To all familiar privacy, between
My nephew and your daughter? Or why did you
(Had you no other ends in it but our service)
Read to them, and, together, as they had been
Scholars of one form, grammar, rhetoric,
Philosophy, history, and interpret to them
The close temptations of lascivious poets?
Or wherefore (for we still had spies upon you)
Was she still present, when, by your advice,
He was taught the use of his weapon, horseman
ship,
Wrestling, nay, swimming, but to fan in her
A hot desire of him? And, then, forsooth,
His exercises ended, covered with
A fair pretence of recreation for him,
When Lydia was instructed in those graces
That add to beauty, he brought to admire her,
Must hear her sing, while to her voice, her hand
Made ravishing music; and, this applauded,
dance
A light levalto with her?
Car. Have you ended
All you can charge me with?
Coz. Nor stopped you there,
But they must, unattended, walk into
The silent groves, and hear the amorous birds
Warbling their wanton notes; here, a sure shade
Of barren sycamores, which the all-seeing sun
Could not pierce through; near that, an arbour
hung
With spreading eglantine; there, a bubbling spring
Watering a bank of hyacinths and lillies,
With all allurements that could move to love.
And could this, Charomonte, (should I grant
They had been equals both in birth and fortune,)
Become your gravity? Nay, 'tis clear as air,
That your ambitious hopes to match your daugh-
Into our family, gave convenience to it.
And this, though not in act, in the intent,
I call high treason.
Car. Hear my just defence, sir,
And, though you are my prince, it will not take from
I gloried in (though now it prove a curse),
Was an only daughter. Nor did you command
As a security to your future fears,
To cast her off: Which had you done, howe'er
She was the light of my eyes, and comfort of
My feeble age; so far I prized my duty
Above affection, she now had been
A stranger to my care. But she is fair!
Is that her fault or mine? Did ever father
Hold beauty in his issue for a blemish?
Her education and her manners tempt, too.
If these offend, they're easily removed:
You may, if you think fit, before my face,
In recompense of all my watchings for you,
With burning corrosives transform her to
An ugly leper; and this done, to taint
Her sweetness, prostitute her to a loathsome bro-
thel.
This I will rather suffer, sir, and more,
Than live suspected by you.
Coz. Let not passion
Carry you beyond your reason.
Car. I am calm, sir;
Yet you must give me leave to grieve, I find
My actions misinterpreted. Alas! sir,
Was Lydia's desire to serve the prince
Called an offence? Or did she practice to
Seduce his youth, because, with her best zeal
And fervour, she endeavoured to attend him?
Tis a hard construction-Though she be my
daughter,
I may thus far speak her. From her infancy
She was ever civil, her behaviour nearer
Simplicity than craft; and malice dares not
Affirm, in one loose gesture, or light language,
She gave a sign she was in thought unchaste.
I'll fetch her to you, sir; and but look on her
With equal eyes, you must, in justice, grant
That your suspicion wrongs her.
But I must have stronger assurance of it
Than passionate words. And, not to trifle time,
As we came unexpected to your house,
We will prevent all means that may prepare her
How to answer that, with which we come to
charge her.
Your greatness to acknowledge with a blush,
In this my accusation you have been
More swayed by spleen, and jealous suppositions, And howsoever it may be received
Than certain grounds of reason. You had a fa-As a foul breach of hospitable rites,
(Blest be his memory) that made frequent proofs
Of my loyalty and faith, and, would I boast
The dangers I have broke through in his service,
I could say more. Nay, you yourself, dread sir,
Whenever I was put into the test,
Found me true gold, and not adulterate metal;
And am I doubted now?
Coz. This is from the purpose.
Car. I will come to it, sir; your grace well knew,
Before the prince's happy presence made My poor house rich, the chiefest blessing which
On thy allegiance and boasted faith,
Nay, forfeit of thy head, we do confine thee
Close prisoner to thy charber, till all doubts
Are cleared that do concern us.
Enter GIOVANNI and SANAZARRO, ushering in PETRONELLA. CALANDRINO and others, setting forth a banquet.
Coz. Bring Lydia forth.
Giov. She comes, sir, of herself,
To present her service to you.
Coz. Ha! This personage
Cannot invite affection.
San. See you keep state.
Pet. I warrant you.
Coz. The manners of her mind
Must be transcendent, if they can defend
Her rougher out-side. May we, with your liking,
Salute you, lady?
Pet. Let me wipe my mouth, sir,
Coz. What a sight is this! We could be angry with you.
How much you did belye her, when you told us
With my cambric-handkerchief, and then have She was only simple! This is barbarous rudeness,
Giov. I would not speak her, sir, Worse than she was.
San. And I, my lord, chose rather To deliver her better parted than she is, Than to take from her.
Enter CAUPONI.
Caup. Ere I'll lose my dance,
I'll speak to the purpose. I am, sir, no prologue;
But, in plain terms, must tell you, we are pro-
vided
Of a lusty hornpipe.
Coz. 'Prithee let us have it,
For we grow dull.
Caup. But, to make up the medley,
For it is of several colours, we must borrow
Your grace's ghost here.
Caland. Pray you, sir, depose me; It will not do else. I am, sir, the engine [Rises, and resigns his chair.
By which it moves.
Pet. I will dance with my duke, too;
Coz. Begin, then. There's more in this
Than yet
I have discovered. Some Edipus
Resolve this riddle!
Pet. Did I not foot it roundly? [Falls down.
Coz. As I live, stark-drunk. Away with her.
We'll reward you,
When you have cooled yourselves in the cellar.
Caup. Heaven preserve you. [Exeunt Dancers.
Coz. We pity Charomonte's wretched fortune In a daughter, nay, a monster. Good old man! The place grows tedious: Our removal shall be With speed. We'll only, in a word or two, Take leave and comfort him.
She was presented to you.
Coz. It shall yield
No sport to the contrivers. 'Tis too plain now, Her presence does confirm what Contarino Delivered of her; nor can sickness dim
The splendour of her beauties: being herself, then,
She must exceed his praise.
Lyd. Will your grace hear me? I am faint, and can say little. Coz. Here are accents, Whose every syllable is musical ! Pray you let me raise you, and a-while rest here. False Sanazarro, treacherous Giovanni! But stand we talking?
Car. Here's a storm soon raised.
Coz. As thou art our subject, Charomonte,
And, myrrha like, I'll grow up to a tree,
Dropping perpetual tears of sorrow, which,
Hardened by the rough wind, and turned to
amber,
Unfortunate virgins like myself shall wear,
Before I'll make petition to your greatness
And that life, you tendered once, much endan-But with such reverence, my hands held up thus,
As I would do to Heaven, You princes are
As gods on earth to us, and to be sued to
With such humility, as his deputies
May challenge from their vassals.
Coz. Here's that form
Of language I expected; pray you, speak:
What is your suit?
Lyd. That you would look upon me
As an humble thing, that millions of degrees
Is placed beneath you. For what am I, dread
Or what can fall in the whole course of my life, That may be worth your care, much less your trouble?
As the lowly shrub is to the lofty cedar,
Or a mole-hill to Olympus, if compared,
I am to you, sir. Or, suppose the prince,
(Which cannot find belief in me) forgetting
The greatness of his birth and hopes, hath
thrown
An eye of favour on me, in me punish
(That am the cause) the rashness of his youth.
Shall the queen of the inhabitants of the air,
The eagle, that bears thunder on her wings,
In her angry mood, destroy her hopeful young,
For suffering a wren to perch too near them?
Such is our disproportion.
Coz. With what fervour
She pleads against herself!
Lyd. For me, poor maid,
I know the prince to be so far above me,
That my wishes cannot reach him.
So much his creature, to fix him in
Your wonted grace and favour, I'll abjure
His sight for ever, and betake myself
To a religious life (where in my prayers
I may remember him) and ne'er see man more,
But my ghostly father. Will you trust me, sir?
In truth I'll keep my word; or, if this fail,
A little more of fear what may befall him,
Will stop my breath for ever!
Co. Had you thus argued
As you were yourself, and brought as advocates
Your health and beauty, to make way for you,
No crime of his could put on such a shape
But I should look with the eves of mercy on it.
What would I give to see this diamond
In her perfect lustre, as she was before
The clouds of sickness dimmed it! Yet, take comfort,
And, as you would obtain remission for
His treachery to me, cheer your drooping spirits,
And call the blood again into your cheeks,
And then plead for him; and in such a habit
As in your highest hopes you would put on,
If we were to receive you for our bride.
Lydia. I'll do my best, sir.
Coz. And that best will be
A crown of all felicity to me.
San. 'Tis proved in me, the curse of human frailty
(Adding to our afflictions) makes us know What's good; and yet our violent passions force
To follow what is ill. Reason assured me
It was not safe to shave a lion's skin;
And that to trifle with a sovereign, was
To play with lightning: Yet imperious beauty,
Treading upon the neck of understanding,
Compelled me to put off my natural shape
Of loyal duty, to disguise myself
In the adulterate and cobweb masque
Of disobedient treachery. Where is now
My borrowed greatness? or the promised lives
Of following courtiers echoing my will?
In a moment vanished. Power, that stands not on
Its proper base, which is peculiar only
To absolute princes, falls or rises with
Their frown or favour. The great duke, my
(Who almost changed me to his other self)
No sooner takes his beams of comfort from me,
But I, as one unknown, or unregarded,
Unpitied suffer! Who makes intercession
To his mercy for me now? Who does remember
The service I have done him? Not a man!
And such as spake no language, but my lord,
The favourite of Tuscany's grand duke,
[Looks backwards. Deride my madness, Ha! what noise of horses?
A goodly troop! This back-part of my prison
Allows me liberty to see and know them.
Contarino! Yes, 'tis he; and Lodovico :
And the duchess Fiorinda, Urbin's heir,
A princess I have slighted; yet I wear
Her favours. And, to teach me what I am,
She whom I scorned can only mediate for me.
This way she makes, yet speak to her I dare not;
And how to make a suit to her, is a task
Of as much difficulty-Yes, thou blessed pledge
[Takes off the ring, and writes on a pane
of glass.]
Of her affection, aid me. This supplies
The want of pen and ink, and this of paper.
It must be so; and I in my petition
Concise and pithy.
Enter CONTARINO, leading in FIORINDA, ALPHONSO, LODOVICO, HIERONIMO, CALAMINTA.
Fio. 'Tis a goodly pile, this.
Hier. But bettered by the owner.
Alph. But most rich
In the great states it covers.
Fio. The duke's pleasure
Commands us hither.
Con. Which was laid on us
To attend you to it,
Lod. Signior Charomonte,
To see your excellence his guest, will think
Himself most happy.
Fio. Tie my shoe. What's that?
[The pane thrown down. A pane thrown from the window, no wind stirring? Cula. And at your feet too fallen; there's something writ on it.
Con. Some courtier, belike, would have it | Once more into your favour.
You are ignorant in the nature of his fault, Which, when you understand, (as we'll instruct you)
Your pity will appear a charity,
(It being conferred on an unthankful man,)
To be repented. He's a traitor, madam,
To you, to us, to gratitude; and in that
All crimes are comprehended.
Fio. If his offence
Aimed at me only, whatsoe'er it is,
Tis freely pardoned.
Coz. This compassion in you
Must make the colour of his guilt more ugly.
The honours we have hourly heaped upon him,
The titles, the rewards, to the envy of
The old nobility, as the common people,
We now forbear to touch at, and will only
Insist on his gross wrongs to you. You were
pleased,
Forgetting both yourself and proper greatness,
To favour him, nay, to court him to embrace
A happiness, which, on his knees, with joy
He should have sued for. Who repined not at
The grace you did him! Yet, in recompense
Of your large bounties, the disloyal wretch
Makes you a stale; and, that he might be by
Move us again, if your reason will allow it,
His treachery known. And then, if you continue
An advocate for him, we, perhaps, because
We would deny you nothing, may awake
Our sleeping mercy. Carolo!
[They whisper.
Fio. To endure a rival, that were equal to me,
Cannot but speak my poverty of spirit;
But an inferior, more Yet true love must not
Know or degrees, or distances. Lydia may be
As far above me in her form, as she
Is in her birth beneath me; and what I
In Sanazarro liked, he loves in her.
But if I free him now, the benefit
Being done so timely, and confirming too
My strength and power, my soul's best faculties
being
Bent wholly to preserve him, must supply me
With all I am defective in, and bind him
My creature ever. It must needs be so,
Nor will I give it o'er thus.
Coz. Does our nephew
Bear his restraint so constantly as you
Deliver it to us?
Car. In my judgment, sir,
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