SANGUINO

TO Is true Molosso, fortune hath prepared A full revenge for thee, without thy hazar'd, And ere the rising Sun shall yet decline Imperial thy proud Lord shall fallen As low as hell; one unexpected blow Shall recompense those many he gave thee; When imitating foreign cruelty, He bound thee fast, and made thy feet and Anvil. Then know, the plot is more securely laid, Than my weak means (although my will be strong) Could ever reach, without my certain death; And by strange chance I did discover it, Without the Actors knowledge; thou hast herd Of the old deadly feud between our Lords, Which wound although it were in show healed up, Is broken out afresh; it was not well searched; For the last night, at setting of the Sun, A household business called me to the Garden, ere in the thicket, near the Arbour, lying my self, I quickly fell asleep. Into which Arbour in the mean time came My Patron, with a Brave accompanied, A Fellow expert in that Mystery: At their first entrance to the place I waked, But durst not stir, for had I, death had seized me; There was I privy to their whole discourse, Which was in brief but this, that for the sum Of fifteen hundred crowns, thy Patrons life Is sold, and must ere noon be snatched away. He'll be deceived, the rareness of the plot Did please beyond the deer and longed for Act; Here's the design, this being a solemn day Annually observed by the State, In memory of a public benefit Received by the private care of one Of thy Lords Ancestors, will draw all sorts Of People to the Temple, where the Clothed Like a filly Peasant, is resolved To watch Imperial, and keep near him, And when the usual Ceremonies are done, In the confused Crowd his cunning hand Shall guide a poisoned dagger to his heart, And in and instant, letting fallen his cloak, Which shall belarge to hide his rustic habit, He, with the rest, will stand about the body And wring his hands at horror of the fact, And thus the Brave shall thy partly bravely act, What? silent? not affected with a joy Should ravish thee? and swell thy veins with pleasure, Like to the Ostrich in the act of lust? Hadst thou, as I beheld the Actors looks When he declared his resolution, To my attentive Patron, thou wouldst rest, Assured of the event, and swear he needed No other weapon to destroy a man; His eyes would have outstar'd a Basilisk, They were two Comets that are surely fatal. Our Magnificos think us phlegmatic rascals Created but for blows, and scorn, so far In love with servitude as scarce to wish Revenge or freedom's. See where Molosso comes, sir. What plot should this be now? I long to know, Molosso doubts some accident may happen Upon his Master's death, and wisely seeks To gain a friend, under whose safe protection He may be sheltered from a sudden storm; I have and equal share in the success Of his designs; his preservation's mine, And therefore needs not be inquisitive, the assured fate of his obdurate Lord May make that good he promises; the daughter, If once the Father were removed perhaps Would entertain new thoughts, me thinks she should Be sensible of Doria's neglects: Who can condemn this young men hight desire? Were I as free, as noble as himself, I should most willingly become her slave, And I do hate my forced condition For no one ill so much, as that it brings Despair of such transcendent happiness I See thou hast a golden plot in hand, Thou must impart. I would I might share with Francisco too What? to disclose it? And unto him? is this your dumb men virtue? Canst thou so soon forget thine own vile wrongs? Hath the dull air of Europe chilled thy blood? For thy sole cause I hardly could contain My present joy in the discovery, Though death stood gaping for me while I herd it, And wouldst thou cowardly betray thy fortune? Now are thy thoughts full plumed, it pleases me To see thee mount, not flag in thy revenge: I must confess, I love a present mischief, But, if it may conduce to thy brave ends, To make a feigned retreat, and then return With greater violence; I must consent, And when th'art ready for thy great assault, But, this, and I shall join; in the mean time Let nothing be discovered to my Patron; If that be, death's the best I can expect. Can there be hope of such a happiness? I shall embraced with all the circumstance Of danger, that bold treason undergoes, Or what accompanies forbidden love In the most jealous climes: I should desire In the fruition of such bliss t'expire. Of Nectar, sweeter far than that of Jove. Command, and I obey. I'm ready.