[SCENE 1.]

Enter Duke, Hatto, and Alfred.

Duke. Bring forth the prisoners: wher's my beauteous Dutches That she may see the ruine of her foes? She that upbraided her with slanderous wordes, She that in scorne of due obedience Hath matcht the honour of the Saxons blood Unto a beggar; let them be brought foorth, I will not rise from this tribunal seate Till I have seene their bodies from their heads.

Alfred. Here comes the Dutches with proud Fredericks hearse.

Enter, Valentia, Montano, Vandermas, with others, bearing the hearse, with Fredericke on, covered with a black robe.

Duke. So, set it downe: why have you honored it With such a sable coverture? A traytor, Deserves no cloth of sorrow: set it downe, And let our other offspring be brought foorth. My beauteous, lovely, and admired love, Come, sit by us in an imperiall chayre, And grace this state throne with a state more fayre.

Valen. My gracious Lord, I hope your Excellence Will not be so forgetfull of your honour, Prove so unnaturall to your loving daughter As to bereave her of her life Because she hath wedded basely gainst your will. Though Fredericke dyed deservedly, yet shee May by her loves death clear her indignitie.

Duke. She and her love we have sentenced to die, Not for her marriage onely, tho that deede Crownes the contempt with a deserved death, But chiefly for she raild against thy worth, Upbraided thee with tearmes so monstrous base That nought but death can cleare the great disgrace. How often shall I charge they be brought foorth? Were my heart guilty of a crime so vilde, I'de rend it forth, then much more kill my childe.

Val. O, that this love may last! 'tis sprung so hie, Like flowers at full growth that grow to die.

Enter Julia, with a vaile over her head, Otho with another, with Officers.

Duke. What means these sable vailes upon their faces?

Val. In signe they sorrow for your high displeasure. For since the houre they were imprisoned, They have liv'd like strangers, hood-winkt together. You may atchieve great fame, victorious Lord, To save the lives of two such innocents.

Duke. Tis pretty in thee, my soule lov'd Dutchesse, To make this Princely motion for thy foes. Let it suffice, the'are traitors to the state, Confederators with those that sought my life, A kinne to Fredericke, that presumptious boy, That durst beare armes against his naturall father: Are they more deare then he? off with their vailes.

Mon. O yet be mercifull unto your daughter.

Duke. You make me mad, headsman; dispatch I say, They are doom'd to die, and this the latest day.

Otho. Then let him strike, who ever traitors be, I am sure no treason lives in her or me.

Duke. How now, whats here? Otho and Julia! Am I deluded? where is Euphrata, And that audacious traitor Constantine?

Otho. Why, fled.

Duke. To whom?

Otho. To safetie, here was none. I can resolve you of the circumstance: Betwixt the noble Constantine and I,— Noble I call him for his virtuous minde— There was a league of love so strongly made That time wants houres, and occasion cause, To violate the contract of our hearts. Yet on my part the breach did first appeare: He brought me to behold his beauteous love The faire Euphrata; her Angel sight Begate in me the fire of private love: I that before did like her for my friend, Now to deceive him, sought her for my selfe; But my device was knowne unto my friend, And worthilie he banisht me his sight.

Duke. Whats this to their destruction? seeke them forth.

Otho. They are far enough from suffering such a death. I, well considering my unfriendly part, Bethought me how to reconcile my self Unto my hearts endeared Constantine; And seeing him carried to the prison, we Followed, and found meanes for their libertie.

Duke. Are they escapt then?

Otho. Both, in our disguise, And we stand here to act their tragedies. If they have done amisse, on us Impose the Law.

Julia. O let our suites prevaile, I ask to dye for my deare Ladies sake.

Otho. I for my friend.

Duke. This friendly part doth make My heart to bleede within me, and my minde Much perplext that I have beene so unkind. What second funerall march is that I heare?

Enter Rainaldo and Alberto, like schollers, grieving before the Beare, others following them with bodies of Euphrata and Constantine covered with blacke.

Alberto. Health to this presence, though the newes Impairing health I bring unto this presence; The bodies of the drowned Constantine And the faire Euphrata, behold them both.

Duke. Of drowned Constantine and Euphrata! Declare the manner, and with killing words Temper thy words, that it may wound my life.

Albert. Passing the Rhine, bordering upon the tower, From whence, it seemes they lately had escapt, By an unskilfull Guide their gundelet[214] Encountred with an other, and the shocke Drown'd both the vessayles, and their haplesse lives. Their bodies hardly were recoverèd;[215] But, knowne, we brought them to your excellence As to a father, that should mourne for them.

Duke. Unto a tyrant, doe not call me father, For I have beene no father to their lives. The barbarous Canniball, that never knew The naturall touch of humane beauty, Would have beene farre more mercifull then I. Oh tyrannic, the overthrow of Crownes, Kingdomes subversion, and the deaths of Kings! Loe here a piteous object so compleate With thy intestine and destroying fruite, That it will strike thee dead! oh Euphrata, Oh princely Fredericke, never deare to me Till now, in you I see my misery. My sonne, my daughter, vertuous Constantine!

Hat. What meanes this griefe, my Lord? these are the traytors That you in justice sentenced to dye.

Alfred. A trecherous sonne and a rebellious daughter.

Valen. Those that did seeke to take away your life.

Mon. Bereave you of your Crownes prerogative.

Duke. Hence from my sight, blood-thirsty Counsellors! They never sought my life, but you have sought it. Vertuous Alberto and Rinaldo, Had I given eare to them and to my sonne, My joyes had flourished, that now are done.

Valen. Yet for my sake allay this discontent.

Duke. Tis for thy sake, thou vilde notorious woman, That I have past the limits of a man, The bonds of nature. 'Twas thy bewitching eye, thy Syrens voice, That throwes me upon millions of disgrace, Ile have thee tortur'd on the Racke, Plucke out those basiliske enchaunting eyes, Teare thee to death with Pincers burning hot, Except thou giue me the departed lives Of my deare childeren.

Valen. What, am I a Goddesse That I should fetch their flying soules from heaven And breath them once more in their clay cold bodies?

Duke. Thou art a witch, a damn'd sorceresse, No goddesse, but the goddesse of blacke hell, And all those devils thy followers. What makes thou, on the earth, to murder men? Will not my sonnes and daughters timelesse[216] lives, Taken away in prime of their fresh youth, Serve to suffice thee?

Valen. O, you are mad, my Lord.

Duke. How can I choose, And such a foule Erynnis gase on me, Such furious legions circle me about, And my slaine Sonne and Daughters fire brands Lying so neere me, to torment my soule? Extremitie of all extremities: Take pitty on the wandering sense of mine Or it will breake the prison of my soule And like to wild fire fly about the world, Till they have no abiding in the world. I faint, I dye, my sorrowes are so great, Oh mortalitie, renounce thy seate. [He fals down.

Valen. The Duke, I feare, is slaine with extreame griefe. I that had power, to kill him, will assay henceforth My utmost industry to save his life. Looke up my Lord, 'tis not Valentias voice, That Courtezan that hath betray'd thy honour, Murder'd thy childeren, and almost slaine thee: I am thy sonne, I am Prince Fredericke; If thou hast any liking for that name, Looke on my face, I come to comfort thee.

Duke. The name of Fredericke is like Hermes wande Able to charme and uncharme sorrowfull men. Who nam'd Fredericke?

Valen. I pronounc't his name, That have the power to give thee thy lost Sonne, Had I like virtue to restore the other. Behold my Lord, behold thy headlesse Sonne Blest with a head, the late deceased living; As yet not fully waken'd from the sleepe, My drowsie potion kindled in his braine, But much about this houre the power should cease; And see, he wakes.

Duke. O happinesse, tis hee.

Valen. Imbrace him then, but ne're more imbrace me.

Fred. Where am I, in what dungeon, wheres my grave? Was I not dead, or dreamt I was dead? This am I sure, that I was poisoned.[217]

Duke. Thou art deceiv'd, my Sonne, but this deceit Is worth commendations; thanke my Dutchesse, Her discretion reedified thy life, But she hath prov'd her selfe a gracious wife.

Fred. She tempt[ed] me to lust; wast in my grave?

Valen. 'Twas but to try thy faith unto thy father: Let it suffice, his hand was at thy death But twas my mercie that proclaim'd thy breath.

Fred. To heaven and you, I render worthy thankes.

Duke. O liv'd my Euphrata and Constantine, How gladly would I all my griefe resigne.

Albert. On that condition, and with this besides, That you be pleas'd to pardon us and them, We doe referre our persons to your mercie.

Duke. My daughter, my deare sonne in law, Vertuous Alberto? then, my friend, My joyes are at the highest, make this plaine How these sav'd drownd, as Fredericke has bin slaine.

Albert. Presuming on the example of these friends, And know we are all actors in this plot Boldly presented your presence, with this minde, If pardoning them your grace would pardon us; If otherwise, this was the joy of either, That death's lesse painefull when friends die together.

Duke. We doe receive you all into our favour, And my faire Dutchesse; my unkind divorce Shall be confounded with a second marriage, I here receive thee once more as my wife.

Val. You have your childeren, I have paid that debt, You have divorc'd me, therefore I am free, And henceforth I will be at libertie.

Duke. Theres no divorce can part thee from thy Lord.

Valen. Like to unkindnesse there is no divorce, I will no more be won unto your bed, But take some course to lament my life mislead.

Duke. Canst thou live better then in sacred wedlock?

Valen. Wedlocke to me is unpleasing, since my Lord Hath broke the band of marriage with unkindnesse.

Duke. Intreate her, children, Fredericke, Euphrata, Let me not loose the essence of my soule.

Fred. Divine Valentia, mirrour of thy sexe, The pride of true reclaim'd incontinence, Honour of the dishonoring, yeeld I pray, And be mercifull, pitty my fathers smart, Since thy last thraldome hath neare cleft his heart.

Euph. 'Twas for his children that his spleene did rise, Anger a torture haunting the most wise.

Valen. O no I am a murderesse, an Erinnis, A fury sent from Limbo to affright Legions of people with my horrid sight.

Hat. What doe you meane? be won by their intreaties.

Alfred. 'Tis madnesse in you to be thus perverse.

Val. Who ever speaks, base wretches, be you dumb; You are the catterpillers of the state, By your bad dealings he is unfortunate. Thou, honorable, true, beloved Lord, Hearken to me, and by thy antient love, I charge thee, banish these realme-sucking slaves, That build their pallace upon poore mens graves. O those are they that have wrong'd both you and me, Made this blest land a land of miserie; And since, by too much loving, your grace hath falne Into a generall hating of your subjects, Redeeme your lost estate with better dayes; So shall you merit never dying praise, So shall you gaine lives quietnesse on earth, And after death a new celestiall birth.

Duke. Unto thy wisedome I referre their doomes, My selfe, my Dukedome, and my crowne. Oh were there anything of higher rate, That unto [t]hee I'de wholly consecrate.

Val. This kind surrender shewes you are a Prince, Worthy to be an Angell in the world Of immortalitie, Which these cursed creatures never can attaine. But that this world may know how much I hate This cruell, base oppression of the poore, First, I enjoyne you for the wrongs you have done, Make restitution; and because your goods Are not sufficient so to satisfie, I doe condemn your bodies to the Mynes, Where live like golden drudges all your lives, In digging of the mettall you best love: Death is your due, but for your noble race This gentle sentence I impose on you: The Duke succeeding shall behold it done.

Duke. Who's that, my love?

Valen. Kind Fredericke, your sonne: The interest that your grace hath given to me, I freely doe impart.

Duke. We doe agree, To what my Dutchesse please.

Valen. The state is thine, Thy Uncles sentence, Fredericke, shall be mine.

Fred. Beare them away, what you have said shall stand, Whilst I have interest in this new given land.

Hat. We doe receive our judgements, with a curse.

Valen. Learne to pray better, or it shall be worse: Lords, see those wormes of kingdomes be destroyed. And now, to give a period to my speeche I doe intreate your grace, if that your love Be not growne colde, but that your heart desires The true societie of a chaste wife, Be pleas'd to undergoe a further doome. Wee haue liv'd too lightly, we have spent our dayes, Which should be dedicated to our God, In soule destroying pleasure, and our sloth Hath drawne upon the Realme a world of plagues.[218] Therefore hereafter let us live together In some removed cell or hermitage, Unto the which poore travellers mislead May have direction and reliefe of wants.

Duke. A hermetary life is better then a kingdome, So my Valentia beare me company.

Valen. If my dread Lord will for my sake endure So strickt a calling, my bewitching haires Shall be made napkins to dry up the teares That true repentance wringeth from our hearts; Our sinnes we'l number with a thousand sighes, Fasting shall be the Steward of our Feast, Continuall prayer in stead of costly cates, And the remainder of our life a schoole To learne new lessons for the land of heaven. The will, where power is wanting, is good payment; Grace doth reject no thought, tho' nere so small, So it be good; our God is kind to all. Come, my deare Lord, this is a course more kind; No life like us that have a heavenly mind.

Mon. O let me be a servant in that life.

Valen. With all my heart, a Partner let him be There's small ambition in humility.

Duke. Fredericke, farewell, deare Euphrata, adue; Remember us in prayer, as we will you.

[Exeunt D. & D

Fred. A happy change: would all that step awry Would take like course in seeking pietie.

Otho. Two humble suites I crave of my best friend: First, pardon for my rashnesse in your love, Next this most loyall Virgin for my wife.

Con. With all my heart, if Julia be pleas'd.

Julia. I have no power to disobey your grant.

Con. Then she is yours.

Fred. Alberto, The offices belonging to our Uncles We doe derive to you for your good service In our late warres, and in our sisters love. And now set forwards: Lords, let us be gone To solemnize two mariages in one.

_The Epilogue.

Encouragement unto the valiant Is like a golden spurre upon the heele Of a young Knight, like to a wreath of Bay To a good Poet; like a sparkeling Crowne, Unto a Kings Son. Honour and renowne Is the efficient and persevering cause Of every well deserved action. Take away some recorde, encouragement, And the World's like a_ Chaos, all delight Buried unborne in everlasting night. Even so it fares with us, and with the rest Of the same facultie, all meerely nothing: Without your favour every labour dyes, Save such whose second springs comes from your eyes. Extend your beames of love to us at full, As the Sunne does unto the Easterne clime, And England may bring forth like India As costly spice, as orientall Jems. The earth's all one, the heate refines the moulde, And favour makes the poorest ground yielde gold.

FINIS.