ISABELLA

My Lord of Cypress, do not mock my grief: Tears are as endue a Tribute to the dead, As fear to God, and duty unto Kings. Love to the Just, or hate unto the Wicked. I wail his lose! Sink him ten cubits deeper, I may not fear his resurrection: I will be sworn upon the holy Writ I morn thus fervent cause, he died no sooner: He buried me alive, And mued me up Like Cretan Daedelus, And with walleyed Jealousy kept me from hope Of any waxed wings to fly to pleasure. But now his soul her Argos eyes hath clo'sd, And I am free as air. You of my sex, In the first flow of youth use you the sweets Endue to your proper beauty's, ere the ebb And long wain of unwelcome change shall come. Fair women play: she's chaste whom none will have. Here is a man of a most mild aspect, Temperate, effeminate, and worthy love, One that with burning ardor hath pursued me: A donative he hath of every God; Apollo gave him locks, Jove his high front, The God of Eloquence his flowing speech, The feminine Deities strowed all their bounties And beauty on his face: that eye was Juno's, Those lips were his that won the golden Ball, That virgin-blush Diana's : here they meet, As in a sacred Synod. My Lords, I must entreat A while your wished forbearance. And kiss thus too? Pray frown my Lord, let me see how many wives You'll have. Heighho, you'll bury me I see. Then folks shall pray in vain to send me rest. Away, you're such another meddling Lord. Alas poor creatures, when we are once o'the falling hand, A man may easily come over us. It is as hard for us to hide our love, As to shut sin from the Creators eyes. I faith my Lord, I had a Months mind unto you, As tedious as a full riped Maidenhead. And Count of Cypress, think my love as pure, As the first opening of the blooms in May; Your virtues man; nay, let me not blush to say so: And see for your sake thus I leave to sorrow. Begin this subtle conjuration with me, And as this Taper, endue unto the dead, I here extinguish, so my late dead Lord I put out ever from my memory, That his remembrance may not wrong our love. Puts out the Taper. As boldfaced women when they wed another, Banquet their husbands with their dead loves heads. Good my Lord, be my expositer. To the Cardinal. 'Twas Music that he spoke. The third change ended, Ladies fallen off. He speaks not to this pledge, has he no Mistress? Would I might chosen one for him: but't may be Rogero dances a Laualto, or a Galliard, & in the amid of it, falls into the Brides lap, but straight leaps up, and dances it out. He does adore a brighter Star then we. Oh no, and easy fallen. Was I not deep enough, thou God of lust, But I must further wade? I am his now, As sure as Juno's Jove's, Hymen take flight, And see not me, it's not my wedding night. Exit Isabella. Sir, if Wine were Nectar I'll begin a health, To her that were most gracious in your eye, Yet deign, as simply it's the gift of Bacchus, To give her pledge that drinks: this God of Wine Cannot inflame me more to appetite, Though he be co-supreme with mighty Love, Then thy fair shape. That kiss shall serve To be a pledge although my lips should starve. No trick to get that vizor from his face? Sir, have you left nought behind? He's gone, that lightning that a while does strike Our eyes with amazed brightness, and on a sudden Leaves us in prisoned darkness. Lust thou art High, My smiles may well come from the Sky. Anna, Anna. Enter ANNA. Follow yond stranger, prithee learn his name: We may hereafter thank him. How I dote? Exit Anna. Is he not a God That can command what other men would win With the hardest advantage? I must have him, Or shadowlike follow his fleeting steps. Were I as Daphne, and he followed chase, Though I rejected young Apollo's love, And Like a Dream beguile his wandering steps, Should he pursue me through the neighbouring grove, Each Cowslip stalk should trip a willing fallen, Till he were mine, who till then am his thrall: Nor will I blush, since worthy is my chance. It's said that Venus with a Satire slept, And how much short came she of my fair aim? Then Queen of Love a president I'll be, To teach fair women learn to love of me. Speak Music, what's his name. Enter ANNA. Blessed be thy tongue: the worthy Count indeed, The worthiest of the Worthies. Trusty Anna, Hast thou packed up those Moneys, Plate, and Jewels I gave direction for? I thank thee, take the wings of night, Beloved Secretary, and post with them to Swevia, There furnish up some stately Palace Worthy to entertain the King of Love: Prepare it for my coming and my Loves, Ere Phœbus Steeds once more unharnessed be, Or ere he sport with his beloved Thetis, The silver-footed Goddess of the Sea, We will set forward. Fly Like the Northern wind, Or swifter, Anna, fleet Like to my mind. So to the house of Death the mourner goes, That is bereft of what his soul desired, As I to bed, I to my nuptial bed, The heaven on earth: so to thought slaughters went The pale Andromeda bedewed with tears, When every minute she expected gripes of a fell monster, And in vain bewailed the act of her creation. Sullen Night that lookest with sunk eyes on my nuptial bed, With never a Star that smiles upon the end, Mend thy slack pace, and lend the malcontent, The hoping lover, and the wishing Bride Beams that too long thou shadowest: or if not In spite of thy fixed front when my loathed Mate Shall struggle in endue pleasure for his right, I'll think't my love, and die in that delight. Exit. Here, take this Letter, bear it to the Count: But Boy, first tell me; thinkest thou I am in love? Canst thou not tell? Dost thou not see my face? Is not the face the Index of the mind? And canst thou not destinguish Love by that? Then take this Letter and deliver it Unto the worthy Count. No, fie upon him, Come back again: tell me, why shouldst thou think That same's a Love-letter? I know thou dost: for thou dost ever use To hold the wrong opinion. Tell me true, Dost thou not think that Letter is of Love? What dost thou think thy Lady is so found? Give me the Letter, thy self shall see it. Yet I should tear it in the breaking open, And make him lay a wrongful charge on thee; And say thou brokest it open by the way; And saw what heinous things I charge him with: But it's all one, the Letter is not of love, Therefore deliver it unto himself, And tell him he's deceived, I do not love him. But if he think so bid him come to me, And I'll confute him straight; I'll show him reasons, I'll show him plainly why I cannot love him. And if he hap to read it in thy hearing, Or chance to tell thee that the words were sweet, Do not thou then disclose my lewd intent, Under those Syren words, and how I mean To use him when I have him at my will: For then thou wilt destroy the plot that's laid, And make him fear to yield when I do wish Only to have him yield; for when I have him, None but my self shall know how I will use him. Be gone, why stayest thou? yet return again. Why dost thou come again? I bade thee go. If I say, Go, never return again. Exit Page. My blood, Like to a troubled Ocean, Cuffed with the Winds, incertain where to rest, Buts at the utmost share of every limb. My Husband's not the man I would have had: Oh my new thoughts to this brave sprightly Lord, Was fixed to that hid fire Lovers feel: Where was my mind before, that refined judgement, That represents rare objects to our passion? Or did my lust beguile me of my sense? Making me feast upon such dangerous cates, For present want, that needs must breed a surfeit: How was I shipwracked? yet Isabella think Thy Husband is a noble Gentleman, young, wise, And rich: think what Fate follows thee, And nought but lust does blind thy worthy love: I will desist. Oh no, it may not be. Even as a headstrong Courser bears away His Rider, vainly striving him to stay. Or as a sudden gale thrusts into Sea The Haven-touching Bark, now near the lea: So wavering Cupid brings me back again, And purple Love resumes his Darts again: Here of themselves, thy shafts come as if shot: Better then I thy quiver knows they not Your love, my Lord, I blushingly proclaim it, Hath power to draw me through a wilderness, Were't armed with Furies, as with furious Beasts. Boy, bid our Train be ready, wee'll to horse. Ex. Page. My Lord, I should say something, but I blush, Courting is not befitting to our sex. You love not me so well as I love you. Then show your love. My Lord, will you pursue the plot? Like one that escapes dangers on the Seas, Yet trembles with cold fears being safe on land, With bore imagination of what's passed. Fear in this kind, my Lord, does sweeten love. Fear's sire to fervency, Which makes loves sweet prove Nectar: Trembling desire, fear, hope, and doubtful leisure, Distil from love the Quintessence of pleasure. You are Times Scholar, and can flatter weakness. Anna, go see my Jewels and my Trunks Be aptly placed in their several rooms. Exit Anna. My Lord, know you this Gallant? it's a complete Gentleman. A rare shaped man: compare them both together, He's fairer then he was when first I saw him. This little time makes him more excellent. Error did blind him that paints Love blind; For my Love plainly judges difference: Love is clear sighted, and with Eagles eyes, Undazzled, looks upon bright Sunne-beam'd beauty: Nature did rob her self, when she made him. Blushing to see her work excel her self 'Tis shape makes mankind femelacie. Forgive me Rogero, it's my Fate To love thy friend, and quit thy love with hate. I must enjoy him, let hope thy passion smother: Faith cannot cool blood; I'll clip him, were't my brother. Such is the heat of my sincere affection, Hell nor earth can keep love in subjection. Thus innocence by craft is soon betrayed. My Lord Gniaca, it's your Art must heal me, I am lovesick for your love; love, love, for loving: I blush for speaking truth; fair Sir believe me, Beneath the Moon nought but your frown can grieve me. Count not my love light for this sudden change: By Cupid's Bow I swear, and will avow, I never knew true perfect love till now. Such love is mine, believe it well-shaped youth, Though women use to lie, yet I speak truth. Give sentence for my life or speedy death: Can you affect me? I'll be a miracle, for love a woman die, Offers to stab her self. Love me, or else by Jove death's but delayed: My vow is fixed in heaven, fear shall not move me, My life is death with tortures 'lesse you love me. My heart denies it. My blood is violent, now or else never, Love me, and Like loves Queen I'll fallen before thee, Enticing dalliance from thee with my smiles, And steal thy heart with my delicious kisses. I'll study Art in love, that in a rupture Thy soul shall taste pleasures excelling nature. Love me, both Art and nature in large recompense, Shall be profuse in ravishing thy sense. I kiss thee for that breath, this day you hunt; In amid of all your sports leave you Rogero, Return to me whose life rests in thy sighed, Where pleasure shall make Nectar our delight. Women are witless that cannot dissemble: Now I am sick again: where's my Lord Rogero? His love and my health's vanished both together. Your sighed to me, my Lord, excels all Physic; I am better far (my Love) then when you left me: Your friend was comfortable to me at the last. 'Twas but a fit, my Lord, and now it's passed. Are all things ready sir? Time that deuour'st all mortality, Run swiftly these few hours, And bring Gniaca on thy aged shoulders, That I may clip the rarest model of creation. Do this gentle Time And I will curl thine aged silver lock, And dally with thee in delicious pleasure. Medea -Like I will renew thy youth; But if thy frozen steps delay my love, I'll poison thee with murder, curse thy paths, And make thee know a time of infamy. Anna, give watch and bring me certain notice When Count Gniaca does approach my house. Desire, thou quenchless flame that burnest our souls, Cease to torment me; The dew of pleasure shall put out thy fire, And quite consume thee with satierie. Lust shall be cooled with lust, wherein I'll prove, The life of love is only saved by love. Enter Anna. Thou blessed Mercury, Prepare a banquet fit to please the Gods; Let Sphere-like Music breathe delicious tones Into our mortal ears; perfume the house With odoriferous sents, sweeter then Myrrh, Or all the Spices in Panchaia : His sighed and touching we will recreate, That his five Senses shall be fivefold happy. His breath Like Roses casts out sweet perfume; Time now with pleasure shall it self consume. Enter Gniaca in his hunting weeds. How Like Adonis in his hunting weeds, Looks this same Goddess tempter? And art thou come? this kiss entrance thy soul. Gods I do not envy you; for know this Way's here on earth complete, excels you bliss: I'll not change this nights pleasure with you all. My love was dotage till I loved thee; For thy soul truly tastes our petulance, Conditious Lover, Cupid's Intelligencer, That makes man understand what pleasure is: These are fit attributes unto thy knowledge; For women's beauty over men bear that rule. Our power commands the rich, the wise, the fool. Though scorn grows big in man in growth & stature, Yet women are the rarest works in nature. Cease admiration, fit to Cupid's feast, The preparation to Papheon dalliance, Harmonious Music breathe thy silver Airs, To stir up appetite to Venus banquet, That breath of pleasure that entrances souls, Making that instant happiness a heaven, In the true taste of loves deliciousness. I'll lead the way to Venus Paradise, Where thou shalt taste that fruit that made man wise. Exit Isab. May thy desire to me for ever last, Not die by surfeit on my delicates: And as I tie this Jewel about thy neck, So may I tie thy constant love to mine, Never to seek weaking variety, That greedy curse of men and woman's hell, Where nought but shame and loathed diseases dwell. My faith to thee, Like rocks, shall never move, The Sun shall change his course ere I my love. Enter Anna. Dear Love into my chamber, till I send My hate from sighed. Anna, stand here, and entertain Lord Rogero. I from my window straight will give him answer. The Serpents wit to woman rest in me, By that man fell, then why not he by me? Feigned sighs and tears dropped from a woman's eye, Blinds man of reason, strikes his knowledge dumb: Wit arms a woman, Count Rogero come. Exit Isabella. I must desire your Lordship pardon me. My Lord, my lust was blind, but now my soul's clear sighted, And sees the spots that did corrupt my flesh: Those tokens sent from hell, brought by desire, The messenger of everlasting death. Mock not Repentance. Profanation Brings mortals laughing to damnation. Believe it Lord, Isabella's ill passed life, Like gold refined, shall make a perfect Wife. I stand on firm ground now, before on Ice; We know not virtue till we taste of vice. Leave my house good my Lord, and for my partly, I look for a most wished reconciliation Betwixt my self and my most wronged Husband. Tempt not contrition then religious Lord. Nay, then you wrong me: and disdained Lord, I paid thee for thy pleasures vendible. Whose mercenary flesh I bought with coin, I will divulge thy baseness, 'lesse with speed Thou leave my house and my society. Rail not on me my Lord; for if you do, My hight desire of vengeance shall strike wonder; Revenge in woman falls Like dreadful thunder. Exit. Upon a Viper, that does get mine honour, I will not name him till I be revenged, See, hers the Libels are divulged against me, And everlasting scandal to my name. And thus the villain writes in my disgrace. Who loves Isabella the insatiate, Needs Atlas back for to content her lust, That wandering Strumpet, and chaste wedlock's hate, That renders truth: deceit for loyal trust, That sacrilegious thief to Himens rights, Making her lust her God, heaven her delights. Swell not proud heart, I'll quench thy grief in blood, Desire in woman cannot be withstood. Dare thy hand execute, whom my tongue condemns, Then art thou truly valiant, mine for ever, But if thou fainest, hate must our true love sever. Rogero. What does his name affright thee coward Lord? Be mad Isabella, curse on thy revenge, This Lord was knighted for his father's worth, Not for his own. Farewell thou perjured man, I'll leave you all, You all conspire to work mine honours fallen. Slave, I will slit thy tongue, less thou say no. Dare you revenge my quarrel, against a foe? Many have sworn the Like, yet broke their vow. My spotless honour, is a slave to spite: These are the monsters Venice does bring forth, Whose empty souls are bankrupt of true worth. False Count Guido, treacherous Guiaca, Countess of Gazia, and of rich Massino. Then if thou be'st a Knight, help the oppressed, Through danger safety comes, through trouble rest. And so my love. Think what reproach is to a woman's name, Honoured by birth, by marriage, and by beauty: Be God on earth, and revenge innocence, Oh worthy Spaniard, on my knees I beg, Forget the persons, think on their offence. Thus will I clip thy waste, embrace thee thus: Thus dally with thy hair, and kiss thee thus: Our Pleasures Pothean-like in sundry shapes, Shall with variety stir dalliance. Come Mars of lovers, Vulcan is not here, Make vengeance Like my bed, quite void of fear. There should be dancing on a green I think. Oh servant, how hast thou betrayed my life? To Sago. Thou art my dearest lover now I see. Thou wilt not leave me, till my very death. Blessed be thy hand, I sacrifice a kiss To it and vengeance: worthily thou didst, He died deservedly, not content to enjoy My youth and beauty, riches and my fortune: But Like a Chronicler of his own vice, In Epigrams and songs, he runed my name, Renowned me for a Strumpet in the Courts, Of the French King, and the great Emperor. Didst thou not kill him drunk. Thou shouldst, or in the embraces of his lust, It might have been a woman's vengeance. Yet I thank thee Sago, and would not wish him living Were my life instant ransom. Ther's money for the poor. Gives him money. You put me to my book my Lord, will not that save me. While thou Wertenberg my servant, thou hast ever said, Amen to all my wishes, witness this spectacle: Where's my Lord Medina? May we not be reprieved? No, 'tis my honour passed, Then ther's no hope of absolute remission. Can you do nothing my Lord Cardinal? You're all for this world, then why not I? Were you in health and youth, Like me my Lord, Although you merited the crown of life, And stood in state of grace, assured of it: Yet in this fearful separation, Old as you are, e'ne till your latest gasp, You'd crave the help of the Physician: And wish your days lengthened one summer longer Though all be grief, labour and misery, Yet none will partly with it that I can see. Better late then never my good Lord you think: You use square dealing, Medina's mighty Duke: Tyrant of France, sent hither by the devil. She ascends the Scaffold. Servant low as my destiny I kneel to thee, To Sago. Honouring in death, thy manly loyalty: And what so ever become of my poor soul, The joys of both world's evermore be thine. Commend me to the Noble Count Guiaca, That should have shared thy valour, and my hatred: Tell him I pray his pardon, and Medina, art yet inspired from heaven, Show thy Creators Image: be Like him, Father of mercy. Now God lay all thy sins upon thy head, And sink thee with them, to infernal darkness, Thou teacher of the furies cruelty. He is mine enemy, his sighed torments me, I shall not die in quiet. Takest thou delight, to torture misery? Such mercy find thou in the day of doom. Holy Sir: so far you are gone from my memory, I must take truce with time, ere I can know you. Oh my offended Lord lift up your eyes: But yet avert them from my loathed sighed. Had I with you enjoyed the lawful pleasure, To which belongs, nor fear, nor public shame: I might have lived in honour, died in fame. Your pardon on my faltering knees I beg: Which shall confirm more peace unto my death, Then all the graven instructions of the Church. Yes and give him too, what must I do my friend? Oh heavens that I was born to be hates slave, The food of Rumor, that devour's my fame; I am called Insatiate Countess lustest paramour A glorious Devil, and the noble whore, I am sick, vexed, and tormented, Oh revenge. Thou art joust: Revenge to me is sweeter now then lust. Out screechowl messenger of my revenges death Thou dost belie Guiaca it's not so. Thy honesty? thou vassal to my pleasure take that Strike her. Darest thou control me, when I say no? Art not my footstool, did not I create thee? And made thee gentle, being born a beggar: Thou hast been my woman's Pandar for a crown, And dost thou stand upon thy honesty? I have my humour, though they now be false, Fainthearted coward get thee from my sighed, When villain? hast, and come not never me. Perfidious cowards, stain of Nobility, Venetians, and be reconciled with words: Oh that I had Guiaca once more here, Within this prison, made of flesh and bone, I'de not trust Thunder with my fell revenge, But mine own hands, should do the dire exploit, And fame should Chronicle a woman's acts My rage respects the persons not the facts. There place and worths hath power to defame me, Mean hate is stingless, and does only name me: I not regard it, it's high blood that swells, Give me revenge, and damn me into hels, A gallant Spaniard, I will hear him speak, Grief must be speechless, ere the heart can break. Revenge not, Pleasure now overrules my blood, Rage shall drown faint love in a crimson flood, And were he caught, I'de make him murders hand. He comes to speak: he's mine, by love he is mine. Sir, your intrusion yet's but courtesy, Unless your future humour altar it. You are a stranger to this land and me, What madness is't for me to trust you then? To cousin women is a trade amongst men, Smooth promises faint passion with a lie, Deceives our sex of fame and chastity: What danger durst you hazard for my love? I not suspect your valour, but your will. Perform your promise, and enjoy your pleasure, Spend my loves Dowry, that is women's treasure: But if thy resolution dread the trial, I'll tell the world, a Spaniard was disloyal. What place is this? Oh these golden nets, That have insnar'd so many wanton youths, Not one but ha been held a thread of life, And superstitiously depended on, Now to the block, we must veil: what else? I have lived too long in darkness my friend: And yet mine eyes with their maiesticque light, Have God new Muses, in a Poets spright. They have been more gazed at then the God of Day: Their brightness never could be flattered, Yet thou commandest a fixed cloud of Lawn, To Eclipse eternally these minutes of light. What else? We will be for thee straight. Give me your blessing my Lord Cardinal: Lord, I am well prepared: Murder and lust, down with my ashes sink. But Like ingrateful seed perish in earth, That you may never spring against my soul, Like weeds to choke it in the heavenly harvest, I fallen to rise, mount to thy maker, spirit, Leave here thy body, death ha her demerit. Strike. My Lord, with you I have some conference. I pray my Lord, do you woo every Lady In this phrase you do me? Change is no robbery: yet in this change Thou robbest me of my heart, sure Cupid's here, Disguised Like a pretty Torchbearer, And makes his brand a Torch, that with more sleight He may entrap weak women: here the sparks Fly as in Etna from his Father's Anvil. Oh powerful Boy! my heart's on fire, and unto mine eyes The raging flames ascend, Like to two Beacons, Summoning my strongest powers, but all too late, The Conqueror already opens the gate. I will not ask his name. Sir, though women do not woo, yet for your sake, I am content to leave that civil custom, And pray you kiss me. There needs no pardon, where there's no offence; His tongue strikes Music ravishing my sense: I must be sudden, else desire confounds me. Dissimulation women's armour is, Aid love belief, and female constancy. O, I am sick my Lord, kind Rogero help me. Fetch Art to keep life, run my Love, I faint: My vital breath runs coldly through my veins, I see lean Death with eyes imaginary, Stand fearfully before me: here my end A wife unconstant, yet thy loving friend. Good my Lord Cardinal do not thunder thus, I sent to day to my Physician And as he say's he finds no sign of death, Would Anna, what are my doors unbarred?