FRANCISCO

Excellent Lady: This day was dedicated to your Honour: One gale of your sweet breath will easily Disperse these Clouds: And, but your self, ther's none That dare speak to him. They wait your Highness pleasure, And when you please to have it. Another Post? Go hang him, hang him I say, I will not interrupt my present pleasures, Although his message should import my Head: Hang him I say. It is of weight, Sir, that makes me thus press Upon your privacies. Your constant friend The Marquisse of Pescara, tired with hast, Would h business that concerns your life and Fortune's, And with speed to impart. Yonder he walks, Full of sad thoughts. To my griese: And if the lose of my poor life could be A Sacrifice, to restore them, as they were, I willingly would lay it down. Sir, I am your Creature: And any shape, that you would have me wear, I gladly will put on. These preparations, Sir, to work a stranger, Or to one, unacquainted with your bounties, Might appear useful: But to me, they are Needless impertinances: For, I dare donc, What ever you dare command. Minister The Oath, in any way, or form you please, I stand resolved to take it. I grant you move me: But to a Man confirmed; As a thing Sacred: To whose fair Name, and memory, I pay gladly These signs of duty. It were a kind of blasphemy to dispute it: But to the purpose Sir. A tumult in the Court? What wind hath raised this tempest? Seuer'em, I command you. What's the cause? Speak Martana. Oh forbear, In me he's present, both in power, and will; And Madam, I much grieve, that in his absence, There should arise the least distaste to move you: It being his principal, nay only charge, To have you in his absence served, and honoured, As when himself performed the willing Office. And therefore, I beseech you Madam, frown not (Till most unwittingly he hath deserved it) On your poor Servant; To your Excellence, I ever was, and will be such: And lay, The Dukes authority, trusted to me, With willingness at your feet. But should I sinde That you are touc'd in any point of Honour, Or that the least neglect is fallen upon you, I then stand up a Prince. I will be partial to none, not to my self, Be you but pleased to show me my offence, Or if you hold me in your good opinion, Name those that have offended you. Remember, she's the Duchess. Were you and Actor, In this lewd Comedy? Think not then, I speak (For I stand bound to honour, and to serve you). But that the Duke, that lives in this great Lady, For the contempt of him, in her, commands you To be close Prisoners. Bear them hence. This is your charge my Lord Tiberio. And Stephano, this is yours. See them well whipped, As you will answer it. There is nothing That can be added to your fair acceptance: That is the prize, indeed: All else, are blanks, And of no valve. As in virtuous actions, The undertaker finds a full reward, Although conferred upon unthankful Men; So, any service done to so much sweetness, (However dangerous, and subject to And ill construction) in your favour finds A wished, and glorious end. Flattery, Madam? You are so rare, and excellent in all rhings, And raised so high upon a Rock of goodness, As that vice cannot reach you: who, but looks on This Temple built by Nature to Perfection, But must bow to it: and out of that zeal, Not only learn to adore it, but to love it. Pardon therefore Madam, If and excess in me of humble duty, Teach me to hope (and though it be not in The power of Man to merit such a blessing) My piety (for it is more than love) May find reward. Be it death, And death with torments, Tyrants never found out: Yet I must say I love you. Farewell circumstance: And since you are not pleased to understand me, But by a plain, and usual form of speech: All superstitious reverence laid by, I love you as a Man, and as a Man I would enjoy you. Why do you start, and fly me? I am no Monster, and you but a Woman: A Woman made to yield, and by example Told it is lawful; Favours of this nature, Are, in our age, no miracles in the greatest: And therefore Lady— Hear my excuse. It's acknowledged Madam, That your whole course of life hath been a pattern For chased, and virtuous Women; In your beauty (Which I first saw, and loved) as a fair Crystal, I read your heavenly mind, clear and untainted; And while the Duke did prize you to your value (Could it have been in Man to pay that duty) I well might envy him, but durst not hope To stop you, in your full career of goodness: But now I find, that he's fallen from his fortune, And (howsoever he would appear doting) Grown cold in his affection: I presume, From his most barbarous neglect of you, To offer my true service: Nor stand I bound, To look back on the courtesies of him, That, of all living Men, is most unthankful, You'll say I am modest, When I have told the Story. Can he tax me (That have received some worldly trifles from him) For being ingrateful? When, he that first tasted, And hath so long enjoyed your sweet embraces (In which, all blessings that our frail condition Is capable of, is wholly comprehended) As cloyed with happiness, contemnes the giver Of his felicity? And, as he reached not, The masterpiece of mischief, which he aims at, Unless he pay those favours he stands bound to, With fell and deadly hate? You think he loves you, With unexampled fervor: Nay, dotes on you, As there were something in you more than Woman: When on my knowledge, he long since hath wished, You were among the dead: And I, you scorn so, Perhaps, am your preserver. Oh Innocence, abused! Simplicity cousen'd! It were a sin, for which we have no name, To keep you longer in this wilful error. Read his affection here; And then observe How deer he holds you; It's his Character, Which cunning yet, could never counterfeit. But I am true, And live to make you happy. All the Pomp, State, and observance you had being his, Compared to what you shall enjoy when mine, Shall be no more remembered. Lose his memory, And look with cheerful beams on your new Creature And know what he hath plotted for you good, Fate cannot altar. If the Emperor, Take not his life, at his return he die, And by my Hand: My Wife, that is his Heir, Shall quickly follow; Then we Reign alone, For with this Arm I'll swim through Seas of blood, Or make a Bridge, arched with the bones of Men, But I will grasp my aims in you my dearest, Dearest, and best of Women. Thou then art nothing: Thy life is in my power, disdainful Woman: Think on't, and tremble. I am lost, In the discovery of this fatal secret. Cursed hope that flattered me, that wrongs could make her A stranger to her goodness; All my plots Turn back upon mv self; But I am in, And must go on: And since I have put off From the Shore of Innocence, gilded be now my Pilot. Revenge first wrought me, Murder's his Twin-brother, One deadly sin then help to cure another. If I am sought for, Say I am indisposed, and will not hear, Or suits, or suitors. Say, I am rid Abroad to take the air, but by no means Let her know I am in Court. Within there, Ladies. Prethe let me beg thy favour for access To the Duchess. Come ther's gold to buy thee A new gown, and a rich one. This will tempt me, Pox on thy maidenhead, Where is thy Lady? Bring me to her. Prethe leave fooling, My page waits in the lobby, give him sweet meats, He is trained up for his Master's ease, And he will cool thee. Dear Lady, Great in your fortune, greater in your goodness, Make a superlative of excellence, In being greatest in your saving mercy. I do confess, humbly confess my fault, To be beyond all pity; my attempt, So barberously rude, that it would turn A saintlike patience, into savage fury: But you that are all innocence and virtue, No spleen or anger in you of a woman, But when a holy zeal to piety fires you, May, if you please, impute the fault to love, Or call it beastly lust, for it's no better A sin, a monstrous sin, yet with it, many That did prove good men after, have been to ̄ pted, And though I am crooked now, it's in your pour To make me straight again. But if no submission, Nor prayers can appease you, that you may know, It's not the fear of death that makes me sue thus, But a loathed detestation of my madness, Which makes me wish to live to have your pardon. I will not wait the sentence of the Duke (Since his return is doubtful) but I my self Will do a fearful justice on my self, No witness by but you, there being no more When I offended: yet before I do it, For I perceive in you no signs of mercy, I will disclose a secret, which dying with me, May prove your ruin. Thus then Madam, The warrant by my Lord signed for your death, Was but conditional, but you must swear By your unspotted truth, not to reveal it, Or I end here abruptly. Nor was it hate That forced him to it, but excess of love, And if I ever return, so said great Sforza, No living man deserving to enjoy My best Marcelia. With the first news That I am dead, for no man after me Might ever enjoy her, but till certain proof Assure thee I am lost (these were his words) Fail not to kill her Observe and honour her as if the seal Of woman's goodness only dwelled in hers. This trust I have abused and basely wronged, And if the excelling pity of your mind Cannot forgive it, as I dare not hope it, Rather then look on my offended Lord, I stand resolved to punish it. But if your entertainment Should give the least ground to his jealousy, To raise up and opinion I am false, You then destroy your mercy. Therefore Madam (Though I shall ever look on you as on My lives preserver, and the miracle Of human pity) would you but vouchsafe, In company to do me those fair graces And favors which your innocence and honour May safely warrant, it would to the Duke (I being to your best self alone known guilty) Make me appear most innocent. It is enough, Shout, and Floursh Nay all I could desire, and will make way To my revenge, which shall disperse it self On him, on her, and all. And is it possible thou shouldst forget A wrong of such a nature, and then study My safety and content? Well observed. Put on, we'll be familiar, and discourse A little of this argument. That day, In which it was first rumoured, then confirmed, Great Sforza thought me worthy of his favour, I found my self to be another thing, Not what I was before. I passed then For a Pretty fellow, and of Pretty parts too, And was perhaps received so: but once raised, The liberal Courtier made me Master of Those virtues, which I never knew in my self. If I pretended to a jest, 'twas made one By their interpretation. If I offered To reason of Philosophy, though absurdly, They had helps to save me, and without a blush Would swear, that I by nature had more knowledge, Then others could acquire by any labour. Nay all I did indeed, which in another Was not remarkable, in me showed rarely. True, They gave me those good parts I was not born too, And by my intercession they God that, Which (had I crossed them) they durst not have hoped for But to the purpose, And then that service done, make thine own Fortune's. My wife thou sayest, is jealous, I am too Famillar with the Duchess. I thank thy care, and will deserve this secret, In making thee acquainted with a greater, And of more moment. Come into my bosom, And take it from me. Canst thou think, dull Graccho, My power, and honours, were conferred upon me, And and to them this form, to have my pleasures Confined and limited? I delight in change, And sweet variety, that's my heaven on earth, For which I love life only. I confess, My wife pleased me a day, the Duchess, two, (And yet I must not say, I have enjoyed her) But now I care for neither. Therefore Graccho, So far I am from stopping Mariana In making her complaint, that I desire thee To urge her to it. There thou art cozened, His dotage Like and ague keeps his course, And now it's strongly on him. But I lose time, And therefore know, whither thou wilt or no, Thou art to be my instrument, and in spite Of the old saw, that says, it is not safe On any terms to trust a man that's wronged, I dare thee to be false. You thought, sirrah, To put a trick on me for the relation Of what I knew before, and having won Some weighty secret from me, in revenge To play the traitor. Know thou wretched thing, By my command thou Wertenberg whipped, & every day I'll have thee freshly tortured, if thou miss In the lest charge that I impose upon thee, Though what I speak, for the most partly is true. Nay, grant thou hadst a thousand witnesses To be deposed they herd it, it's in me With one word (such is Sforza's confidence Of my fidelity not to be shaken) To make all void, and ruin my accusers. Therefore look to't, bring my wife hotly on T'accuse me to the Duke (I have and end in't) Or think, what it's makes man most miserable, And that shall fallen upon thee. Thou Wertenberg a fool To hope by being acquainted with my courses To curb and awe me, or that I should live Thy slave, as thou didst saucily divine. For prying in my counsels, still live mine. Oh best Madam, They are not counterfeit. I your poor convert, That only wish to live in sad repentance, To mourn my desperate attempt of you, That have no ends, nor aims, but that your goodness Might be a witness of my penitence, Which seen would teach you, how to love your mercy, Am robbed of that last hope. The Duke, the Duke, I more then fear, hath found, that I am guilty. Yet, malice Is Eagle-eyed, and would see that which is not. And Jealousy's too apt to built upon Unsure foundations. It takes. Whither grounded on Your noble, yet chased favors shown unto me, Or her imprisonment, for her contempt To you, by my command, my frantic wife Hath put it in his head. May I be blasted When I prove such a monster. So, let it work, her goodness, that denied, My service branded with the name of Lust, Shall now destroy it self. And she shall find, When he's a suitor, that brings Cunning armed With power to be his advocates, the denial Is a disease as killing as the plague, And chastity a clew, that leads to death. Hold but thy nature, Duke, and be but rash, And violent enough, and then at leisure Repent. I care not. And let my plots produce this long'd-for birth, In my revenge I have my heaven on earth. On thy life Provide my horses, and without the Port With care attend me. Great Sir. I would impart, Please you to lend your care, a weighty-secret, I am in labour to deliver to you. Comfort? No, your torment, For so my fate appoints me, I could curse The hour that gave me being. Draw your sword then, And as you wish your own peace, quickly kill me, Consider not, but do it. Or if to take my life be too much mercy, As death indeed concludes all human sorrows, Cut off my nose and ears, pull out and eye, The other only left to lend me light To see my own deformities: Why was I born Without some mulct imposed on me by nature? Would from my youth a loathsome leprosy Had run upon this face, or that my breath Had been infectious and so made me shunned Of all societies: cursed be he that taught me Discource or manners, or lent any grace That makes the owner pleasing in the eye Of wanton women, since those parts which others Valve as blessings, are to me afflictions, Such my condition is. That I alone (you, Of all mankind that stand most bound to love And study your content should be appointed, Not by my will, but source by cruel fate To be your greatest enemy, not to hold you In this amazement longer, in a word, Your Duchess loves me. Is mad for me, Pursues me hourly: And from hence grew Her late neglect of you. I laboured, to divert her by persuasion, Then urged your much love to her, & the danger, Deny worser her, and with scorn. But when I saw her smile, then herd her say, Your love and extreme dotage as a Cloak Should cover our embraces, and your power Fright others from suspicion, and all favours That should preserve her in her innocence, By lust inverted to be used as bawds, I could not but in duty (though I know That the relation kills in you all hope Of peace hereafter, and in me it'll show Both base and poor to rise up her accuser) Freely discover it. Yet great Sir, Exceed not in your fury, she's yet guilty Only in her intent. You are wise, And know what's best to do, yet if you please To prove her temper to the height, say only That I am dead, and then observe how far She'll be transported. I'll remove a little, But be within your call: now to the upshot, How ever I'll shift for one. Why couldst thou think Eugenia that rewards, Graces, or favours though strewed thick upon me Could ever bribe me to forget mine honour? Or that I tamely would fit down, before I had dried these eyes still wet with showers of tears By the fue of my revenge? Look up my dearest For that proud-fair that thief-like stepped between Thy promised Hope's, and robbed thee of a fortune Almost in thy possession, hath found With horrid proof, his love she thought her And assurance of all happiness, (glory But hastened her sad ruin. Such indeed I grant The stream of his affection was, and ran A constant course, till I with cunning malice (And yet I wrong my act, for it was Justice) Made it turn backwards, and hate in extremes Love banished from his heart to fill the room, In a word, know the fair Marcelia's dead. And by Sforza's hand, do's it not move you? How coldly you receive it? I expected The mere relation of so great a blessing Born proudly on the wings of sweet revenge Would have called on a sacrifice of thanks, And joy not to be bounded or concealed! You entertain it with a look, as if You wished it were undone! Have you then no gall, Anger, or spleen familiar to your sex? Or is it possible that you could see Another to possess what was your endue, And not grow pale with envy? The reason sister Of this strange metamorphosis? Still mine own, and dearer, And yet in this you but pour oil on fire, And offer your assistance where it needs not, And that you may perceive I lay not fallow, But had your wrongs stamped deeply on my heart By the Iron pen of vengeance, I attempted By whoring her to cuckold him, that failing I did begin his tragedy in her death, To which it served as Prologue, and will make A memorable story of your Fortune's In my assured revenge, only best sister Let us not lose our selves in the performance, By your rash undertaking, we will be As sudden as you could wish. Thy purpose? Bring him to me, Though he hath laid and ambush for my life, Or apprehension, yet I will prevent him And work mine own ends out. Now my good Graccho, We meet as 'twere by miracle! This I expected, But sure you come provided of good counsel To help in my extremes. How? hurt me? Such another word's thy death, Why darest thou think it can fallen in thy will, Outlive what I determine? Be brief, what brought thee hither? Very good. 'Twould show nobly, But that the honour of our full revenge Were lost in the rash Actium: No Eugenia, Graccho is wise, my friend to, not my servant, And I dare trust him with my latest secret. We would (and thou must help us to perform it) First kill the Duke, then fallen what can upon us, For injuries are writ in brass, kind Graccho. And not to be forgotten. What's that? I told you. Speak my oraculous Graccho, But what infer you from it? And not to be discovered? By thee? Alas I know thee honest Graccho, And I will put thy counsel into act, And suddenly. Yet not to be ungrateful For all thy loving travel to preserve me, What bloody end soever my stars appoint, Thou shalt be safe good Graccho. Who's within there? Take my friend Into your custody, and bind him fast, I would not partly with him. Dispatch, It's for your good to keep you honest Graccho, I would not have ten thousand Ducats tempt you (Being of a soft and wax Like disposition) To play the traitor, nor a foolish itch To be revenged for your late excellent whipping Give you the opportunity to offer My head for satisfaction. Why thou fool, I can look through, & through thee, thy intents Appear to me as written in thy forehead In plain and easy characters. And but that I scorn a slaves base blood should rust that sword That from a Prince expects a scarlet die, Thou now Wertenberg dead, but live only to pray For good success to crown my undertakings, And then at my return perhaps I'll free thee To make me further sport. Away with him, I will not hear a sillable. We must trust Our selves Eugenia, and though we make use of The counsel of our servants, that oil spent, Like snuffs that do offend we tread them out. But now to our last Scene, which we'll so carry, That few shall understand how 'twas begun, Till all with half and eye may see it's done. I am no God sir. To give a new life to her, yet I'll hazard My head, I'll work the senseless trunket' appear To him as it had God a second being, Or that the soul that's fled from't were called back, To govern it again, I will preserve it In the first sweetness, and by a strange vaper Which I'll infule into her mouth, create A seeming breath, I'll make her veins run high to As if they had true motion. The art I use Admits no looker on, I only ask The sourth partly of and hour to perfect that I boldly undertake. 'Tis my purpose I that to fallen a long wished sacrifice To my revenge can be a be efit. I'll first make fast the doors, so. A full conclusion Of all thy wishes, look on this Eugenia, Even such a thing, the saire on earth (For whose delight the elements are ransacked And art with nature studies to preserve her, Must be when she is summoned to appear In the Court of death, but I lose time. Disturb me not, your Ladyship looks pale But I, your Docter, have a ceruse for you, See my Eugenia, how many faces That are adored in Court borrow these helps, And pass for excellence, when the bettet partly Of them are Like to this, your mouth smells sour to, But here is that shall take away the sent, A precious antidote old Ladies use When they would kiss, knowing their gums are rotten: These hands to, that disdaind' to take a touch From any lip, whose honour ri to Lord Are now but as the coursest Can h ut I Am at the charge my bill not to be paid to To give them seeming b a y, so 'tis done How do you Like my workmanship? Come we for revenge, And can we think on pity? now to the vpshott, And as it proves applaud it. My lord the Duke Enter with joy, and see the sudden chance Your servants hand hath wrought. No, You must not look for all your joys at once, That will ask longer time. Graccho! then we are lost. Spare thy labour fool, Francisco. Give me all attributes Of all you can imagine, yet I glory To be the thing I was born, I am Francisco, Francisco that was raised by you, And made the Minion of the time The same Francisco, That would have whored this trunk when it had life, And after breathed a icalousie upon thee As killing as those damps that belch out plagues, When the foundation of the earth is shaken; I made thee do a deed heaven will not pardon Which was to kill and innocent. I dare the worst, Only to yield some reason to the world Why I pursud' this course, look on this face Made old by thy base falsehood, it's Eugenia. Do's it start you Sir? my Sister, Seduced and fooled by thee, but thou must pay The forfeit of thy falsehood, do's it not work yet? What ere becomes of me (which I esteem not) Thou art marked for the graven, I have given thee poison In this cup, now observe me, with thy last Carousing deeply of, made thee forget Thy vowed, faith to Eugenia. Farewell sister, Now I have kept my word, torments I scorn, I leave the world with glory, they are men And leave behind them name and memory, That wronged do right themselves before they die. 'Tis done to the Duke, And not to her. And my sweet wife remember, And Madam, if you please receive my council, As Sforza is your son, you may command him, And as a sister you may challenge from him, A brother's love, and Favour: But this granted, Consider he's the Prince, and you, his Subjects And not to question, or contend with her, Whom he is pleased to honour; Private men Prefer their wives: and shall he being a Prince, And blessed with one that is the Paradise Of sweetness, and of beauty, to whose charge, The stock of women's goodness is given up, Not use her, Like her self? I detract from none, In giving her, wha'ts endue. Were she defor'md, Yet being the Duchess, I stand bound to serve her, But as she is, to admire her. Never wife, Met with a purer heat her husbands ferver; A happy pair, one in the other blessed: She confident in her self, he's wholly hers, And cannot seek for change: and he secure That 'tis not in the power of man to tempt her. And therefore, to contest with her that is The stronger, and the better partly of him, Is more then folly; You know him of a nature, Not to be played with: and should you forget To 'obey him as your Prince, he'll not remember, The duty that he owes you. Yet be wise, Soar not too high to fallen, but stoop to rise. She's indeed The wonder of all times. Murdered? She that loves so, And so deserves to be beloved again? And I, (who sometime you were pleased to favour) Picked out the instrument? How his Hand shakes, As he receives it? Now I find the end Of all your conjurations: there's some service To be done for this sweet Lady; If she have enemies That she would have removed? It's not fear Of death, but love to you, makes me embrace it; But for mine own security when it's done, What warrant have I? If you please to sign one, I shall, though with unwillingness and horror, Perform your dreadful charge. It's a Character I will not partly with. Pray you do so. What have I done? Madam, for Heavens sake, Madam. Oh my Fate! I'll bend her body: This is yet some pleasure, I'll kiss her into a new life. Dear Lady: She stirs: For the Dukes sake for Sforza's sake. Let them first know themselves, & how you are To be served, and honoured: Which, when they confess, You may again receive them to your favour: And then it will show nobly. Beware.