Act 5 — [Scene III.][4402]

Her. Dear madam, do not weep. Duch. Y’ are very welcome; I ha’ done; I wo’ not shed a tear more Till I meet Alvarez, then I’ll weep for joy. He was a fine young gentleman, and sung sweetly;5 An you had heard him but the night before We were married, you would ha’ sworn he had been A swan, and sung his own sad epitaph. But we’ll talk o’ the Cardinal. Her. Would his death Might ransom your fair sense! he should not live10 To triumph in the loss. Beshrew my manhood, But I begin to melt. Duch. I pray, sir, tell me,— For I can understand, although they say I have lost my wits; but they are safe enough, And I shall have ’em when the Cardinal dies;— Who had a letter from his nephew, too,15 Since he was slain? Her. From whence? Duch. I know not where he is. But in some bower Within a garden he is making chaplets, And means to send me one; but I’ll not take it; I have flowers enough, I thank him, while I live. Her. But do you love your governor?22 Duch. Yes, but I’ll never marry him; I am promis’d Already. Her. To whom, madam? Duch. Do not you Blush when you ask me that? Must not you be25 My husband? I know why, but that’s a secret. Indeed, if you believe me, I do love No man alive so well as you: the Cardinal Shall never know ’t; he’ll kill us both; and yet He says he loves me dearly, and has promis’d30 To make me well again; but I’m afraid, One time or other, he will give me poison. Her. Prevent him, madam, and take nothing from him. Duch. Why, do you think ’t will hurt me? Her. It will kill you. Duch. I shall but die, and meet my dear-lov’d lord,35 Whom, when I have kist, I’ll come again and work A bracelet of my hair for you to carry him, When you are going to Heaven; the posy shall Be my own name, in little tears, that I Will weep next winter, which congeal’d i’ th’ frost,40 Will show like seed-pearl. You’ll deliver it? I know he’ll love, and wear it for my sake. Her. She is quite lost. Duch. I pray give me, sir, your pardon: I know I talk not wisely; but if you had The burthen of my sorrow, you would miss45 Sometimes your better reason. Now I’m well; What will you do when the Cardinal comes? He must not see you for the world. Her. He sha’ not; I’ll take my leave before he come. Duch. Nay, stay; I shall have no friend left me when you go.50 He will but sup; he sha’ not stay to lie with me. I have the picture of my lord abed; Three are too much this weather.

Pla. Madam, the Cardinal. Her. He shall sup with the devil. Duch. I dare not stay; The red cock[4403] will be angry. I’ll come again.55 Exeunt [Duchess and Placentia.] Her. This sorrow is no fable. Now I find My curiosity is sadly satisfied.— Ha! if the duchess in her straggled wits Let fall words to betray me to the Cardinal, The panther will not leap more fierce to meet60 His prey, when a long want of food hath parch’d His starved maw, than he to print his rage, And tear my heart-strings. Everything is fatal; And yet she talk’d sometimes with chain of sense, And said she lov’d me. Ha! they come not yet. I have a sword about me, and I left65 My own security to visit death. Yet I may pause a little, and consider Which way does lead me to ’t most honourably. Does not the chamber that I walk in tremble? What will become of her, and me, and all71 The world in one small hour? I do not think Ever to see the day again; the wings Of night spread o’er me like a sable hearse-cloth; The stars are all close mourners too; but I75 Must not alone to the cold silent grave, I must not.—If thou canst, Alvarez, open That ebon curtain, and behold the man, When the world’s justice fails, shall right thy ashes, And feed their thirst with blood! Thy duchess is Almost a ghost already, and doth wear81 Her body like an useless upper garment, The trim and fashion of it lost.—Ha!

Pla. You need not doubt me, sir.—My lady prays You would not think it long; she in my ear85 Commanded me to tell you, that when last She drank, she had happy wishes to your health. Her. And did the Cardinal pledge it? Pla. He was not Invited to’t, nor must he know you are here. Her. What do they talk of, prithee?90 Pla. His grace is very pleasant A lute is heard. And kind to her; but her returns[4404] are after The sad condition of her sense, sometimes Unjointed. Her. They have music. Pla. A lute only,94 His grace prepar’d; they say, the best of Italy, That waits upon my lord. Her. He thinks the duchess Is stung with a tarantula. Pla. Your pardon; My duty is expected. Exit. Her. Gentle lady!— A voice too! Song within. Strep. Come, my Daphne, come away,100 We do waste the crystal day, ’Tis Strephon calls. Dap. What says my love? Strep. Come, follow to the myrtle grove, Where Venus shall prepare New chaplets for thy hair.105 Dap. Were I shut up within a tree, I’d rend my bark to follow thee. Strep. My shepherdess, make haste, The minutes slide too fast. Dap. In those cooler shades will I,110 Blind as Cupid, kiss thine eye. Strep. In thy bosom then I’ll stay; In such warm snow who would not lose his way? Chor. We’ll laugh, and leave the world behind, And gods themselves that see,115 Shall envy thee and me, But never find Such joys, when they embrace a deity. Her. If at this distance I distinguish, ’tis not Church music; and the air’s wanton, and no anthem120 Sung to’t, but some strange ode of love and kisses. What should this mean?—Ha? he is coming hither. [Draws his sword.] I am betray’d; he marches in her hand. I’ll trust a little more; mute as the arras, My sword and I here.125

Car. Wait you in the first chamber, and let none Presume to interrupt us.— Exeunt [Antonelli and Attendants.] She is pleasant; Now for some art, to poison all her innocence. Duch. I do not like the Cardinal’s humour; he Little suspects what guest is in my chamber.130 Car. Now, madam, you are safe. [Embraces her.] Duch. How means your lordship? Car. Safe in my arms, sweet duchess. Duch. Do not hurt me. Car. Not for the treasures of the world! You are My pretty charge. Had I as many lives As I have careful thoughts to do you service,135 I should think all a happy forfeit, to Delight your grace one minute; ’tis a Heaven To see you smile. Duch. What kindness call you this? Car. It cannot want a name while you preserve So plentiful a sweetness; it is love.140 Duch. Of me? How shall I know’t, my lord? Car. By this, and this, swift messengers to whisper Our hearts to one another. Kisses her. Duch. Pray, do you come a wooing? Car. Yes, sweet madam; You cannot be so cruel to deny me.145 Duch. What, my lord? Car. Another kiss. Duch. Can you Dispense with this, my lord?—(Aside.) Alas; I fear Hernando is asleep, or vanish’d from me. Car. [Aside.] I have mock’d my blood into a flame; and what My angry soul had form’d for my revenge,150 Is now the object of my amorous sense. I have took a strong enchantment from her lips, And fear I shall forgive Columbo’s death, If she consent to my embrace.—Come, madam. Duch. Whither, my lord? Car. But to your bed or couch,155 Where, if you will be kind, and but allow Yourself a knowledge, love, whose shape and raptures Wise poets have but glorified in dreams, Shall make your chamber his eternal palace; And with such active and essential streams160 Of new delights glide o’er your bosom, you Shall wonder to what unknown world you are By some blest change translated. Why d’ ye pause, And look so wild? Will you deny your governor? Duch. How came you by that cloven foot? Car. Your fancy Would turn a traitor to your happiness.165 I am your friend; you must be kind. Duch. Unhand me, Or I’ll cry out a rape. Car. You wo’ not, sure? Duch. I have been cozen’d with Hernando’s shadow; Here’s none but Heaven to hear me.—Help! a rape!170 Car. Are you so good at understanding? Then, I must use other argument.

Her. Go to, Cardinal. Strikes him; exit Duchess. Car. Hernando? Murder! treason! help! Her. An army sha’ not rescue thee. Your blood175 Is much inflam’d; I have brought a lancet wi’ me Shall open your hot veins, and cool your fever.— To vex thy parting soul, it was the same Engine that pierc’d[4405] Columbo’s heart. Car. Help! murder! [Stabs him.]

Anton. Some ring the bell, ’t will raise the court;180 My lord is murder’d! ’T is Hernando. The bell rings. Her. I’ll make you all some sport.—[Stabs himself.]—So; now we are even. Where is the duchess? I would take my leave of her, and then bequeath my curse among you. He falls.

King. How come these bloody objects?185 Her. With a trick my sword found out. I hope he’s paid. 1 Lord. [Aside.] I hope so too.—A surgeon For my lord Cardinal! King. Hernando? Duch. Justice! oh, justice, sir, against a ravisher!190 Her. Sir, I ha’ done you service. King. A bloody service. Her. ’T is pure scarlet.

Car. [Aside.] After such care to perfect my revenge, Thus bandied out o’ th’ world by a woman’s plot! Her. I have preserv’d the duchess from a rape.195 Good night to me and all the world for ever. Dies. King. So impious! Duch. ’T is most true; Alvarez’ blood Is now reveng’d; I find my brain return, And every straggling sense repairing home.200 Car. I have deserv’d you should turn from me, sir. My life hath been prodigiously wicked; My blood is now the kingdom’s balm. Oh, sir, I have abus’d your ear, your trust, your people, And my own sacred office: my conscience205 Feels now the sting. Oh, show your charity, And with your pardon, like a cool soft gale, Fan my poor sweating soul, that wanders through Unhabitable climes, and parched deserts. But I am lost, if the great world forgive me,210 Unless I find your mercy for a crime You know not, madam, yet, against your life, I must confess, more than my black intents Upon your honour; you’re already poison’d. King. By whom?215 Car. By me, In the revenge I ow’d Columbo’s loss; With your last meat was mixt a poison, that By subtle, and by sure degrees, must let In death. King. Look to the duchess, our physicians! Car. Stay;221 I will deserve her mercy, though I cannot Call back the deed. In proof of my repentance, If the last breath of a now dying man May gain your charity and belief, receive225 This ivory box; in it an antidote, ’Bove that they boast the great magistral medicine: That powder, mixt with wine, by a most rare And quick access to the heart, will fortify it Against the rage of the most nimble poison,230 I am not worthy to present her with it. Oh, take it, and preserve her innocent life. 1 Lord. Strange, he should have a good thing in such readiness. Car. ’T is that, which in my jealousy and state, Trusting to false predictions of my birth,235 That I should die by poison, I preserv’d For my own safety; wonder not, I made That my companion was to be my refuge.

1 Lord. Here’s some touch of grace. Car. In greater proof of my pure thoughts, I take240 This first, and with my dying breath confirm My penitence; it may benefit her life, But not my wounds. [He drinks.] Oh, hasten to preserve her; And though I merit not her pardon, let not Her fair soul be divorc’d.245

King. This is some charity; may it prosper, madam! Val. How does your grace? Duch. And must I owe my life to him, whose death Was my ambition? Take this free acknowledgment; I had intent, this night, with my own hand250 To be Alvarez’ justicer. King. You were mad, And thought past apprehension of revenge. Duch. That shape I did usurp, great sir, to give My heart more freedom and defence; but when Hernando came to visit me, I thought255 I might defer my execution; Which his own rage suppli’d without my guilt, And when his lust grew high, met with his blood. 1 Lord. The Cardinal smiles. Car. Now my revenge has met With you, nimble duchess! I have took260 A shape[4406] to give my act more freedom too, And now I am sure she’s poison’d with that dose I gave her last. King. Thou’rt not so horrid? Duch. Ha! some cordial. Car. Alas, no preservative Hath wings to overtake it; were her heart265 Lock’d in a quarry, it would search and kill Before the aids can reach it. I am sure You sha’ not now laugh at me. King. How come you by that poison? Car. I prepar’d it, Resolving, when I had enjoy’d her, which270 The colonel prevented, by some art To make her take it, and by death conclude My last revenge. You have the fatal story. King. This is so great a wickedness, it will Exceed belief. Car. I knew I could not live.275 Surg. Your wounds, sir, were not desperate. Car. Not mortal? Ha! were they not mortal? Surg. If I have skill in surgery. Car. Then I have caught myself in my own engine. 2 Lord. It was your fate, you said, to die by poison.280 Car. That was my own prediction, to abuse Your faith; no human art can now resist it: I feel it knocking at the seat of life; It must come in; I have wrackt all my own To try your charities: now it would be rare,285 If you but waft me with a little prayer; My wings that flag may catch the wind; but ’tis In vain, the mist is risen, and there’s none To steer my wand’ring bark. Dies. 1 Lord. He’s dead. King. With him Die all deceived trust. 2 Lord. This was a strange290 Impiety. King. When men Of gifts and sacred function once decline From virtue, their ill deeds transcend example. Duch. The minute’s come that I must take my leave, too. Your hand, great sir; and though you be a king,295 We may exchange forgiveness. Heaven forgive, And all the world! I come, I come, Alvarez. Dies. King. Dispose their bodies for becoming funeral. How much are kings abus’d by those they take To royal grace, whom, when they cherish most By nice indulgence, they do often arm301 Against themselves! from whence this maxim springs: None have more need of perspectives[4407] than kings. Exeunt.

Within. Master Pollard! Where’s Master Pollard, for the epilogue? He is thrust upon the stage, and falls. Epi. [rising.] I am coming to you, gentlemen; the poet Has help’d me thus far on my way, but I’ll Be even with him. the play is a tragedy, The first that ever he compos’d for us,5 Wherein he thinks he has done prettily. Enter Servant. And I am sensible.—I prithee look, Is nothing out of joint? Has he broke nothing? Serv. No, sir, I hope. Epi. Yes, he has broke his epilogue all to pieces.10 Canst thou put it together again? Serv. Not I, sir. Epi. Nor I; prithee be gone. [Exit Serv.]—Hum!—Master poet, I have a teeming mind to be reveng’d.— You may assist, and not be seen in’t now,15 If you please, gentlemen, for I do know He listens to the issue of his cause; But blister not your hands in his applause; Your private smile, your nod, or hem! to tell My fellows that you like the business well;20 And when, without a clap, you go away, I’ll drink a small-beer health to his second day; And break his heart, or make him swear and rage He’ll write no more for the unhappy stage. But that’s too much; so we should lose; faith, shew it,25 And if you like his play, ’t ’s as well he knew it.