PIERO

If that be all, fear not, I'll suit it right. Who can not be proud, stroke up the hair, and strut! But me thinks he speaks with a spruce Attic ac cent of adulterate Spanish. 'Tis horselike, not for man, to know his force. Pish, I prosecute my families revenge, Which I'll pursue with such a burning chase Till I have dried up all Andrugios blood; Weak rage, that with slight pity is withstood. What means that fresh triumphal flourish found? Weel girded them with and ample waste of love; Conduct them to our presence royally. Let volleys of the great Artillery From of our galleys banks play prodigal, And sou ̄ worser loud welcome from ̄ their bellowing mouths. Beauteous Amazon, fit, and seat your thoughts In the reposure of most soft content. Found music there. Nay daughter, clear your eyes, From these dull fogs of misty discontent: Look sprightly girl. What? though Antonio's drowned, That peevish dotard on thy excellence, That hated issue of Andrugio: Yet mayest thou triumph in my victories; Since, lo, the high born bloods of Italy Sue for thy seat of love. Beauty and youth run descant on loves ground. Gallants, the night grows old; & downy sleep Courts us, to entertain his company: Our tired lymbes, bruised in the morning fight, Entreat soft rest, and gentle hushed repose. Fill out Greek wines; prepare fresh cressit-light: Weel have a banquet: Princes, then good night. Take up your paper, Rossaline. Not yours, my Lady? I'll see what 'tis. Meet me at Abrahams, the Jews, where I bought my Amazons disguise. A ship lies in the port, ready bound for England; make haste, come private. Antonio, Forobosco, Alberto, Feliche, Castilio, Balurdo? run, keep the Palace, post to the ports, go to my daugh ters chamber: whither now? scud to the Jews, stay, run to the gates, stop the gundolets, let none pass the marsh, do all at once. Antonio? his head, his head. Keep you the Court, the rest stand still, or run, or go, or shout, or search, or scud, or call, or hang, or do do do, sum sum sum, something: I know not who who who, what I do do do, nor who who who, where I am. Oh trista traditriche, rea, ribalda fortuna, Negando mi vindetta mi causam feram mortem, Hold, there's my signet, take a gundelet: Bring me his head, his head, and by mine honour, I'll make thee the wealthiest Mariner that breathes. Speak heartily i'faith, good Mariner. Oh, we will mount in triumph: soon, at night, I'll set his head up. Lets think where. Sprightly, i'faith. In troth he's somewhat Like My daughter Mellida: but alas poor soul, Her honour heals, God knows, are half so light. Ho, this will warm my bosom ere I sleep. I, I, my daughter's safe enough, I warrant thee. This vengeance on the boy will lengthen out My days unmeasuredly. It shall be chronicled, time to come; Piero Sforza slew Andrugio's son. I, I, my good wench, she is safe enough. Run away, away, how run away? Pursue, pursue, fly, run, post, scud away. Fly, call, run, row, ride, cry, shout, hurry, haste: Haste, hurry, shout, cry, ride, row, run, call, fly Backward and forward, every way about. Maldetta fortuna high condura sorta I faro, I diro, pur fugir tanto mal! This way she took: search, my sweet gentleme ̄ . How now Balurdo, canst thou meet with any body? What, in the name of heaven? Boy, didst thou see a young Lady pass this way? Where man, where? Light and unduteous! kneel not, peevish self, Speak not, entreat not, shame unto my house, Curse to my honour. Where's Antonio? Thou traitress to my hate, what is he shipped For England now? well whimpering harlot, hence. Good me no goods. Seest thou that sprightly youth? ere thou canst term to morrow morning old, thou shalt call him thy husband, Lord and love. Blirt on your ay mees, guard her safely hence. Drag her away, isle be your guard to night. Young Prince, mount up your spirits, and prepare To solemnize your Nuptials eve with popme. Fair niece, your reason? Trust me, a good strong mean, Well sung my boy. Faith, mad niece, I wonder when thou wilt marry? Stay, stay, sweet niece, what makes you thus sus pect young gallants worth. How's that, how's that? too sad? By heaven dance, And grace him to, or, go to, I say no more. How now blunt Feliche, what's the news? Conduct him with attendance sumptuous, Found all the pleasing instruments of joy: Make triumph, stand on tiptoe whilst we meet: Oh sighed most gracious, Oh revenge most sweet! We still with most unmoved resolved confirm Our large munificence: and here breath A sad and solemn protestation: When I recall this vow, Oh, let our house Be even commanded, stained, and trampled on, As worthless rubbish of nobility. We are amazed, our royal spirits numbed, In stiff astonished wonder at thy prowess, Most mighty, valiant, and high towering heart. We blush, and turn our hate upon our selves, For hating such and unpeered excellence. I joy my state: him whom I loathed before, That now I honour, love; nay more, adore. But stay: what tragic spectacle appears, Whose body bear you in that mournful hearse? Oh that my tears, bedeawing thy won cheek, Could make new spirit sprout in thy could blood. O that my life, her love, my dearest blood Would but redeem one minute of his breath. Fair son (now I'll be proud to call thee son) Enjoy me thus; my very breast is thine: Possess me freely, I am wholly thine. Young Florence prince, to you my lips must beg, For a remittance of your interest. No man else makes claim unto her. Then here I give her to Antonio. Royal, valiant, most respected prince, Let's clip our hands; I'll thus observe my vow; I promised twenty thousand double Pistolets, With the endearing to my dearest love, To him that brought thy head; thine be the gold, To solemnize our houses unity: My love be thine, the all I have be thine. Fill us fresh wine, the form weel take by this: Weel drink a health, while they two sip a kiss. Now, there remains no discord that can found Harsh accents to the ear of our accord: So please your niece to match. I will. Found Lidian wires, once make a pleasing note, On Nectar streams of your sweet airs, to float. Faith, we can say our parts: but we are ignorant in what mould we must cast our Actors. Pish, Dimitto superos, summa votorum attigi. Alberto, hast thou yielded up our fixed decree Unto the Genoan Ambassador? Are they content if that their duke return, To send his, and his son Antonios head, As pledges steeped in blood, to gain their peace? Are Proclamations sent through Italy, That whosoever brings Andrugios head, Oryoung Anthonios, shall be guerdoned With twenty thousand double Pistolets, And be indeened to Pieros love? Advance the musiques prize, now capering wits, Rise to your highest mount; let choice delight Garland the brow of this triumphant night. Sfoot, a sits Like Lucifer himself. Nay faith, sweet niece, I was mighty strong in thought we should have shut up night with and old Comedy: the Prince of Milan shall have Mellida, & thou shouldst have The room's too scant: boys, stand in there, close. What might import this flourish? bring us word. Victorious Fortune, with triumphant hand, Hurleth my glory about this ball of earth, Whilst the Venetian Duke is heaved up On wings of fair success, to overlook The low cast ruins of his enemies, To see my self adored, and Genoa quake, My fate is firmer then mischance can shake. Hah? and earthquake? Oh, my sweet Princes, was't not bravely found? Even there I found the note, even there it lay. I kiss the place for joy, that there it lay. This way he went, here let us make a stand: I'll keep this gate my self: Oh gallant youth! I'll drink carouse unto your countries health, Even in Antonio's scull. Where, where man, where? Good: but whom act you? Sweet niece continued ̄ tent: boys clear your voice & sing. Duke of Venice.