CHARINTHA

Mock not my tears, they are holy. Greatness transmitted Has lesser of Divinity; your honours Are virtues purchase, and your own deservings. Valenzo thou returnest in glorious triumph, Rich, from the conquest of a noble foe, And yet not laden with the gaudy spoil So much, as with the valour of the enemy: As if th'ad'st envied them their virtue only, And soughtest to rob they of it; all for me:— alas! what are these, but what the owner makes them? Of themselves nothing, only as we use them, Are good or bade, a blessing or a curse: What means Valenzo? Far, far be such a thought! Come, to your business. Sure the man's mad. Some such thing. Of cast suits. Piero. Then I'm undone! Piero! didst not promise me to stand The utmost of's temptations? didst thou boast Thy virtuous strength, and fallest at the first onset? If hitherto It hath been so, hereafter will be all Bitterness, thou hast betrayed thy friend to death; The thought of which will sour all thy content, Make thy best pleasures relish worse then gall. Thou wilt grow big in sin too! thou must barter Thy virtue for preferment; which being gone, At best thou'lt be but painted ruins, A glorious misery; thou must owe life To him, that will infect and kill thy soul. Yet he may live, and still be virtuous. Yet he's thy friend. Will be a glory to thee after death That thou Wertenberg friendships martyr, a title Will fit upon thy tomb, richer than all Thy Heraldry; more lasting than thy marble. Piero, thou goest To heaven, to be the envy of the Saints; For when thou comest where those blessed troops reside, No man shall ere direct a vow, or prayer, But unto thee! — Valenzo take thy friend, (Val: Enters) Take him unto thy bosom, he has so much Of heaven in him, I fear he can scarce die. Raise not my auger higher with your scorn;— Or if't be ignorance of my sufferings, It but betrays your want of reason, and How far you're lost to man, by your found dotage. Good God! I've suffered so long, till patience Grew my greatest crime.— Whence? or from whom? Ask this good man how often he has mourned Over the ruins of my fame? how often His ears have met with the report of my Disgrace? how I was noised a strumpet? when Each talking thing at Court, might freely act A rape upon my virtue, till I was left All a whole stain, black as the front of perjured Sinners? while you, (as if I'de been a trifle Cast from your blood, and kindred, or some dark thing, Whose actions were so sowly bade. That report bettered they in the expression:) Could fit as silent as the night; as calm As seas, when the winds sleep; yet at last be just; And say, how have I appeared to you, or him, That calumny has thus been privileged, To violate my honour? Yet he that would confirm this with his sword, Must meet, with prisons, wracks, and tortures, As a reward of so much virtue! Would thou hadst, Or somewhat that carries less resemblance Of man: O thou art bravely wicked. In the bedchamber! this way! If I have used Any immodest braveries, appeared In wanton gaudiness, a hight temptation To'th youthful flowings of the blood; If I have entertained one looser thought But such as Chastity's cold votaries, When they breath out a soul into her bosom, Might safely nourish; if I've misemployed One hour, in which with strict endeavour, I Might have gained somewhat to my stock of virtue, (The only dower I'de meet your love withal,) May I be guilty of that sin, my honour, My virgin honour's blasted with, and die A loathed Apostate. No (my Valenzo, ) virtue's ravished hence, Charintha's strumpeted, her name is ranked I'th vulgar breath, amongst common prostitutes; Pardon, (my love) shall't never wed thy shame, Thy jealousy. Take in this kiss mine in exchange again. A blessed security; but your errand, your errand, Sir. What? Stop his mouth, he breathes infection. False to thy friend, and virtue! that only camest To mock calamity, and amid our wrongs Remain our greatest in jury. Miracle of friendship. Or in thy ruin I Am lost. Stint this pious strife, I have been too much woman, and betrayed My name to infamy, in this tame passion: Possess me a just anger, a spirit great And noble as my birth; that I may shake, And rouse this sleepy Prince, from his dull lethargy; Who's wholly lost, in the bewitching flatteries Of that bade man;— alas this is a danger Too potent for your stars to free you from; Henceforth I'll be your destinies: for since This calm brings nothing but a certain fallen, A storm shall either save, or ruin all. Virtue! Never fear't Sir. I believe y'had needs on't. So wicked! No Sir; 'twas your black deeds Not well. A Tyrant Of big, and grorious impietic's, A regal monster, the true head of that Beast you rule, the multitude: more cruel Than enraged lyons, or robbed bears; who both Will spare the innocent, and humble. My wrongs indeed would make me so. And ere he die, must suffer in's honour, Be proclaimed traitor to the state: Too weak pretence, for your ingratitude To so large merit; Naples call's him Her chief preserver; he brought home victory, By his own arm achieved, when the proud foe, Threatened your Kingdom with a fatal downfall. He, to whose arm you owe your life, your crown, To whom in war, you'd sooner fly for help Then to the Altar; now in peace must have His temples robbed; his garlands from his brow Transplanted. to adorn this useless statua. You are noble. Bless me! whence all these tragedies. Our Princely cousin, welcome to Court; thou hast Been too long absent, (I must chide thee for't,) And envied us the boast of virtue.