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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