EPIRE

They are your rights, we claim as challengers. They are of poisse sufficient, and one light Shall at one instant, give us day and night. I am the Duke of Epyre, and the mine, Which does attract my spirit to run this marshal course, Is the fair guard of a distressed Queen, Would wed to hate and in equality and brutish force, Which to withstand I boldly enter thus, And will defail, or else prove recreant. Neither bold Prince, if thou but touch a hair, The kings breath shall redeem it: madame your love Is safe in angels guarding, let no fear Shake hands with doubtfulness, you are as safe As in a tower of Diamonds. Thou art the index of mine ample thought, And I am pleased with thine election. Speak madame, if ever I deserved grace, Grace me with your consent. Then rise and live with safety. Thine axe hath not the power to wound my thought, And yields a word my tongue could never found, I say th'art worthy valiant, for my death, Let the Queen speak it, 'tis and easy breath. How Like the suns great bastard over the world, Rides this man mounted engine, this proud prince And with his breath sindges our continents Fit fast proud Phaeton, for by heaven isle kick And plunge thee in the sea: if thou'lt needs ride, Thou shouldst have made thy seat upon a slave, And not upon mine honours firmament. Thou hast not herd the God of wisdoms tale, Nor can thine youth curb greatness, till my hate, Confound thy life with villain policy. I am resolved since virtue hath disdained To cloth me in her riches, henceforth to prove A villain fatal, black and ominous: Thy virtue is the ground of my dislike: And my disgrace, the edge of envies sword, Which Like a razor shall unplumb thy crest; And rob thee of thy native excellence, When great thoughts give their homage to disgrace Thers's no respect of deeds, time, thoughts or place. For Gods love cease your trouble, we are all Troubled with griefs of stranger qualities. Your own content ts follow you. Now gentlemen what news within, can this dumb wonder speak? Have you cut off those lets that tied his speech. And made your fame to found thorough Sicille? I should think strangely, had we strange things on earth; But wonders now are most familiar: But here comes his majesty, now we shall see If this dumb beast can speak before the king. Your Majesty shall have your will performed. You sister, are you in your wits? Sister you shall not grasp with mischief thus, My blood does challenge interest in your ill, And I conjure you from this desperateness. Grief which controls the motions of our thoughts, Reins in my blood and makes me passion slave, My sisters misery torments my soul, And breaks my gall when I but think of her: She was bewicht with spells to her misfortune, Or else born hapless under a lowering star, And 'tis her fate to be thus miserable: Oh Philocles hadst thou no other scale To mount thy heaven but by our Misery's, Must all the noble fame of our great house Waste down her royal pillars to make steps For thee to climb to glory? well I see Thou plots our shames in thy great dignity. Mercy is banished courts, the King Like flint, Hardens his royal temper gainst our plaints, And makes our woes most unavoidable. What inauspicious star reigned at her birth, That heaven thus frowns upon her misery; And my good Lord, now innocence must die. As white as untroad snow, or culver down, Kings words are laws, and cannot be withstood; Yet t'is false greatness, which delights in blood. How well the found can salve the sick-man's grief! But Oh how ill he can digest his pills! Oh my good Lord, you shall not loose a sister, That is the joy and comfort of your breath, T'is not your blood shall issue from her wound, But mine that runs in rivers from her tears: And rounds my face in her calamity. Well, let her perish, since her soul is clear, And for her death, isle make a massacry. Sister, deer sister call thy spirits back; Sister, Oh sister, Harken to my woes, Recover breath and live with happiness. He will, but he will not, loves but cannot Like, Will and affection in this Prince are Like Two buckets which do never both ascend: Or those star twins which shine not in one sphere. Oh Philoceles, I see thy soul grows fat, And feeds upon the glories of my same; But I'll forestall thine Epileptique fits; And by my plots breed thy destruction. Revenge now rules as soueragine of my blood, And others ruins shall advance my good. Which once attained to, I will prove ambitious, Great men Like Gods, are never thought-vicious. Now Philocles stand fast, King guard thy crown, For by this brain, you both shall tumble down. My thoughts are troubled, Joy forsakes me quite, And all my meditations are revenge: Ambition and fell murder join in me, And aid each other to untwine a state, And make whole millions prove unfortunate. Now must I practice court art flattery, And wisely temporise with blackest deeds: I'll smile and stab now weep, then laugh, then frown, And with sly tricks of state kill all suspicion. Devils must seem Like Angels, says ambition, The blackest thoughts I'll study to excel, Crowns and revenge have made men dive to hell. My plot is currant and it cannot miss, While wisdom winds me on the clew of bliss. The King shall kill the Queen, that acted right, I soon will turn his brightest day to night. He's simple, honest, and loves downy rest, Then he must fallen, 'tis policy in state To hurl them down are blessed with happy fate. Thus each shall scourge himself with his own rod, Who is all policy, avows no God. Who is within there hoe? I did, where is the King? Go straight and tell him I must speak with him, And say my business does import great haste. Be a blessed Mercury, now mount thee up my spirit, And show thy self a Politician, Let slander rule thy tongue, envy thy heart, And let destruction be thy perjod Of what thou speakest; for this my maxim is, But rule no heaven, and but revenge no bliss. First with my knee I kiss this prostrate earth, And humbly beg, that which my tongue shall speak, So it proceed from love and vassalage, May bear a pardon or forgetfulness. Oh my dread Liege, my speech will make you sad, (And Kings do seldom relish their distastes) And from that sadness such a storm will rise As will even droune up all credulity. Oh that my loyal heart could cover sin, Or that my tongue inured unto grief, Might loose his spleen ere it distemper you, But love and mine allegiance bid me speak. Women, why were you made for men affliction, The first that ever made us taste of grief, And last of whom in torments we complain, You devils shaped Like Angels, through whose deeds, Our forked shames are made most visible, No soul of sense would wrong bright Majesty, Nor stain their blood with such impurity. Then plainly thus, your bed is pressed with lust. I know you do not credit, nay whats more, I know you hate me for my vertuousnes, Your Queen behaves her Like a courtesan, I know you hold me for a vild imposter, Oh foolish zeal that makes me be so found To leave my faith unto black censuring, Oh she hath sinned and done a double wrong To you, to her and sacred chastity. Nay do, my breast is bore unto thy steel, Kill me because I love thee and speak true, Is this the merit of a Roman faith, For this have I observed, pried in unto, And searched each secret shift of vanity? Nay pray you kill me, faith I'll patient stand, Live still a monster, hold shame in your hand. Death is a slave to him that is resolved, And my soul loathes this servile flattery: Nor will I cover such intemperate sin, But to the world make them and that transparent, Unless your self will seek to right your self. Your absence is the baud to her desires, For their masks, dancings, gaming, banqueting, Strange private meetings and all to fes in love. As wanton speeches to stir Appetite, And all enchantments that inflame desire. When you return, then all is hushed and still, And she demurely walks Like virtues Ghost: Before your face she's Like a Puritane, Behind your back a blushes courtesan. He that you prize a line before your life, I know you will not credit faith you will not. Your best of friends, your dearest Philocles Usurps your bed and makes you a cornute, A creature uncreate in paradise. And one thats only of a woman's making. Nay be but patient, smooth your brow a little, And you shall take them as they clip each other. Even in their height of sin then dam them both, And let them stink before they ask God pardon, That your revenge may stretch unto their souls. To have a pleasant scoff at Majesty. But he shall lose his paradise for that. And wound your reputation in strange Lands. Horns are not shunned by wisdom, wealth or birth Thou dancest on my heart lascivious Queen, Even as upon these rushes, which thou treadest: See how her motions wind about his eyes, And does present to him her passion, Now does her moistening palm glow in his hand And courts him unto dalliance: she die, 'tis joust, She's slave to murder that is slave to lust. Now to the king, blow rage till it flame hate, A politician thrives the best in state. I go my Lord. Madame his majesty is returned to court. My plot yet holds a true proportion, And I do see, and even way to rule, A crown Like a bold champion bids me on, And fame shall chronicle mine enterprise: The Queen being dead, I must oppose my self, Against her tyrant husband, thats my claim And with strong courage, stand the shock of war: If of my self I can withstand the King, Then all the Land will flock unto mine aid, if not, The king is Gods anointed, my head fits the block, And thats the worst, yet future times will tell: I sunk not slightly, for a crown I fell. Roll on the chariot wheels of my deer plots, And bear mine ends to their desired kes: As yet the not a rub of wit, a gulf of thought, No rocky misconstruction, thorny amaze, Or other let of any doubtfulness; As yet thy way is even smooth and plain, Like the green Ocean, in a silent calm. Blessed credulity, thou great God of error, That art the strong foundation of huge wrongs, To thee give I my vows and sacrifice, By thy great deity he does believe Falsehoods, that falsehoods self could not invent, And from that misbelief does draw a course To overwhelm even virtue, truth and sanctity. Let him go on blessed stars, 'tis meet he fallen, Whose blindfold judgement hath no guide at all. But Oh these shadows have bewitchted long, To threat and not to do, does malice wrong; And see here comes the Queen. I humbly beseech your highness pardon me, I have important business of the Kings, Which does command mine instant diligence. Sister content you, the affairs of state Must give their best attendance on the times, And great occurrents must not loose their minutes. My service Madam, but my presence the King hath employed, only if you please, I will send Prince Philocles to your Majesty. I will, and send affliction after him, And see where he comes, My Lord your presence hath Saved me much labour, and a little care, I was in quest for your fair company: The Queen my Lord intreats you earnestly You will attend her in her privy chamber. Only to waste some time at cards with her, The lazy hours stick heavy on her thoughts, Which she would loose with some forgetfulness. Gone to her privy chamber where she does ex pect you. Do, and I will attend thee to thy graven, Poor shallow Lord, by much too virtuous. Hoe, whose within there? Go tell his Majesty that I must speak with him. Speak softly gentle Lord behold, behold The silly birds are tangled in your snare, And have no way to escape your punishment: See how her eyes do court him, and his looks pay to her love a double interest: fie fie, they are toe blame. Mark that, of my life she means your Majesty. Nay good my Lord observe, they will confirm you better. Does your Majesty mark that? You are the King that she is weary of, And my sister the Queen that he will castaway. Would you have more plain proof of their foul treason? They do not plot your highness death alone. My self and those which do you services, They are bloody minded, yet for my self, Were it not for your safety, I could wish You would remit and blot these errors out, In hope that time would bring them to more virtue. No they were condemned by Act of Parliament. For him, if ere mine eyes weep, may they drop out And leave my body blinder then my sense: Pity my foe the ruin of my house, My valours scandal, and mine honours poison! No let him fallen, for blood must still quench lust, Law hath condemd him, then his death is joust. Canst thou love him that brought thee to thy death? Did he not win thy love and then reject thee? Found maid thy foolish dotage does mistake him. Farewell then sister, friend to my greatest foe, Revenge strikes home, being ended with one blow. Madame, although against the nature of my spirit, And my first duty, bound to your allegiance, Yet now compelled by duty and by truth, I must of force become your opposite. Be lucky villainy, Hit now the mark that mine ambition aims at Me thinks I see that lean Italian devil, jealousy, dance In his eyes: possess him spirit of rage, Mufflle his understanding with black thoughts, Let passion govern reason, falsehood truth, Oblivion hide his age, hate kill his youth. Thou curse of greatness, waking eyed suspicion, Now help thy poor friends, murder and ambition. The fitter for you with more light sports To chase that blood consumer from your breast, Who with a honey poison does devour, And kill the very life of livelihood. Didst thou speak true, I would not found a word To save the world from cinders; yet that thou mayest With more resolved fury murder me, This I confess, it I that only stirred, Out of strong falsehoods hate and jealousy The kings eternal wrath, and made him think Untruths, that even untruth would not suggest: And all my malice sprung from that Prince Philocles. They are Like wrath, Never unarmed to Beatrice weak injury. He's gone with black suspicion in his heart: And made his soul a slave to jealousy, My plots shall driven him to his own destruction; And I gain both revenge and dignity. He shall no sooner put his Queen to death, But isle proclaim her spotless innocence. All men will hate him for so vile and act, And mad with rage depose him from his crown. Then I will be his death, his state does give, Kings once deposed, long after must not live; For Like a Phoenix rare in jealousy,, He shall consume himself in scorching flames, Whilst from his ashes I a Phoenix spring: Many renounce their God to be a king, And isle be one to kill men with a frown. None dare dispute the actions of a crown. No, had I no other weight; But we are all down pressed with other poise: As for your suit it is referred to Prat: And he must give you fair dispatch with favour; Which if he sleight for envy or for bribe, Repair to me, and I will not forget To give you ease, and chide his negligence. Mean space I pray you leave me, for we all Are troubled now with greatest miracles. HOw now mad sister, your deer love is condemned, A sweet adulterer.