Three new playes; viz. The [brace] bashful lover, Guardian, Very woman. As they have been often acted at the private-house in Black-Friers, by His late Majesties Servants, with great applause. / Written by Philip Massenger, Gent. Never printed before.

THE Bashful Lover.

Act. I. Scaen. I.

Enter Gateazzo and Julio.

Jul.

I Dare not cross you sir, but I would gladly (Provided you allow it) render you My personal attendance.

Gal.

You shall better Discharge the duty of an honest servant, In following my instructions which you have Receiv'd already, then in questioning What my intents are, or upon what motives My stay's resolv'd in Mantua: Believe me,

That servant overdoes, that's too officious; And in presuming to direct your master, You argue him of weakness, and your self Of arrogance and impertinence.

Jul.

I have done sir; but what my ends are

Gal.

Honest ones, I know it: I have my bills of exchange, and all provisions Entrusted to you; you have shewn your self Just and discreet, what would you more? and yet To satisfie in some part your curious care, Hear this, and leave me: I desire to be Obscur'd; and as I have demean'd my self These six moneths past in Mantua, I'll continue Unnoted and unknown, and at the best Appear no more then a Gentleman, and a stranger, That travails for his pleasure:

Jul.

With your pardon, This hardly will hold weight, though I should swear it, With your noble friends and brother.

Gal.

You may tell'em, Since you will be my Tutor, there's a rumor (Almost cry'd up into a certainty) Of wars with Florence, and that I am determin'd To see the service: Whatere I went forth, (Heaven prospering my intents) I would come home A Soldier, and a good one.

Jul.

Should you get A Captains place, nay Colonels, 'twould add little To what you are; few of your rank will follow That dangerous profession

Gal.

'Tis the noblest, and Monarchs honor'd in it: But no more on my displeasure.

Jul.

Saints and Angels guard you.

Exit.

Gal.

A war indeed is threatned, nay expected From Florence; but it is 'gainst me already Proclaim'd in Mantua: I find it here,

No forein, but intestine war: I have Defied my self, in giving up my reason A slave to passion, and am led captive Before the battel's fought; I fainted when I only saw mine enemy, and yielded Before that I was charg'd: And though defeated, I dare not sue for mercy; like Ixion I look on Juno, feel my heart turn cinders With an invisible fire: And yet should she Daign to appear cloth'd in a various cloud, The majesty of the substance is so facred, I durst not clasp the shadow: I behold her With adoration, feast my eye, while all My other senses starve; and oft frequenting The place which she makes happy with her presence, I never yet had power with tongue or pen To move her to compassion, or make known What 'tis I languish for; yet I must gaze still, Though it increase my flame: however I Much more then fear I am observ'd and censur'd For bold intrusion.

Walks sadly

Enter Beatrix and Ascanio.

Bea.

Know you, boy, that Gentleman?

Asc.

Who, Monsieur Melancholy? hath not your Honor Marked him before?

Bea.

I have seen him often wait About the Princess lodgings, but ne'r ghess'd What his designs were.

Asc.

No? what a sigh he breath'd now! Many such will blow up the roof; on my small credit There's gunpowder in 'em.

Bea.

How Crack! gunpowder? He's flesh and blood, and devils only carry

Such roaring stuff about 'em: you cannot prove He is or Spirit or Conjurer.

Asc.

That I grant; but he's a Lover, and that's as bad; their sighs Are like petards, and blow all up:

Bea.

A Lover! I have been in love my self, but never found yet That it could work such strange effects.

Asc.

True, Madam, In women it cannot; for when they miss th'enjoying Of their full wishes, all their sighs and heigh-hoes At the worst breed timpanies, and these are cur'd too With a kiss or two of their Saint, when he appears Between a pair of sheets: but with us men The case is otherwise.

Bea.

You will be breech'd, boy, For your physical maxims: But how are you assur'd He is a Lover?

Asc.

Who, I? I know with whom too, But that is to be whisper'd.

Whispers

Bea.

How? the Princess! th'unparallel'd Matilda! Some proof of it; I'll pay for my intelligence.

Gives him gold.

Asc.

Let me kiss Your Honors hand; 'twas ever fair, but now Beyond comparison.

Bea.

I ghess the reason; A giving hand is still fair to the receiver.

Asc.

Your Ladiship's in the right: but to the pur∣pose, He is my Client, and pays his fees as duly As ever Usurer did in a bad cause To his man of law; and yet I get, and take 'em Both easily and honestly: All the service I do him, is to give him notice when And where the Princess will appear; and that I hope's no treason: If you miss him when

She goes to the Vesper or the Mattins, hang me; Or when she takes the air, be sure to find him Near her coach; at her going forth, or coming back: But if she walk, he's ravisht; I have seen him smel out Her footing like a Lime-hound, and knows it From all the rest of her train.

Bea.

Yet I ne'r saw him present her a petition,

Asc.

Nore'r shall: He only sees her, sighs, and sacrifices A tear or two; then vanishes.

Bea.

'Tis most strange: What a sad aspect he wears! but I'll make use of't. The Princess is much troubled with the threats That come from Florence; I will bring her to him, The novelty may afford her sport, and help To purge deep melancholy. Boy, can you stay Your Client here for the third part of an hour? I have some ends in't.

Asc.

Stay him, Madam; fear not: The present receipt of a round sum of crowns, And that will draw most Gallants from their prayers, Cannot drag him from me.

Bea.

See you do.

Asc.

Ne'r doubt me, I'll put him out of his dream. Good morrow Signior.

Gal.

My little friend, good morrow: Hath the Princess Slept well to night?

Asc.

I hear not from her women One murmur to the contrary.

Gal.

Heaven be prais'd for't: Does she go to Church this morning?

Asc.

Troth I know not; I keep no key of her de∣votion, Signior.

Gal.

Goes she abroad? pray tell me.

Asc.

'Tis thought rather She is resolv'd to keep her chamber.

Gal.

Ay me!

Asca.

Why do you sigh? If that you have a business To be dispatch'd in Court, shew ready mony, You shall find those that will prefer it for you.

Gal.

Business! can any man have business, but To see her, then admire her, and pray for her, She being compos'd of goodness? For my self, I find it a degree of happiness But to be near her; and I think I pay A strict religious vow, when I behold her, And that's all my ambition.

Asca.

I believe you: Yet she being absent, you may spend some hours With profit and delight too. After dinner The Duke gives audience to a rough Ambassador, Whom yet I never saw, nor heard his title, Imploy'd from Florence: I'll help you to a place Where you shall see and hear all.

Gal.

Tis not worth my observation.

Asca.

What think you of An excellent Comedy to be presented For his entertainment? He that penn'd it, is The Poet of the time; and all the Ladies (I mean the amorous and learned ones) Except the Princess, will be there to grace it.

Gal.

What's that to me? without her all is no∣thing, The light that shines in Court, Cimerian darkness: I will to bed agen, and there contemplate On her perfections.

Enter Matilda, Beatrix, and two Women.

Asca.

Stay sir! see the Princess, Beyond our hopes.

Gal.

Take that, as Moors salute

The rising Sun with joyful superstition: I could fall down and worship. O my heart!

aside

Like Phoebe breaking through an envious cloud, Or something which no simile can express, She shews to me; a reverend fear, but blended With wonder and amazement, does possess me; Now glut thy self, my famish'd eye.

Bea.

That's he, an't please your Excellence.

1 Wo.

Observe his posture, But with a quarter-look.

2 Wo.

Your eye fix'd on him, will breed astonish∣ment.

Matil.

A comely Gentleman! I would not que∣stion your relation, Lady, Yet faintly can believe it: How he eyes me! Will he not speak?

Bea.

Your Excellence hath depriv'd him Of speech and motion.

Mat.

'Tis most strange.

Asc.

These fits are usual with him.

Mat.

Is it not, Ascanio, A personated folly? or he a statue? If it be, it is a master-piece; for man I cannot think him.

Bea.

For your sport vouchsafe him a little con∣ference.

Mat.

In compassion rather: For should he love me as you say (though hopeless) It should not be return'd with scorn; that were An inhumanity, which my birth nor honor Could priviledge, were they greater. Now I perceive He has life and motion in him; to whom, Lady, Pays he that duty?

Galeaz. bowing, offers to go off.

Bea.

Sans doubt to your self.

Mat.

And whither goes he now?

Asc.

To his private lodging,

But to what end I know not; this is all I ever noted in him.

Mat.

Call him back: In pitty I stand bound to counsel him, Howe'r I am denied, though I were willing To ease his sufferings.

Asc.

Signior, the Princess commands you to attend her.

Gal.

How? the Princess! am I betraid?

Asc.

What a lump of flesh is this? You are betraid, sir, to a better fortune Then you durst ever hope for: What a Tantalus Do you make your self? the flying fruit stays for you, And the water that you long'd for, rising up Above your lip, do you refuse to taste it? Move faster, sluggish Camel, or I will thrust This goad in your breech: Had I such a promising beard, I should need the reins, not spurs.

Mat.

You may come nearer; Why do you shake, sir? If I flatter not My self, there's no deformity about me, Nor any part so monstrous to beget An ague in you.

Gal.

It proceeds not, Madam, from guilt, but re∣verence.

Mat.

I believe you sir; have you a suit to me?

Gal.

Your Excellence is wondrous fair.

Mat.

I thank your good opinion.

Gal.

And I beseech you that I may have licence To kneel to you.

Mat.

A suit I cannot cross.

Gal.

I humbly thank your Excellence.

Mat.

But what, As you are prostrate on your knee before me, Is your petition?

Gal.

I have none, great Princess,

Mat.

Do you kneel for nothing?

Gal.

Yes, I have a suit; But such a one, as if denied, will kill me.

Mat.

Take comfort; it must be of some strange nature, Unfitting you to ask, or me to grant, If I refuse it.

Gal.

It is, Madam, —

Mat.

Out with't.

Gal.

That I may not offend you, this is all, When I presume to look on you.

Asc.

A flat Eunuch! to look on her? I should desire my self. To move a little further.

Mat.

Only that?

Gal.

And I beseech you, Madam, to believe I never did yet with a wanton eye Or cherish one lascivious wish beyond it.

Bea.

You'll never make good Courtier, or be In grace with Ladies.

1 Woman.

Or us Waiting-Women, if that be your Nil ultra.

2 Woman.

He's no Gentleman, on my virginity it is apparent: My Tailor has more boldness, nay my shoo-maker Will fumble a little further, he could not have The length of my foot else.

Mat.

Only to look on me? ends your ambition there?

Gal.

It does, great Lady, And that confin'd too, and at fitting distance: The Fly that plays too neer the flame, burns in it. As I behold the sun, the stars, the Temples, I look upon you, and wish'twere no sin, Should I adore you.

Mat.

Come, there's somthing more in't; And since that you will make a Goddess of me, As such a one, I'll tell you, I desire not The meanest Altar rais'd up to mine honor To be pull'd down; I can accept from you (Be your condition nere so far beneath me) One grain of incense with devotion offer'd, Beyond all perfumes or Sabean spices By one that proudly thinks he merits in it: I know you love me.

Gal.

Next to heaven, Madam, And with as pure a zeal. That we behold With th'eyes of contemplation, but can Arrive no nearer to it in this life; But when that is divorc'd, my soul shall serve yours, And witness my affection.

Mat.

Pray you rise, but wait my further pleasure.

Enter Farneze and Uberti.

Far.

I'll present you, And give you proof I am your friend, a true one; And in my pleading for you, teach the age That cals erroniously Friendship but a name, It is a substance. Madam, I am bold To trench so far upon your privacie, As to desire my friend (Let not that wrong him, For he's a worthy one) may have the honor To kiss your hand.

Mat.

His own worth challengeth a greater favor.

Far.

Your acknowledgment Confirms it, Madam: If you look on him As he's built up a man, without addition Of fortunes liberal favors, wealth or titles, He doth deserve no usual entertainment.

But as he is a Prince, and for your service Hath left fair Parma (that acknowledges No other Lord) and uncompell'd exposes His person to the dangers of war, Ready to break in storms upon our heads; In noble thankfulness you may vouchsafe him Neerer respect, and such grace as may nourish, Not kill his amorous hopes.

Mat.

Cozen, you know I am not the disposer of my self, The Duke my father challengeth that power: Yet thus much I dare promise; Prince Uberti Shall find the seed of service that he sows Fals not on barren ground.

Uber.

For this high favor I am your creature, and profess I owe you Whatever I call mine.

They walk

Gal.

This great Lord is A Suitor to the Princess.

Asca.

True, he is so:

Ga.

Fame gives him out too for a brave Comander

Asca.

And in it does him but deserved right; The Duke hath made him General of his horse On that assurance.

Gal.

And the Lord Farneze pleads for him, as it seems.

Asca.

'Tis too apparent: And this consider'd, give me leave to ask What hope have you sir?

Gal.

I may still look on her, Howe'r he wear the garland.

Asca.

A thin diet, and will not feed you fat, sir.

Uber.

I rejoice, rare Princess, that you are not to be won By Carpet-courtship, but the sword: with this Steel-pen I'll write on Florence helm, how much I can, and dare do for you.

Mat.

'Tis not question'd, Some private business of mine own dispos'd of, I'll meet you in the presence.

Vber.

Ever your servant.

Ex. Vber. Farne.

Mat.

Now sir to you: You have observ'd, I doubt not, (For Lovers are sharp. sighted) to what purpose This Prince sollicites me; and yet I am not So taken with his worth, but that I can Vouchsafe you further parle. The first command That I'll impose upon you, is to hear And follow my good councel: I am not Offended that you love me: persist in it, But love me vertuously, such love may spur you To noble undertakings, which atchiev'd, Will raise you into name, preferment, honor: For all which, though you ne'r enjoy my person, (For that's impossible) you are indebted To your high aims; visit me when you please, I do allow it, nor will blush to own you, (So you confine your self to what you promise) As my vertuous servant.

Bea.

Farewel sir, you have An unexpected Cordial.

Asc.

May it work well.

Exeunt. manet Gal.

Gal.

Your love, yes, so she said, may spur you to Brave undertakings: Adding this, You may Visit me when you please. Is this allowed me, And any act within the power of man Impossible to be effected? no, I will break through all oppositions that May stop me in my full carier to honor; And borrowing strength to do, from her high favor, Add somthing to Alcides greatest labor.

Exit.

Enter Gonzaga, Vberti, Farneze, Manfroy, Attendants.

Gon.

This is your place, and were it in our power, You should have greater honor, Prince of Parma: The rest know theirs; let some attend with care On the Ambassador, and let my Daughter Be present at his audience. Reach a chair, We'll do all fit respects; and pray you put on Your milder looks; you are in a place where frowns Are no prevailing agents.

Enter (at one door) Alonzo and Attendants: Matilda, Beatrix, Ascanio, Galeazo, and Waiting-women (at the other.)

Asc:

I have seen More then a wolf, a Gorgon:

[Swouns]

Gon.

What's the matter?

Mat.

A Page of mine is faln into a swoun, Look to him carefully.

Gon.

Now when you please, the cause that brought you hither?

Alon.

The protraction Of my dispatch forgotten, from Lorenzo The Tuscan Duke, thus much to you Gonzaga The Duke of Mantua: By me his nephew He does salute you fairly, and intreats (A word not suitable to his power and greatness) You would consent to tender that, which he Unwillingly must force, if contradicted. Ambition, in a private man a vice, Is in a Prince the vertue.

Gonza.

To the purpose; these ambages are im∣pertinent.

Alon.

He demands The fair Matilda (for I dare not take From her perfections) in a noble way; And in creating her the comfort of His royal bed, to raise her to a height Her flattering hopes could not aspire, where she With wonder shall be gaz'd upon, and live The envy of her sex.

Gonza.

Suppose this granted.

Uber.

Or if denied, what follows?

Alon.

Present war, with all extremities the Con∣queror can Inflict upon the vanquish'd.

Uber.

Grant me licence To answer this defiance: What intelligence Holds your proud Master with the will of Heaven, That ere th'uncertain Dye of War be thrown, He dares assure himself the victory? Are his unjust invading Arms of fire? Or those we put on in defence of right, Like chaff to be consum'd in the encounter? I look on your dimensions, and find not Mine own of lesser size; the blood that fills My veins, as hot as yours; my sword as sharp, My nerves of equal strength, my heart as good, And confident we have the better cause, Why should we fear the trial?

Far.

You presume you are superior in numbers; we Lay hold upon the surest anchor, vertue; Which when the tempest of the war roars loudest, Must prove a strong protection.

Gonza.

Two main reasons (seconding those you have already heard) Gives us encouragement: The duty that

I owe my mother Country, and the love Descending to my daughter. For the first, Should I betray her liberty, I deserv'd To have my name with infamy raz'd from The catalogue of good Princes: And I should Unnaturally forget I am a father, If like a Tartar, or for fear or profit, I should consign her as a bondwoman To be dispos'd of at anothers pleasure, Her own consent or favor never su'd for, And mine by force exacted. No, Alonzo, She is my only child, my heir; and if A fathers eyes deceive me not, the hand Of prodigal nature hath given so much to her, As in the former ages Kings would rise up In her defence, and makes her cause their quarrel: Nor can she, if that any spark remain To kindle a desire to be possest Of such a beauty, in our time want swords To guard it safe from violence.

Gal.

I must speak, or I shall burst; now to be silent, were A kind of blasphemy. If such purity, Such innocence, an abstract of perfection, The soul of beauty, vertue, in a word, A Temple of things sacred, should groan under The burthen of opprestion, we might Accuse the Saints, and tax the Powers above us Of negligence or injustice. Pardon, sir, A strangers boldness, and in your mercy call it True zeal, not rudeness: In a cause like this, The Husbandman would change his ploughing-irons To weapons of defence, and leave the earth Untill'd, although a general dearth should follow: The Student would forswear his book; the Lawyer Put off his thriving gown, and without pay

Conclude this case is to be fought, not pleaded: The women will turn Amazons, as their sex In her were wrong'd; and boys write down their names I'th' muster-book for soldiers.

Gonza.

Take my hand; Whatev'r you are, I thank you: how are you call'd?

Gal.

Hortensio, a Millanoise.

Gonza.

I wish Mantua had many such. My Lord Ambassador, Some privacie if you please: Manfroy, you may Partake it, and advise us.

They go aside.

Uber.

Do you know, friend, What this man is, or of what country?

Far.

Neither.

Uber.

I'll question him my self; what are you sir?

Gal.

A Gentleman.

Uber.

But if there be gradation In Gentry, as the Heralds say, you have Been overbold in the presence of your betters.

Gal.

My betters, sir?

Uber.

Your betters! as I take it, you are no Prince.

Gal.

'Tis fortunes gift you were born one: I have not heard that glorious title crowns you As a reward of vertue; it may be The first of your house deserv'd it, yet his merits You can but faintly call your own.

Mat.

Well answer'd.

Uber.

You come up to me.

Gal.

I would not turn my back If you were the Duke of Florence, though you charg'd me I'th' head of our troops.

Uber.

Tell me in gentler language, (Your passionate speech induces me to think so) Do you love the Princess?

Gal.

Were you mine enemy, Your foot upon my breast, sword at my throat, Even then I would profess it. The ascent To th'height of honor, is by arts or arms: And if such an unequall'd prize might fall On him that did deserve best in defence Of this rare Princess, in the day of battail I should lead you a way would make your Greatness Sweat drops of blood to follow.

Uber.

Can your Excellence Hear this without rebuke from one unknown? Is he a Rival for a Prince?

Mat.

My Lord, you take that liberty I never gave you: In justice you should give encouragement To him or any man that freely offers His life to do me service, not deter him; I give no suffrage to it: Grant he loves me, As he professes, how are you wrong'd in it? Would you have all men hate me but your self? No more of this I pray you: If this Gentleman Fight for my freedom, in a fit proportion To his desert and quality, I can And will reward him, yet give you no cause Of jealousie or envy.

Gal.

Heavenly Lady!

Gonz.

No peace, but on such poor and base con∣ditions? We will not buy it at that rate: Return This answer to your Master: Though we wish'd To hold fair quarter with him, on such terms As honor would give way to, we are not So thunder-struck with the loud voice of war, As to acknowledg him our Lord before His sword hath made us Vassals: we long since Have had intelligence of the unjust gripe He purpos'd to lay on us; neither are we

So unprovided as you think, my Lord, He shall not need to seek us, we will meet him And prove the fortune of a day, perhaps Sooner then he expects.

Alon.

And find repentance when 'tis too late. Farewell.

[Exit with Farneze.]

Gonza.

No, my Matilda, We must not part so: Beasts and birds of prey To their last gasp defend their brood; and Florence Over thy fathers breast shall march up to thee, Before he force affection: The arms That thou must put on for us and thy self, Are prayers and pure devotion, which will Be heard, Matilda. Mansroy, to your trust We do give up the City, and my daughter; On both keep a strong guard: No tears, they are ominous. O my Octavio, my try'd Octavio In all my dangers! now I want thy service, In passion recompenc'd with banishment. Error of Princes, who hate vertue when She's present with us, and in vain admire her When she is absent! 'Tis too late to think on't: The wish'd for time is come, Princely Uberti, To shew your valour; Friends being to do, not talk. All rhetorick is fruitless, only this, Fate cannot rob you of deserv'd applause, Whether you win or lose in such a cause.

Exeunt.

Act. 2. Scaen. 1.

Enter Matilda, Beatrix, and two Women.

NO matter for the Ring I ask'd you for: The Boy not to be found?

Bea.

Nor heard of, Madam:

1 Wo.

He hath been sought and searcht for, house by house, Nay, every nook of the City, but to no purpose.

2 Wo.

And how he should escape hence, the Lord Manfroy Being so vigilant ore the guards, appears A thing impossible.

Mat.

I never saw him Since he swouned in the presence, when my Father Gave audience to the Ambassador: but I feel A sad miss of him; on any slight occasion He would find out such pretty arguments To make me sport, and with such witty sweetness Deliver his opinion, that I must Ingeniously confess his harmless mirth, When I was most opprest with care, wrought more In the removing of it, then musick on me.

Bea.

An't please your Excellence, I have observ'd him Waggishly witty; yet sometimes on the sudden He would be very pensive, and then talk So feelingly of love, as if he had Tasted the bitter sweets of't.

1 Wo.

He would tell too a pretty tale of a sister that had been

Deceiv'd by her Sweetheart; and then weeping swear He wonder'd how men could be false

2 Wo.

And that when he was a Knight, he would be the Ladies Champion, And travel ore the world to kill such Lovers As durst play false with their Mistresses:

Mat.

I am sure I want his company

Enter Manfroy (with a Letter.)

There are Letters, Madam, In post come from the Duke; but I am charg'd By the careful bringer, not to open them But in your presence.

Mat.

Heaven preserve my Father! Good news, an't be thy will!

Manf.

Patience must arm you against what's ill.

Mat.

I'll hear 'em in my Cabinet:

Exeunt.

Enter Galeazo and Ascanio (with a Ring.)

Gal

Why have you left the safety of the City And service of the Princess, to partake The dangers of the Camp? and at a time too When the Armies are in view, and every minute The dreadful charge expected.

Asc.

You appear so far beyond your self, as you are now Arm'd like a soldier, (though I grant your presence Was ever gracious) that I grow enamour'd Of the profession, in the horror of it There is a kind of majesty.

Gal.

But too heavy to sit on thy soft shoulders, Youth; retire

To the Dukes tent that's guarded.

Asc.

Sir, I come To serve you: Knights adventurers are allow'd Their Pages; and I bring a will that shall Supply my want of power.

Gal.

To serve me, boy! I wish (believe it) that 'twere in my nerves To do thee any service; and thou shalt If I survive the fortune of this day, Be satisfied I am serious.

Asc.

I am not To be put off so, sir: since you do neglect My offer'd duty, I must use the power I bring along with me, that may command you: You have seen this Ring.

Gal.

Made rich by being worne upon the Princess finger.

Asc.

'Tis a favour To you, by me sent from her: view it better; But why coy to receive it?

Gal.

I am unworthy Of such a blessing, I have done nothing yet That may deserve it; no Commanders blood Of th'adverse party hath yet dy'd my sword Drawn out in her defence. I must not take it. This were a triumph for me when I had Made Florence Duke my prisoner, and compell'd him To kneel for mercy at her feet.

Asc.

'Twas sent, sir, To put you in mind whose cause it is you fight for; And as I am her creature, to revenge A wrong to me done.

Gal.

By what man?

Asc.

Alonzo.

Gal.

Th'Ambassador?

Asc.

The same:

Gal.

Let it suffice, I know him by his armor and his horse; And if we meet — I am cut off, the Alarum Commands me hence: sweet Youth, fall off.

Asc.

I must not; you are too noble to receive a wound Upon your back; and following close behind you, I am secure, though I could wish my bosom Were your defence.

Gal.

Thy kindness will undo thee.

Exeunt

Enter Lorenzo, Alonzo, Pisano, Martino.

Lor.

We'll charge the main Battalia, fall you Upon the Van, preserve your Troops intire To force the Rear: he dies that breaks his ranks, Till all be ours and sure.

Pisa.

'Tis so proclaim'd.

Exeunt.

Enter Galeazzo, Ascanio, and Alonzo.

Gal.

'Tis he, Ascanio: Stand!

Alon.

I never shunn'd A single opposition; but tell me Why in the battel, of all men, thou hast Made choice of me?

Gal.

Look on this Youth; his cause Sits on my sword

Alon.

I know him not.

Gal.

I'll help your memory.

Fight

Asc.

What have I done? I am doubtful To whom to wish the victory; for still My resolution wavering, I so love The enemy that wrong'd me, that I cannot Without repentance wish success to him That seeks to do me right. — Alas he's faln. Alonzo falls. As you are gentle, hold sir! or if I want

Power to perswade so far, I conjure you By her lov'd name I am sent from.

Gal.

'Tis a charm Too strong to be resisted: He is yours. Yet why should you make suit to save that life Which you so late desir'd should be cut off For injuries receiv'd, begets my wonder.

Asc.

Alas, we foolish spleenful boys would have We know not what: I have some private reasons, But now not to be told.

Gal.

Shall I take him prisoner?

Asc.

By no means, sir; I will not save his life To rob him of his honor: when you give, Give not by halves: One short word, and I follow.

Exit Galeazo.

My Lord Alonzo, if you have receiv'd A benefit, and would know to whom you owe it, Remember what your entertainment was At old Octavio's house, one you call'd friend, And how you did return it.

Exit.

Alon.

I remember I did not well; but it is now no time To think upon't; my wounded honor calls For reparation, I must quench my fury For this disgrace in blood, and some shall smart for't.

Exit.

Enter Vberti, Farneze(wounded.)

Far.

O Prince Vberti, valour cannot save us; The body of our Army's pierc'd and broken, The wings are routed, and our scattered Troops Not to be rallied up.

Vber

'Tis yet some comfort, The enemy must say we were not wanting In courage or direction; and we may Accuse the powers above us partial, when

A good cause, well defended too, must suffer For want of fortune.

Far.

All is lost; the Duke Too far engag'd, I fear, to be brought off: Three times I did attempt his rescue, but With odds was beaten back: Only the stranger (I speak it to my shame) still follow'd him, Cutting his way; but 'tis beyond my hopes That either should return.

Uber.

That noble stranger, Whom I in my proud vanity of greatness As one unknown contemn'd, when I was thrown Out of my saddle by the great Dukes lance, Hors'd me again in spight of all that made Resistance; and then whisper'd in mine ear, Fight bravely Prince Uberti, there's no way else To the fair Matilda's favour.

Far.

'Twas done nobly.

Uber.

In you, my bosom friend; I had call'd it noble: But such a courtesie from a Rival, merits The highest attribute.

Enter Galeazo and Gonzaga.

Far.

Stand on your guard, we are pursu'd.

Uber.

Preserv'd! wonder on wonder.

Far.

The Duke in safety?

Gon.

Pay your thanks, Farneze, To this brave man, if I may call him so, Whose acts were more then humane: if thou art My better Angel, from my infancie Design'd to guard me, like thy self appear, For sure thou art more then mortal.

Gal.

No, great sir, A weak and sinful man, though I have done you Some prosperous service, that hath found your favour, I am lost to my self; but lose not you The offer'd opportunity to delude The hot pursuing enemy: these woods Nor the dark vail of night cannot conceal you, If you dwell long here: You may rise again, But I am faln for ever.

Far.

Rather borne up To the supreme sphere of honor.

Uber.

I confess my life your gift.

Gon.

My liberty: You have snatch'd The wreath of conquest from the Victors head, And do alone in scorn of Lorenzo's fortune Though we are slav'd, by true heroick valour Deserve a triumph.

Uber.

From whence then proceeds this poor dejection?

Gal:

In one suit I'll tell you, Which I beseech you grant: — I lov'd your daughter, But how? as beggers in their wounded fancie Hope to be Monarchs: I long languish'd for her, But did receive no Cordial, but what Despair my rough Physitian prescrib'd me. At length her goodness and compassion found it. And whereas I expected, and with reason, The distance and disparity consider'd Between her birth and mine, she would contemn me, The Princess gave me comfort.

Gon.

In what measure?

Gal.

She did admit me for her Knight and servant, And spurr'd me to do something in this battel Fought for her liberty, that might not blemish So fair a favour.

Gonza.

This you hrve perform'd to th'height of admiration.

Uber.

I subscribe to't, that am your Rival.

Gal.

You are charitable: But how short of my hopes, nay the assurance Of those atchievements which my love and youth Already held accomplisn'd, this days fortune Must sadly answer. What I did, she gave me The strength to do; her piety preserv'd Her Father; and her gratitude for the dangers You threw your self into for her defence, Protected you by me her instrument: But when I came to strike in mine own cause, And to do somthing so remarkable, That should at my return command her thanks And gracious entertainment, then alas I fainted like a coward; I made a vow too (And it is registred) ne'r to presume To come into her presence, if I brought not Her fears and dangers bound in fetters to her, Which now's impossible. — Hark, the enemy Makes his approaches: save your selves, this only Deliver to her Sweetness; I have done My poor endeavours, and pray her not repent Her goodness to me: May you live to serve her, This loss recover'd, with a happier fate, And make use of this sword: Arms I abjure, And conversation of men; I'll seek out Some unfrequented cave, and die Loves martyr.

Exit

Gonza.

Follow him.

Uber.

'Tis in vain; his nimble feet Have born him from my sight.

Gonza.

I suffer for him:

Far.

We share in it, but must not sir forget Your means of safety.

Uber.

In the war I have serv'd you, And to the death will follow you.

Gonz.

'Tis not fit, We must divide our selves. My daughter, if I retain yet A Soveraigns power ore thee, or friends with you, Do, and dispute not; by my example change Your habits: As I thus put off my purple, Ambition dies; this garment of a shepherd Left here by chance will serve; in lieu of it I leave this to the owner. Raise new forces, And meet me at S. Leo's Fort; my daughter, As I commanded Manfroy, there will meet us. The City cannot hold out, we must part, Farewell, thy hand —

Far.

You still shall have my heart.

Exeunt.

Enter Lorenzo, Alonzo, Pisano, Martino, Captains, Soldiers.

Loren.

The day is ours, though it cost dear; yet 'tis not Enough to get a victory, if we lose The true use of it. We have hitherto Held back your forward swords, and in our fear Of ambushes, deferr'd the wish'd reward Due to your bloody toil: But now give freedom, Nay, licence to your fury and revenge; Now glut your selves with prey, let not the night Nor these thick woods give sanctuary to The fear-struck Hares our Enemies: fire these trees, And force the wretches to forsake their holes, And offer their scorch'd bodies to your swords,

Or burn'em as a sacrifice to your angers. Who brings Gonzaga's head, or takes him prisoner, (Which I incline to rather) that he may Be sensible of those tortures, which I vow T'inflict upon him, for denial of His daughter to our bed) shall have a Blank With our hand and signet made authentical, In which he may write down himself, what wealth Or honors he desires

Alon.

The great Dukes will shall be obeyed

Pisa.

Put it in execution.

Mar.

Begirt the wood, and fire it.

Sold.

Follow, follow.

Exeunt.

Enter Farneze (with a Florentine soldiers coat.)

Uberti, Prince Uberti! O my friend Dearer then life! I have lost thee. Cruel fortune, Unsatisfied with our sufferings! We no sooner Were parted from the Duke, and even then ready To make a mutual farewel, when a troop Of the enemies horse fell on us: we were forc'd To take the woods again, but in our flight Their hot pursuit divided us: we had been happy If we had died together; to survive him To me is worse then death, and therefore should not Embrace the means of my escape, though offer'd. When nature gave us life, she gave a burthen, But at our pleasure not to be cast off, Though weary of it; and my reason prompts me, This habit of a Florentine which I took From a dying soldier, may keep me unknown Till opportunity mark me out a way For flight, and with security.

Enter Uberti.

Was there ever such a night of horror?

Far.

My friends voice! I now In part forgive thee, fortune.

Uber.

The wood flames, The bloody sword devours all that it meets, And death in several shapes rides here in triumph. I am like a Stag clos'd in a toil; my life As soon as found, the cruel Huntsmans prey: Why fliest thou then what is inevitable? Better to fall with manly wounds before Thy cruel Enemy, then survive thine honor: And yet to charge him, and die unreveng'd, Meer desperation.

Far.

Heroick spirit!

Uber.

Mine own life I contemn, and would not save it But for the future service of the Duke And safety of his daughter; having means, If I escape, to raise a second Army, And what is nearest to me, to enjoy My friend Farneze.

Far.

I am still his care:

Uber.

What shall I do? If I call loud, the foe That hath begirt the wood, will hear the sound. Shall I return by the same path? I cannot, The darkness of the night conceals it from me: Something I must resolve.

Far.

Let friendship rouze Thy sleeping soul, Farneze: wilt thou suffer Thy friend, a Prince, nay one that may set free Thy captiv'd Country, perish, when 'tis in Thy power with this disguise to save his life? Thou hast liv'd too long, therefore resolve to die;

Thou hast seen thy Country ruin'd, and thy Master Compell'd to shameful flight, the fields and woods Straw'd ore with carkasses of thy fellow-soldiers: The miseries thou art faln in, and before Thy eyes the horror of this place, and thousand Calamities to come; and after all these Can any hope remain? shake off delays, Dost thou doubt yet? To save a Citizen, The conquering Roman in a General Esteem'd the highest honor; can it be then Inglorious to preserve a Prince? thy friend? Uberti, Prince Uberti, use this means Of thy escape; conceal'd in this thou maist Pass through the enemies guards: the time denies Longer discourse; thou hast a noble end, Live therefore mindful of thy dyng friend:

Exit.

Uber.

Farneze, stay thy hasty steps: Farneze! Thy friend Uberti cals thee: 'tis in vain, He's gone to death an Innocent, and makes life The benefit he confers on me, my guilt. Thou art too covetous of anothers safety, Too prodigal, and careless of thine own: 'Tis a deceit in friendship to enjoin me To put this garment on, and live, that he May have alone the honor to die nobly. O cruel piety, in our equal danger To rob thy self of that thou givest thy friend! It must not be, I will restore his gift And die before him. How? where shall I find him? Thou art orecome in friendship; yield Uberti To the extremity of the time, and live: A heavy ransom, but it must be paid. I will put on this habit: pittying Heaven As it loves goodness, may protect my friend, And give me means to satisfie the debt I stand engag'd for; if not, pale despair

I dare thy worst, thou canst but bid me die, And so much I'll force from an enemie.

Exit.

Enter Alonzo, Pisano, Farneze (bound) Soldiers (with torches) Farneze's sword in one of the Soldiers hands.

Alon.

I know him, he's a man of ransom.

Pisa.

True, but if he live 'tis to be paid to me:

Alon.

I forc'd him to the woods.

Pisa.

But my art found him, Nor will I brook a partner in the prey My fortune gave me.

Alon.

Render him, or expect the point of this.

Pisa.

Wer't lightning, I would meet it Rather then be outbrav'd.

Alon.

I thus decide the difference.

Pisa.

My sword shall plead my title.

They fight

Enter Lorenzo, Martino, two Captains.

Lor.

Ha! where learn'd you this discipline? my Commanders Oppos'd 'gainst one another? what blind fury Brings forth this brawl? Alonzo and Pisano At bloody difference! hold, or I tilt At both as enemies. Now speak, how grew This strange division?

Pisa.

Against all right; By force Alonzo strives to reap the harvest Sown by my labour.

Alon.

Sir, this is my prisoner, The purchase of my sword, which proud Pisano That hath no interest in him, would take from me.

Pisa.

Did not the presence of the Duke forbid me, I would say —

Alon.

What?

Pisa.

Tis false.

Lor.

Before my face! Keep 'em asunder. And was this the cause Of such a mortal quarrel? this the base To raise your fury on? the tyes of blood, Of fellowship in arms, respect, obedience To me your Prince and General, no more Prevailing on you? this a price for which You would betray our victory, or wound Your reputation with mutinies? Forgetful of your selves, allegiance, honor? This is a course to throw us headlong down From that proud height of empire, upon which We were securely seared: shall division Oreturn what concord built? If you desire To bath your swords in blood, the enemy Still flies before you: Would you have spoil? the Country Lies open to you. O unheard of madness! What greater mischief could Gonzaga wish us, Then you pluck on our heads? no, my brave Leaders, Let unity dwell in our tents, and discord Be banish'd to our enemies

Alon.

Take the prisoner, I do give up my title.

Pisa.

I desire your friendship, and will buy it: He is yours.

[They embrace.]

Alon.

No man's a faithful Judg in his own cause; Let the Duke determine of him, we are friends sir.

Lor.

Shew it in emulation to oretake The flying foe; this cursed wretch dispos'd of, With our whole strength we'll follow.

Exe. Alonz. and Pisa, embracing.

Far.

Death at length Will set a period to calamity.

I see it in this Tyrants frowns haste to me.

Enter Uberti like a soldier, and shuffles in among 'em.

Lor.

Thou machine of this mischief, look to feel Whate're the wrath of an incensed Prince Can pour upon thee: With thy blood I'll quench (But drawn forth slowly) the invisible flames Of discord, — by thy charms first fetch'd from Hell, Then forc'd into the breasts of my Commanders. — Bring forth the tortures.

Vber.

Hear, victorious Duke, The story of my miserable fortune, Of which this Villain (by your sacred tongue Condemn'd to die) was the immediate cause: And if my humble suit have justice in it, Vouchsafe to grant it.

Lor.

Soldier be brief; our anger can brook no long delay.

Vber.

I am the last Of three sons, by one father got, and train'd up With his best care for service in your wars: My father dyed under his fatal hand, And two of my poor brothers. Now I hear Or fancie wounded by my grief, deludes me, Their pale and mangled ghosts, crying for ven∣geance On perjury and murther. Thus the case stood. — My father (on whose face he he durst not look In equal mart) by his fraud circumvented, Became his Captive: we his sons lamenting Our old sires hard condition, freely offer'd Our utmost for his ransom. That refus'd, The subtile Tyrant for his cruel ends, (Conceiving that our piety might insnare us)

Propos'd my Fathers head to be redeem'd, If two of us would yield our selves his slaves. We upon any terms resolv'd to save him, Though with the loss of life which he gave to us; With an undaunted constancie drew lots (For each of us contented to be one) Who should preserve our Father: I was exempted, But to my more affliction; my brothers Delivered up; the perjur'd Homicide Laughing in scorn, and by his hoary locks Pulling my wretched Father on his knees, Said thus, Receive the Father you have ransom'd; And instantly struck off his head.

Lor.

Most barbarous!

Far.

I never saw this man.

Lor.

One murmur more, I'll have thy tongue pull'd out. Proceed.

Uber.

Conceive, sir, How thunder-struck we stood, being made spectators Of such an unexpected tragedy: Yet this was a beginning, not an end To his intended cruelty; for pursuing Such a revenge, as no Hircanian tigress Rob'd of her whelps durst aim at, in a moment Treading upon my Fathers trunk, he cut off My pious Brothers heads, and threw'em at me. Oh what a spectacle was this! what mountain Of sorrow overwhelm'd me! My poor heartstrings As tenter'd by his tyrannie, crack'd; my knees Beating 'gainst one another, groans and tears Blended together followed; not one passion Calamity ever yet express'd, forgotten. Now mighty sir, (bathing your feet with tears) Your suppliants suit is, that he may have leave With any cruelty revenge can fancie, To sacrifice this Monster, to appease

My Fathers ghost and Brothers.

Lor.

Thou hast obtain'd it; choose any torture; let the memory Of what thy Father and thy Brothers suffer'd Make thee ingenious in it, such a one As Phalaris would wish to be call'd his. Martino, guarded with your soldiers, see The execution done; but bring his head On forfeiture of your own, to us: Our presence Long since was elswhere look'd for.

Ex. cum suit.

Mar.

Soldier to work; take any way thou wils for thy revenge, Provided that he die: his body's thine, But I must have his head.

Uber.

I have already Concluded of the manner: O just heaven, The instrument I wish'd for offer'd me!

Mar.

Why art thou rapp'd thus?

Uber:

In this soldiers hand I see the murtherers own sword, I know it, Yes, this is it by which my Father and My brothers were beheaded: Noble Captain Command it to my hand. Stand forth and tremble; This weapon of late drunk with innocent blood Shall now carouse thine own. Pray, if thou canst; For though the world shall not redeem thy body, I would not kill thy soul.

Far.

Canst thou believe There is a heaven, or hell, or soul? thou hast none. In death to rob me of my fame, my honor, With such a forged lye? tell me thou hangman, Where did I ever see thy face? or when Murder'd thy sire or brothers? look on me And make it good: thou dar'st not.

Uber.

Yes I will

[Unbinds his arms]

In one short whisper, and that told thou art dead.

I am Uberti; take thy sword, fight bravely, We'll live or die together.

Mar.

We are betraid.

Far.

And have I leave once more, brave Prince, to ease

Mar. struck down, the soldiers run away.

My head on thy true bosom?

Uber.

I glory more To be thy friend, then in the name of Prince Or any higher title.

Far.

My preserver!

Uber.

The life you gave to me, I but return; And pardon, dearest friend, the bitter language Necessity made me use.

Far.

O sir, I am Outdone in all; but comforted, that none But you can wear the laurel,

Uber.

Here's no place Or time to argue this; let us flie hence.

Far.

I follow.

Exeunt.

Mar.

A thousand Furies keep you company! I was at the gate of — but now I feel My wounds not mortal; I was but astonish'd, And coming to my self, I find I am Reserv'd for the gallows: there's no looking on Th'enraged Duke, excuses will not serve, I must do something that may get my pardon: If not, I know the worst, a halter ends all.

Exit.

Act. 3. Scaen. 1.

Enter Octavio, (a Book in's hand.)

Oct.

'TIs true, by proof I find it, humane reason Views with such dim eyes what is good or ill, That if the great Disposer of our being Should offer to our choice all worldly blessings, We knew not what to take.— When I was young, Ambition of Court-preferment fir'd me; And as there were no happiness beyond it, I labour'd for't and got it; no man stood In greater favour with his Prince, I had Honors and offices, wealth flow'd in to me, And for my service both in peace and war The general voice gave out I did deserve 'em. But oh vain confidence in subordinate greatness! When I was most secure, it was not in The power of fortune to remove me from The flat I firmly stood on: in a moment My vertues were made crimes, and popular favor (To new-rais'd men still fatal) bred suspition That I was dangerous: which no sooner entred Gonzago's breast, but straight my ruine follow'd: My offices were took from me, my state seis'd on; And had I not prevented it by flight, The jealousie of the Duke had been remov'd With the forfeiture of my head.

[Within Galeaz]

Or shew compassion, or I will force it.

Oct.

Ha! is not poverty safe? I thought proud war that aim'd at kingdoms ruines, The sack of palaces and cities, scorn'd To look on a poor cottage.

Enter Galeazo (with Ascanio in's arms) Gothrio following.

Goth.

What would you have? The devil sleeps in my pocket, I have no cross To drive him from it. Be you or thief, or soldier, Or such a begger as will not be denied, My scrip, my tar-box, hook and coat will prove But a thin purchase; if you turn my inside Outwards, you'll find it true. Searches his scrip.

Gal.

Not any food?

Goth.

Alas sir, I am no glutton, but an under-shepherd, The very picture of famine; judg by my cheeks else: I have my pittance by ounces, and starve my self; When I pay a pensioner, I have an antient mouse, A crum a meal.

[Takes the bottle.]

Gal.

No drop left? Drunkard, hast thou swill'd up all?

Goth.

How? Drunkard, sir! I am a poor man, you mistake me sir: Drunkard's a title for the rich, my betters; A calling in repute, some sell their lands for't, And rore wines better then mony. Our poor beveridg Of buttermilk or whey allaid with water, Ne'r raise our thoughts so high. Drunk! I had never The credit to be so yet.

Gal.

Ascanio, look up dear youth: Ascanio, did thy sweetness Command the greedy enemy to forbear To prey upon it? and I thank my fortune

For suffering me to live, that in some part I might return thy courtesies: And now To heighten my afflictions, must I be Inforc'd, no pittying Angel near to help us, Heaven deaf to my complaints too, to behold thee Die in my arms for hunger? no means left To lengthen life a little? I will open A vein, and pour my blood, not yet corrupted With any sinful act, but pure as he is, Into his famish'd mouth.

Octa.

Young man forbear Thy savage pitty; I have better means To call back flying life.

Goth.

You may believe him, They apply them∣selves to Ascanio. It is his sucking-bottle, and confirms An old man's twice a child; his nurses milk Was ne'r so chargeable: should you put in too For sope and candles, though he sell his flock for't, The baby must have this dug: he swears 'tis ill For my complexion, but wondrous comfortable For an old man that would never die

Oct.

Hope well sir, A temperate heat begins to thaw his numness, The blood too by degrees takes fresh possession On his pale cheeks, his pulse beats high; stand off, Give him more air, he stirs:

[Goth. steals the bottle.]

Goth.

And have I got thee, thou bottle of im∣mortality?

Asca.

Where am I? What cruel hand hath forc'd back wretched life? Is rest in death denied me?

Goth.

O sweet liquor! Were here enough to make me drunk, I might Write my self Gentleman, and never buy A coat of the Heralds.

Oct.

How now slave?

Goth.

I was fainting, A clownlike qualm seis'd on me, but I am Recover'd, thanks to your bottle, and begin To feel new stirrings, gallant thoughts; one draught more Will make me a perfect Signior:

Oct.

A tough cudgel Will take this gentle itch off: Home to my cottage, See all things handsom.

Goth.

Good sir, let me have The bottle along to smell to: O rare perfume!

Ex:

Gal.

Speak once more, dear Ascanio! How he eyes you, Then turns away his face! Look up sweet youth, The object cannot hurt you; this good man Next heaven is your preserver.

Asc.

Would I had perish'd Without relief, rather then live to break His good old heart with sorrow. O my shame! My shame, my never dying shame!

Oct.

I have been Acquainted with this voice, and know the face too: 'Tis she, 'tis too apparent; O my daugbter! I mourn'd long for thy loss; but thus to find thee, Is more to be lamented.

Gal.

How? your daughter!

Oct.

My only child: I murmur'd against heaven Because I had no more; but now I find This one too many. Is Alonzo glutted

[Asc weeps]

With thy embraces?

Gal.

At his name a shower Of tears fals from her eyes: she faints agen. Grave sir, overrule your passion, and defer The story of your fortune: On my life She is a worthy one, her innocence Might be abus'd, but mischiefs self wants power To make her guilty. Shew your self a Father

In her recovery; then as a Judge, When she hath strength to speak in her own cause, You may determine of her.

Oct.

I much thank you For your wise counsel: you direct me sir As one indebted more to years, and I As a pupil will obey you. Not far hence I have a homely dwelling; if you please there To make some short repose, your entertainment Though course, shall relish of a gratitude, And that's all I can pay you. Look up Girl, Thou art in thy Fathers arms.

Gal.

She's weak and faint still: O spare your age! I am young and strong, and this way To serve her is a pleasure, not a burthen: Pray you lead the way.

Oct.

The Saints reward your goodness.

Exeunt.

Enter Manfroy, and Matilda (disguis'd.)

Mat.

No hope of safety left?

Manf.

We are descry'd.

Mat.

I thought, that cover'd in this poor disguise I might have pass'd unknown:

Manf.

A diamond, though set in horn, is still a diamond, And sparkles as in purest gold. We are follow'd: Out of the troops that scour'd the plains, I saw Two gallant horsmen break forth, (who by their Brave furniture and habiliments for the war Seem'd to command the rest) spurring hard towards us; See with what winged speed they climb the hill Like Falcons on the stretch to seise the prey; Now they dismount, and on their hands and knees Orecome the deep ascent that guards us from him. Your beauty hath betraid you; for it can No more be night when bright Apollo shines In our Meridian, then that be conceal'd.

Mat.

It is my curse, not blessing; fatal to My Country, Father, and my self: why did you Forsake the City?

Manf.

'Twas the Dukes command, No time to argue that; we must descend: If undiscover'd your soft feet (unus'd To such rough travail) can but carry you Half a league hence, I know a cave which will. Yield us protection.

Mat.

I wish I could lend you Part of my speed; for me, I can outstrip Daphne or Atalanta.

Manf.

Some good Angel Defend us, and strike blind our hot pursuers.

Exeunt.

Enter Alonzo and Pisano.

Alon.

She cannot be far off; how gloriously She shew'd to us in the valley!

Pisa.

In my thought Like to a blazing Comet:

Alon.

Brighter far: Her beams of beauty made the hill all fire; From whence remov'd, 'tis cover'd with thick clouds. But we lose time; I'll take that way.

Pisa.

I this.

Exeunt.

Enter Galeazo.

'Tis a degree of comfort in my sorrow. I have done one good work in reconciling Maria, long hid in Ascanio's habit, To griev'd Octavio: what a sympathie I found in their affections! she with tears Making a free confession of her weakness In yielding up her honor to Alonzo,

Upon his vows to marry her: Octavio Prepar'd to credit her excuses, nay T'extenuate her guilt; she the Delinquent, And Judge, as 'twere, agreeing. But to me The most forlorn of men, no beam of comfort Daigns to appear; nor can I in my fancie Fashion a means to get it: To my Country I am lost for ever, and 'twere impudence To think of a return; yet this I could Endure with patience: But to be divorc'd From all my joy on earth, the happiness To look upon the excellence of nature, That is perfection in heself, and needs not Addition or epithite, Rare Matilda, Would make a Saint blaspheme. Here Galeazo In this obscure abode 'tis fit thou shouldst Consume thy youth, and grow old in lamenting Thy star crost fortune, in this shepherds habit; This hook thy best defenc, since thou couldst use (When thou didst fight in such a Princess cause) Thy sword no better.

[Lies down]

Enter Alonzo, Pisano, Matilda.

Mat.

Are you men, or monsters? Whither will you drag me? can the open ear Of heaven be deaf, when an unspotted Maid Cries out for succor!

Pisa.

'Tis in vain; cast lots who shall enjoy her first.

Alon.

Flames rage within me, And such a spring of Nectar neer to quench 'em! My appetite shall be cloy'd first: here I stand Thy friend, or enemy; let me have precedence, I write a friends name in my heart; deny it, As an enemy I defie thee.

Pisa.

Friend or foe In this alike I value, I disdain To yield priority; draw thy sword.

Alon.

To sheath it in thy ambitious heart.

Mat.

O curb this fury, And hear a wretched Maid first speak!

Gal.

I am marble:

Mat.

Where shall I seek out words, or how re∣strain My Enemies rage, or Lovers? oh the latter Is far more odious: did not your lust Provoke you, for that is its proper name, My chastity were safe; And yet I tremble more To think what dire effects lust may bring forth, Then what as enemies you can inflict, And less I fear it. Be friends to your selves, And enemies to me: Better I fall A sacrifice to your attonement, then Or one, or both should perish. I am the cause Of your division; remove it, Lords, And concord will spring up: poison this face That hath bewitch'd you; this grove cannot want Aspicks or Toads, creatures though justly call'd For their deformity the scorn of nature, More happy then my self with this false beauty (The seed and fruit of mischief) you admire so. I thus embrace your knees, and yours a suppliant, If Tigres did not nurse you, or you suck The milk of a fierce Lioness, shew compassion Unto your selves in being reconcil'd, And pitty to poor me, my honor safe, In taking loath'd life from me.

Pisa.

What shall we do? Or end our difference in killing her, Or fight it out?

Alon.

To the last gasp. I feel The moist tears on my cheeks, and blush to find A Virgins plaints can move so.

Pisa.

To prevent Her flight while we contend, let's bind her fast To this Cipress-tree.

Alon.

Agreed.

Mat.

It does presage my funeral rites.

Gal.

I shall turn Atheist, If heaven see and suffer this: why did I Abandon my good sword? with unarm'd hands I cannot rescue her. Some Angel pluck me From the apostasie I am falling to, And by a miracle lend me a weapon To underprop falling honor.

Pisa.

She is fast, resume your arms.

Alon.

Honor, revenge, the Maid too Lie at the stake.

Pisa.

Which thus I draw —

They fight, Pisano fals.

Alon.

All's mine, But bought with some blood of mine own: Pisano, Thou wert a noble Enemy; wear that laurel In death to comfort thee; for the reward, 'Tis mine now without Rival.

Galeazo snatches up Pisano's sword.

Gal.

Thou art deceiv'd; Men will grow up like to the Dragons teeth From Cadmus helm sown in the field of Mars, To guard pure Chastity from lust and rape. Libidinous monster, Satyre, Fawn, or what Does better speak thee slave to appetite And sensual baseness; if thy profane hand But touch this virgin-temple, thou art dead.

Mat.

I see the aid of Heaven, though slow, is sure.

Alon.

A rustick swain dare to retard my plea∣sure?

Gal.

No swain, Alonzo, but her knight and servant To whom the world should owe and pay obedience; One that thou hast encountred, and shrunk under His arm, that spar'd thy life in the late battel At th'intercession of the Princess page; look on me better.

Mat.

'Tis my vertuous Lover, Under his guard 'twere sin to doubt my safety.

Alon.

I know thee, and with courage will redeem What fortune then took from me.

Gal.

Rather keep

[Fight. Alon. fals.]

Thy Compeer company in death — lie by him A prey for Crows and Vulturs; these fair arms

He unbinds Matilda.

Unfit for bonds, should have been chains to make A Bridegroom happy, though a Prince, and proud Of such captivity: whatsoe'r you are, I glory in the service I have done you; But I intreat you pay your vows and prayers For preservation of your life and honor, To the most vertuous Princess, chaste Matilda: I am her creature, and what good I do You truly may call hers; what's ill, mine own.

Mat.

You never did do ill, my vertuous servant, Nor is it in the power of poor Matilda To cancel such an obligation as With humble willingness she must subscribe to.

Gal.

The Prencess? ha!

Mat.

Give me a fitter name, Your manumissed Bondwoman, but even now In the possession of lust, from which Your more then brave heroick valor bought me; And can I then for freedom unexpected But kneel to you my Patron?

Gal.

Kneel to me! For heav'ns sake rise; I kiss the ground you tread on,

My eyes fix'd on the earth; for I confess I am a thing not worthy to look on you, Till you have sign'd my pardon.

Mat.

Do you interpret The much good you have done me, an offence?

Gal.

The not performing your injunctions to me, Is more then capital: Your allowance of My love and service to you, with admission To each place you made paradise with your presence, Should have inabled me to bring home Conquest. Then, as a sacrifice to offer it At the altar of your favor, had my love Answer'd your bounty or my hopes, an Army Had been as dust before me; whereas I Like a coward turn'd my back, and durst not stand The sury of the Enemy.

Mat.

Had you done nothing In the battel, this last act deserves more Then I, the Duke my father joining with me, Can ever recompence. But take your pleasure, Suppose you have offended in not grasping Your boundless hopes; I thus seal on your lips A full remission.

Gal.

Let mine touch your foot, your hand's too high a favour.

Mat.

Will you force me to ravish a kiss from you?

Gal.

I am intranc'd.

Mat.

So much Desert, and Bashfulness, should not march In the same file: Take comfort, when you have brought me To some place of security, you shall find You have a seat here, a heart that hath Already studied, and vow'd to be thankful.

Gal.

Heaven make me so! oh I am overwhelm'd With an excess of joy! Be not too prodigal,

Divinest Lady, of your grace and bounties At once, if you are pleas'd I shall enjoy 'em, Not taste 'em and expire.

Mat.

I'll be more sparing:

Exeunt.

Enter Octavio, Gothrio, and Maria.

Oct.

What noise of clashing swords, like armor fashion'd Upon an anvile, pierc'd mine ears? the eccho Redoubling the loud sound through all the vallies, This way the wind assures me that it came.

Goth.

Then with your pardon I'll take this.

Oct.

Why sirra?

Goth.

Because, sir, I will trust my heels before All winds that blow in the sky: We are wiser far Then our Grandsires were, and in this I'll prove it; They said, Haste to the beginning of a Feast, (There I am with 'em) but to the end of a Fray, That is apocryphal, 'tis more canonical Not to come there at all; after a strom There are still some drops behind.

Asc.

Pure fear hath made the Fool a Philosopher.

Oct.

See Maria, see! I did not erre; here lie two brave men weltring In their own gore.

Asc.

A pittiful object.

Goth.

I am in a swoun to look on't.

Oct.

They are stiff already.

Goth.

But are you sure they are dead?

Oct.

Too sure, I fear.

Goth

But are they stark dead?

Oct.

Leave prating.

Goth.

Then I am valiant, and dare come nearer to 'em, This fellow without a sword shall be my Patient.

Oct.

Whate'r they are, humanity commands us To do our best endeavour: Run Maria To the neighbour Spring for water; you will find there A wooden dish, the beggers plate, to bring it.

Exit Maria.

Why dost not, dull drone, bend his body, and feel If any life remain?

Goth.

By your leave he shall die first, and then I'll be his Surgeon.

Oct.

Tear ope his doublet, And prove if his wounds be mortal,

Goth.

Fear not me sir; Here's large wound, how it is swoln and impostum'd!

His pocket

This must be cunningly drawn out; should it break,

Puls out his purse.

'Twould strangle him: what a deal of foul matter's here!

His little pocket.

This hath been long a gathering: Here's a gash too On the reme of his belly, it may have matter in it. He was a cholerique man sure: what comes from him

Gold

Is yellow as gold: How troubled with the Stone too!

A Diamond-Ring

I'll cut you for this.

Pisa.

Oh, oh!

Starts up and quakes

Goth.

He roars before I touch him.

Pisa.

Robb'd of my life?

Goth.

No sir, nor of your mony Nor jewel, I keep 'em for you; if I had been A perfect Mountebank, he had not liv'd To call for his fees again.

Oct.

Give me leave, there's hope of his recovery.

Goth.

I had rather bury him quick Then part with my purchase; let his ghost walk, I care not.

Enter Maria (with a dish of water.)

Oct.

Well done Maria, lend thy helping hand; He hath a deep wound in his head, wash off The clotted blood: He comes to himself.

Alon.

My lust! The fruit that grows upon the tree of lust! With horror now I taste it.

Oct.

Do you not know him?

Asc.

Too soon, Alonzo! oh me! though disloyal, Still dear to thy Maria.

Goth.

So they know not My Patient, all's cock-sure: I do not like The Romanish restitution.

Oct.

Rise and leave him, applaud heavens justice.

Asc.

'Twill become me better T'implore its saving mercy.

Oct.

Hast thou no gall? no feeling of thy wrongs?

Asc.

Turtles have none; nor can there be such poison in her breast That truly loves, and lawfully.

Oct.

True, if that love Be plac'd on a worthy subject. What he is, In thy disgrace is publish'd; Heaven hath mark'd him For punishment, and 'twere rebellious madness In thee t'attempt to alter it: Revenge, A soveraign balm for injuries, is more proper To thy rob'd honor. Join with me, and thou Shalt be thy self the Goddess of revenge, This wretch the vassal of thy wrath: I'll make him While yet he lives, partake those torments which For perjur'd Lovers are prepar'd in hell, Before his curs'd ghost enter it. This oil Extracted and sublim'd from all the simples The earth when swoln with venom e'r brought forth,

Pour'd in his wounds, shall force such anguish as The Furies whips but imitate; and when Extremity of pain shall hasten death, Here is another that shall keep in life, And make him feel a perpetuity of lingring tortures.

Goth.

Knock'em both on the head, I say, And it be but for their skins; they are embroider'd, And will sell well i'th' market:

Asc.

Ill-look'd Devil, Tie up thy bloody tongue. O sir! I was slow In beating down those propositions which You urge for my revenge; my reasons being So many, and so forcible, that make Against yours, that until I had collected My scatter'd powers, I waver'd in my choice Which I should first deliver. Fate hath brought My Enemy (I can faintly call him so) Prostrate before my feet: shall I abuse The bounty of my fate, by trampling on him? He alone ruin'd me, nor can any hand But his rebuild my late demolish'd honor. If you deny me means of reparation To satisfie your spleen, you are more cruel Then ever yet Alonzo was; you stamp The name of Strumpet on my forehead, which Heavens mercy would take off; you fan the fire Ev'n ready to go out; forgetting that 'Tis truly noble, having power to punish, Nay King-like to forbear it. I would purchase My husband by such benefits, as should make him Confess himfelf my equal, and disclaim superiority.

Oct.

My blessing on thee! What I urg'd, was a trial; and my grant To thy desires shall now appear, if art Or long experience can do him service, Nor shall my charity to this be wanting,

Howe'r unknown: Help me Maria; You sir, Do your best to raise him. — So.

Goth.

He's wondrous heavy; But the Porter's paid, there's the comfort.

Oct.

'Tis but a trance, and 'twill forsake both.

Asc.

If he live, I fear not He will redeem all, and in thankfulness Confirm he ows you for a second life, And pays the debt in making me his wife.

Excunt.

Act. 4. Scaen. 1.

Enter Lorenzo, Captains.

Lor.

MAntua is ours; place a strong garrison in it To keep it so; and as a due reward To your brave service, be our Governor in it.

1 Capt:

I humbly thank your Excellence.

Exit.

Lor.

Gonzaga is yet out of our gripe; but his strong Fort St. Leo, which he holds impregnable By the aids of art, as nature, shall not long Retard our absolute conquest. The escape Of fair Matilda, my supposed Mistress, (For whole desir'd possession 'twas given out I made this war) I value not; alas Cupid's too feeble-ey'd to hit my heart, Or could he see, his arrows are too blunt To pierce it; his imagin'd torch is quench'd With a more glorious fire of my ambition T'enlarge my Empire: soft and silken amours, With Carpet-Courtship, which weak Princes stile

The happy issue of a flourishing peace, My toughness scorns: Were there an abstract made Of all the eminent and canoniz'd Beauties By truth recorded, or by Poets feign'd, I could unmov'd behold it, as a Picture Commend the workmanship, and think no more on't; I have more noble ends. Have you not heard yet Of Alonzo, or Pisano?

2 Cap

My Lord, of neither.

Lor.

Two turbulent spirits unfit for discipline, Much less command in war; if they were lost, I shall not pine with mourning.

Enter Martino, Matilda, Galeazo, and Guard.

Mart.

Bring 'em forward; This will make my peace, though I had kill'd his father, Besides the reward that follows.

Lor.

Ha! Martino? Where is Farneze's head? dost thou stare? and where The soldier that desir'd the torture of him?

Mart:

An't please your Excellence —

Lor.

It doth not please us; are our commands obey'd?

Mart.

Farneze's head, sir, Is a thing not worth your thought, the soldiers less sir: I have brought your Highness such a head, a head So well set on too, a fine head.

Lor.

Take that

Strikes him

For thy impertinence: what head, ye Rascal?

Mart.

My Lord, if they that bring such presents to you Are thus rewarded, there are few will strive To be near your Graces pleasures: but I know You will repent your choler. Here's the head, And now I draw the curtain, it hath a face too, And such a face.

Lor.

Ha!

Mart.

View her all o're, my Lord; My company on't, she's sound of wind and limb, And will do her labour tightly, a Bona Roba: And for her face, as I said, there are five hundred City-dub'd Madams in the Dukedom, that would part with Their Jointures to have such another: Hold up your head, Maid.

Lor.

Of what age is the day?

Mart.

Sir, since Sun-rising about two hours:

Lor.

Thou lyest: the Sun of Beauty In modest blushes on her cheeks, but now Appear'd to me, and in her tears breaks forth As through a shower in April, every drop An orient pearl, which as it fals, congeal'd, Were Ear-rings for the Catholick King, Worn on his birth-day.

Mart.

Here's a sudden change.

Lor.

Incensed Cupid, whom even now I scorn'd, Hath took his stand, and by reflexion shines (As if he had two bodies, or indeed A brother-twin, whom sight cannot distinguish) In her fair eyes; see how they head their arrows With her bright beams, now frown, as if my heart Rebellious to their edicts, were unworthy, Should I rip up my bosom, to receive A wound from such divine artillery.

Mart.

I am made for ever:

Mat.

We are lost, dear servant.

Gal.

Vertue's but a word; Fortune rules all.

Mat.

We are her Tennis-balls.

Lor.

Allow her fair, her symetrie and features So well proportion'd, as the heavenly object With admiration would strike Ovid dumb, Nay force him to forget his faculty In verse, and celebrate her praise in prose:

What's this to me? I that have pass'd my youth Unscorch'd with wanton fires, my sole delight In glittering arms, my conquering sword my mistress; Neighing of barbed horfe, the cries and groans Of vanquish'd foes suing for life, my musick: And shall I in the Autumn of my age, Now when I wear the livery of time Upon my head and beard, suffer my self To be transform'd, and like a puling Lover With arms thus folded up, eccho Ay me's! And write my self a Bondman to my Vassal? It must not, nay it shall not be: Remove The object, and the effect dies. Nearer, Martino:

Mart.

I shall have a Regiment, Colonel Martino, I cannot go less.

Lor.

What thing is this thou hast brought me?

Mart.

What thing? Heaven bless me, are you a Florentine? Nay, the Great Duke of Florentines, and having had her So long in your power, do you now ask what she is? Take her aside and learn; I have brought you that I look to be dearly paid for.

Lor.

I am a Soldier; and use of women will, Mar∣tino, rob My nerves of strength.

Mart.

All armor, and no smock? Abominable! A little of the one with the other Is excellent: I ne'r knew General yet, Nor Prince that did deserve to be a Worthy, But he desir'd to have his sweat wash'd off By a juicie Bedfellow.

Lor.

But say she be unwilling to do that office?

Mart.

Wrastle with her, I will wager Ten to one on your Graces side.

Lor.

Slave, hast thou brought me

Temptation in a Beauty not to be With prayers resisted; and in place of councel To master my affections, and to guard My honor now besieg'd by lust, with the arms Of sober temperance, mark me out a way To be a ravisher? Would thou hadst shewn me Some monster, though in a more ugly form Then Nile or Africk ever bred. The Basilisk (Whose envious eye yet never brook'd a neighbour) Kills but the body; Her more potent eye Buries alive mine honor: shall I yield thus? And all brave thoughts of victory and triumphs, The spoils of Nations, the loud applauses Of happy subjects made so by my conquests; And what's the crown of all, a glorious name Insculp'd on Pyramids to posterity, Be drench'd in Lethe, and no object take me But a weak Woman, rich in colours only, Too delicate a touch, and some rare features Which age or sudden sickness will take from her, And where's then the reward of all my service? Love-soothing passions, nay idolatry I must pay to her. Hence, and with thee take This second, but more dangerous Pandora, Whose fatal box, if open'd, will pour on me All mischiefs that mankind is subject to. To the desarts with this Circe, this Calipso, This fair Inchantress; let her spels and charms Work upon beasts and thee, then whom wise nature Ne'r made a viler creature.

Mat.

Happy exile!

Gal.

Some spark of hope remains yet.

Mart.

Come, you are mine now; I will remove her where your Highness shall not Or see or hear more of her: what a sum Will she yield for the Turks Serraglio?

Lor.

Stay, I feel A sudden alteration.

Mart.

Here are fine whimsies.

Lor.

Why should I part with her? can any foul∣ness Inhabit such a clean and gorgeous palace? The fish, the fowl, the beasts may safer leave The elements they were nourish'd in, and live, Then I endure her absence; yet her presence Is a torment to me: Why do I call it so? My sire enjoy'd a woman, I had not been else; He was a compleat Prince, and shall I blush To follow his example? Oh but my choice, Though she gave suffrage to it, is beneath me: But even now in my proud thoughts I scorn'd A Princess, fair Matilda; and is't decreed For punishment, I straight must dote on one What, or from whence I know not? Grant she be Obscure, without a Coat or family, Those I can give; and yet if she were noble, My fondness were more pardonable. Martino, Dost thou know thy prisoner?

Mart.

Do I know my self? I kept that for the Lenvoy; 'tis the daughter Of your enemy, Duke Gonzaga.

Lor.

Fair Matilda! I now call to my memory her picture, And find this is the substance; but her Painter Did her much wrong, I see it:

Mart.

I am sure I tugg'd hard for her, here are wounds can witness, Before I could call her mine.

Lor.

No matter how: Make thine own ransom, I will pay it for her.

Mart.

I knew it would come at last.

Mat.

We are lost again.

Gal.

Variety of afflictions!

Lor.

That his knee that never yet bow'd to mor∣tality,

Kneels

Kisses the earth, happy to bear your weight, I know begets your wonder. Hear the reason, And cast it off, Your beauty does command it: Till now I never saw you; same hath been Too sparing in report of your perfections, Which now with admiration I gaze on. Be not afraid, fair Virgin; had you been Imploy'd to mediate your Fathers cause, My drum had been unbrac'd, my trumpet hung up, Nor had the terror of the war ere frighted His peaceful confines; your demands had been As soon as spoke, agreed to. But you'll answer, And may with reason; Words make no satisfaction For what's in fact committed. Yet take comfort, Something my pious love commands me do, Which may call down your pardon.

Mat.

This expression Of reverence to your person, better suits Takes him up, and kneels. With my low fortune. That you daign to love me, My weakness would perswade me to believe (Though conscious of mine own unworthiness) You being as the liberal eye of heaven Which may shine where it pleases: Let your beams Of favour warm and comfort me, not consume me; For should your love grow to excess, I dare not Deliver what I fear.

Lor.

Dry your fair eyes; I apprehend your doubts, and could be angry If humble love could warrant it, you should Nourish such base thoughts of me: Heaven bear witness, And if I break my vow, dart thunder at me, You are and shall be in my tent as free

From fear of violence, as a cloyster'd Nun Kneeling before the Altar. What I purpose Is yet an Embrion; but grown into form, I'll give you power to be the sweet disposer Of blessings unexpected; that your Father, Your Country, people, children yet unborn too, In holy hymns on Festivals shall sing The triumph of your beauty. On your hand Once more I swear it: O imperious Love! Look down, and as I truly do repent, Prosper the good ends of thy Penitent.

Exeunt.

Enter Octavio and Maria.

Oct.

You must not be too sudden, my Maria, In being known: I am in this Friars habit As yet conceal'd; though his recovery Be almost certain, I must work him to Repentance by degrees. When I would have you Appear in your true shape of sorrow to Move his compassion, I will stamp thus, then You know to act your part.

Asc.

I shall be careful.

Oct.

If I can cure the ulcers of his mind, As I despair not of his bodies wounds, Felicity crowns my labour. Gothrio!

Goth.

Here sir.

[Ent Gothrio]

Oct.

Desire my Patients to leave their chamber, And take fresh air here: how have they slept?

Goth.

Very well sir, I would we were so rid of 'em.

Oct.

Why?

Goth.

I fear one hath the art of memory, and will Remember his gold and jewels: could you not mi∣nister A potion of forgetfulness? what would Gallants

That are in debt, give me for such a receipt To pour in their Creditors drink?

Oct.

You shall restore all, Believ't you shall: will you please to walk?

Goth.

Will you please to put off Your holy habit, and spic'd conscience? One I think infects the other.

Exit.

Oct.

I have observ'd Compunction in Alonzo: he speaks little, But full of retir'd thoughts: The other is Jocund and merry, no doubt, because he hath The less accompt to make here.

Enter Alonzo:

Alon.

Reverend sir, I come to wait your pleasure; but my friend (Your creature I should say, being so my self) Willing to take farther repose, intreats Your patience a few minutes.

Oct.

At his pleasure; pray you sit down, you are faint still.

Alon.

Growing to strength, I thank your goodness: but my mind is troubled, Very much troubled, sir; and I desire, Your pious habit giving me assurance (please Of your skill and power that way, that you would) To be my my Minds physitian.

Oct.

Sir, to that My order binds me, if you please to unload The burthen of your conscience, I will minister Such heavenly cordials as I can, and set you In a path that leads to comfort.

Alon.

I will open My bosoms secrets to you; that I am A man of blood, being brought up in the wars,

And cruel executions, my profession Admits not to be question'd: but in that Being a subject, and bound to obey Whate'r my Prince commanded, I have left Some shadow of excuse: with other crimes As pride, lust, gluttony, it must be told I am besmear'd all over.

Oct.

On repentance mercy will wash it off.

Alon.

O sir, I grant These sins are deadly ones; yet their frequencie With wicked men, make them less dreadful to us. But I am conscious of one crime, with which All ills I have committed from my youth Put in the scale weigh nothing: such a crime, So odious to heaven and man, and to My sear'd up conscience so full of horror, As penance cannot expiate.

Oct.

Despair not, 'Tis impious in man to prescribe limits To the divine compassion; out with it.

Alonz.

Hear then, good man; and when that I have given you The character of it, and confess'd my self The wretch that acted it, you must repent The charity you have extended towards me. Not long before these wars began, I had Acquaintance ('tis not fit I stile it Friendship, That being a vertue, and not to be blended With vitious breach of faith) with the Lord Octavio, The Minion of his Prince and Court, set off With all the pomp and circumstance of greatness: To this then happy man I offer'd service, And with infinuation wrought my self Into his knowledg, grew familiar with him, Ever a welcom guest. This noble Gentleman Was bless'd with one fair daughter, (so he thought

And boldly might believe so, for she was In all things excellent without a Rival) Till I (her Fathers mass of wealth before My greedy eyes, but hoodwink'd to mine honor) With far more subtle arts then perjur'd Paris Ere practis'd on poor credulous Oenone, Besieg'd her Virgin-fort, in a word took it, No vows or imprecation forgotten With speed to marry her.

Oct.

Perhaps she gave you just cause to break those vows.

Alon.

She cause! alas Her innocence knew no guilt, but too much favor To me unworthy of it: 'twas my baseness, My foul ingratitude, what shall I say more? The good Octavio no sooner fell In the displeasure of his Prince, his state Confiscated, and he forc'd to leave the Court, And she expos'd to want; but all my oaths And protestation of service to her, Like seeming flames rais'd by inchantment, vanish'd; This, this sits heavy here.

Oct.

He speaks as if He were acquainted with my plot: You have reason To feel compunction, for 'twas most inhumane So to betray a Maid.

Alon.

Most barbarous.

Oct.

But does your sorrow for the fact beget An aptness in you to make satisfaction For the wrong you did her?

Alon.

Gracious heaven! an aptness! It is my only study; since I tasted Of your compassion, these eyes ne'r were clos'd, But fearful dreams cut off my little sleep, And being awake in my imagination, Her apparition haunted me.

Oct.

'Twas meer fancie:

He stamps

Alon.

'Twas more, grave sir, nay 'tis, Now it appears.

[Ent. Maria]

Oct.

Where?

Alon.

Do you not see there the gliding shadow Of a fair Virgin? that is she, and wears The very garments that adorn'd her when She yielded to my Crocodile tears: A cloud Of fears and diffidence then so chac'd away Her purer white and red, as it foretold That I should be disloyal. Blessed shadow! For 'twere a sin, far, far exceeding all I have committed, to hope only that Thou art a substance: look on my true sorrow, Nay, souls contrition; hear again those vows My perjury cancell'd, stamp'd in brass, and never To be worn out.

[Ent. Gothrio]

Asc.

I can endure no more; Action, not oaths must make me reparation: I am Maria.

Alon.

Can this be?

Oct.

It is, and I Octavio.

Alon.

Wonder on wonder! How shall I look on you? or with what forehead Desire your pardon?

Asc.

You truly shall deserve it In being constant:

Oct.

If you fall not off, But look on her in poverty with those eyes As when she was my heir in expectation You thought her beautiful.

Alon.

She's in herself both Indies to me.

Goth.

Stay, she shall not come A begger to you, my sweet young Mistress! no, She shall not want a dower: here's white and red Will ask a jointure; but how you should make her

Being a Captain, would beget some doubt, If you should deal with a Lawyer.

Alon.

I have seen this purse:

Goth.

How the worl'ds given, I dare not say to lying, Because you are a Soldier; you may say as well This gold is mark'd too: you being to receive it, Should ne'r ask how I got it. I'll run for a Priest To dispatch the matter; you shall not want a Ring, I have one for the purpose. Now sir, I think I am honest.

Exit.

Alon.

This Ring was Pisano's.

Oct.

I'll dissolve this riddle at better leisure: The wound given to my daughter, which in your honor You are bound to cure, exacts our present care.

Alon.

I am all yours sir.

Exeunt.

Enter Gonzaga, Uberti, Manfroy.

Gonz.

Thou hast told too much to give assurance that Her honor was too far engag'd to be By humane help redeem'd: If thou hadst given Thy sad narration this full period, She's dead; I had been happy.

Uber.

Sir, these tears Do well become a father; and my eyes Would keep you company as a forlorn Lover, But that the burning fire of my revenge Dries up those drops of sorrow. We once more, Our broken forces rallied up, and with Full numbers strengthen'd, stand prepar'd to endure A second trial; nor let it dismay us That we are once again to affront the fury Of a victorious Army; their abuse

Of Conquest hath disarm'd themselves, and call'd down The powers above to aid us. I have read Some piece of story, yet ne'r found but that The General that gave way to cruelty, The profanation of things sacred, rapes Of virgins, butchery of infants, and The massacre in cold blood of reverend age, Against the discipline and law of Arms, Did feel the hand of heaven lie heavy on him, When most secure: We have had a late example, And let us not despair but that in Lorenzo It will be seconded.

Gonz.

You argue well, And 'twere a sin in me to contradict you: Yet we must not neglect the means that's lent us To be the Ministers of Justice.

Uber.

No, sir: One day given to refresh our wearied Troops Tir'd with a tedious march, we'll be no longer Coop'd up, but charge the Enemy in his trenches, And force him to a battel:

[Shouts within]

Gonz.

Ha! how's this? In such a general time of mourning, shouts And acclamations of joy? Long live the Princess! long live Matilda! Within they cry

Uber.

Matilda! the Princess name, Matilda, oft re-eccho'd.

Enter Farneze.

Gonz.

What speaks thy haste?

Far.

More joy and happiness Then weak words can deliver, or strong faith Almost give credit to: The Princess lives, I saw her, kist her hand.

Gonz.

By whom deliver'd?

Far.

That is not to be stall'd by my report, This only must be told: As I rode forth With some choise troops to make discovery Where the Enemy lay, and how intrench'd; a Leader Of th'adverse party, but unarm'd, and in His hand an Olive-branch, encounter'd me; He shew'd the great Dukes seal that gave him power To parly with me: his desires were, that Assurance for his safety might be granted To his royal Master, who came as a friend (And not as an enemy) to offer to you Conditions of peace. I yielded to it. This being return'd, the Dukes Pretorum open'd; When suddenly in a triumphant Chariot Drawn by such soldiers of his own as were For insolence after victory condemn'd Unto this slavish office, the fair Princess Appear'd, a wreath of Laurel on her head, Her robes majestical, their richness far Above all value, as the present age Contended that a womans pomp should dim The glittering triumphs of the Roman Caesars. I am cut off; no Canons throat now thunders, Nor Fife nor Drum beat up a charge; choise Musique Ushers the parent of security, long absent Peace.

Manf.

I know not what to think on't.

Uber.

May it poise the expectation!

Enter Soldiers (unarm'd, with olive-branches) Captains; Lorenzo, Galeazo, Martino, Matilda (a wreath of laurel on her head, in her chariot drawn through them.)

Gonz.

Thus to meet you Great Duke of Tuscany, throws amazement on me:

But to behold my daughter, long since mourn'd for, And lost even to my hopes, thus honour'd by you, With an excess of comfort overwhelms me: And yet I cannot truly call my self Happy in this solemnity, till your Highness Vouchsafe to make me understand the motives That in this peaceful way hath brought you to us.

Lor.

I must crave licence first; for know, Gonzaga, I am subject to anothers will, and can Nor speak nor do without permission from her: My curled forehead, of late terrible To those that did acknowledge me their Lord,

While Lor. speaks, Uberti and the rest present themselves to Matilda.

Is now as smooth as rivers when no wind stirs: My frowns or smiles, that kill'd or sav'd, have lost Their potent awe, and sweetness: I am transform'd (But do not scorn the Metamorphosis) From that fierce thing men held me; I am captiv'd, And by the unresistable force of beauty Led hither as a prisoner. Is't your pleasure that I shall deliver those injunctions which Your absolute command impos'd upon me, Or daign your self to speak 'em?

Mat.

Sir, I am Your property, you may use me as you please; But what is in your power and breast to do, No Orator can dilate so well.

Lor.

I obey you. That I came hither as an enemy With hostile arms, to the utter ruine of Your Country, what I have done, makes apparent: That fortune seconded my will, the late Defeature will make good: That I resolv'd To force the scepter from your hand, and make Your Dukedom tributary, my surprizal Of Mantua your Metropolis can well witness:

And that I cannot fear the change of fate, My Army flesh'd in blood, spoil, glory, conquest Stand ready to maintain: Yet I must tell you By whom I am subdu'd, and what's the ransom I am commanded to lay down.

Gonz.

My Lord, you humble your self too much, 'tis fitter You should propose, and we consent.

Lor.

Forbear, The articles are here subscrib'd and sign'd By my obedient hand: All prisoners Without a ransom set at liberty, Mantua to be deliver'd up; the Rampires Ruin'd in the assault, to be repair'd; The loss the husbandman receiv'd, his crop Burnt up by wanton licence of the soldier To be made good; with whatsoever else You could impose on me, if you had been The Conqueror, I your Captive.

Gonz,

Such a change wants an example: I must owe this favour To the clemencie of the old Heroique valour, That spar'd when it had power to kill; a vertue Buried long since, but rais'd out of the grave By you to grace this latter age.

Lor.

Mistake not The cause that did produce this good effect, If as such you receive it: 'twas her beauty Wrought first on my rough nature; but the vertnes Of her fair soul, dilated in her converse, That did confirm it.

Mat.

Mighty sir, no more: You honor her too much, that is not worthy To be vour servant.

Lor.

I have done, and now Would gladly understand that you allow of The art cles propounded.

Gonz.

Do not wrong Your benefits with such a doubt; they are So great and high, and with such reverence To be receiv'd, that if I should profess I hold my Dukedom from you as your vassal, Or offer'd up my daughter as you please To be dispos'd of, in the point of honor And a becoming gratitude, 'twould not cancel The bond I stand engag'd for: but accept Of that which I can pay, my all is yours sir, Nor is there any here (though I must grant Some have deserv'd much from me) for so far I dare presume, but will surrender up Their interest to that your Highness shall Daign to pretend a title.

Uber.

I subscribe not to this condition

Far.

The services This Prince hath done your Grace in your most danger, Are not to be so slighted.

Gal.

'Tis far from me To urge my merits, yet I must maintain Howe'r my power is less, my love is more; Nor will the gracious Princess scorn to acknowledge I have been her humble servant.

Lor.

Smooth your brows, I'll not incroach upon your right, for that were Once more to force affection (a crime With which should I the second time be tainted, I did deserve no favour) neither will I Make use of what is offer'd by the Duke, Howe'r I thank his goodness: I'll lay by My power; and though I should not brook a Rival, (What we are, well consider'd) I'll descend To be a third Competitor; he that can With love and service best deserve the garland,

With your consent let him wear it; I despair not The trial of my fortune.

Gonz.

Bravely offer'd, and like your self, great Prince.

Uber.

I must profess I am so taken with it, that I know not Which way to express my service.

Gal.

Did I not build Upon the Princess grace, I could sit down, And hold it no dishonor.

Mat.

How I feel My soul divided! all have deserv'd so well, I know not where to fix my choice.

Gon.

You have Time to consider: will you please to take Possession of the Fort? then having tasted The fruits of peace, you may at leisure prove Whose plea will ptosper in the Court of Love.

Exeunt.

Act. 5. Scaen. 1.

Enter Alonzo, Octavio, Pisano, Maria (with a purse) Gothrio.

Alon.

YOu need not doubt sir, were not peace pro∣claim'd And celebrated with a general joy, The high displeasure of the Mantuan Duke, Rais'd on just grounds, not jealous suppositions. The saving of our lives (which next to heaven To you alone is proper) would force mercy For an offence though capital.

Pisa.

When the Conqueror Uses Intreaties, they are arm'd Commands The vanquish'd must not check at.

Asc.

My piety pay the forfeit, If danger come but near you. I have heard My gracious Mistress often mention you, (When I serv'd her as a Page) and feelingly Relate how much the Duke her sire repented His hasty doom of banishment, in his rage Pronounc'd against you.

Oct.

In a private difference, I grant that Innocence is a wall of brass, And scorns the hottest battery: but when The cause depends between the Prince and Subject, 'Tis an unequal competition; Justice Must lay her ballance by, and use her sword For his ends that protects it. I was banish'd, And till revoked from exile, to tread on My Soveraigns territories with forbidden feet,

The severe letter of the Law calls death, Which I am subject to in coming so neer His Court and person. But my onely Child Being provided for, her honor salv'd too, I thank your noble change, I shall endure Whate'r can fall with patience.

Alonz.

You have us'd that medicine too long; prepare your self For honor in your age, and rest secure of't.

Asc.

Of what is your wisdom musing?

Goth.

I am gazing on This gorgeous House, our Cote's a dishclout to it; It has no sign, what do you call't?

Asc.

The Court; I have liv'd in't a Page.

Goth.

Page! very pretty: May I not be a Page? I am old enough, Well timber'd too, and I have a beard to carry it: Pray you let me be your Page, I can swear already Upon your pantable.

Asc.

What?

Goth.

That I'll be true unto your smock.

Asc.

How, Rascal?

Oct.

Hence, and pimp To your Rams and Ews; such foul pollution is To be whipt from Court: I have now no more use of you, Return to your trough.

Goth.

Must I feed on husks, before I have plaid the prodigal?

Oct.

No, I'll reward Your service; live in your own element Like an honest man; all that is mine in the cottage I freely give you.

Goth.

Your Bottles too, that I carry for your own tooth?

Oct.

Full as they are.

Asc.

And gold, that will replenish 'em.

Goth.

I am made for ever, this was done in the nick.

Oct.

Why in the nick?

Goth.

O sir, 'twas well for me that you did reward my service Before you enter'd the Court; for 'tis reported There is a drink of Forgetfulness, which once tasted, Few masters think of their servants, who grown old, Are turn'd off like lame hounds and hunting-horses, To starve on the Commons.

Alonz.

Bitter Knave! there's craft i'the clouted shoo. Captain!

Enter Martino.

Mart.

I am glad to kiss Your valiant hand, and yours: but pray you take notice My title's chang'd, I am a Colonel.

Pisa.

A Colonel! where's your Regiment?

Mart.

Not rais'd yet; All the old ones are cashier'd, and we are now To have a new Militia. All is peace here, Yet I hold my title still, as many do That never saw an Enemy.

Alonz.

You are pleasant, And it becomes you. Is the Duke stirring?

Mar.

Long since, Four hours at least, but yet not ready.

Pisa.

How?

Mart.

Even so; you make a wonder of't, but leave it: Alas, he is not now (sir) in the Camp, To be up and arm'd upon the least alarum; There's something else to be thought on. Here he comes, with his Officers, new rigg'd.

Enter Lorenzo, Doctor, Gent. Page (imployed about him as from his chamber.)

Alon.

A looking-glass! Upon my head he saw not his own face These seven years past, but by reflexion From a bright armor.

Mart.

Be silent, and observe.

Lor.

So, have you done yet? Is your building perfect?

Doct.

If your Highness please, here is a water.

Lor.

To what use? my Barber Hath wash'd my face already.

Doct.

But this water Hath a strange vertue in't, beyond his art; It is a sacred Relique, part of that Most powerful Juice, which with Medea made Old AEson young.

Lor.

A fable; but suppose I should give credit to it, will it work The same effect on me?

Doct.

I'll undertake This will restore the honour'd hair that grows Upon your Highness head and chin, a little Inclining unto gray.

Lor.

Inclining! Doctor:

Doct.

Pardon me, mighty sir, I went too far, Not gray at all; I dare not flatter you, 'Tis something chang'd, but this apply'd will help it To the first amber-colour, every hair As fresh as when, your manhood in the prime, Your Grace arriv'd at thirty.

Lor.

Very well.

Doct.

Then here's a pretious oil (to which the maker

Hath not yet given a name) will soon fill up These dimples in your face and front. I grant They are terrible to your enemies, and set off Your frowns with majesty: but you may please To know (as sure you do) a smooth aspect, Softness and sweetness, in the Court of Love, Though dumb, are the prevailing Orators.

Lor.

Will he new create me?

Doct:

If you daign to taste too Of this Confection.

Lor.

I am in health, and need no physick.

Doct.

Physick sir! an Empress (If that an Empress lungs, sir, may be tainted With putrifaction) would taste of it That night on which she were to print a kiss Upon the lips of her long absent Lord, Returning home with conquest.

Lor.

It is predominant Over a stinking breath, is it not Doctor?

Doct.

Clothe the infirmity with sweeter language, 'Tis a preservative that way.

Lor.

You are then admitted to the Cabinets of great Ladies, And have the government of the borrowed beauties, Of such as write neer forty?

Doct.

True, my good Lord, and my attempts have prosper'd.

Lor.

Did you never minister to the Princess?

Doct.

Sir, not yet; She's in the April of her youth, and needs not The aids of art, my gracious Lord: but in The Autumn of her age I may be useful, And sworn her Highness Doctor, and your Grace partake Of the delight.

Lor.

Slave! Witch! Impostor!

[Kicks him]

Mountebank! Cheater! Traitor to great Nature, In thy presumption to repair what she In her immutable decrees design'd For some few years to grow up, and then wither Or is't not crime enough thus to betray The secrets of the weaker sex, thy patients, But thou must make the honor of this age And envy of the time to come, Matilda, (Whose sacred name I bow to) guilty of A future sin in thy ill-boding thoughts, Which for a perpetuity of youth And pleasure she disdains to act, such is Her purity and innocencce? His foot on the Doctors breast.

Alonz.

Long since I look'd for this Lenvoy.

Mart.

Would I were well off! He's dangerous in these humours.

Oct.

Stand conceal'd.

Doct.

O sir, have mercy! in my thought I never Offended you.

Lor.

Me? most of all, thou monster: What a Mock-man property in thy intent Wouldst thou have made me? a meer Pathick to Thy devilish art, had I given suffrage to it. Are my gray hairs, the ornament of age, And held a blessing by the wiseft men, And for such warranted by holy Writ, To be conceal'd, as if they were my shame? Or plaister up these furrows in my face, As if I were a painted Bawd or Whore? By such base means if that I could ascend To the height of all my hopes, their full fruition Would not wipe off the scandal. No, thou wretch, Thy cozening Water and adulterate Oil I thus pour in thine eyes, and tread to dust Thy loth'd Confection, with thy trumperies: Vanish for ever.

Mart.

You have your fee, as I take it, Dear Domine Doctor! I'll be no sharer with you.

Exit Doctor.

Lor.

I'll court her like my self; these rich adorn∣ments And Jewels, worn by me an absolute Prince, My Order too, of which I am the Soveraign, Can meet no ill construction: yet 'tis far From my imagination to believe She can be taken with sublimed clay, The Silk-worms spoils, or rich Embroderies; Nor must I borrow helps from power or greatness, But as a loyal Lover plead my cause, If I can feelingly express my ardor, And make her sensible of the much I suffer In hopes and fears, and she vouchsafe to take Compassion on me, — Ha! compassion? The word sticks in my throat: what's here that tels me I do descend too low? rebellious spirit, I conjure thee to leave me: there is now No contradiction or declining left, I must and will go on.

Mart.

The tempest's laid; you may present your selves:

Alon.

My gracious Lord!

Pisa.

Your humble Vassal.

Lor.

Ha! both living?

Alon.

Sir, we owe our lives to this good Lord, and make it Our humble suit—

Lor.

Plead for your selves: we stand Yet unresolv'd whether your knees or prayers Can save the forfeiture of your own heads: Though we have put our armor off, your pardon For leaving the Camp without our licence Is not yet sign'd. At some more fit time wait us.

Ex. Lor. and Attendants.

Alon.

How's this?

Mart.

'Tis well it is no worse; I met with A rougher entertainment, yet I had Good cards to shew: He's parcel mad, you'll find him Every hour in a several mood, this foolish Love Is such a shuttlecock; but all will be well When a better fit comes on him, never doubt it:

Exeunt.

Enter Gonzaga, Uberti, Farneze, Manfroy.

Gonz.

How do you find her?

Uber.

Thankful for my service, And yet she gives me little hope; my Rival Is too great for me.

Gonz.

The great Duke you mean.

Uber.

Who else? the Millanois (although he be A compleat Gentleman) I am sure despairs more then my self.

Far.

A high estate, with women, Takes place of all desert.

Uber.

I must stand my fortune.

Enter Lorenzo and Attendants.

Manf.

The Duke of Florence! sir.

Gonz.

Your Highness presence Answers my wish. Your private ear: — I have us'd My best perswasion with a Fathers power To work my daughter to your ends; yet she Like a small Bark on a tempestuous sea Toss'd here and there by opposite winds, resolves not At which port to put in, this Prince's merits, Your grace and favor; nor is she unmindful Of the brave acts (under your pardon sir I needs must call them so) Hortensio Hath done to gain her good opinion of him: All these together tumbling in her fancie,

Do much distract her; I have spies upon her, And am assur'd this instant hour she gives Hortensio private audience; I will bring you Where we will see and hear all.

Lor.

You oblige me.

Uber.

I do not like this whispering.

Gonz.

Fear no foul play.

Exeunt.

Enter Galeazo, and two Waiting-women.

1 Wo.

The Princess, sir, long since expected you; And would I beg a thanks, I could tell you that I have often mov'd her for you.

Gal.

I am your servant.

Enter Matilda.

Beat.

She's come; there are others I must place to hear The conference.

Exit.

1 Wo.

Is't your Excellencies pleasure that we at∣tend you?

Mat.

No, wait me in the gallery.

1 Wo.

Would each of us, Wench, had a Sweet∣heart too! To pass away the time:

2 Wo.

There I join with you.

Ex. Waiting-women.

Mat.

I fear this is the last time we shall meet.

Gal.

Heaven forbid!

Enter (above) Beatrix, Lorenzo, Gonzaga, Uberti, Farneze.

Mat.

O my Hortensio! In me behold the misery of Greatness,

And that which you call Beauty: had I been Of a more low condition, I might Have call'd my will and faculties mine own, Not seeing that which was to be belov'd With others eyes: But now, ay me, most wretched And miserable Princess! in my fortune To be too much engag'd for service done me, It being impossible to make satisfaction To my so many Creditors, (all deserving) I can keep touch with none.

Lor.

A sad Exordiam.

Mat.

You lov'd me long, and without hope, (alas, I die to think on't!) Parma's Prince invited With a too partial report of what I was, and might be to him, left his Country To fight in my defence. Your brave atchievements I'the war, and what you did for me, unspoken, (Because I would not force the sweetness of Your modesty to a blush) are written here. And that there might be nothing wanting to Sum up my numerous engagements (never In my hopes to be cancell'd) the great Duke Our mortal enemy, when my Fathers Country Lay open to his fury, and the spoil Of the victorious Army, and I brought Into his power, hath shewn himself so Noble, so full of honor, temperance, And all vertues that can set off a Prince, That though I cannot render him that respect I would, I am bound in thankfulness to admire him.

Gal.

'Tis acknowledg'd, and on your part to be return'd.

Mat.

How can I, Without the brand of foul ingratitude To you, and Prince Uberti?

Gal.

Hear me, Madam,

And what your servant shall with zeal deliver, As a Dedalean clew may guide you out of This labyrinth of distraction. He that loves His Mistress truly, should prefer her honor And peace of mind, above the glutting of His ravenous appetite: He should affect from her, But with a fit restraint, and not take her To give himself: He should make it the heigth Of his ambition, if it lie in His stretch'd out nerves to effect it, though she flie in An eminent place, to add strength to her wings, And mount her higher, though he fall himself Into the bottomless Abyss; or else The services he offers are not real, But counterfeit.

Mat.

What can Hortensio infer from this?

Gal.

That I stand bound in duty (Though in the act I take my last farewell Of comfort in this life) to sit down willingly, And move my suit no further. I confess, While you were in danger, and Heavens mercy made me Its instrument to preserve you, (which your goodness Priz'd far above the merit) I was bold To feed my starv'd affection with false hopes I might be worthy of you: For know, Madam, How mean soever I appear'd in Mantua, I had in expectation a fortune, Though not possess'd of't, that encourag'd me With confidence to prefer my suit, and not To fear the Prince Uberti as my Rival.

Gonz:

I ever thought him more then what he seem'd.

Lor.

Pray you forbear.

Gal.

But when the Duke of Florence Put in his plea, in my consideration Weighing well what he is, as you must grant him,

A Mars of men in Arms; and those put off, The great example for a Kingly Courtier To imitate: Annex to these his wealth, Of such a large extent, as other Monarchs Call him the King of Coin; and what's above all. His lawful love, with all the happiness This life can fancie, from him flowing to you; The true affection which I have ever borne you, Does not alone command me to desist, But as a faithful Councellor to advise you To meet and welcom that felicity Which hastes to crown your vertues.

Mat.

We must break off this parley. Something I have to say.

[Exe: above]

Mat.

In tears I thank Your care of my advancement; but I dare not Follow your councel: Shall such piety Pass unrewarded? such a pure affection, For any ends of mine, be undervalu'd? Avert it Heaven! I will be thy Matilda, Or cease to be; No other heat but what Glows from thy purest flames, shal warm this bosom; Nor Florence, nor all Monarchs of the earth Shall keep thee from me.

Enter Lorenzo, Gonzaga, Uberti, Farneze, Manfroy, two Waiting-women.

Gal.

I fear, gracious Lady, Our conference hath been oreheard.

Mat.

The better: Your part is acted; give me leave at distance To zanie it, sir, on my knees thus prostrate Before your feet.

Lor.

This must not be, I shall Both wrong my self and you in suffering it.

Mat.

I will grow here, and weeping thus turn marble, Unless you hear and grant the first petition A virgin, and a Princess ever tendred: Nor doth the suit concern poor me alone, It hath a strong reference to you And to your honor; and if you deny it, Both ways you suffer. Remember, sir, you were not Born only for your self; Heavens liberal hand Design'd you to command a potent Nation, Gave you heroick valour, which you have Abus'd in making unjust war upon A neighbour Prince, a Christian; while the Turk, Whose scourge and terror you should be, securely Wastes the Italian Confines: 'tis in you To force him to pull in his horned Crescents, And 'tis expected from you.

Lor.

I have been in a dream, and now begin to wake.

Mat.

And will you forbear to reap the harvest of such glories, Now ripe and at full growth, for the embraces Of a flight woman? or exchange your triumphs For chamber-pleasures? melt your able nerves (That should with your victorious sword make way Through the Armies of your Enemies) in loose And wanton dalliance? Be your self, great sir, The thunderbolt of war, and scorn to sever Two hearts long since united: your example May teach the Prince Uberti to subscribe To that which you allow of.

Lor.

The same tongue That charm'd my sword out of my hand, and threw A frozen numness on my active spirit, Hath dis-enchanted me. Rise, fairest Princess! And that it may appear I do receive

Your councel as inspir'd from heaven, I will Obey and follow it: I am your debtor, And must confess you have lent my weakned reason New strengths once more to hold a full command Over my passions. Here to the world I freely do profess that I disclaim All interest in you, and give up my title Such as it is, to you sir: and as far As I have power, thus join your hands.

Gonz.

To yours I add my full consent.

Uber.

I am lost, Farneze.

Far:

Neerer to the port then you suppose: In me our laws speak, and forbid this contract.

Mat.

Ay me! new stops!

Gat.

Shall we be ever cross'd thus?

Far.

There is an Act upon record, confirm'd By your wise predecessors, that no Heir Of Mantua (as questionless the Princess Is the undoubted one) must be join'd in marriage, But where the match may strengthen the estate And safety of the Dukedom. Now this Gentleman, However I must stile him honorable, And of a high desert, having no power To make this good in his alliance, stands Excluded by our laws: whereas this Prince Of equal merit, brings to Mantua The power and Principality of Parma: And therefore since the great Duke hath let fall His plea, there lives no Prince that justlier can Challenge the Princess favor.

Lor.

Is this true, sir?

Gonz.

I cannot contradict it.

Enter Manfroy.

Manf.

There's an Ambassador

From Milain, that desires a present audience; His business is of highest consequence, As he affirms: I know him for a man Of the best rank and quality.

Gal.

From Milain?

Gonz.

Admit him. — How? so low!

Enter Ambassador, and Julio with a Letter, which he presents on his knee to Galeazo.

Amb.

I am sorry, sir, to be the bringer of this heavy news: But since it must be known —

Gal.

Peace rest with him, I shall find fitter time to mourn his loss. My faithful servant too, Julio!

Jul.

I am orejoy'd to see your Highness safe.

Gal.

Pray you peruse this, And there you'll find that the objection The Lord Farneze made, is fully answer'd.

Gonz.

The great John Galeas dead?

Lor.

And this his brother, the absolute Lord of Milain.

Mat.

I am reviv'd.

Uber.

There's no contending against destiny, I wish both happiness.

Enter Alonzo, Maria, Octavio, Pisano, Martino.

Lor:

Married, Alonzo? I will salute your Lady, she's a fair one, And seal your pardon on her lips.

Gonz.

Octavio, welcom even to my heart! Rise, I should kneel To thee for mercy.

Oct:

The poor remainder of My age shall truly serve you.

Mat.

You resemble a Page I had, Ascanio.

Asc.

I am your Highness servant still.

Lor.

All stand amaz'd At this unlook'd for meeting: But defer Your several stories. Fortune here hath shewn Her various power; but Vertue in the end Is crown'd with laurel: Love hath done his parts too; And mutual friendship after bloody jars, Will cure the wounds received in our wars.

Exeunt omnes.

FINIS.