favour, as I do my friend,
May take all lawful graces that become him:
But touching this hereafter. I have now
(And though perhaps it may appear a trifle)
Serious employment for thee.
Sanaz. I stand ready
For any act you please.
Coz. I know it, friend.
Have you ne'er heard of Lidia, the daughter
Of Carolo Charomonte?
Sanaz. Him I know, sir,
For a noble gentleman, and my worthy friend;
But never heard of her.
Coz. She is delivered,
And feelingly, to us by Contarino,
For a masterpiece in nature. I would have you
Ride suddenly thither to behold this wonder,
But not as sent by us; that's our first caution:
The second is, and carefully observe it,
That, though you are a bachelor, and endowed with
All those perfections that may take a virgin,
On forfeit of our favour do not tempt her:
It may be her fair graces do concern us.
Pretend what business you think fit, to gain
Access unto her father's house, and there
Make full discovery of her, and return me
A true relation: I have some ends in it,
With which we will acquaint you.
Sanaz. This is, sir,
An easy task.
Coz. Yet one that must exact
Your secrecy and diligence. Let not
Your stay be long.
Sanaz. It shall not, sir.
Coz. Farewell,
And be, as you would keep our favour, careful. [Exeunt.

ACT THE SECOND.

SCENE I.—The same. A Room in FIORINDA'S House.

Enter FIORINDA and CALAMINTA.

FIOR. How does this dressing shew?
Calam. 'Tis of itself
Curious and rare, but, borrowing ornament
As it does from your grace that deigns to wear it,
Incomparable.
Fior. Thou flatter'st me.
Calam. I cannot,
Your excellence is above it.
Fior. Were we less perfect,
Yet, being as we are, an absolute princess,
We of necessity must be chaste, wise, fair,
By our prerogative: yet all these fail
To move where I would have them. How received
Count Sanazarro the rich scarf I sent him
For his last visit?
Calam. With much reverence,
I dare not say affection. He expressed
More ceremony in his humble thanks
Than feeling of the favour; and appeared
Wilfully ignorant, in my opinion,
Of what it did invite him to.
Fior. No matter;
He's blind with too much light. Have you not heard
Of any private mistress he's engaged to?
Calam. Not any; and this does amaze me, madam,
That he, a soldier, one that drinks rich wines,
Feeds high, and promises as much as Venus
Could wish to find from Mars, should in his manners
Be so averse to women.
Fior. Troth, I know not;
He's man enough, and, if he has a haunt,
He preys, far off, like a subtle fox.
Calam. And that way
I do suspect him: for I learnt last night,
When the Great Duke went to rest, attended by
One private follower, he took horse; but whither
He's rid, or to what end, I cannot guess at,
But I will find it out.
Fior. Do, faithful servant;
We would not be abused.

Enter CALANDRINO.

Who have we here?
Calam. How the fool stares!
Fior. And looks as if he were
Conning his neck-verse.
Cal. If I now prove perfect
In my A B C of courtship, Calandrino
Is made for ever. I am sent—let me see,
On a "How d'ye," as they call't.
Calam. What wouldst thou say?
Cal. Let me see my notes. These are her lodgings; well.
Calam. Art thou an ass?
Cal. Peace! thou art a court wagtail,
[Looking on his instructions.
To interrupt me.
Fior. He has given it you.
Cal. "And then say to the illustrious Fi-o-rin-da—"
I have it. Which is she?
Calam. Why this; fop-doodle.
Cal. Leave chattering, bullfinch; you would put me out,
But 'twill not do.—"Then, after you have made
Your three obeisances to her, kneel and kiss
The skirt of her gown."—I am glad it is no worse.
Calam. And why so, sir?
Cal. Because I was afraid
That, after the Italian garb, I should
Have kissed her backward.
Calam. This is sport unlooked for.
Cal. Are you the princess?
Fior. Yes, sir.
Cal. Then stand fair,
For I am choleric; and do not nip
A hopeful blossom. Out again:—"Three low obeisances.—"
Fior. I am ready.
Cal. I come on, then.
Calam. With much formality.
Cal. Umph! One, two, three. [Makes antic curtsies.
Thus far I am right. Now for the last.
[Kisses the skirt of her gown.]—O, rare!
She is perfumed all over! Sure great women,
Instead of little dogs, are privileged
To carry musk-cats.
Fior. Now the ceremony
Is passed, what is the substance?
Cal. I'll peruse
My instructions, and then tell you.—"Her skirt kissed,
Inform her highness that your lord"_____
Calam. Who's that?
Cal. Prince Giovanni, who entreats your grace,
That he, with your good favour, may have leave
To present his service to you. I think I have nicked it
For a courtier of the first form.
Fior. To my wonder.

Enter GIOVANNI and a Gentleman.

Return unto the prince—but he prevents
My answer. Calaminta, take him off;
And, for the neat delivery of his message,
Give him ten ducats: such rare parts as yours
Are to be cherished.
Cal. We will share: I know
It is the custom of the court, when ten
Are promised, five is fair. Fie! fie! the princess
Shall never know it, so you dispatch me quickly,
And bid me not come to-morrow.
Calam. Very good, sir.
[Exeunt CALANDRINO and CALAMINTA.
Giov. Pray you, friend,
Inform the duke I am putting into act
What he commanded.
Gent. I am proud to be employed, sir. [Exit.
Giov. Madam, that without warrant I presume
To trench upon your privacies, may argue
Rudeness of manners; but the free access
Your princely courtesy vouchsafes to all
That come to pay their services, gives me hope
To find a gracious pardon.
Fior. If you please, not
To make that an offence in your construction
Which I receive as a large favour from you,
There needs not this apology.
Giov. You continue,
As you were ever, the greatest mistress of
Fair entertainment.
Fior. You are, sir, the master;
And in the country have learnt to outdo
All that in court is practised. But why should we
Talk at such distance? You are welcome, sir.
We have been more familiar, and since
You will impose the province (you should govern)
Of boldness on me, give me leave to say
You are too punctual. Sit, sir, and discourse
As we were used.
Giov. Your excellence knows so well
How to command, that I can never err
When I obey you.
Fior. Nay, no more of this.
You shall o'ercome; no more, I pray you, sir.—
And what delights, pray you be liberal
In your relation, hath the country life
Afforded you?
Giov. All pleasures, gracious madam,
But the happiness to converse with your sweet virtues.
I had a grave instructor, and my hours
Designed to serious studies yielded me
Pleasure with profit in the knowledge of
What before I was ignorant in; the Signior,
Carolo de Charomonte, being skilful
To guide me through the labyrinth of wild passions,
That laboured to imprison my free soul
A slave to vicious sloth.
Fior. You speak him well.
Giov. But short of his deserts. Then for the time
Of recreation, I was allowed
(Against the form followed by jealous parents
In Italy) full liberty to partake
His daughter's sweet society. She's a virgin
Happy in all endowments which a poet
Could fancy in his mistress; being herself
A school of goodness where chaste maids may learn,
Without the aid of foreign principles,
By the example of her life and pureness,
To be as she is, excellent. I but give you
A brief epitome of her virtues, which,
Dilated on at large, and to their merit,
Would make an ample story.
Fior. Your whole age,
So spent with such a father, and a daughter,
Could not be tedious to you.
Giov. True, great princess:
And now, since you have pleased to grant the hearing
Of my time's expense in the country, give me leave
To entreat the favour to be made acquainted
What service, or what objects in the court,
Have, in your excellency's acceptance, proved
Most gracious to you.
Fior. I'll meet your demand,
And make a plain discovery. The duke's care
For my estate and person holds the first
And choicest place: then, the respect the courtiers
Pay gladly to me, not to be contemned.
But that which raised in me the most delight,
(For I am a friend to valour,) was to hear
The noble actions truly reported
Of the brave Count Sanazarro. I profess
When it hath been, and fervently, delivered,
How boldly, in the horror of a fight,
Covered with fire and smoke, and, as if nature
Had lent him wings, like lightning he hath fallen
Upon the Turkish galleys, I have heard it
With a kind of pleasure which hath whispered to me,
This worthy must be cherished.
Giov. 'Twas a bounty
You never can repent.
Fior. I glory in it.
And when he did return, (but still with conquest,)
His armour off, not young Antinous
Appeared more courtly; all the graces that
Render a man's society dear to ladies,
Like pages waiting on him; and it does
Work strangely on me.
Giov. To divert your thoughts,
Though they are fixed upon a noble subject,
I am a suitor to you.
Fior. You will ask,
I do presume, what I may grant, and then
It must not be denied.
Giov. It is a favour
For which I hope your excellence will thank me.
Fior. Nay, without circumstance.
Giov. That you would please
To take occasion to move the duke,
That you, with his allowance, may command
This matchless virgin, Lidia, (of whom
I cannot speak too much,) to wait upon you.
She's such a one, upon the forfeit of
Your good opinion of me, that will not
Be a blemish to your train.
Fior. 'Tis rank, he loves her!
But I will fit him with a suit. [Aside.]—I pause not,
As if it bred or doubt or scruple in me
To do what you desire, for I'll effect it,
And make use of a fair and fit occasion;
Yet, in return, I ask a boon of you,
And hope to find you, in your grant to me,
As I have been to you.
Giov. Command me, madam.
Fior. 'Tis near allied to yours. That you would be
A suitor to the duke, not to expose,
After so many trials of his faith,
The noble Sanazarro to all dangers,
As if he were a wall to stand the fury
Of a perpetual battery: but now
To grant him, after his long labours, rest
And liberty to live in court; his arms
And his victorious sword and shield hung up
For monuments.
Giov. Umph!—I'll embrace, fair princess,
The soonest opportunity.

Enter COZIMO.

The duke!
Coz. Nay, blush not; we smile on your privacy,
And come not to disturb you. You are equals,
And, without prejudice to either's honours,
May make a mutual change of love and courtship,
Till you are made one, and with holy rites,
And we give suffrage to it.
Giov. You are gracious.
Coz. To ourself in this: but now break off; too much
Taken at once of the most curious viands,
Dulls the sharp edge of appetite. We are now
For other sports, in which our pleasure is
That you shall keep us company.
Fior. We attend you. [Exeunt.

SCENE II.—The Country. A Hall in CHAROMONTE'S House.

Enter BERNARDO, CAPONI, and PETRUCHIO.

Bern. Is my lord stirring?
Cap. No; he's fast.
Pet. Let us take, then,
Our morning draught. Such as eat store of beef,
Mutton, and capons, may preserve their healths
With that thin composition called small beer,
As, 'tis said, they do in England. But Italians,
That think when they have supped upon an olive,
A root, or bunch of raisins, 'tis a feast,
Must kill those crudities rising from cold herbs
With hot and lusty wines.
Cap. A happiness
Those tramontanes ne'er tasted.
Bern. Have they not
Store of wine there?
Cap. Yes, and drink more in two hours
Than the Dutchmen or the Dane in four and twenty.
Pet. But what is't? French trash, made of rotten grapes,
And dregs and lees of Spain, with Welsh metheglin,
A drench to kill a horse! But this pure nectar,
Being proper to our climate, is too fine
To brook the roughness of the sea; the spirit
Of this begets in us quick apprehensions,
And active executions; whereas their
Gross feeding makes their understanding like it:
They can fight, and that's their all. [They drink.

Enter SANAZARRO and Servant.

Sanaz. Security
Dwells about this house, I think; the gate's wide open,
And not a servant stirring. See the horses
Set up, and clothed.
Serv. I shall, sir. [Exit.
Sanaz. I'll make bold
To press a little further.
Bern. Who is this,
Count Sanazarro?
Pet. Yes, I know him. Quickly
Remove the flagon.
Sanaz. A good day to you, friends.
Nay, do not conceal your physic; I approve it,
And, if you please, will be a patient with you.
Pet. My noble lord. [Drinks.
Sanaz. A health to yours. [Drinks.] Well done!
I see you love yourselves, and I commend you;
'Tis the best wisdom.
Pet. May it please your honour
To walk a turn in the gallery, I'll acquaint
My lord with your being here. [Exit.
Sanaz. Tell him I come
For a visit only. 'Tis a handsome pile this. [Exit.
Cap. Why here is a brave fellow, and a right one;
Nor wealth nor greatness makes him proud.
Bern. There are
Too few of them; for most of our new courtiers,
(Whose fathers were familiar with the prices
Of oil and corn, with when and where to vent them,
And left their heirs rich, from their knowledge that way,)
Like gourds shot up in a night, disdain to speak
But to cloth of tissue.

Enter CHAROMONTE in a nightgown, PETRUCHIO following.

Char. Stand, you prating knaves,
When such a guest is under my roof! See all
The rooms perfumed. This is the man that carries
The sway and swing of the court; and I had rather
Preserve him mine with honest offices, than_____
But I'll make no comparisons. Bid my daughter
Trim herself up to the height; I know this courtier
Must have a smack at her; and, perhaps, by his place,
Expects to wriggle further; if he does,
I shall deceive his hopes; for I'll not taint
My honour for the dukedom. Which way went he?
Cap. To the round gallery.
Char. I will entertain him
As fits his worth and quality, but no further. [Exeunt.

SCENE III.—A Gallery in the same.

Enter SANAZARRO.

Sanaz. I cannot apprehend, yet I have argued
All ways I can imagine, for what reasons
The Great Duke does employ me hither; and,
What does increase the miracle, I must render
A strict and true account, at my return,
Of Lidia, this lord's daughter, and describe
In what she's excellent, and where defective.
'Tis a hard task: he that will undergo
To make a judgment of a woman's beauty,
And see through all her plasterings and paintings,
Had need of Lynceus' eyes, and with more ease
May look, like him, through nine mud walls, than make
A true discovery of her. But the intents
And secrets of my prince's heart must be
Served, and not searched into.

Enter CHAROMONTE.

Char. Most noble sir,
Excuse my age, subject to ease and sloth,
That with no greater speed I have presented
My service with your welcome.
Sanaz. 'Tis more fit
That I should ask your pardon, for disturbing
Your rest at this unseasonable hour.
But my occasions carry me so near
Your hospitable house, my stay being short too,
Your goodness, and the name of friend, which you
Are pleased to grace me with, gave me assurance
A visit would not offend.
Char. Offend, my lord!
I feel myself much younger for the favour.
How is it with our gracious master?
Sanaz. He, sir,
Holds still his wonted greatness, and confesses
Himself your debtor, for your love and care
To the Prince Giovanni; and had sent
Particular thanks by me, had his grace known
The quick dispatch of what I was designed to
Would have licensed me to see you.
Char. I am rich
In his acknowledgment.
Sanaz. Sir, I have heard
Your happiness in a daughter.
Char. Sits the wind there? [Aside.
Sanaz. Fame gives her out for a rare masterpiece.
Char. 'Tis a plain village girl, sir, but obedient;
That's her best beauty, sir.
Sanaz. Let my desire
To see her, find a fair construction from you;
I bring no loose thought with me.
Char. You are that way,
My lord, free from suspicion. Her own manners,
Without an imposition from me,
I hope, will prompt her to it.

Enter LIDIA and PETRONELLA.

As she is,
She comes to make a tender of that service
Which she stands bound to pay.
Sanaz. With your fair leave,
I make bold to salute you.
Lid. Sir, you have it.
Petron. I am her gentlewoman, will he not kiss me too?
This is coarse, i'faith. [Aside.
Char. How he falls off!
Lid. My lord, though silence best becomes a maid,
And to be curious to know but what
Concerns myself, and with becoming distance,
May argue me of boldness, I must borrow
So much of modesty, as to inquire
Prince Giovanni's health.
Sanaz. He cannot want
What you are pleased to wish him.
Lid. Would 'twere so!
And then there is no blessing that can make
A hopeful and a noble prince complete,
But should fall on him. O! he was our north star,
The light and pleasure of our eyes.
Sanaz. Where am I?
I feel myself another thing! Can charms
Be writ on such pure rubies? her lips melt
As soon as touched! Not those smooth gales that glide
O'er happy Araby or rich Sabæa,
Creating in their passage gums and spices,
Can serve for a weak simile to express
The sweetness of her breath. Such a brave stature
Homer bestowed on Pallas, every limb
Proportioned to it!
Char. This is strange.—My lord!
Sanaz. I crave your pardon, and yours, matchless maid,
For such I must report you.
Petron. There's no notice
Taken all this while of me. [Aside.
Sanaz. And I must add,
If your discourse and reason parallel
The rareness of your more than human form,
You are a wonder.
Char. Pray you, my lord, make trial:
She can speak, I can assure you; and that my presence
May not take from her freedom, I will leave you:
For know, my lord, my confidence dares trust her
Where, and with whom, she pleases._____If he be
Taken the right way with her, I cannot fancy
A better match; and, for false play, I know
The tricks, and can discern them.—Petronella!
Petron. Yes, my good lord.
Char. I have employment for you.
[Exeunt CHAROMONTE and PETRONELLA.
Lid. What's your will, sir?
Sanaz. Madam, you are so large a theme to treat of,
And every grace about you offers to me
Such copiousness of language, that I stand
Doubtful which first to touch at. If I err,
As in my choice I may, let me entreat you,
Before I do offend, to sign my pardon:
Let this the emblem of your innocence,
Give me assurance.
Lid. My hand joined to yours,
Without this superstition, confirms it.
Nor need I fear you will dwell long upon me,
The barrenness of the subject yielding nothing
That rhetoric, with all her tropes and figures,
Can amplify. Yet since you are resolved
To prove yourself a courtier in my praise,
As I'm a woman (and you men affirm
Our sex loves to be flattered) I'll endure it.

Enter CHAROMONTE above.

Now, when you please, begin.
Sanaz [turning from her.] Such Leda's paps were,—
Down pillows styled by Jove,—and their pure whiteness
Shames the swan's down, or snow. No heat of lust
Swells up her azure veins: and yet I feel
That this chaste ice but touched fans fire in me. [Aside.
Lid. You need not, noble sir, be thus transported,
Or trouble your invention to express
Your thought of me: the plainest phrase and language
That you can use, will be too high a strain
For such an humble theme.
Sanaz. If the Great Duke
Made this his end, to try my constant temper,
Though I am vanquished, 'tis his fault, not mine,
For I am flesh and blood, and have affections
Like other men. Who can behold the temples,
Or holy altars, but the objects work
Devotion in him? And I may as well
Walk over burning iron with bare feet
And be unscorched, as look upon this beauty
Without desire, and that desire pursued too
Till it be quenched with the enjoying those
Delights, which to achieve, danger is nothing,
And loyalty but a word. [Aside.
Lid. I ne'er was proud;
Nor can find I am guilty of a thought
Deserving this neglect and strangeness from you;
Nor am I amorous.
Sanaz. Suppose his greatness
Loves her himself, why makes he choice of me
To be his agent? It is tyranny
To call one pinched with hunger to a feast
And at that instant cruelly deny him
To taste of what he sees. Allegiance
Tempted too far is like the trial of
A good sword on an anvil; as that often
Flies in pieces without service to the owner,
So trust enforced too far proves treachery,
And is too late repented. [Aside.
Lid. Pray you, sir,
Or license me to leave you, or deliver
The reasons which invite you to command
My tedious waiting on you.
Char. As I live,
I know not what to think on't. Is't his pride
Or his simplicity?
Sanaz. Whither have my thoughts
Carried me from myself? In this my dulness,
I've lost an opportunity_____[Turns to her; she falls off.
Lid. 'Tis true,
I was not bred in court, nor live a star there,
Nor shine in rich embroideries and pearl,
As they that are the mistresses of great fortunes
Are every day adorned with_____
Sanaz. Will you vouchsafe
Your ear, sweet lady?
Lid. Yet I may be bold,
For my integrity and fame, to rank
With such as are more glorious. Though I never
Did injury, yet I am sensible
When I'm contemned and scorned.
Sanaz. Will you please to hear me?
Lid. O the difference of natures! Giovanni,
A prince in expectation, when he lived here,
Stole courtesy from Heaven, and would not to
The meanest servant in my father's house
Have kept such distance.
Sanaz. Pray you, do not think me
Unworthy of your ear; it was your beauty
That turned me statue. I can speak, fair lady.
Lid. And I can hear. The harshness of your courtship
Cannot corrupt my courtesy.
Sanaz. Will you hear me,
If I speak of love?
Lid. Provided you be modest;
I were uncivil, else.
Char. They are come to parley:
I must observe this nearer. [He retires.
Sanaz. You are a rare one,
And such, but that my haste commands me hence,
I could converse with ever. Will you grace me
With leave to visit you again?
Lid. So you,
At your return to court, do me the favour
To make a tender of my humble service
To the Prince Giovanni.
Sanaz. Ever touching
Upon that string! [Aside.] And will you give me hope
Of future happiness?
Lid. That, as I shall find you:
The fort that's yielded at the first assault
Is hardly worth the taking.

Re-enter CHAROMONTE below.

Char. O, they are at it.
Sanaz. She is a magazine of all perfection,
And 'tis death to part from her, yet I must—
A parting kiss, fair maid.
Lid. That, custom grants you.
Char. A homely breakfast does attend your lordship,
Such as the place affords.
Sanaz. No, I have feasted
Already here; my thank's, and so I leave you:
I will see you again.—Till this unhappy hour
I was never lost, and what to do or say
I have not yet determined. [Aside and exit.
Char. Gone so abruptly!
Tis very strange.
Lid. Under your favour, sir,
His coming hither was to little purpose,
For anything I heard from him.
Char. Take heed, Lidia!
I do advise you with a father's love,
And tenderness of your honour; as I would not
Have you coarse and harsh in giving entertainment,
So by no means to be credulous: for great men,
Till they have gained their ends, are giants in
Their promises, but, those obtained, weak pigmies
In their performance. And it is a maxim
Allowed among them, so they may deceive,
They may swear any thing, for the queen of love,
As they hold constantly, does never punish,
But smile at, lovers' perjuries.—Yet be wise too,
And when you are sued to in a noble way,
Be neither nice nor scrupulous.
Lid. All you speak, sir,
I hear as oracles, nor will digress
From your directions.
Char. So shall you keep
Your fame untainted.
Lid. As I would my life, sir. [Exeunt.

ACT THE THIRD.

SCENE I.—Florence. An Anteroom in the Palace.

Enter SANAZARRO and Servant.

SANAZ. Leave the horses with my grooms; but be you careful,
With your best diligence and speed, to find out
The prince, and humbly, in my name, entreat
I may exchange some private conference with him
Before the Great Duke know of my arrival.
Serv. I haste, my lord.
Sanaz. Here I'll attend his coming:
And see you keep yourself, as much as may be,
Concealed from all men else.
Serv. To serve your lordship,
I wish I were invisible. [Exit.
Sanaz. I am driven
Into a desperate strait, and cannot steer
A middle course; and of the two extremes
Which I must make election of, I know not
Which is more full of horror. Never servant
Stood more engaged to a magnificent master
Than I to Cozimo; and all those honours
And glories by his grace conferred upon me,
Or by my prosperous services deserved,
If now I should deceive his trust and make
A shipwreck of my loyalty, are ruined.
And, on the other side, if I discover
Lidia's divine perfections, all my hopes
In her are sunk, never to be buoyed up:
For 'tis impossible, but, as soon as seen,
She must with adoration be sued to.
A hermit at his beads but looking on her,
Or the cold cynic whom Corinthian Laïs
(Not moved with her lust's blandishments) called a stone,
At this object would take fire. Nor is the duke
Such an Hippolytus, but that this Phædra,
But seen, must force him to forsake the groves
And Dian's huntmanship, proud to serve under
Venus' soft ensigns. No, there is no way
For me to hope fruition of my ends,
But to conceal her beauties;—and how that
May be effected, is as hard a task
As with a veil to cover the sun's beams,
Or comfortable light. Three years the prince
Lived in her company, and Contarino,
The secretary, hath possessed the duke
What a rare piece she is:—but he's my creature,
And may with ease be frighted to deny
What he hath said; and, if my long experience,
With some strong reasons I have thought upon,
Cannot o'er-reach a youth, my practice yields me
But little profit.

Enter GIOVANNI with the Servant.

Giov. You are well returned, sir.
Sanaz. Leave us.—[Exit Servant.] When that your grace shall
know the motives
That forced me to invite you to this trouble,
You will excuse my manners.
Giov. Sir, there needs not
This circumstance between us. You are ever
My noble friend.
Sanaz. You shall have further cause
To assure you of my faith and zeal to serve you;
And when I have committed to your trust
(Presuming still on your retentive silence)
A secret of no less importance than
My honour, nay, my head, it will confirm
What value you hold with me.
Giov. Pray you, believe, sir,
What you deliver to me shall be locked up
In a strong cabinet, of which you yourself
Shall keep the key: for here I pawn my honour,
Which is the best security I can give yet,
It shall not be discovered.
Sanaz. This assurance
Is more than I with modesty could demand
From such a paymaster; but I must be sudden:
And therefore, to the purpose. Can your Excellence
In your imagination conceive
On what design, or whither, the duke's will
Commanded me hence last night?
Giov. No, I assure you;
And it had been a rudeness to enquire
Of that I was not called to.
Sanaz. Grant me hearing,
And I will truly make you understand
It only did concern you.
Giov. Me, my lord!
Sanaz. You, in your present state, and future fortunes;
For both lie at the stake.
Giov. You much amaze me.
Pray you, resolve this riddle.
Sanaz. You know the duke,
If he die issueless, as yet he is,
Determines you his heir.
Giov. It hath pleased his highness
Oft to profess so much.
Sanaz. But say he should
Be won to prove a second wife, on whom
He may beget a son, how, in a moment,
Will all those glorious expectations, which
Render you reverenced and remarkable,
Be in a moment blasted, howe'er you are
His much-loved sister's son!
Giov. I must bear it
With patience, and in me it is a duty
That I was born with; and 'twere much unfit
For the receiver of a benefit
To offer, for his own ends, to prescribe
Laws to the giver's pleasure.
Sanaz. Sweetly answered,
And like your noble self. This your rare temper
So wins upon me, that I would not live
(If that by honest arts I can prevent it)
To see your hopes made frustrate. And but think
How you shall be transformed from what you are,
Should this (as Heaven avert it!) ever happen.
It must disturb your peace: for whereas now,
Being, as you are, received for the heir apparent,
You are no sooner seen, but wondered at,
The signiors making it a business to
Enquire how you have slept, and, as you walk
The streets of Florence, the glad multitude
In throngs press but to see you, and, with joy,
The father, pointing with his finger, tells
His son, This is the prince, the hopeful prince,
That must hereafter rule, and you obey him:
Great ladies beg your picture, and make love
To that, despairing to enjoy the substance:
And, but the last night, when 'twas only rumoured
That you were come to court, as if you had
By sea past hither from another world,
What general shouts and acclamations followed!
The bells rang loud, the bonfires blazed, and such
As loved not wine, carousing to your health,
Were drunk, and blushed not at it. And is this
A happiness to part with?
Giov. I allow these
As flourishes of fortune, with which princes
Are often soothed; but never yet esteemed them
For real blessings.
Sanaz. Yet all these were paid
To what you may be, not to what you are;
For if the Great Duke but shew to his servants
A son of his own, you shall, like one obscure,
Pass unregarded.
Giov. I confess, command
Is not to be contemned, and if my fate
Appoint me to it, as I may, I'll bear it
With willing shoulders. But, my lord, as yet,
You've told me of a danger coming towards me,
But have not named it.
Sanaz. That is soon delivered.
Great Cozimo, your uncle, as I more
Than guess, for 'tis no frivolous circumstance
That does persuade my judgment to believe it,
Purposes to be married.
Giov. Married, sir!
With whom, and on what terms? pray you, instruct me.
Sanaz. With the fair Lidia.
Giov. Lidia!
Sanaz. The daughter
Of Signior Charomonte.
Giov. Pardon me
Though I appear incredulous; for, on
My knowledge, he ne'er saw her.
Sanaz. That is granted:
But Contarino hath so sung her praises
And given her out for such a masterpiece
That he's transported with it, sir:—and love
Steals sometimes through the ear into the heart,
As well as by the eye. The duke no sooner
Heard her described, but I was sent in post
To see her, and return my judgment of her.
Giov. And what's your censure?
Sanaz. 'Tis a pretty creature.
Giov. She's very fair.
Sanaz. Yes, yes, I have seen worse faces.
Giov. Her limbs are neatly formed.
Sanaz. She hath a waist
Indeed sized to love's wish.
Giov. A delicate hand too.
Sanaz. Then for a leg and foot—
Giov. And there I leave you,
For I presumed no further.
Sanaz. As she is, sir,
I know she wants no gracious part that may
Allure the duke, and, if he only see her,
She is his own: he will not be denied,
And then you are lost; yet, if you'll second me,
(As you have reason, for it most concerns you,)
I can prevent all yet.
Giov. I would you could,
A noble way.
Sanaz. I will cry down her beauties,
Especially the beauties of her mind,
As much as Contarino hath advanced them;
And this, I hope, will breed forgetfulness,
And kill affection in him: but you must join
With me in my report, if you be questioned.
Giov. I never told a lie yet, and I hold it
In some degree blasphemous to dispraise
What's worthy admiration: yet, for once,
I will dispraise a little, and not vary
From your relation.
Sanaz. Be constant in it.

Enter ALPHONSO.

Alph. My lord, the duke hath seen your man, and wonders

Enter COZIMO, HIPPOLITO, CONTARINO, and Attendants.

You come not to him. See, if his desire
To have conference with you hath not brought him hither
In his own person!
Coz. They are comely coursers,
And promise swiftness.
Cont. They are, of my knowledge,
Of the best race in Naples.
Coz. You are, nephew,
As I hear, an excellent horseman, and we like it:
'Tis a fair grace in a prince. Pray you, make trial
Of their strength and speed; and, if you think them fit
For your employment, with a liberal hand
Reward the gentleman that did present them
From the Viceroy of Naples.
Giov. I will use
My best endeavour, sir.
Coz. Wait on my nephew. [Exeunt GIOVANNI, ALPHONSO, HIPPOLITO,
and Attendants.
Nay, stay you, Contarino:—be within call;
It may be we shall use you. [Exit CONTARINO.
You have rode hard, sir,
And we thank you for it: every minute seems
Irksome and tedious to us till you have
Made your discovery. Say, friend, have you seen
This phœnix of our age?
Sanaz. I have seen a maid, sir;
But, if that I have judgment, no such wonder
As she was delivered to you.
Coz. This is strange.
Sanaz. But certain truth. It may be, she was looked on
With admiration in the country, sir;
But, if compared with many in your court,
She would appear but ordinary.
Coz. Contarino
Reports her otherwise.
Sanaz. Such as ne'er saw swans,
May think crows beautiful.
Coz. How is her behaviour?
Sanaz. 'Tis like the place she lives in.
Coz. How her wit,
Discourse, and entertainment?
Sanaz. Very coarse,
I would not willingly say poor, and rude:
But, had she all the beauties of fair women,
The dulness of her soul would fright me from her.
Coz. You are curious, sir. I know not what to think
on't.—[Aside.
Contarino!

Re-enter CONTARINO.

Cont. Sir.
Coz. Where was thy judgment, man,
To extol a virgin Sanazarro tells me
Is nearer to deformity?
Sanaz. I saw her,
And curiously perused her, and I wonder
That she, that did appear to me, that know
What beauty is, not worthy the observing,
Should so transport you.
Cont. Troth, my lord, thought then_____
Coz. Thought! Didst thou not affirm it?
Cont. I confess, sir,
I did believe so then; but now I hear
My lord's opinion to the contrary,
I am of another faith: for 'tis not fit
That I should contradict him. I am dim, sir;
But he's sharp-sighted.
Sanaz. This is to my wish. [Aside.
Coz. We know not what to think of this; yet would not

Re-enter GIOVANNI, HIPPOLITO, and ALPHONSO.

Determine rashly of it. [Aside]—How do you like
My nephew's horsemanship?
Hip. In my judgment, sir,
It is exact and rare.
Alph. And, to my fancy,
He did present great Alexander mounted
On his Bucephalus.
Coz. You are right courtiers,
And know it is your duty to cry up
All actions of a prince.
Sanaz. Do not betray
Yourself, you're safe; I have done my part. [Aside to GIOVANNI.
Giov. I thank you;
Nor will I fail.
Coz. What's your opinion, nephew,
Of the horses?
Giov. Two of them are, in my judgment,
The best I ever backed; I mean the roan, sir,
And the brown bay: but for the chestnut-coloured,
Though he be full of metal, hot, and fiery,
He treads weak in his pasterns.
Coz. So: come nearer;
This exercise hath put you into a sweat;
Take this and dry it: and now I command you
To tell me truly what's your censure of
Charomonte's daughter, Lidia.
Giov. I am, sir,
A novice in my judgment of a lady,
But such as 'tis, your grace shall have it freely.
I would not speak ill of her, and am sorry,
If I keep myself a friend to truth, I cannot
Report her as I would, so much I owe
Her reverend father; but I'll give you, sir,
As near as I can, her character in little.
She's of a goodly stature, and her limbs
Not disproportioned; for her face, it is
Far from deformity, yet they flatter her
That style it excellent; her manners are
Simple and innocent, but her discourse
And wit deserve my pity more than praise:
At the best, my lord, she is a handsome picture,
And, that said, all is spoken.
Coz. I believe you:
I ne'er yet found you false.
Giov. Nor ever shall, sir.—
Forgive me, matchless Lidia! too much love,
And jealous fear to lose thee, do compel me,
Against my will, my reason, and my knowledge,
To be a poor detractor of that beauty
Which fluent Ovid, if he lived again,
Would want words to express. [Aside.
Coz. [To Sanaz.] Pray you, make choice of
The richest of our furniture for these horses,
And take my nephew with you; we in this
Will follow his directions.
Giov. Could I find now
The Princess Fiorinda, and persuade her
To be silent in the suit that I moved to her,
All were secure.
Sanaz. In that, my lord, I'll aid you.
Coz. We will be private; leave us.
[Exeunt all but COZIMO.
All my studies
And serious meditations aim no further
Than this young man's good. He was my sister's son,
And she was such a sister, when she lived,
I could not prize too much; nor can I better
Make known how dear I hold her memory
Than in my cherishing the only issue
Which she hath left behind her. Who's that?

Enter FIORINDA.

Fior. Sir.
Coz. My fair charge! you are welcome to us.
Fior. I have found it, sir.
Coz. All things go well in Urbin.
Fior. Your gracious care to me, an orphan, frees me
From all suspicion that my jealous fears
Can drive into my fancy.
Coz. The next summer,
In our own person, we will bring you thither,
And seat you in your own.
Fior. When you think fit, sir.
But in the meantime, with your highness' pardon,
I am a suitor to you.
Coz. Name it, madam,
With confidence to obtain it.
Fior. That you would please
To lay a strict command on Charomonte
To bring his daughter Lidia to the court:
And pray you think, sir, that 'tis not my purpose
To employ her as a servant, but to use her
As a most wished companion.
Coz. Ha! your reason?
Fior. The hopeful prince, your nephew, sir, hath given her
To me for such an abstract of perfection
In all that can be wished for in a virgin,
As beauty, music, ravishing discourse,
Quickness of apprehension, with choice manners
And learning too, not usual with women,
That I am much ambitious (though I shall
Appear but as a foil to set her off)
To be by her instructed, and supplied
In what I am defective.
Coz. Did my nephew
Seriously deliver this?
Fior. I assure your grace,
With zeal and vehemency; and even when
With his best words he strived to set her forth,
Though the rare subject made him eloquent,
He would complain, all he could say came short
Of her deservings.
Coz. Pray you have patience. [Walks aside.
This was strangely carried.—Ha! are we trifled with?
Dare they do this? Is Cozimo's fury, that
Of late was terrible, grown contemptible?
Well; we will clear our brows, and undermine
Their secret works, though they have digged like moles,
And crush them with the tempest of my wrath
When I appear most calm. He is unfit
To command others, that knows not to use it,
And with all rigour: yet my stern looks shall not
Discover my intents: for I will strike
When I begin to frown.—You are the mistress
Of that you did demand.
Fior. I thank your highness;
But speed in the performance of the grant
Doubles the favour, sir.
Coz. You shall possess it
Sooner than you expect:—
Only be pleased to be ready when my secretary
Waits on you to take the fresh air. My nephew,
And my bosom friend, so to cheat me! 'tis not fair.
[Aside.

Re-enter GIOVANNI and SANAZARRO.

Sanaz. Where should this princess be? nor in her lodgings
Nor in the private walks, her own retreat,
Which she so much frequented!
Giov. By my life,
She's with the duke! and I much more than fear
Her forwardness to prefer my suit hath ruined
What with such care we built up.
Coz. Have you furnished
Those coursers, as we willed you?
Sanaz. There's no sign
Of anger in his looks.
Giov. They are complete, sir.
Coz. 'Tis well: to your rest. Soft sleeps wait on you, madam.
To-morrow, with the rising of the sun,
Be ready to ride with us.—They with more safety
Had trod on fork-tongued adders than provoked me.
[Aside and exit.
Fior. I come not to be thanked, sir, for the speedy
Performance of my promise touching Lidia:
It is effected.
Sanaz. We are undone. [Aside.
Fior. The duke
No sooner heard me with my best of language
Describe her excellencies, as you taught me,
But he confirmed it.—You look sad, as if
You wished it were undone.
Giov. No, gracious madam,
I am your servant for't.
Fior. Be you as careful
For what I moved to you.—Count Sanazarro,
Now I perceive you honour me, in vouchsafing
To wear so slight a favour.
Sanaz. 'Tis a grace
I am unworthy of.
Fior. You merit more,
In prizing so a trifle. Take this diamond;
I'll second what I have begun; for know,
Your valour hath so won upon me, that
'Tis not to be resisted; I have said, sir,
And leave you to interpret it. [Exit.
Sanaz. This to me
Is wormwood. 'Tis apparent we are taken
In our own noose. What's to be done?
Giov. I know not.
And 'tis a punishment justly fallen upon me
For leaving truth, a constant mistress, that
Ever protects her servants, to become
A slave to lies and falsehood. What excuse
Can be made to the duke, what mercy hoped for,
Our packing being laid open?
Sanaz. 'Tis not to
Be questioned but his purposed journey is
To see fair Lidia.
Giov. And to divert him,
Impossible.
Sanaz. There's now no looking backward.
Giov. And which way to go on with safety, not
To be imagined.
Sanaz. Give me leave: I have
An embryon in my brain, which, I despair not,
May be brought to form and fashion, provided
You will be open-breasted.
Giov. 'Tis no time now,
Our dangers being equal, to conceal
A thought from you.
Sanaz. What power hold you o'er Lidia?
Do you think that, with some hazard of her life,
She would prevent your ruin?
Giov. I presume so,—
If, in the undertaking it, she stray not
From what becomes her innocence; and to that
'Tis far from me to press her: I myself
Will rather suffer.
Sanaz. 'Tis enough; this night
Write to her by your servant Calandrino
As I shall give directions; my man

Enter CALANDRINO, fantastically dressed.

Shall bear him company. See, sir, to my wish
He does appear; but much transformed from what
He was when he came hither.
Cal. I confess
I am not very wise, and yet I find
A fool, so he be parcel knave, in court
May flourish and grow rich.
Giov. Calandrino.
Cal. Peace!
I am in contemplation.
Giov. Do not you know me?
Cal. I tell thee, no; on forfeit of my place,
I must not know myself, much less my father,
But by petition; that petition lined too
With golden birds, that sing to the tune of profit,
Or I am deaf.
Giov. But you've your sense of feeling.
[Offering to strike him.
Sanaz. Nay, pray you, forbear.
Cal. I have all that's requisite
To the making up of a signior: my spruce ruff,
My hooded cloak, long stocking, and paned hose,
My case of toothpicks, and my silver fork,
To convey an olive neatly to my mouth;
And, what is all in all, my pockets ring
A golden peal. O that the peasants in the country,
My quondam fellows, but saw me as I am,
How they would admire and worship me!
Giov. As they shall;
For instantly you must thither.
Cal. "My grand signior,
Vouchsafe a beso la manos, and a cringe
Of the last edition."
Giov. You must ride post with letters
This night to Lidia.
Cal. An it please your grace,
Shall I use my coach, or footcloth mule?
Sanaz. You widgeon,
You are to make all speed; think not of pomp.
Giov. Follow for your instructions, sirrah.
Cal. I have
One suit to you, my good lord.
Sanaz. What is't?
Cal. That you would give me
A subtle court-charm, to defend me from
The infectious air of the country.
Giov. What's the reason?
Cal. Why, as this court-air taught me knavish wit,
By which I am grown rich, if that again
Should turn me fool and honest, vain hopes farewell!
For I must die a beggar.
Sanaz. Go to, sirrah.
You'll be whipt for this.
Giov. Leave fooling, and attend us. [Exeunt.

ACT THE FOURTH.

SCENE I.—The Country. A Hall in CHAROMONTE'S House.

Enter CHAROMONTE, and LIDIA.

CHAR. Daughter, I have observed, since the prince left us,
(Whose absence I mourn with you,) and the visit
Count Sanazarro gave us, you have nourished
Sad and retirèd thoughts, and parted with
That freedom and alacrity of spirit
With which you used to cheer me.
Lid. For the count, sir,
All thought of him does with his person die;
But I confess ingenuously, I cannot
So soon forget the choice and chaste delights,
The courteous conversation of the prince,
And without stain, I hope, afforded me
When he made this house a court.
Char. It is in us
To keep it so without him. Want we know not,
And all we can complain of, Heaven be praised for't,
Is too much plenty; and we will make use of

Enter CAPONI, BERNARDO, PETRUCHIO, and other Servants.

All lawful pleasures. How now, fellows! when
Shall we have this lusty dance?
Cap. In the afternoon, sir.
'Tis a device, I wis, of my own making,
And such a one as shall make your signiorship know
I have not been your butler for nothing, but
Have crotchets in my head. We'll trip it tightly
And make my sad young mistress merry again,
Or I'll forswear the cellar.
Bern. If we had
Our fellow Calandrino here, to dance
His part, we were perfect.
Pet. O! he was a rare fellow;
But I fear the court hath spoiled him.
Cap. When I was young,
I could have cut a caper on a pinnacle:
But now I'm old and wise.—Keep your figure fair,
And follow but the sample I shall set you,
The duke himself will send for us, and laugh at us;
And that were credit.

Enter CALANDRINO.

Lid. Who have we here?
Cal. I find
What was brawn in the country, in the court grows tender.
The bots on these jolting jades! I am bruised to jelly.
A coach for my money! and that the courtezans know well;
Their riding so makes them last three years longer
Than such as are hackneyed.
Char. Calandrino! 'tis he.
Cal. Now to my postures.—Let my hand have the honour
To convey a kiss from my lips to the cover of
Your foot, dear signior.
Char. Fie! you stoop too low, sir.
Cal. The hem of your vestment, lady: your glove is for princes;
Nay, I have conned my distances.
Lid. 'Tis most courtly.
Cap. Fellow Calandrino!
Cal. Signior de Caponi,
Grand botelier of the mansion.
Bern. How is't, man? [Claps him on the shoulder.
Cal. Be not so rustic in your salutations,
Signior Bernardo, master of the accounts.
Signior Petruchio, may you long continue
Your function in the chamber!
Cap. When shall we learn
Such gambols in our villa?
Lid. Sure he's mad.
Char. 'Tis not unlike, for most of such mushrooms are so.
What news at court?
Cal. Basta! they are mysteries,
And not to be revealed. With your favour, signior,
I am, in private, to confer awhile
With this signora: but I'll pawn my honour,
That neither my terse language, nor my habit,
Howe'er it may convince, nor my new shrugs,
Shall render her enamoured.
Char. Take your pleasure;
A little of these apish tricks may pass,
Too much is tedious. [Exit.
Cal. The prince, in this paper,
Presents his service. Nay, it is not courtly
To see the seal broke open; so I leave you.
Signiors of the villa, I'll descend to be
Familiar with you.
Cap. Have you forgot to dance?
Cal. No, I am bettered.
Pet. Will you join with us?
Cal. As I like the project.
Let me warm my brains first with the richest grape,
And then I'm for you.
Cap. We will want to wine. [Exeunt all but LIDIA.
Lid. That this comes only from the best of princes,
With a kind of adoration does command me
To entertain it; and the sweet contents
[Kissing the letter.
That are inscribed here by his hand must be
Much more than musical to me. All the service
Of my life at no part can deserve this favour.
O what a virgin longing I feel on me
To unrip the seal and read it! yet to break
What he hath fastened, rashly, may appear
A saucy rudeness in me.—I must do it,
(Nor can I else learn his commands, or serve them,)
But with such reverence, as I would open
Some holy writ, whose grave instructions beat down
Rebellious sins, and teach my better part
How to mount upward.—So, [opens the letter] 'tis done, and I
With eagle's eyes will curiously peruse it. [Reads.
"Chaste Lidia, the favours are so great
On me by you conferred, that to entreat
The least addition to them, in true sense
May argue me of blushless impudence.
But, such are my extremes, if you deny
A further grace, I must unpitied die.
Haste cuts off circumstance. As you're admired
For beauty, the report of it hath fired
The duke my uncle, and, I fear you'll prove,
Not with a sacred, but unlawful love.
If he see you as you are, my hoped for light
Is changed into an everlasting night;
How to prevent it, if your goodness find,
You save two lives, and me you ever bind,
"The honourer of your virtues,
"GIOVANNI."

Were I more deaf than adders, these sweet charms
Would through my ears find passage to my soul,
And soon enchant it. To save such a prince,
Who would not perish? virtue in him must suffer,
And piety be forgotten. The duke's lust,
Though it raged more than Tarquin's, shall not reach me.
All quaint inventions of chaste virgins aid me!
My prayers are heard; I have't. The duke ne'er saw me—
Or, if that fail, I am again provided—
But for the servants!—They will take what form
I please to put upon them. Giovanni,
Be safe; thy servant Lidia assures it.
Let mountains of afflictions fall on me,
Their weight is easy, so I set thee free. [Exit.

SCENE II.—Another Room in the same.

Enter COZIMO, GIOVANNI, SANAZARRO, CHAROMONTE, and Attendants.

Sanaz. Are you not tired with travel, sir?
Coz. No, no,
I am fresh and lusty.
Char. This day shall be ever
A holiday to me, that brings my prince
Under my humble roof. [Weeps.
Giov. See, sir, my good tutor
Sheds tears for joy.
Coz. Dry them up, Charomonte;
And all forbear the room, while we exchange
Some private words together.
Giov. O, my lord,
How grossly have we overshot ourselves!
Sanaz. In what, sir?
Giov. In forgetting to acquaint
My guardian with our purpose: all that Lidia
Can do avails us nothing, if the duke
Find out the truth from him.
Sanaz. 'Tis now past help,
And we must stand the hazard:—hope the best, sir.
[Exeunt GIOVANNI, SANAZARRO, and Attendants.
Char. My loyalty doubted, sir!
Coz. 'Tis more. Thou hast
Abused our trust, and in a high degree
Committed treason.
Char. Treason! 'Tis a word
My innocence understands not. Were my breast
Transparent, and my thoughts to be discerned,
Not one spot shall be found to taint the candour
Of my allegiance: and I must be bold
To tell you, sir, (for he that knows no guilt
Can know no fear,) 'tis tyranny to o'ercharge
An honest man; and such, till now, I've lived,
And such, my lord, I'll die.
Coz. Sir, do not flatter
Yourself with hope, these great and glorious words,
Which every guilty wretch, as well as you,
That's armed with impudence, can with ease deliver,
And with as full a mouth, can work on us:
Nor shall gay flourishes of language clear
What is in fact apparent.
Char. Fact! what fact?
You, that know only what it is, instruct me,
For I am ignorant.
Coz. This, then, sir: We gave up,
On our assurance of your faith and care,
Our nephew Giovanni, nay, our heir
In expectation, to be trained up by you
As did become a prince.
Char. And I discharged it:
Is this the treason?
Coz. Take us with you, sir.
And, in respect we knew his youth was prone
To women, and that, living in our court,
He might make some unworthy choice, before
His weaker judgment was confirmed, we did
Remove him from it; constantly presuming,
You, with your best endeavours, rather would
Have quenched those heats in him, than light a torch,
As you have done, to his looseness.
Char. I! my travail
Is ill-requited, sir; for, by my soul,
I was so curious that way, that I granted
Access to none could tempt him; nor did ever
One syllable, or obscene accent, touch
His ear, that might corrupt him.
Coz. No! Why, then,
With your allowance, did you give free way
To all familiar privacy between
My nephew and your daughter? Or why did you
(Had you no other ends in't but our service)
Read to them, and together, as they had been
Scholars of one form, grammar, rhetoric,
Philosophy, story, and interpret to them
The close temptations of lascivious poets?
Or wherefore, for we still had spies upon you,
Was she still present, when, by your advice,
He was taught the use of his weapon, horsemanship,
Wrestling, nay, swimming, but to fan in her
A hot desire of him? and then, forsooth,
His exercises ended, covered with
A fair pretence of recreation for him,
When Lidia was instructed in those graces
That add to beauty, he, brought to admire her,
Must hear her sing, while to her voice her hand
Made ravishing music; and, this applauded, dance
A light lavolta with her.
Char. Have you ended
All you can charge me with?
Coz. Nor stopt you there,
But they must unattended walk into
The silent groves, and hear the amorous birds
Warbling their wanton notes; here, a sure shade
Of barren sycamores, which the all-seeing sun
Could not pierce through; near that, an arbour hung
With spreading eglantine; there, a bubbling spring
Watering a bank of hyacinths and lilies;
With all allurements that could move to lust.
And could this, Charomonte, (should I grant
They had been equals both in birth and fortune,)
Become your gravity? nay, 'tis clear as air,
That your ambitious hopes to match your daughter
Into our family, gave connivance to it:
And this, though not in act, in the intent
I call high treason.
Char. Hear my just defence, sir;
And, though you are my prince, it will not take from
Your greatness, to acknowledge with a blush,
In this my accusation you have been
More swayed by spleen and jealous suppositions
Than certain grounds of reason. You had a father
(Blest be his memory!) that made frequent proofs
Of my loyalty and faith, and, would I boast
The dangers I have broke through in his service,
I could say more. Nay, you yourself, dread sir,
Whenever I was put unto the test,
Found me true gold, and not adulterate metal;
And am I doubted now?
Coz. This is from the purpose.
Char. I will come to it, sir: Your grace well knew,
Before the prince's happy presence made
My poor house rich, the chiefest blessing which
I gloried in, though now it prove a curse,
Was an only daughter. Nor did you command me,
As a security to your future fears,
To cast her off: which had you done, howe'er
She was the light of my eyes, and comfort of
My feeble age, so far I prized my duty
Above affection, she now had been
A stranger to my care. But she is fair!
Is that her fault, or mine? Did ever father
Hold beauty in his issue for a blemish?
Her education and her manners tempt too!
If these offend, they are easily removed:
You may, if you think fit, before my face,
In recompense of all my watchings for you,
With burning corrosives transform her to
An ugly leper; and, this done, to taint
Her sweetness, prostitute her to a brothel.
This I will rather suffer, sir, and more,
Than live suspected by you.
Coz. Let not passion
Carry you beyond your reason.
Char. I am calm, sir;
Yet you must give me leave to grieve I find
My actions misinterpreted. Alas! sir,
Was Lidia's desire to serve the prince
Called an offence? or did she practise to
Seduce his youth, because with her best zeal
And fervour she endeavoured to attend him?
'Tis a hard construction. Though she be my daughter,
I may thus far speak her: from her infancy
She was ever civil, her behaviour nearer
Simplicity than craft; and malice dares not
Affirm, in one loose gesture, or light language,
She gave a sign she was in thought unchaste.
I'll fetch her to you, sir; and but look on her
With equal eyes, you must in justice grant
That your suspicion wrongs her.
Coz. It may be;
But I must have stronger assurance of it
Than passionate words: and, not to trifle time,
As we came unexpected to your house,
We will prevent all means that may prepare her
How to answer that with which we come to charge her.
And howsoever it may be received
As a foul breach to hospitable rites,
On thy allegiance and boasted faith,
Nay, forfeit of thy head, we do confine thee
Close prisoner to thy chamber, till all doubts
Are cleared, that do concern us.
Char. I obey, sir,
And wish your grace had followèd my hearse
To my sepulchre, my loyalty unsuspected,
Rather than now—but I am silent, sir,
And let that speak my duty. [Exit.
Coz. If this man
Be false, disguisèd treachery ne'er put on
A shape so near to truth. Within, there!

Re-enter GIOVANNI and SANAZARRO, ushering in PETRONELLA.
CALANDRINO
and others setting forth a banquet.

Sanaz. Sir.
Coz. Bring Lidia forth.
Giov. She comes, sir, of herself,
To present her service to you.
Coz. Ha! this personage
Cannot invite affection.
Sanaz. See you keep state.
Petron. I warrant you.
Coz. The manners of her mind
Must be transcendent, if they can defend
Her rougher outside. May we with your liking
Salute you, lady?
Petron. Let me wipe my mouth, sir,
With my cambric handkerchief, and then have at you.
Coz. Can this be possible?
Sanaz. Yes, sir; you will find her
Such as I gave her to you.
Petron. Will your dukeship
Sit down and eat some sugar-plums? Here's a castle
Of march-pane too; and this quince-marmalade was
Of my own making; all summed up together,
Did cost the setting on: and here is wine too,
As good as e'er was tapped. I'll be your taster,
For I know the fashion. [Drinks all off.]—Now you must do me right,
sir;
You shall nor will nor choose.
Giov. She's very simple.
Coz. Simple! 'tis worse. Do you drink thus often lady?
Petron. Still when I am thirsty, and eat when I am hungry:
Such junkets come not every day. Once more to you,
With a heart and a half, i'faith.
Coz. Pray you, pause a little;
If I hold your cards, I shall pull down the side;
I am not good at the game.
Petron. Then I'll drink for you.
Coz. Nay, pray you stay: I'll find you out a pledge
That shall supply my place: what think you of
This complete signior? You are a Juno,
And in such state must feast this Jupiter:
What think you of him?
Petron. I desire no better.
Coz. And you will undertake this service for me?
You are good at the sport.
Cal. Who, I? a piddler, sir.
Coz. Nay, you shall sit enthroned, and drink
As you were a duke.
Cal. If your grace will have me,
I'll eat and drink like an emperor.
Coz. Take your place then.
[CALANDRINO takes the DUKE'S chair.
We are amazed.
Giov. This is gross: nor can the imposture
But be discovered.
Sanaz. The duke is too sharp-sighted,
To be deluded thus.
Cal. Nay, pray you eat fair,
Or divide, and I will choose. Cannot you use
Your fork as I do? Gape, and I will feed you.
[Feeds her.
Gape wider yet; this is court-like.
Petron. To choke daws with:—
I like it not.
Cal. But you like this?
Petron. Let it come, boy. [They drink.
Coz. What a sight is this! We could be angry with you.
How much you did belie her when you told us
She was only simple! this is barbarous rudeness,
Beyond belief.
Giov. I would not speak her, sir,
Worse than she was.
Sanaz. And I, my lord, chose rather
To deliver her better parted than she is,
Than to take from her.

Enter CAPONI, with his fellow Servants for the dance.

Cap. Ere I'll lose my dance,
I'll speak to the purpose. I am, sir, no prologue;
But in plain terms must tell you, we are provided
Of a lusty hornpipe.
Coz. Prithee, let us have it,
For we grow dull.
Cap. But to make up the medley,
For it is of several colours, we must borrow
Your grace's ghost here.
Cal. Pray you, sir, depose me;
It will not do else. I am, sir, the engine
[Rises, and resigns his chair.
By which it moves.
Petron. I will dance with my duke too;
I will not out.
Coz. Begin then.—[They dance.]—There's more in this,
Than yet I have discovered. Some Œdipus
Resolve this riddle.
Petron. Did I not foot it roundly. [Falls.
Coz. As I live, stark drunk! away with her. We'll reward you,
[Exeunt
Servants with PETRONELLA.
When you have cooled yourselves in the cellar.
Cap. Heaven preserve you!
Coz. We pity Charomonte's wretched fortune
In a daughter, nay, a monster. Good old man!—
The place grows tedious; our remove shall be
With speed: we'll only, in a word or two,
Take leave, and comfort him.
Sanaz. 'Twill rather, sir,
Increase your sorrow, that you know his shame;
Your grace may do it by letter.
Coz. Who signed you
A patent to direct us? Wait our coming
In the garden.
Giov. All will out.
Sanaz. I more than fear it.
[Exeunt GIOVANNI and SANAZARRO.
Coz. These are strange chimeras to us: what to judge of't
Is past our apprehension. One command
Charomonte to attend us. [Exit an Attendant.
Can it be
That Contarino could be so besotted,
As to admire this prodigy? or her father
To doat upon it? Or does she personate,
For some ends unknown to us, this rude behaviour,
Which, in the scene presented, would appear
Ridiculous and impossible!—O, you are welcome.

Enter CHAROMONTE.

We now acknowledge the much wrong we did you
In our unjust suspicion. We have seen
The wonder, sir, your daughter.
Char. And have found her
Such as I did report her. What she wanted
In courtship was, I hope, supplied in civil
And modest entertainment.
Coz. Pray you, tell us,
And truly, we command you—Did you never
Observe she was given to drink?
Char. To drink, sir!
Coz. Yes, nay more, to be drunk?
Char. I had rather see her buried.
Coz. Dare you trust your own eyes, if you find her now
More than distempered?
Char. I will pull them out, sir,
If your grace can make this good. And if you please
To grant me liberty, as she is I'll fetch her,
And in a moment.
Coz. Look you do, and fail not,
On the peril of your head.
Char. Drunk!—She disdains it. [Exit.
Coz. Such contrarieties were never read of.
Charomonte is no fool; nor can I think
His confidence built on sand. We are abused,
'Tis too apparent.

Re-enter CHAROMONTE with LIDIA.

Lid. I am indisposed, sir:
And that life you once tendered, much endangered
In forcing me from my chamber.
Char. Here she is, sir:
Suddenly sick, I grant; but, sure, not drunk:
Speak to my lord the duke.
Lid. All is discovered. [Kneels.
Coz. Is this your only daughter?
Char. And my heir, sir;
Nor keep I any woman in my house
(Unless for sordid offices) but one
I do maintain, trimmed up in her cast-habits,
To make her sport: and she, indeed, loves wine,
And will take too much of it; and, perhaps, for mirth,
She was presented to you.
Coz. It shall yield
No sport to the contrivers. 'Tis too plain now.
Her presence does confirm that Contarino
Delivered of her; nor can sickness dim
The splendour of her beauties: being herself, then,
She must exceed his praise.
Lid. Will your grace hear me?
I'm faint, and can say little.
Coz. Here are accents
Whose every syllable is musical!
Pray you, let me raise you, and awhile rest here.
False Sanazarro, treacherous Giovanni!
But stand we talking!—
Char. Here's a storm soon raised.
Coz. As thou art our subject, Charomonte, swear
To act what we command.
Char. That is an oath
I long since took.
Coz. Then, by that oath we charge thee,
Without excuse, denial, or delay,
To apprehend, and suddenly, Sanazarro,
And our ingrateful nephew. We have said it.
Do it without reply, or we pronounce thee,
Like them, a traitor to us. See them guarded
In several lodgings, and forbid access
To all, but when we warrant. Is our will
Heard sooner than obeyed?
Char. These are strange turns;
But I must not dispute them. [Exit.
Coz. Be severe in't.—
O my abused lenity! from what height
Is my power fallen!
Lid. O me most miserable,
That, being innocent, makes other guilty!
Most gracious prince_____
Coz. Pray you rise, and then speak to me.
Lid. My knees shall first be rooted in this earth,
And, Myrrha-like, I'll grow up to a tree,
Dropping perpetual tears of sorrow, which
Hardened by the rough wind, and turned to amber,
Unfortunate virgins like myself shall wear,
Before I'll make petition to your greatness
But with such reverence, my hands held up thus,
As I would do to Heaven. You princes are
As gods on earth to us, and to be sued to
With such humility, as his deputies
May challenge from their vassals.
Coz. Here's that form
Of language I expected; pray you, speak:
What is your suit?
Lid. That you would look upon me
As an humble thing that millions of degrees
Is placed beneath you: for what am I, dread sir,
Or what can fall in the whole course of my life,
That may be worth your care, much less your trouble?
As the lowly shrub is to the lofty cedar,
Or a molehill to Olympus, if compared,
I am to you, sir. Or, suppose the prince,
(Which cannot find belief in me,) forgetting
The greatness of his birth and hopes, hath thrown
An eye of favour on me, in me punish,
That am the cause, the rashness of his youth.
Shall the queen of the inhabitants of the air,
The eagle, that bears thunder on her wings,
In her angry mood destroy her hopeful young,
For suffering a wren to perch too near them?
Such is our disproportion.
Coz. With what fervour
She pleads against herself!
Lid. For me, poor maid,
I know the prince to be so far above me
That my wishes cannot reach him. Yet I am
So much his creature, that, to fix him in
Your wonted grace and favour, I'll abjure
His sight for ever, and betake myself
To a religious life, (where in my prayers
I may remember him,) and ne'er see man more,
But my ghostly father. Will you trust me, sir?
In truth I'll keep my word; or, if this fail,
A little more of fear what may befall him
Will stop my breath for ever.
Coz. Had you thus argued [Raises her.
As you were yourself, and brought as advocates
Your health and beauty, to make way for you,
No crime of his could put on such a shape
But I should look with the eyes of mercy on it.
What would I give to see this diamond
In her perfect lustre, as she was before
The clouds of sickness dimmed it! Yet, take comfort,
And, as you would obtain remission for
His treachery to me, cheer your drooping spirits,
And call the blood again into your cheeks,
And then plead for him; and in such a habit
As in your highest hopes you would put on
If we were to receive you for our bride.
Lid. I'll do my best, sir,
Coz. And that best will be
A crown of all felicity to me. [Exeunt.

ACT THE FIFTH.

SCENE I.—The same. An upper Chamber in CHAROMONTE'S House.

Enter SANAZARRO.

SANAZ. 'Tis proved in me: the curse of human frailty,
Adding to our afflictions, makes us know
What's good, and yet our violent passions force us
To follow what is ill. Reason assured me
It was not safe to shave a lion's skin,
And that to trifle with a sovereign was
To play with lightning; yet imperious beauty,
Treading upon the neck of understanding,
Compelled me to put off my natural shape
Of loyal duty, to disguise myself
In the adulterate and cobweb-mask
Of disobedient treachery. Where is now
My borrowed greatness, or the promised lives
Of following courtiers echoing my will?
In a moment vanished? Power that stands not on
Its proper base, which is peculiar only
To absolute princes, falls or rises with
Their frown or favour. The Great Duke, my master,
Who almost changed me to his other self,
No sooner takes his beams of comfort from me,
But I, as one unknown or unregarded,
Unpitied suffer. Who makes intercession
To his mercy for me, now? who does remember
The service I have done him? not a man:
And such as spake no language but my lord
The favourite of Tuscany's Grand Duke,
Deride my madness.—Ha! what noise of horses?
[He looks out at the back window.
A goodly troop! This back part of my prison
Allows me liberty to see and know them.
Contarino! yes, 'tis he, and Lodovico:
And the Duchess Fiorinda, Urbin's heir,
A princess I have slighted: yet I wear
Her favours; and, to teach me what I am,
She whom I scorned can only mediate for me.
This way she makes, yet speak to her I dare not:
And how to make suit to her is a task
Of as much difficulty.—Yes, thou blessèd pledge
[Takes off the ring.
Of her affection, aid me! This supplies
The want of pen and ink; and this, of paper.
[Takes a pane of glass.
It must be so; and I in my petition
Concise and pithy.

SCENE II.—The Court before CHAROMONTE'S House.

Enter CONTARINO leading in FIORINDA, ALPHONSO, HIPPOLITO,
HIERONIMO,
and CALAMINTA.

Fior. 'Tis a goodly pile, this.
Hier. But better by the owner.
Alph. But most rich
In the great states it covers.
Fior. The duke's pleasure
Commands us hither.
Cont. Which was laid on us
To attend you to it.
Hip. Signior Charomonte,
To see your Excellence his guest, will think
Himself most happy.
Fior. Tie my shoe.—[The pane falls down.]—What's that?
A pane thrown from the window, no wind stirring!
Calam. And at your feet too fallen:—there's something writ on't.
Cont. Some courtier, belike, would have it known
He wore a diamond.
Calam. Ha! it is directed
To the Princess Fiorinda.
Fior. We will read it. [Reads.
"He, whom you pleased to favour, is cast down
Past hope of rising, by the Great Duke's frown,
If, by your gracious means, he cannot have
A pardon;—and that got, he lives your slave.
"Of men the most distressèd. SANAZARRO."
Of me the most beloved; and I will save thee,
Or perish with thee. Sure, thy fault must be
Of some prodigious shape, if that my prayers
And humble intercession to the duke
Prevail not with him.

Enter COZIMO and CHAROMONTE.

Here he comes; delay
Shall not make less my benefit.
Coz. What we purpose
ll know no change, and therefore move me not;
We were made as properties, and what we shall
Determine of them cannot be called rigour,
But noble justice. When they proved disloyal,
They were cruel to themselves. The prince that pardons
The first affront offered to majesty
Invites a second, rendering that power
Subjects should tremble at, contemptible.
Ingratitude is a monster, Carolo,
To be strangled in the birth, not to be cherished.
Madam, you're happily met with.
Fior. Sir, I am
An humble suitor to you; and the rather
Am confident of a grant, in that your grace,
When I made choice to be at your devotion,
Vowed to deny me nothing.
Coz. To this minute
We have confirmed it. What's your boon?
Fior. It is, sir,
That you, in being gracious to your servant,
The ne'er sufficiently praised Sanazarro,
That now under your heavy displeasure suffers,
Would be good unto yourself. His services,
So many, and so great, (your storm of fury
Calmed by your better judgment,) must inform you
Some little slip, for sure it is no more,
From his loyal duty, with your justice cannot
Make foul his fair deservings. Great sir, therefore,
Look backward on his former worth, and turning
Your eye from his offence, what 'tis I know not,
And, I am confident, you will receive him
Once more into your favour.
Coz. You say well,
You are ignorant in the nature of his fault;
Which when you understand, as we'll instruct you,
Your pity will appear a charity,
It being conferred on an unthankful man,
To be repented. He's a traitor, madam,
To you, to us, to gratitude; and in that
All crimes are comprehended.
Fior. If his offence
Aimed at me only, whatsoe'er it is,
'Tis freely pardoned.
Coz. This compassion in you
Must make the colour of his guilt more ugly.
The honours we have hourly heaped upon him,
The titles, the rewards, to the envy of
The old nobility, as the common people,
We now forbear to touch at, and will only
Insist on his gross wrongs to you. You were pleased,
Forgetting both yourself and proper greatness,
To favour him, nay, to court him to embrace
A happiness, which, on his knees, with joy
He should have sued for. Who repined not at
The grace you did him? yet, in recompense
Of your large bounties, the disloyal wretch
Makes you a stale; and,—what he might be by you,
Scorned and derided,—gives himself up wholly
To the service of another. If you can
Bear this with patience, we must say you have not
The bitterness of spleen, or ireful passions
Familiar to women. Pause upon it,
And, when you seriously have weighed his carriage,
Move us again, if your reason will allow it,
His treachery known: and then, if you continue
An advocate for him, we, perhaps, because
We would deny you nothing, may awake
Our sleeping mercy. Carolo!
Char. My lord. [They talk aside.
Fior. To endure a rival that were equal to me
Cannot but speak my poverty of spirit,
But an inferior, more: yet true love must not
Know or degrees or distances. Lidia may be
As far above me in her form as she
Is in her birth beneath me; and what I
In Sanazarro liked, he loves in her.
But, if I free him now, the benefit
Being done so timely, and confirming too
My strength and power, my soul's best faculties being
Bent wholly to preserve him, must supply me
With all I am defective in, and bind him
My creature ever. It must needs be so,
Nor will I give it o'er thus.
Coz. Does our nephew
Bear his restraint so constantly, as you
Deliver it to us?
Char. In my judgment, sir,
He suffers more for his offence to you,
Than in his fear of what can follow it.
For he is so collected, and prepared
To welcome that you shall determine of him,
As if his doubts and fears were equal to him.
And sure he's not acquainted with much guilt,
That more laments the telling one untruth,
Under your pardon still, for 'twas a fault, sir,
Than others, that pretend to conscience, do
Their crying secret sins.
Coz. No more; this gloss
Defends not the corruption of the text:
Urge it no more. [CHAROMONTE and the others talk aside.
Fior. I once more must make bold, sir,
To trench upon your patience. I have
Considered my wrongs duly: yet that cannot
Divert my intercession for a man
Your grace, like me, once favoured. I am still
A suppliant to you, that you would vouchsafe
The hearing his defence, and that I may,
With your allowance, see and comfort him.
Then, having heard all that he can allege
In his excuse for being false to you,
Censure him as you please.
Coz. You will o'ercome;
There's no contending with you. Pray you, enjoy
What you desire, and tell him he shall have
A speedy trial; in which, we'll forbear
To sit a judge, because our purpose is
To rise up his accuser.
Fior. All increase
Of happiness wait on Cozimo!
[Exeunt FIORINDA and CALAMINTA.
Alph. Was it no more?
Char. My honour's pawned for it.
Cont. I'll second you.
Hip. Since it is for the service and the safety
Of the hopeful prince, fall what can fall, I'll run
The desperate hazard.
Hier. He's no friend to virtue
That does decline it. [They all come forward and kneel.
Coz. Ha! what sue you for?
Shall we be ever troubled? Do not tempt
That anger, may consume you.
Char. Let it, sir:
The loss is less, though innocents we perish,
Than that your sister's son should fall, unheard,
Under your fury. Shall we fear to entreat
That grace for him, that are your faithful servants,
Which you vouchsafe the count, like us a subject?
Coz. Did not we vow, till sickness had forsook
Thy daughter Lidia, and she appeared
In her perfect health and beauty to plead for him,
We were deaf to all persuasion?
Char. And that hope, sir,
Hath wrought a miracle. She is recovered,
And, if you please to warrant her, will bring
The penitent prince before you
Coz. To enjoy
Such happiness, what would we not dispense with?
Alph. Hip. Hier. We all kneel for the prince.
Cont. Nor can it stand
With your mercy, that are gracious to strangers,
To be cruel to your own.
Coz. But art thou certain
I shall behold her at the best?
Char. If ever
She was handsome, as it fits not me to say so,
She is now much bettered.
Coz. Rise; thou art but dead
If this prove otherwise. Lidia, appear
And feast an appetite almost pined to death
With longing expectation to behold
Thy excellencies: thou, as beauty's queen,
Shalt censure the detractors. Let my nephew
Be led in triumph under her command,—
We'll have it so,—and Sanazarro tremble
To think whom he hath slandered. We'll retire
Ourselves a little, and prepare to meet
A blessing, which imagination tells us
We are not worthy of: and then come forth,
But with such reverence, as if I were
Myself the priest, the sacrifice my heart,
To offer at the altar of that goodness
That must or kill or save me. [Exit.
Char. Are not these
Strange gambols in the duke!
Alph. Great princes have,
Like meaner men, their weakness.
Hip. And may use it.
Without control or check.
Cont. 'Tis fit they should:
Their privilege were less else than their subjects'.
Hier. Let them have their humours; there's no crossing them.
[Exeunt.

SCENE III.—A State-room in the same.

Enter FIORINDA, SANAZARRO, and CALAMINTA.

Sanaz. And can it be, your bounties should fall down
In showers on my ingratitude, or the wrongs
Your greatness should revenge, teach you to pity?
What retribution can I make, what service
Pay to your goodness, that, in some proportion,
May to the world express I would be thankful?
Since my engagements are so great, that all
My best endeavours to appear your creature
Can but proclaim my wants, and what I owe
To your magnificence.
Fior. All debts are discharged
In this acknowledgment: yet, since you please
I shall impose some terms of satisfaction
For that which you profess yourself obliged for,
They shall be gentle ones, and such as will not,
I hope, afflict you.
Sanaz. Make me understand,
Great princess, what they are, and my obedience
Shall, with all cheerful willingness, subscribe
To what you shall command.
Fior. I will bind you to
Make good your promise. First, I then enjoin you
To love a lady that, a noble way,
Truly affects you; and that you would take
To your protection and care the dukedom
Of Urbin, which no more is mine, but yours.
And that, when you have full possession of
My person as my fortune, you would use me,
Not as a princess, but instruct me in
The duties of an humble wife, for such,
The privilege of my birth no more remembered,
I will be to you. This consented to,
All injuries forgotten, on your lips
I thus sign your quietus.
Sanaz. I am wretched,
In having but one life to be employed
As you please to dispose it. And, believe it,
If it be not already forfeited
To the fury of my prince, as 'tis your gift,
With all the faculties of my soul I'll study
In what I may to serve you.
Fior. I am happy
In this assurance.

Enter GIOVANNI and LIDIA.

What sweet lady's this?
Sanaz. 'Tis Lidia, madam, she_____
Fior. I understand you.
Nay, blush not; by my life, she is a rare one!
And, if I were your judge, I would not blame you
To like and love her. But, sir, you are mine now,
And I presume so on your constancy
That I dare not be jealous.
Sanaz. All thoughts of her
Are in your goodness buried.
Lid. Pray you, sir,
Be comforted; your innocence should not know
What 'tis to fear; and if that you but look on
The guards that you have in yourself, you cannot.
The duke's your uncle, sir, and, though a little
Incensed against you, when he sees your sorrow,
He must be reconciled. What rugged Tartar
Or cannibal, though bathed in human gore,
But, looking on your sweetness, would forget
His cruel nature, and let fall his weapon,
Though then aimed at your throat?
Giov. O Lidia,
Of maids the honour, and your sex's glory!
It is not fear to die, but to lose you,
That brings this fever on me. I will now
Discover to you that which, till this minute,
I durst not trust the air with. Ere you knew
What power the magic of your beauty had,
I was enchanted by it, liked and loved it,
My fondness still increasing with my years;
And, flattered by false hopes, I did attend
Some blessèd opportunity to move
The duke with his consent to make you mine:
But now, such is my star-crossed destiny,
When he beholds you as you are, he cannot
Deny himself the happiness to enjoy you.
And I as well in reason may entreat him
To give away his crown as to part from
A jewel of more value, such you are.
Yet, howsoever, when you are his duchess,
And I am turned into forgotten dust,
Pray you, love my memory:—I should say more,
But I'm cut off.

Enter COZIMO, CHAROMONTE, CONTARINO, HIERONIMO, HIPPOLITO, and
ALPHONSO.

Sanaz. The duke! That countenance once,
When it was clothed in smiles, shewed like an angel's,
But now 'tis folded up in clouds of fury
'Tis terrible to look on.
Lid. Sir.
Coz. A while
Silence your musical tongue, and let me feast
My eyes with the most ravishing object that
They ever gazed on. There's no miniature
In her fair face, but is a copious theme
Which would, discoursed at large of, make a volume.
What clear arched brows! what sparkling eyes! the lilies
Contending with the roses in her cheeks,
Who shall most set them off. What ruby lips!—
Or unto what can I compare her neck,
But to a rock of crystal? every limb
Proportioned to love's wish, and in their neatness
Add lustre to the riches of her habit,
Not borrow from it.
Lid. You are pleased to shew, sir,
The fluency of your language, in advancing
A subject much unworthy.
Coz. How! unworthy?
By all the vows which lovers offer at
The Cyprian goddess' altars, eloquence
Itself presuming, as you are to speak, you
Would be struck dumb!—And what have you deserved then, [Giovanni and
Sanazarro kneel.
(Wretches, you kneel too late,) that have endeavoured
To spout the poison of your black detraction
On this immaculate whiteness? was it malice
To her perfections? or_____
Fior. Your highness promised
A gracious hearing to the count.
Lid. And prince too;
Do not make void so just a grant.
Coz. We will not:
Yet, since their accusation must be urged,
And strongly, ere their weak defence have hearing,
We seat you here, as judges, to determine
Of your gross wrongs and ours.
[Seats the Ladies in the chairs of state.
And now, remembering
Whose deputies you are, be neither swayed
Or with particular spleen or foolish pity,
For neither can become you.
Char. There's some hope yet,
Since they have such gentle judges.
Coz. Rise, and stand forth, then,
And hear, with horror to your guilty souls,
What we will prove against you. Could this princess,
Thou enemy to thyself, [To SANAZARRO] stoop her high flight
Of towering greatness to invite thy lowness
To look up to it, and with nimble wings
Of gratitude couldst thou forbear to meet it?
Were her favours boundless in a noble way,
And warranted by our allowance, yet
In thy acceptation there appeared no sign
Of a modest thankfulness?
Fior. Pray you forbear
To press that further; 'tis a fault we have
Already heard and pardoned.
Coz. We will then
Pass over it, and briefly touch at that
Which does concern ourself, in which both being
Equal offenders, what we shall speak points
Indifferently at either. How we raised thee,
Forgetful Sanazarro! of our grace,
To a full possession of power and honours,
It being too well known, we'll not remember.
And what thou wert, rash youth, in expectation,
[To GIOVANNI.
And from which headlong thou hast thrown thyself,
Not Florence, but all Tuscany can witness
With admiration. To assure thy hopes,
We did keep constant to a widowed bed,
And did deny ourself those lawful pleasures
Our absolute power and height of blood allowed us;
Made both the keys that opened our heart's secrets,
And what you spake, believed as oracles:
But you, in recompense of this, to him
That gave you all, to whom you owed your being,
With treacherous lies endeavoured to conceal
This jewel from our knowledge, which ourself
Could only lay just claim to.
Giov. 'Tis most true, sir.
Sanaz. We both confess a guilty cause.
Coz. Look on her.
Is this a beauty fit to be embraced
By any subject's arms? can any tire
Become that forehead, but a diadem?
Or, should we grant your being false to us
Could be excused, your treachery to her
In seeking to deprive her of that greatness
(Her matchless form considered) she was born to,
Must ne'er find pardon. We have spoken, ladies,
Like a rough orator, that brings more truth
Than rhetoric to make good his accusation;
And now expect your sentence.
[The Ladies descend from the state.
Lid. In your birth, sir,
You were marked out the judge of life and death,
And we, that are your subjects, to attend,
With trembling fear, your doom.
Fior. We do resign
This chair, as only proper to yourself.
Giov. And, since in justice we are lost, we fly
Unto your saving mercy. [All kneeling.
Sanaz. Which sets oft
A prince, much more than rigour.
Char. And becomes him,
When 'tis expressed to such as fell by weakness,
That being a twin-born brother to affection,
Better than wreaths of conquest.
Hier. Hip. Cont. Alph. We all speak
Their language, mighty sir.
Coz. You know our temper,
And therefore with more boldness venture on it:
And, would not our consent to your demands
Deprive us of a happiness hereafter
Ever to be despaired of, we perhaps
Might hearken nearer to you; and could wish
With some qualification, or excuse,
You might make less the mountains of your crimes,
And so invite our clemency to feast with you.
But you, that knew with what impatiency
Of grief we parted from the fair Clarinda,
Our duchess, (let her memory still be sacred!)
And with what imprecations on ourself
We vowed, not hoping e'er to see her equal,
Ne'er to make trial of a second choice,
If nature framed not one that did excel her,
As this maid's beauty prompts us that she does:—
And yet, with oaths then mixed with tears, upon
Her monument we swore our eye should never
Again be tempted;—'tis true, and those vows
Are registered above, something here tells me.—
Carolo, thou heardst us swear.
Char. And swear so deeply,
That if all women's beauties were in this,
(As she's not to be named with the dead duchess,)
Nay, all their virtues bound up in one story,
(Of which mine is scarce an epitome,)
If you should take her as a wife, the weight
Of your perjuries would sink you. If I durst,
I had told you this before.
Coz. 'Tis strong truth, Carolo:
And yet what was necessity in us
Cannot free them from treason.
Char. There's your error;
The prince, in care to have you keep your vows
Made unto Heaven, vouchsafed to love my daughter.
Lid. He told me so, indeed, sir.
Fior. And the count
Averred as much to me.
Coz. You all conspire
To force our mercy from us.
Char. Which given up,
To aftertimes preserves you unforsworn:
An honour which will live upon your tomb,
When your greatness is forgotten.
Coz. Though we know
All this is practice, and that both are false,
Such reverence we will pay to dead Clarinda,
And to our serious oaths, that we are pleased
With our own hand to blind our eyes, and not
Know what we understand. Here, Giovanni,
We pardon thee; and take from us, in this,
More than our dukedom: love her. As I part
With her, all thoughts of women fly fast from us!
Sanazarro, we forgive you: in your service
To this princess, merit it. Yet let not others
That are in trust and grace, as you have been,
By the example of our lenity,
Presume upon their sovereign's clemency.

Enter CALANDRINO and PETRONELLA.

All. Long live great Cozimo!
Cal. Sure the duke is
In the giving vein, they are so loud. Come on, spouse;
We have heard all, and we will have our boon too.
Coz. What is it?
Cal. That your grace, in remembrance of
My share in a dance, and that I played your part
When you should have drunk hard, would get this signior's grant
To give this damsel to me in the church,
For we are contracted. In it you shall do
Your dukedom pleasure.
Coz. How?
Cal. Why the whole race
Of such as can act naturally fools' parts
Are quite worn out, and they that do survive
Do only zany us: and we will bring you,
If we die not without issue, of both sexes
Such chopping mirth-makers as shall preserve
Perpetual cause of sport, both to your grace
And your posterity; that sad melancholy
Shall ne'er approach you.
Coz. We are pleased in it,
And will pay her portion.— [Comes forward.
May the passage prove,
Of what's presented, worthy of your love
And favour, as was aimed; and we have all
That can in compass of our wishes fall. [Exeunt.

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