LUCRETIA

Lucretia cast off all servile fear, Revenge to y see e upon thy jealous husband TO to thine honour, wronged thy bed: F re not; w that resolution act his death: L ace in policies now prove Caesars Sister, y S ratagems as he: ave found examples in all times. thou m lt he c ll to mind, wrath f ll fury, indeous : there of her only son, A Dau hters (all but one) I one night, their husbands sleeping slew. My as ust as theirs, my heart as resolute, My hands as ready. G smond I come, Would ld on with fury oh revenge these wrongs And love imp soned with thy jealousy, I have de ised such a cum jous S are, As never yet devised, To gram pe h S arms v able to res st, Worser aths I S ruments enclosed in these hands. You Dau h ers of gum Erebus, Which spit out venge ce from your vipe ous heirs, Inf e a three- g in these arms; I ble r ng indurate heart, To consummate the pl oh my revenge. Here comes the sn ect of my Tragedy. Demandest that u the cause miutious Gismond? When Like a reduse (shut up from he world) I live close prisoner to thy jealousy? The Esperian Dragons kept not with more watch, The golden ruit then thou my fatal beauty: Thou wouldst exclude me from the S ght of Sun, But that his beams break to rough some cum sies Thou woul st worser bar e me om the common air, that against my will I uck it in, A worser breat it out in sealding sighs again: Were I in N xos no no see is hea worser But N m es age ghts but ruthelesse rocks. Or in to e Libi n eser S or ex hanged This Hemisph e oh Room for Int odes, We e ot so g ous as to dwell in Room, Ba Head and conference f friends. Scoffst thou me Jesu and with h continual taunts? O God of heavens, shall both suffer shame And scorn, with such dispisd captivity. Thou will so S ear thy self: Gismond come hither? Fit down and answer me this question. Gismond sitteth down in a Chair, Lucretia on a stool beside him. When I bestowed on thee this diamond A Jew l once held precious as my life; And w that it Can to away my self on thee Didst to ou not promi e to ma ntaine mine honour, in word nor deed to give suspect Oh y and hast that u not since then In of my ne es Noble friends a for my lightness ? his more y up So and sighed of them? I can no longer brook these base rebukes. These riddles and close libellings Where y Lord? my deam L worser? O might I find and other murderer. My hea to swollen up with sorrow, lends no light Unto mine eyes, nor force unto my tongue To see one letter, or to read one word, I pray you read it good Lord Barbarossa. I Gismond de Viselli through desperate grief conceived in iea lousy (which I bore against my Lady Lucrecia ) having found out by much trial, and examina ion her faithfulness and inno cency, make this my protestation as the last piacular oblation to her for those wrongs that with mine own unfortunate hands I have ended my li e, desring her and all others to forgive me, and pray for me, subscribed with mine own hand, a worser sealed with my seal. Gismon de Viselli. This is his hand and seal, speak now my Lord: Did not I soon disclose the murderer? Told I not that the mur herer was present? Ah never never shall I live to see. she soundeth. Give me my Lord again, death shall not have him, Come my deer G smond come agam ne my joy: Delay me not least I prevent thy lo e I cannot brook delay's, L crece shall follow. O my deer friends that see my Misery's, I you beseech in deam est tenderness Bring in the body of my dearest Lord; That I before my death may (with these eyes) Behold him honoured in his obsequies. He that alive was shrined in my breast, Now dead lives yet entombed in my thoughts, There is a model of it in my closet. Kind Lodowick hadst thou presented me, With Persian clothes of gold or Tinsilry, With rich Arabian Odours, precious stones, Or what brave women hold in highest price, Could not have been so gracious as this tincture, Which I more value then my richest jewels, O Motticilla. Enter Motticilla. Bring me some mixtures and my dressing boxes, This night I purpose privately to sup With my Lord Cardinal of Capva. Bring me some blanching water in this bowl. Exit Motti. Here I perceive a little riueling Above my forehead but I wimple it Either with jewels or a lock of hair, And yet it is as white as the pure snow: Oh God when that sweet Marks Mantua, Did in Ferrara feast my Lord and me, What rich comparisons and similes, He with ingenious fantasy devised, Doting upon the whiteness of my brows? As that betwixt them stood the chair of state, Composed of Ivory for the Paphian Queen: Sitting in comfort after amorous conquest. And kissed my forehead twenty thousand times. Oft have I wished the colour of this hair More bright, and not of such a Spanish die, And yet the Duke of Bourbon on his knees, As the divinest favour of this world, Did beg one lock to make a Bracelet, For which few hairs he garnished my head With Jewels worth six thousand crowns at least. My beaming eyes yet full of Majesty, Dart love, and give bright luster to the glass, As when the sun beams touch a Diamond. The Prince of Salerne solemnly did swear, These eyes were quivers which such shafts did bear That were so sharp, and had such fiery touch, As Cupid's Arrows never had so much, The Rosy Garden of these amorous cheeks, My nose the gracious fort of conquering love, Breathing attractive odours to those lovers That languish and are vanquished with desi e, Gonzagam calls it the silver perch, Where Venus turtles mutual pleasure search. Sweet mouth the uby port to Paradise Of my world's pleasure from whence issue forth, Many fa see brags, bold sallies, sweet supplies, A chin the matchless fabric of fair nature, A neck two breasts upon whose cherry niples. So many sweet solcions Cupid sucked, Give me some blanching water in this boul, Wash my face Motticilla with this cloth, So 'tis well now will I try these colours. Give me that oil of Talck, Take sa snet Motticilla smooth my forehead. I must delay this colour is it carnation right. What is it excellent. I will correct these arches with this mullet, Pluck not to hard, believe me Motticilla, You pluck to hard. I feel a foul stink in my nostrils, Some stink is vehement a worser hurts my brain, My cheeks both burn and sting give me my glass. Out out for shame I see the blood it self, Dispersed and inflamed, give me some water. My brains intoxicate my face is scalded. Hence with the glass: cool cool my face, rank poison, Is ministered to bring me to my death, I feel the venom boiling in my veins. Send to my father; call physicians in, Exit More I O Candy where art thou my comforter, Dead and entombed; Lucrece must follow thee, I burn I burn, o where is my deer Lord. My brains are seared up with some fatal fire. For our deer Ladies passion bring some water to cool my Thy st. A foul unsavoury loathsome stink chokes up My vital senses and a boiling heat suppes up the lively spirit in my lungs. What have I caught you Sforza, Who painted my fair face with these foul pots, You see them in my soul deformed blots, Deliver me from that murdered man, He comes to stab my soul I wounded him, O Gismond Gismond hide those bleeding wounds, My soul bleeds drops of sorrow for thy sake; Look not so wrathful I am penitent. Love and remorse did harbour in thine heart, What dost thou beckon to me I will come, And follow thee through millions of woes. No rest until I see my Lord again. Peace w etched villain, then receive this quickly: Or by the living powers of heaven isle kill thee. Take pen and ink: 'tis not to make thy will; For if then wilt subscribe, I will not kill. 'Tis but to clear those scandals of my shame, With which thy jealousy did me defame. So now that partly is played, what follows now? Thou Ribbauld, Cuckold Rascal, Libeler, Pern cious Leech void of a l performance; Per u jous Coxcomb, oule, now for those wrongs Which no great spirit could well tolerate Come I, with mortal vengeance on thy soul. Take this for sclandring of his Holiness My blessed father and my brother Caesar She stabbeth With incest: this take for my brother Candy : And this for Noble Sphorza whom thou wrongest; And since the time is short I will be short: For locking up of me, calling me whore, Setting esp alls tending at my tail; Take this and this & this to make amends. three sta S together. And put thee from thy pains; Now will my father Alexander say That I did take the best and safest way, And Caesar will app oue it with his heart, That Lucrere hath performed a cunning part. If others ask who Gismonde killed or why It was himself repenting jealousy. Exit Lucretia. Brother me thinks the air is cold and raw, And as you please let us confer within. Wha honour or what more tall spectacle. Upon such sudden hath astonished me? O my deer Lord: Visell speak to me: O most disastrous accident and hour; Ay me most wretched and unfortunate, My dearest the treasu e of my life, The sweetest paradi e of my best Hope's, Is murth ed I k out the murderers Leave not unsear cht a corner n r a Cranny: Lock up the oats there least that homicide Escape us in to I passion — As with a dead Corpse in a Sepulcher Cold liveless, comfortless, oppressed with sorrow. Nor since my joy did leave me desolate Ever could I brook well this open air But still lamenting and disconsolate Kept up in Chamber, mourning for my Lord. From the pure burning coals of true contrition. Me thinks I see the lively counterfeit, Of catiue Cressed in her misery, Ingenderd out of his disloyalty, Ah Moticilla whom I trained up In cunning sleights and snares of filthiness, Forgive me for that sin; live and repent. Ah Noble Barbaro a much I fea e Now with to ease eyes I see the murderer, S aind with the gilded of nature; h my Lord You l ttle kn w that these w ke w men would ds Twice escued have the v ole e oh his; From killing of himself before this time: O f e upon the devil, and melancholy; Which leave me desolate a forlorn widow. I can no more, death summoneth my soul, Open thy bosom father Abraham, Merciful father let thy mercy pass Extend thy mercy where no mercy was. Merciful father for thy sons deer merit Pardon my sinnfull soul receive my spirrit. Expirat Lucrece.