The malcontent. By Iohn Marston. 1604

SCENA QVINTA.

A Song.

Whilest the Song is singing, enter Mendozo with his sworde drawne standing ready to murder Ferneze as he flies from the Dutches chamber.

All.

Strike, strike.* 1.1

Aur.

Saue my Ferneze, ô saue my Ferneze.

Enter Ferneze in his shirt, and is receiud vpon Mendoz. sword.

All.

Follow, pershew.

Aur.

O saue Ferneze.

Mend.

Pierce, pierce, thou shallow foole drop there, He that attempts a Princes lawlesse loue, Must haue broad hands, close hart with Argos eyes, And back of Hercules, or els he dyes.

Enter Aurelia, Duke Pietro, Ferrard, Bilioso, Celso and Equato.

All.

Follow, follow,

Mend.

Stand off, forbeare, yee most vnciuill Lords.* 1.2

Piet.

Strike.

Mend.

Do not; tempt not a man resolu'd; Would you inhumane murtherers more then death?

Aur.

O poore Ferneze.

Mend.

Alas now all defence too late.

Aur.

Hee's dead.

Piet.

I am sory for our shame, goe to your bed, Weepe not too much, but leaue some teares to shed When I am dead?

Aur.

What weepe for thee? my soule no teares shall find.

Piet.

Alas, alas, that womens soules are blind.

Mend.

Betraye such beauty? murther such youth? con∣temne ciuilitie, He loues him not that railes not at him.

Piet.

Thou canst not mooue vs, we haue blood inough; And please you Lady we haue quite forgot

All your defects: if not, why then

Aur.

Not.

Piet.

Not: the best of rest, good night.

Exit Pietro with other Courtiers.

Aur.

Despight goe with thee.

Mend.

Madam, you ha done me soule disgrace, You haue wrongd him much, loues you too much. Goe to; your soule knowes you haue.

Aur.

I thinke I haue.

Mend.

Do you but thinke so?

Aur.

Nay sure I haue, my eyes haue witnessed thy loue, Thou hast stood too firme for me.

Mend.

Why tell me faire checkt Lady, who euen in teares Art powerfully beautious, what vnaduised passion Strooke yee into such a violent heate against me, Speake, what mischiefe wrongd vs? what diuell iniur'd vs? Speake?

Aur.

That thing nere worthy of the name of mā; Ferneze, Ferneze swore thou lou'st Emillia, Which to aduance, with most reprochfull breath, Thou both didst blemish and denounce my loue.

Mend.

Ignoble Villaine, did I for this bestride Thy wounded limbs; for this? ranck opposite Euen to my Soueraigne: for this? O God for this? Sunke all my hopes, and with my hopes my life, Ript bare my throate vnto the hangmans Axe, Thou most dishonour'd trunke—Emillia? By life I know her not—Emillia? Did you beleeue him?

Aur.

Pardon me, I did.

Mend.

Did you, and therevpon you graced him?

Aur.

I did.

Mend.

Tooke him to fauour, nay euen claspd with him?

Aur.

Alas I did.

Mend.

This night?

Aur.

This night.

Mend.

And in your lustfull twines the Duke tooke you?

Aur.

A most sad truth.

Mend.

O God, O God, how we dull honest soules, Heauy braind men, are swallowed in the bogs Of a deceitfull ground, whilst nimble bloods, Light iointed spirits pent, cut good mens throats, And scape alas, I am too honest for this age, Too full of fleame▪ and heauy steddinesse: Stood still whilst this slaue cast a noose about me; Nay then to stand in honor of him, and her, Who had euen slic'd my hart.

Aur.

Come I did erre, and am most sorry, I did erre.

Mend.

Why we are both but dead, the Duke hates vs,

''And those whome Princes doe once groundly hate, ''Let them prouide to dye; as sure as fate, ''Preuention is the hart of pollicie.

Aur.

Shall we murder him.

Mend.

Instantly?

Aur.

Instantly, before he casts a plot, Or further blaze my honours much knowne blot, Lets murther him?

Mend.

I would do much for you, will ye marry me?

Aur.

Ile make thee Duke, we are of Medices, Florence our friend, in court my faction Not meanly strength▪ full; the Duke then dead, We well prepar'd for change, the multitude Irresolutely reeling, we in force, Our partie seconded, the kingdome mazde, No doubt of swift successe all shalbe grac'd.

Mend.

You do confirme me, we are resolute, To morrow looke for change, rest confident, Tis now about the immodest waste of night, The mother of moist dew with pall•…•…d light, Spreds gloomy shades about the nummed earth, Sleepe, sleepe, whilst we contriue our michiefes birth, This man ile get inhum'de, farewell, to bed, I kisse thy pillow▪ dreame, the duke is dead.

Exit Aurelia.

So, so, good night, how fortune dotes on impudence, I am in priuate the adopted sonne of yon good Prince, I must be Duke, why if I must, I must, Most silly Lord, name me? O heauen I see God made honest fooles, to maintaine craftie knaues: The dutches is wholy mine too; must kill her husband To quit her shame, mutch: then marry her: I, O •…•… grow prowd in prosperous trecherie, As wrestlers clip, so ile imbrac•…•… you all, Not to support, but to procure your fall.

Enter Maleuole.

Mal.

God arrest thee.

Mend.

At whose suite?

Mal.

At the diuels, ha you treacherous damnable monster, How doost▪ how doost thou treacherous roage, Ha ye•…•… rascall, I am banish the Court, Sirra.

Mend.

P•…•…ethee lets be acquainted, I do loue thee faith.

Mal.

At your seruice, by the Lord law, shals go to supper, Lets be once drunke together▪ and so vnite a most vertu∣ously strengt•…•…ned friendship, shals H•…•…gonot, shals?

Mend.

Wilt •…•…ll vpon my chamber to morrow morne.

Mal.

As a Rauen to a dunghill, they say ther's one dead here p•…•…ickt for the pride of the flesh.

Mend

Fernez: there he is, prey thee bury him.

Mal.

O most willingly, I meane to turne pure Rochell Churchman, I.

Mend.

Thou Churchman, why? why?

Mal

Because ile liue lazely, faile vpon authoritie, deny Kings supremacie in things indifferent, and bee a Pope in mine owne parish.

Mend.

Wherefore doo'st thou thinke Churches were made?

Mal.

To scoure Plough shar•…•… 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉 plough vp Altars:

Et nunc •…•…ges 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉▪

Mend.

Strange.

Mal.

Nay monstrous, I ha seene a sumptuous steeple tur∣ned to a stinking priuie: more beastly, the sacredst place made a Doggs kenill: nay most inhumane, the ston'd cof∣fins of long dead Christians burst vp, and made Hogs∣troughs.

Hic finis Priami.

Shall I ha some sack, and cheese at thy chamber, Good night, good mischiuous incarnate diuill, godnight Mendozo, ha, yee Inhumain villaine godnight, night fub:

Men.

God night: to morrow morne.

Exit Mendozo.

Mal.

I, I will come friendly Damnation, I will come, I doe discrie crosse-poynts, honesty, and court-ship, straddle as farre a sunder, as a true Frenchmans legges.

Ferne.

O!

Mal.

Proclamations, more proclamations.

Fer.

O a Surgion.

Mal.

Hark lust cries for a surgion, what news from Limbe How does the graund cuckold Lucifer.

Fer.

O helpe, helpe, conceale & saue me.

Ferneze stirs & Male. helpes him vp and conuaies him away.

Mal.

Thy shame more then thy wounds do grieue me far, ''Thy woundes but leaue vpon thy flesh some skarre: ''But fame neare heales still ranckl's worse and worse, ''Such is of vncontrolled Lust the cursse. ''Thinke what it is in lawlesse sheetes to lye, ''But ô Ferneze what in lust to die: ''Then thou that shame respects ô flie conuerse, ''With womens eyes and lisping wantonesse: ''Stick candells gainst a virgin walles white back, ''If they not burne, yet at the least theile blacke, Come Ile conuey thee to a priuate porte, Where thou shalt liue (O happy man) from court. The beautie of the daye begins to rize, From whose bright forme Nights heauie shadow flies. Now gins 〈◊〉〈◊〉 plots to worke, the Sceane growes full, And craues 〈◊〉〈◊〉 eyes who hath a sollid Skull.

Exeunt.

Notes

• * 1.1

  Tumult vvithin.
• * 1.2

  Mendozo bestrids the vvounded body of Fer∣neze and seemes to saue him.