VALENZO

TO Here, take your order, and dispatch; Your known faiths will not let me doubt observance Of the least circumstance. Enjoy the freedom of your speech; yet know That they are ignorant of these in junctions, And for a testimony of their loves Unto your fair deservings, are all ready To meet their Countries patriots, (so they term you) After their ancient custom, with procession; Nay, you may stay at home too: Be more composed and hear me, though you hate Treason as ill as cowardice, yet I must Tell you, you're the men have brought The enemy home to Naples, I mean the army For what less can I term such a vast body, Consisting of such disproportioned members; Fleshed with the spoils of fertile Sicily, Enriched with what a happy soil can yield To and insulting conqueror; fed too With glorious Hope's of ease, and plenty? You know how hard a task you underwent To govern them abroad, when tamed by want, Thirst, hunger, heat, and cold; judge then what sway Authority can bear, when by this change They are grown mad, and mutinous; who shall Compose their private jars, and quarrels, when Their full cups add fury to their pride? Beside, you know Sicily is now in Naples; The Prince a captive to his Prisoner: How far his easy nature may be wrought upon Is yet uncertain, his years though they have outdone History, are not yet grown up to the ripeness of experience For my severity; (I'de gladly have You call it by another name;) it is My duty, (if not yours) I take it, to be vigilant. Gongales, and Petrucchio's regiment I've left aboard to guard the fleet, your's must Make safe the Castle, and the land forts; you Cannot endear me more than by your circumspection; The City will be all in triumphat These nuptials, betwixt our divided houses; Think these Sicilian's, though you have won And forced them to groan beneath your sword, may yet At heart be traitors; if not, opportunity May make them so; at such a time as this Surprise is easy; history hath such examples, Unfortunate ones; and you'de be loath to add Unto the number. I shall report you noble. Good Captain be less wild, and use me, To the lose of honour. Didst meet with him?—he's here already. How have I lost my friend, And see Piero, for being so thou wouldst Nor mock, nor flatter me! You mean these titles, vain and empty names; Let me enjoy thee still, I'll disinvest My self of all additions, can but swell Our pride, not virtue up; my Ancestors Have left me rich enough in title to Your friendship, and before I forfeit that! — That we could mingle souls. — No more; my reason yields unto my passion. And it's a joy requires me meet it with My best temper; I would not surfeit Nor swallow it too greedily; some light mixture Of grief would give a relish to't; tell me, come— What face wears the Court? how looks it On our new dignities? Envy (Like the Sun) Darts her beams hottest on the rising banks: Ʋ rsini the grand favourite, is at Court, And has his Princes bosom? There was a noble house soon lost. One that with his father's virtues Inherited his unhappy fate, young he was, And valiant; received and known so. I've maintained Fair correspondency with him at distance, But Like not his embracements. It's strange, A Prince so wise and vertuours should not descry His falsehood through his vifour; or at least Lend ear to the loud cries of wronged Innocents. And wonder at the sudden change: I've seen her, maugre all those sudden fears, Her tender age, and womanhood could urge; Stand in the head of troops, that we even feared They had engaged some Goddess in their quarrel; Bear up against the enemy, when her men Lay scattered in the plains, Like the ripe ears The wealthy harvest yields into the Grange. There's somewhat in't, her passion should lie hid So long, and now break out so violently. She rather seemed too thrifty, than too prodigal Of tears, when she left Sicily; and taught us To call't our chiefest happiness, we should have A Queen, that reigned at home, that boar more sway Over the people of her breast, than country. It's holiness to pity her. Death on my fury, this sighed brands my best actions with a stain too deep for penitence to wash away. Did you hear that? Her madness grows strongly upon her. Grief dares not be so rude, did you but check it. Pleasure's the same in Naples as in Sicily. The eyes sad flux is tributary endue Unto your dead Lords memories, I confess it, It carries virtue in't, but how? while it is moderate I am too tame Piero, hold me not, Lest in deferring of a punishment, I make the sin mine own; had all malice Dwelt in one tongue, all slander too been housed Under the same roof with it, and both busy To plot the ruin of my own fair name; I could have stood unmoved: but my Charintha! Heavens! you ought t'inspire me with revenge, Such as you'd call a Synod to contrive, That I may meet this hellborn ravisher Of my Charintha's spotless fame, with vengeance As mighty as his crime. Now you grieve, I suffer double; Forgive me Lady, I have wronged you, and Only I. But then their virtues, by a thrifty providence, Are all summed up in thy blessed self, and make thee A happiness which if enjoyed must be Bestowed by gift, because above all purchase. Charintha, thou art cruel, and hast learned And art to wound to'th death, yet keep alive Whom thou hast killed, Obe but speedy in Thy execution, and when I come below: And walk those fields, that hapless lovers trace, I will report thee mild, soft as the Turtle in her down Perhaps report has injured me, and noised That I was jealous of Charintha's love; And you contrived this plot to make me hate you; Or, if you should repent, (as well you may,) Your favours so ill placed, upon a subject So poor and worthless; take they back again, Live happy in a better choice, Charintha. Th'ast robbed me of a soul:— Dares he abuse me to my face?— Piero Thou hast prevented me; t'shall never be said, That thou were't forwarder to vindicate Charintha's fame than I, then her Valenzo. Nor shall the cause, but the revenge be mine; I'll show my rage can flow as well as thine. Villain! Traitor thou liest; Hell, and thy self the greater mischief, has Conspired to ruin goodness. — Down holy anger! — One word, and I'm gone— you are my Sovereign, And there's divinity worn in that title, Which I adore, and think my self as happy In this so early doom, since you are pleased with't, As heaven had spoke it; though not till old age, When nature claimed it as a endue! Yet Sir Be gentle to my memory; and if At any time my crimes appear before you, Fresh in your thought, to stain my Heraldry, The happy mention of my virtuous acts, From some that love my dust, shall rise to plead My innocence—; and may you never live To curse the untimely hand; or hour that robbed you Of so much loyalty!— for you Ʋ rsini — If ere your name shall fallen in mention, when I come i'th other world, expect me not Your friend; I fear me, I shall tell sad tales In ears of heaven;—Farewell — Far easier than you, in whose sad lose The whole world suffers, and in thy untipe fallen Looses all goodness. No Contareno, we will not have thee painted in vile ugly colours, and clapped upon chimneys, thou shalt be cut— He that should hear thee talk thus, and not know thee well, would doubt thy valour. T'were punishment enough. Gonçales — I gratulate thy naval victory; France will have cause hereafter to mention thee in sad story, Thou givest them but a churlish salutation. Believe me, noble Soldier, thou art deer To fame; as old in victory, as in years, Yet still thou toilest t'undoe thy self, and benefit Thy ingrateful soil, which never will be able To requite thy meanest service. The Hero's, when thou comest into Elyzium, To give thee place, shall shift their blessed mansions. Would! whom have you there? Traitor! the Princess! Calantha! Dear Lady, not with you. If you please, you shall quickly see that, Command us sheath our swords in one another's Bosoms— we'll fly Like lightning to execute your Commands; — you're our Princess. Pernicious traitor. Our hearts and hands are yours: You do him too much honour. The Gods are just. A FATAL UNION. The ruined treasure of two Kingdoms In one heap. Yes, and Felicia too. I've waved a plume, dight me i'th warlike garb, Managed a sword, or shook a dreaded spear, Look't terrible, been pitiless to those That begged a life, revealed in cities sack't, And rifled tents: too poor and trivial matters To point at such rich ends as thee, (my love.) Thy blood runs high, there's not one purple stream Cased in these a zure veins, but is derived From'th spring of Princely ancestry, and th'art The wealthy storehouse of their Fortune's too. Traitor. Is it your fear, Madame? can he deserve less in Your fair opinion, than to be thought immortal? That death at length should boast a victory Over so much goodness. — Methinks (Piero) Thou shouldst for ever stand a rich example, To all mankind, who in thy fallen will sicken, And die to virtue; enjoy the happiness Of thine own fate; I will not rob thee of One precious minute; live till time has poured A reverend snow upon thy head.— I'll bow my self beneath the stroke. What! And betray my friend to death? Was thy too forward zeal, and a ripe spirit. That spurred thee on to Actium, thou didst it for Thy friend, for me, and had not justice been Wronged in't, the honour had been mine, why not The shame? No more! It'll prove a breach of friendship else, I must not, Shall not die: my honour suffers double, Thou wouldst foil me both in love, and valour. —It's late. Each man retire to his quarter: Captains, We entertain your merit with a serious welcome. The King shall give you each particular thinks: He owes you both a trophy, In Parian marble, we'll rob the Quarries To rear thee up a glorious monument. We must disarm you Lady; — t'is a duty to our Prince Was never till now unwillingly performed! You must back to'th Court, whither we'll wait upon you. Treason, treason, raise the Court. Villain I greet thy heart. The Prince wounded! Frederico. Lady: I'll tell you that within.— Charintha is your Queen. Remove the bodies, i'th morning we will take order for the state, and funeral rites. Of these; the lasting story of whose wrongs Shall be all royal lovers evening songs. Charintha mine! I hold all worth in her. I, that to purchase fame, and idle breath, Could venture forth abroad into the world, And leave thee here a prey to ravenous wolves; Expose thee tender years of a weak virgin To labour' gainst the furious tied of lust That has assaulted thee; that my low birth Should stand in needs of such additions, To raise me to a height, might equal yours: That virtue and not blood ennobled us, This then had never happened.