INFELICE

Dear son (for my love Bids me make use of Nature's privilege, And leave out other titles) I have joys Greater within me, than those weak ones, which Only take life from the expression, And quickly die, the object once removed. Yet give me leave to temper them with mixture Of some sad thoughts, lest their excess may grow Into a danger, and a little taste Of contrarieties will whet the sense With a fresh appetite, preventing surfeits. My comforts swell, Like a full tide, to see Thy growing state propped up with such advantages, As show it unto all men's expectations Int's future flourishing: A Counsel grave And wise as ever ordered policy From the best unresisted principles: Men, whose designs set down the acts success As positive as Oracles. Thy Spurio, Thy almost self; a man so rich in soul, And all her best dependencies, he gives Honour to greatness, by the noblest g Of a Court-favourites power, that ever yet Deserved a record. Next to him, thy Champion, His valiant brother; one, upon whose Plumes Victory dances as they far e the air, Whispering the voice of Triumph. Thou art guarded With such a general loyalty in Subject's, That if thou sleptest amongst the multitude, Even when some rage possessed them, undescended With any Arms but that, the imperfect slumber Needs not be broken with a fear. Macario, These tears are tears of joy: and yet I cannot Choose but reflect upon those times that gave me the embraces of thy Noble Father. We'll hear you straight Corvino. Fie Amanda, Have all your seeming virtues lost themselves In one foul stain? Enough Cardente. But let not such things be your sport hereafter. Jealousy is a spirit which once raised, Will hardly be commanded down again; And honour is a substance too too nice To play withal U ge no more; You are believed Amanda. Now my Lord (To Corvino. We give you hearing. My Lord Corvino you have honoured me In your opinion; putting such a gloss On my defects, that I appear more worthy Then really I am. My age is subject To those decays, that render the unfit For a morous delights. Dear valiant Notho, now you have put off The rough abiliments of War, pray wear These ornaments for my sake. Gives him jewels. Your deserts require Give Vitt. and Polem. Jewels. Some endue acknowledgement. What's this horror Presents it self? Is't real or illusive? My Spurio, Notho, dead! let my soul flight To meet yours in the peaceful shades of rest. Sownes, Give me more fresh air, That I may draw it freely in to increase My sighs; not to preserve the breath that keeps The different parts united. What sad influence Ordered this Tragic Actium? or what motives Could teach them to direct it to this end? This most unnatural end— How weak is counsel To desperate frailty? it's not your Art can Persuade me to a comfort, being lost To all that should revive it. In these two Were lodged such a proportion of My living joys, in their cold earth remains All my Hope's dead and frozen, unto which They while they lived gave life. If there were virtue In tears to warm your numbed and bloodless limbs, Into new life and motion, I would both them With a large flood: and when the springs were dry Wish my self changed into a weeping marble To be your monument. I am happy in my unhappiness, that time hath left me A husband still; thy Father's memory Preserved in thee my Son: I know no widowhood While wedded unto that. AManda you look sickly, you were wont To wear a lovely blush upon your cheek, Such as no Art can counterfeit: your eyes Were the Court Stars, at which the amorous gallants Lighted their flames: who but Amanda famed For beauty, and a liveliness of spirit; Your colour's earthy now, your mind unactive: Nor can such accidents without a cause Show their effects. I wish it were communicated. Unto our knowledge. I believe they are Some passion rather. So, so; Be lightsome still. Is she in love Cardente? They are wags Cardente, But for your mirth Amanda it's affected; Your soul I do believe retains its sadness, Reveal it, and i'll aid thee in the cure. Enough Amanda, Yet still I must suspect; when you're alone To Carded. privately. Perhaps she will reveal it. Exit. Withdraw Cardente. (The Ladies retire. This love hath taught you The long neglected practice of your Courtship: Forbear it, good my Lord, my griefs are yet Unapt for flattery. Your faithful servines Have been rewarded with degrees of honour, And I expect your gratitude. I never Discovered such ambition in your temper, Which always seemed to level its just aim At fair equality. Then good my Lord Consider your attempts, and how they make Your virtues much suspected. Do not Add to your ills Corvino. This had sense As if it did imply you would not owe A Duty to me now: or that you meant Some treacherous discovery. Take heed Of base ingratitude, 'twil slain your fame (which good men call their life) with such a Leprosy, As time can never cleanse it from. Yes for a husband. I must prepare for heaven: Nor shall I ever Admit of new desires while the loved memory Of my dead Lord presents it self. Not without The free election of my son, who now Leaves it to time and counsel. Thus you still Show your ambition. Dearest Spurio welcome, The third Seen Enter Spurio. Let us go take the air. When it's ended Attend us in the garden. Exeunt Infe. Carded. Amam. Vain advice, My griefs are Like to Walls resisting Darts, They'll beat thy counsels back to thy own danger. Corvino you were surely false, and taught The youths this way to ruin. One more sighs Will crack my hearts weak cordage, and the vessel Wanting its helps, yield to the only guidance Of the distracted waves till it be swallowed. I thought my patience could have met with cheerfulness, Any cross storm of fortune; this hath killed it. Forgive me Heaven, translate my penitent And reconciled soul to a better mansion Then that she's lodged in now. Divide my heart You two. Corvino bear my dying blessings Unto Macario —O— Dies.