THIERRY

You are here in a sanctuary; and that viper (Who since he hath forgotten to be a son, I much disdain to think of as a brother) Had better in despite of all the gods, To have razed their Temples; and spurned down their altars, Then in his impious abuse of you, To have called on my joust anger. That partly of his As it deserves shall burn no more, if or The tears of Orphans, widows, or all such As dare acknowledge him to be their Lord, Joined to your wrongs, with his heart blood have pour To put it out: and you, and these your servants, Who in our favours shall find cause to know In that they left not you, how deer we hold them; Shall give Theodoret to understand, His ignorance of the priceless Jewel, which He did possess in you, mother in you, Of which I am more proud to be the doner, Then if the absolute rule of all the world Were offered to this hand; once more you are welcome, Which with all ceremony endue to greatness I would make known, but that our joust revenge Admits not of delay; your hand Lord General. How, my subjects? What do you make of me? O heaven! my subjects! How base should I esteem the name of Prince, If that poor dust, were any thing before The whirlwind of my absolute command? Let them be happy, and rest so contented: They pay the tribute of their hearts and knees, To such a Prince that not alone has power, To keep his own but to increase it; that Although he hath a body may add to The famed night labour of strong Hercules: Yet is the master of a continence That so can temper it, that I forebear Their daughters, and their wives, whose hands though strong, As yet have never drawn by unjust mean Their proper wealth into my treasury. But I grow glorious, and let them beware That in their least repining at my pleasures, They change not a mild Prince, (for if provoked I dare and will be so) into a Tyrant. You have viewed them then, what's your opinion of em? In this dull time of peace, we have prepared em Apt for the war. Would? Well, that care is yours; And see that you effect it. I have stood Silent thus long, and am yet unresolved Whither to entertain thee on my sword, As fits a parricide of a mother's honour; Or whither being a Prince, I yet stand bound (Though thou art here condemnde) to give thee hearing Before I execute. What foolish hope, (Nay pray you forbear) or desperate madness rather, (Unless thou comest assure, I stand in debt As far to all impiety as thy self) Has made thee bring thy neck unto the axe? Since looking only here, it cannot but Draw fresh blood from thy searde up, conscience, To make thee sensible of that horror, which They ever bear about them, that Like Nero, Like said I? thou are worse: since thou darest strive In her defame to murder thine alive. I do begin To feel and alteration in my nature, And in his full sailde confidence, a shower Of gentle rain, that falling on the fire Of my hight rage hath quenched it, would! I would Once more speak roughly to him, and I will; Yet there is something whispers to me, that I have said too much. How is my heart divided Between the duty of a son, and love Endue to a brother! yet I am swayed here, And must ask of you, how 'tis possible You can affect me that have learned to hate, Where you should pay all love? Fie, no more of that. See, she shows her self And easy mother, which her tears confirm. Embrace: why this is well, May never more but love in you, and duty On your partly rise between you. How, from whence? What speak they? Reads: How all things meet to make me this day happy? See mother, brother, to your reconcilement Another blessing almost equal to it, Is coming towards me; my contracted wise, Ordella daughter of wise Dataricke The King of Aragon is on our confines; Then to arrive at such a time, when you Are happily here to honour with your presence Our long deferde, but much wished nuptial, Falls out above expression; heaven be pleased That I may use these blessing powrde on me With moderation. Two days journey sayest thou, We will set forth to meet her, in the mean time See all things be prepárde to entertain her: Nay let me haud your companies, there's a Forest In the midway shall yield us hunting sport, To ease our travail, ilenot have a brow But shall we are mirth upon it, therefore clear them, We'cle wash away all sorrow in glad feasts, And the war we mean to men, we'ele make on beasts. Whats that, may not I know too? No more, I know him, I now repent my error, take your time And try him home, ever thus far reserved, You tie your anger up. Bring me his sword fair taken, without For that will best declare him. And my best horse is thine. Not to day, the weather Is grown too warm, beside, the dogs are spent, We'ele take a cooler morning, let's to horse, And hollow in the troop. Mother, You hear this and rejoice in such a blessing That pays to you so large a share of duty, But fie no more, for as you hold a place Nearer my heart then she, you must fit nearest To all those graces, that are in the power Of Majesty to bestow. We are dull, No object to provoke mirth. Touching Protaldye. Pray you speak, How won you him to partly from't? This is rare. Nay study not and answer, confess freely. This change is excellent. Fit all; One health, and so to bed, for I too long Defer my choifest delicates. Let it come freely. You have nam A blessing that I most desired, I pledge you, Give me a larger cup, that is too little Unto so great a God. So, it's gone round, lights. Good rest to all. Sure I have drunk the blood of Elephants, The tears of mandrake and the marble Due, Mixed in my draught, have quenched my natural heat, And left no spark of fire but in mine eyes, With which I may behold my Misery's: You wretched flames which play upon my sighed, Turn inward, make me all one piece, though earth; My tears shall overwhelm you else too. Are you yet frozen veins, feel you a breath, Whose temperate heat would make the North star reel, Her icy pillars thawed, and do you not melt? Draw nearer, yet nearer, That from thy barren kiss thou mayest confess I have not heat enough to make a blush. How should he speak the language of a husband, Who wants the tongue and organs of his voice? Bind not his cares up with so dull a charm, Who hath no other sense left open; why should thy words Find more restraint then thy free speaking actions, Thy close embraces and thy midnight sighs, The silent orators to slow desire? O thou hast drunk the juice of hemlock too, Or did upbraided nature make this pair To show she had not quite forgotten her first Justly praised workmanship, the first chased couple Before the want of joy, taught guilty sighed A way through shame and sorrow to delight: Say, may we mix as in their innocence When turtles kissed, to confirm happiness, Not to beget it? Should I believe thee, yet thy pulse beats woman; And says the name of wife did promise thee The blessed reward of duty to thy mother, Who gave so often witness of her joy, When she did boast thy likeness to her husband. Confine thy self to silence, lest thou take That partly of reason from me is only left To give persuasion to me, I am a man: Or say thou hast never seen the rivers haste With gladsome speed to meet the amorous sea. Nor viewde the kids taught by their lustful sire's, Pursue each other through the wanton lawns, And liked the sport. Nor do you know the reason why the dove, One of the pair your hands wont hourly feed, So often clipped and kissed her happy mate. Or shed a tear that's warm. Or when you hear the birds call for their mates, Ask if it be St. Valentine, their coopling day. O who would know a wife, that might have such a friend? Posterity henceforth loose the name of blessing, And leave the earth inhabited to people heaven. It's a desire but borrowde from me, my happiness Shall be the perjod of all good men's wishes, Which friends, nay dying father's shall be queath, And in my one give all: is there a duty Belongs to any power of mine, or love To any virtue I have right to? here, place it here, Ordellas name shall only bear command, Rule, title, sovereignty. Oh mother, she has doubled every good The travail of your blood made possible To my glad being. Brother, friends, if honour unto shame, If wealth to want in large the present sense, My joys are unbounded, instead of question Let it be envy, not bring a present To the high offering of our mirth, banquets, and masks; Keep waking our delights, mocking nights malice, Whose dark brow would fright pleasure from us, Our court be but one stage of Revels, and each eye The scene where our content moves. Music, why art thou so slow voycte? it stays thy presence My Ordella, this chamber is a sphere Too narrow for thy al-mouing virtue. Make way, free way I say; Who must alone, her sexes want supply, Had needs to have a room both large and high. No mother I am no man, were I a man, How could I be thus happy? That being no man, I am married to no woman; The best of men in full ability, Can only hope to satisfy a wife, And for that hope ridiculous, I in my want And such defective poverty, that to her bed From my first cradle brought no strength but thought, Have met a temperance beyond hers that rocked me, Necessity being her bar; where this Is so much senseless of my deprived fire, She knows it not a lose by her desire. Beyond your sexes faith, The unripe virgins of our age to hear't Will dream themselves to women, and convert The example to a miracle. The name of father to what I possess Is shame and care. You teach a deaf man language. You have timely wakende me, nor shall I sleep Without the satisfaction of his art. What villain dares this outrage? Forbear these civil jars, fie Protaldye, So open in your projects, avoid our presence sirrah. Weel hear no more on't, music drown all sadness; soft Command the Revellers in, at what a rate I do purchase music My mother's absence, to give my spleen full liberty. You will add unto her rage. You are too much libertine. Forbear I say. How near you, why do you look so pale brother? Treason, treason. Make the gates sure, search into every angle And corner of the court; o my shame! mother, Your son is slain, Theodoret, noble Theodoret, Here in my arms, too weak a sanctuary against treachery and murder, say is the traitor taken. Set present fire unto the place, that all unseen May perish in this mischief who moves slow to't, Shall add unto the flame. Withdraw but for your ilghts. Speak, where's the engine to this horrid act? Whither did nature start, when you conceiude A birth so unlike woman? say, what partly Did not consent to make a son of him, Reserved it self within you to his ruin. Was not Theodoret my brother, or is thy tongue Confederate with thy heart, to speak and do Only things monstrous? Come, do not weep, I must, nay, do believe you, And in my father's satisfaction count it Merit, not wrong, or lose: See, I will quench it, and confess that you Have suffered double travail for me. Rather reward the author, who gave cause Of knowing such a secret, my oath and duty Shall be assurance on't. Protaldye? he had a gardners fate i'll swear Fell by thy hand, Sir, we do owe unto you for this service. Reserve them for the body; since he had the fate To live and die a Prince, he shall not loose The title in his funeral. How well this loans suits the art I seek, Discoueting secret and succeeding fate, Knowledge that puts all lower happiness on, With a remiss and careless hand, Fair peace unto your meditations father. Drawn by your much famed skill, I come to know Whither the man who owes this character, Shall ere have issue. He is nobly born. The question is ofheires, not lands. Begotten of his body, why lookest thou pale? Thou canst not suffer in his want. Thou must, I am the man my self, Thy sovereign, who must owe unto thy wisdom In the concealing of my barren shame. Speak it again. By whom? when? how? Can there be any way unsmooth, has end So fair and good? Sorrow must loose a name, where mine finds life, If not in thee, at least ease pain with speed, Which must know no cure else. Callest thou this sadness, can I beget a son Deserving less then to gine recompense Unto so poor a lose? what ear thou art, Rest peaceable blessed creature, born to be Mother of Princes, whose graven shall be more fruitful Then others marriage bends: me thinks his art Should give her form and happy figure to me, I long to see my happiness; he is gone, As I remember he nam my brother's daughter, Were it my mother, it were a gainful death Could give Ordellas virtue living breath. How can he sleep, Whose happiness is laid up in and hour. He knows comes stealing towards him, oh Martell! I'st possible the longing bride, whose wishes Outruns her fears, can on that day she is married Consume in slumbers, or his arms rust in ease, That hears the charge, and sees the honoured purchase Ready to gild his valour? Mine is more A power above these passion; this day France, France that in want of issue withers with us; And Like and aged river runs his head Into forgotten ways, again I ransom, And his fair course turn right: this day, Thierry, The son of France, whose manly powers Like prisoners Have been tied up, and fettered, by one death Give life to thousand ages; this day beauty The envy of the world, pleasure the glory, Content above the world, desire beyoud it Are made mine own and useful. But ten times happier That lives to do the greater; oh Martell, The gods have hard me now, and those that scorned me Mother's of many children, and biest father's That see their issues Like the stars unnumbered, Their comfort more then them, shall in my praises Now teach their infants songs; and tell their ages From such a son of mine, or such a queen, That chased Ordella brings me blessed marriage, The chain that links two holy loves together, And in thee marriage, more then blessed Ordella, That comes so never the sacrament it self, The Priests doubt whither purer. Stand and mark then, The first woman. This hand Martell, For who less dare presume to give the gods And incense of this offering? The plagues of men light on um, They cross my Hope's Like hares, who's that? Stand and behold her then. Move not while I prepare her: may her peace Like his whose innocence the gods are pleased with, And offering at their altars, gives his soul Far purer then those fires; pull heaven upon her, You holy powers, no humane spot dwell in her, No love of any thing but you and goodness, Tie her to earth, fear be a stranger to her, And all weak bloods affections, but thy hope Let her bequeathe to women: hear me heaven, Give her a spirrit masculine, and noble, Fit for your selves to ask, and me to offer. Oh let her meet my blow, dote on her death; And as a wanton yine bows to the pruner, That by his cutting off more may increase, So let her fallen to raise me fruit; hail woman, The happiest, and the best (if thy dull will Do not abuse thy fortune) France ere found yet. Tell me this then, Was there ere woman yet, or may be found, That for fair fame, unspotted memory, For virtues sake, and only for it self sake Has, or dare make a story? Say, the kingdom May from a woman's will receive a blessing, The king and kingdom, not a private safety. A general blessing Lady. Full of honour; And such examples as the former ages Were but dim shadows of, and empty figures: You may, and which is more, you must. As ever time discovered. But hark ye, What may that woman merit, makes this blessing? It's terrible. It's full of fearful shadows. Suppose it death. And endless parting With all we can call ours, with all our sweetness, With youth, strength, pleasure, people, time, nay reason: For in the silent graven, no conversation, No joyful tread of friends, no voice of lovers, No careful father's counsel, nothing's hard, Nor nothing is, but all oblivion, Dust, and and endless darkness; and dare you woman Desire this place? Martell, a wonder, Here is a woman that dares die, yet tell me, Are you a wife? Dare you venture, For a poor barren praise you never shall hear, To partly with these sweet Hope's? Then there is nothing wanting but my knowledge; And what I must do Lady. Thus much before I strike then, for I must kill you, The gods have willed it so; they're made the blessing Must make France young again, and me a man, Keep up your strength still nobly. And meet death Like a measure: Thou shalt be sainted woman, and thy tomb Cut out in Crystal, pure and good as thou art; And on it shall be graven every age, Succeeding peers of France that rise by thy fallen, Tell thou liest there Like old and fruitful nature. Darest thou behold thy happiness? Would? Pulls off her vaise, lets fallen his sword. No, I dare not, There is and Angel keeps that paradise, A fiery angel friend; oh virtue, virtue, Ever and endless virtue. First let the earth be barren, And man no more remembered; rise Ordella, The nearest to thy maker, and the purest That ever dull flesh showed us, ----- oh my heartstrings. We'll be alone. Is cheating grown so common among men, And thrives so well here, that the gods endeavour To practice it above! Would! or are they only careful to revenge, Not to reward? or when for your offences We study satisfaction, must the cure Be worse then the disease? To loose ability to perform those duties For which I entertainde the name of husband, Askde more then common sorrow; but t'impose For the redress of that defect, a torture In marking her to death, for whom alone I felt that weakness as a want, requires More then the making the head bald? or falling Thus flat upon the earth, or cursing that way, Or praying this, o such a scene of grief, And so set down, (the world the stage to act on) May challenge a Tragedian better practised Then I am to express it; for my cause Of passion is so strong, and my performance So weak, that though the partly be good, I fear Th'ill acting of it, will defraud it of The poor reward it may deserve, men's pity. I'st you, look down on me; And if that you are capable to receive it, Let that return to you, that have brought forth One markde out only for it: what are these? Come they upon your privilege, to tread on The tomb of my afflictions? How dare you then omit the ceremony Endue to the funeral of all my Hope's, Or come unto the marriage of my sorrows, But in such colours as may sort with them? Yours? dare you again Though armed with the authority of a mother, Attempt the danger, that will fallen on you If such another sillable awake it? Go, and with yours be safe, I have such cause Of grief, nay more, to love it, that I will not Have such as these be sharers in it. I, thou art welcome, and upon my soul Thou art and honest man; do you see, he has tears To lend to him whom prodigal expense Of sorrow has made banker out of such treasure, Nay thou dost well. Stay, dares any Presume to shed a tear before me? or Ascribe that worth unto themselves to merit To do so for her? I have done, now on. I hear this, and yet live, Heart art thou thunder proof, will nothing break thee? She's dead, and what her entertainment may be In th'other world without me is uncertain, And dare I stay here unresolved? Unhand me, am I fallen So low, that I have lost the pour to be Disposer of my own life? O thou dost throw charms upon me, against which I cannot stop my ears; bear witness heaven That not desire of life, nor love of pleasures Nor any future comforts, but to give Peace to her blessed spirit in satisfying Her last demand, makes me defer our meeting, Which in my choice, and sudden choice shall be To all apparent. Go, thou only good man, to whom for her self Goodness is deer, and prepare to inter it In her that was; oh my heart! my Ordella, A monument worthy to be the casket Of such a jewel. Pray you no more, There is no argument you can use to cross it, But does increase in me such a suspicion I would not cherish, ---who's that? With what assurance dare you hope for that Which is denied to me? or how can I Stand bound to be joust, unto such as are Beneath me, that find none from those that are Above me? Forbear: with what variety Of torments do I meet? o thou hast opened A book in which writ down in bloody letters, My conscience finds that I am worthy of More then I undergo, but i'll begin For my Ordellas sake, and for thine own, To make less heavens great anger: thou hast lost A father, I to thee am so; the hope Of a good husband, in me have one; nor Be fearful I am still no man, already That weakness is gone from me, The pour To take away that lowness is in me. You denied it Upon your oath, nor will I now believe you, Your Protean turnings cannot change my purpose. Mine eyes when she is nam Cannot forget their tribute, and your g Is not unuseful now. This night i'll keep it, Tomorrow I will send it you, and full of my affliction. What's that? Tell me, Can ever these eyes more shut up in slumbers, Assure my soul there in And rest for humane labors? do not you And all the world as I do, out stare time, And live Like funeral lamps never extinguished? Is there a graven, and do not flatter me, Nor fear to tell me truth, and in that graven Is there a hope I shall sleep, can I die, Are not my Misery's immortal? oh The happiness of him that drinks his water After his weary day, and sleeps for ever, Why do you crucify me thus with faces, And gaping strangely upon one another, When shall I rest? Am I not patient? have I not endured More then a maingy dog among your dosses? Am I not now your patient? ye can make Unwholesome fools sleep for a guarded footcloth; Whores for a hight sin offering; yet I must crave That feed you, and protect you, and proclaim you, Because my pour is far above your searching, Are my diseases so? can you cure none But those of equal ignorance, dare you kill me? Well, I will die In spite of all your potlons; one of you sleep, Lie down and sleep here, that I may behold What blessed rest it is my eyes are robbed of: See, he can sleep, sleep any where, sleep now, When he that wakes for him can never slumber, I'st not a dainty ease? Oh never I, never, the eyes of heaven See but their certain motions, and then sleep, The rages of the Ocean have their slumbers, And quiet silver calms; each violence Crowns in his end a peace, but my fixed fires Shall never, never set, who's that? Physicians, half my state to sleep and hour now; Is it so mother? But mother, For yet I love that reverence, and to death Dare not forget you have been so; was this, This endless misery, this cureless malice, This snatching from me all my youth together, All that you made me for, and happy mother's Crowned with eternal time are proud to finish, Done by your will? Brun. It was, and by that will. Oh mother, do not loose your It's all the soul of woman, all the sweetness; Forget not I beseech you what are children, Nor how you are groaned for um, to what love They are born inheritors, with what care kept, And as they rise to ripeness still remember How they imp our your age; and when time calls you, That as and Autumn flower you fallen, forget not How round about your hearse they hang Like pennons. Heaven forgive you. Must I still see these Misery's, no night To hide me from their horrors, that Protaldye See justice fallen upon. Do her no wrong. What's that appears so sweetly? there's that face. That angels face. Martell, I cannot last long, see the soul, I see it perfectly of my Ordella, The heavenly figure of her sweetness there, Forgive me gods, it comes, divinest substance, Kneel, kneel, kneel every one, Saint of thy sex, If it be for my cruelty thou comest, Do you see her hoe? Down, down again, to be revenged for blood, Sweet spirit I am ready, she smiles on me, Oh blessed sign of peace. Stay, she is warm. Are you the same Ordella still? Kiss me again, It's she, I know her now Martell; fit down sweet, Oh blessed and happiest woman, a dead slumber Begins to creep upon me, oh my jewel! My joys are too much for me. Love I must die, I faint, close up my glasses. One dying kiss. Thou perfect woman, Martell, the kingdom's yours, take Memberge to you, And keep my live alive; nay weep not Lady, Take me, I go. My horse I am sure, has found it, for her sides are Blooded from flank to shoulder, where the troop? What is't? Nay Martell, You must not fallen off. Would, would, forbear. And you could dovelike to a single object Bind your lose spirits to one, nay such a one Whom only eyes and ears must flatter good, Your surer sense made useless, my self, nay As in my all of good already known. What of my brother? A learned Astronomer, great Magician, Who lives hard-by retired. Persuasion is a partner in the crime, I will renounce my claim unto a mother, If you make offer on't. I prithee let me be so, What are those? Would he were gelded: No. Then you can suffer. And have children,--- She sighs, and weeps. Thou makest me smile In the height of my calamities, as if There could be the addition of and Atom To the giant body of my Misery's. But try, for I will hear thee; all fit down, it's death To any that shall dare to interrupt him Inlooke, gesture, or word. Hear you that sirs? She comes to crown my soul: away, get sacrifice While I with holy honours. In everlasting life I know it, friend, Oh happy, happy soul. Can spirits weep too? I cannot but Believe you Madam, thou art one degree Grown nearer to my heart, and I am proud To have in thee so glorious a plant Transported hither; in thy conduct, we Go on assure of conquest, our remove Shall be with the next sun. It is your place, and though in all things else You may and ever shall command me, yet In this isle be obeyde. This is above belief. Well as you please. For bear. Possible: