TANCRED

Fair daughter, I have sought thee out with g iefe, To ease the sorrows of thy vexed heart. How long wilt thou torment thy father thus? Who daily die to see thy needles tears, such bootless plaints that know nor mean nor end but increase the floods of thy lament, And since the world knows well there e was no want In thee, of ought that did to him belong Yet all thou seest could not his life prolong. Why the ̄ dost thou provoke the heavens to wrath? His doom of death was dated by his stars, "And who is he that may withstand his fate? By these complaints small good to him thou dost, Much grief to me, most hurtvnto thy self, And unto Nature greatest wrong of all. My daughter knows the proof of nature's course "For as the heavens do guide the lamp of life "So can they search no further forth the flame, "Then while with oil they do maintain the same. Gismund my joy, set all these griefs apart, "The more thou art with hard mishap beset, "The more thy patience should procure thine ease. What then avails thee fruitless thus to rue His absence whom the heavens cannot return: Impartial death thy husband did subdue, Yet hath he spared thy kingly father's life: Who during life, to thee a double stay, As father, and as husband will remain, With doubled love to ease thy widows want. Ofhim whose want is cause ofthy complaint, Forbear thou all these needless tears, That nip the blossoms of thy beauty's pride. She that hath learned to master her desires. "Let reason work that time does easily srame "In meanest wits: to bear the greatest illes. what of her? Is she notwell? Enjoys she not her health? Say sister, ease me of this jealous fear? Sister I say. If you esteem, or ought respect my life, Her honour, and the welfare of our house, Forbear, and wade no further in this speech. Your words, are wounds, I very well perceive, The purpose of this smooth oration: This I suspected, when you first began, This fair discourse with us: Is this the end Of all our Hope's, that we have promised Unto ourself, by this her widowhood? Would our deer daughter, would our only joy, Would she f sake us? would she leave us now? Before she hath closed up, our dying eyes, And with her tears, bewailed our funeral? No other solace, does her father crave, But while the fates, maintain his dying life, Her healthful presence, gladsome to his soul, Which rather then he willing would forgo, His heart desires, the bitter taste of death: Her late marriage, hath taught us to our grief, That in the fruits, of her perpetual sighed Consists the only comfort and relief, Of our unwieldy age: for what delight What joy? what comfort? have we in this world, Now grown in years, and overworn with cares, Subject unto the sudden stroke of death, Already falling Like the mellowed fruit, And dropping by degrees into our graven. But what revives us? what maintains oursoule Within the prison of our withered breast? But our Gismunda and her cheerful sighed. Oh daughter, daughter, what desert of mine, Wherein have I been so unkind to thee? Thou shouldst desire to make my naked house Yet once again stand desolate by thee? Oh let such fancies vanish with their thoughts, Tell her I am her father, whose estate, Wealth, honour, life, and all that we possess, Wholly relies upon her presence here. Tell her I must account her all my joy, Work as she will: But yet the were unjust, To haste his death that lives by her fight He charges justly that commands as king. My daughter die, see how the bitter pangs Of tyrannous death, torments her princely heart, She looks on me, at me she shakes her head, For me she groans, by me my daughter die, I, I, the author of this Tragedy. On me, on me, ye down your Now my daughter, with O fair in life, thrice fairer in death, Dear to thy father in thy life thou Wertenberg, But in thy death, dearest unto his heart, I kiss thy paled cheeks, and close thine eyes, This duty once I promised to my self, Thou shouldst perform to me, but ah false hope Now ruthful wretched king what rests thee? Wilt thou now live wasted with misery? Wilt thou now live that with these eyes didst see Thy daughter dead? wilt thou now live to see Her funerals, that of thy life was stay? Wilt thou now live that wast her lives decay? Shall not this hand reach to this heart the stroke Mine arms are not so weak, nor are my limbs So feebled with mine age, nor is my heart So daunted with the dread of cowardice, But I can wreak endue vengeance on that head That wrought the means these lovers now be dead Julio come near, and lay thine own right hand Upon my thigh, now take thine oath of me. But reason says thou shoulds the same subdue. In endless mones Princes should n to delight. And so continues poor and desolate. These solitary walks thou do st frequent, Yield fresh occasions to thy secret mones: We will therefore thou keep us company, Leaving thy maidens with their harmony. Weened thou with us, virgins withdraw your selves. Resolve me? what afflicts my daughter so, Then let her not give place to these desires. Tell her the king commandeth otherwise. What ere it be the kings command is joust. The king commands obedience of the mind. That law of kind to children does belong. I then, as king and father, will command. Thou knowest our mind, resolve her, depart, Return the chase, we have been chaced nough. GOds are you guides of justice and revenge? Oh thou great Thunderer, dost thou be hold With watchful eyes the subtle escapes of men Hardened in shame, seared up in the desire Of their own lusts: why then dost thou withhold The blast of thy revenge? why dost thou grant Such lively breath, such lewd occasion To execute their shameless villainy? Thou, thou art cause of all this open wrong, Thou that forbear'st thy vengeance all too long, If thou spare them rain then upon my head The fullness of thy plagues with deadly ire, To reave this ruthful soul, who all too soar Burns in the wrathful torments of revenge. Oh earth the mother of each living wight, Open thy womb, devour this withered corpse, And thou Oh hell, (if other hell there be Then that I feel) receive my soul to thee. Oh daughter, daughter, wherefore do I grace Her with so kind a name? Oh thou found girl, The shameful ruin of thy father's house, Is this my hoped joy? is this the stay Must glad my griefe-ful years that wast away? For life which first thou didst receive from me, Ten thousand death's shall I receive by thee? For all the joys I did repose in thee, Which I (found man) did settle in thy sighed, Is this my recompense? that I must see The thing so shameful, and so villainous, That would to God this earth had swallowed This worthless burden into lowest deeps, Rather then I (accursed) had beheld The sighed that hourly massacars my life. Oh whither, whither fliest thou forth my soul? Oh whither wanders my tormented mind? Those pains that make the miser glad of death Have c az'd on me, and yet I cannot have What villains may command, a speedy death. Whom shall I first accuse for this outrage? That God that guideth all, and guideth so This damned deed. Shall I blaspheme their names? The gods the authors of this spectacle: Or shall I justly curse that cruel star Whose influence assigned this destiny? But nay, that traitor, shall that vile wretch live By whom I have received this injury? Or shall I longer make account of her That fondly prostitutes her widows shame? I have bethought me what I shall request. Renuchio. Call my daughter: my heart boils till I see Her in my sighed, to whom I may discharge All the unrest that thus distempereth me. Should I destroy them both? Oh gods you know How near and deer our daughter is to us. And yet my rage persuades me to imbrue My thirsty hands in both their trembling bloods, Therewith to cool my wrathful furies heat. But Nature, why repinest thou at this thought? Why should I think upon a father's debt To her that thought not on a daughters endue? But still me thinks if I should see her die, And therewithal reflex her dying eyes Upon mine eyes, that sighed would slit my heart. Not much unlike the Cockatrice, that slays The object of his foul infections. O what a conflict does my mind endure? Now fight my thoughts against my passion: Now strive my passion against my thoughts. Now sweats my heart, now chil cold falls it dead. Help heavens, and succour you Celestial powers, Infuse your secret virtue on my soul. Shall nature win? shall justice not prevail? Shall I (a king) be proved partial? "How shall our Subjects then insult on us, "When our examples (that are light to them) "Shall be eclipsed with our proper deeds? And may the arms be rented from the tree? The members from the body be dissevered? And can the heart endure no violence? My daughter is to me mine only heart, My life, my comfort, my continuance, Shall I be then not only so unkind To pass all nature's strength, and cut her off. But therewithal so cruel to my self, Against all law of kind to shred in twain The golden thread that does us both maintain. But were it that my rage should so command, And I consent to her untimely death, Were this and end to all our Misery's? No, no, her ghost will still pursue our life. And from the deep her bloodless gastfull spirit Will as my shadow in the shining day, Follow my footsteps till she take revenge. I will do thus therefore: the traitor die, Because he scorned the favour of his king, And our displeasure wilfully incurde: His slaughter, with her sorrow for his blood, Shall to our rage supply delightful food. Julio, if we have not our hope in vain, Nor all the trust we do repose in thee: Now must we try if thou approve the same. Herein thy force and wisdom we must see, For our command requires them both of thee. Well, to be short (for I am grieved too long By wrath without revenge) I think you know Whilom a Palace built strong For war, within our Court, where dreadless peace Hath planted now a weaker entrance. But of that palace yet one vault remains, Within our Court, the secret way whereof Is to our daughter Gismunds chamber laid: There is also another mouth hereof, Without our wall: which now is overgrown, But you may find it out, for yet it lies Directly South a furlong from our place: It may be known, hard by and ancient stoop, Where grew and Oak in elder days decaide, There will we that you watch, there shall you see A villain traitor mount out of a vault: Bring him to us, it is earl Palurin, What is his fault neither shall you inquire, Nor list we to disclose, these cursed eyes Have seen the flame, this heart hath felt the fire That cannot else be quenched but with his blood. This must be done: this will we have you do. Darest thou so desperate decree thy death. Thy kind abhorreth such unkindly thoughts. As I do unto thee. Have I then lost thy love? Thy love. Be gone. Return unto thy chamber. Julio we thank your pains. Ah Palurin, Have we deserved in such traitorous sort Thou shouldst abuse our kingly courtesies, Which we too long in favour have bestowed Upon thy false-dissembling heart with us. What grief thou therewithal hast thrown on us What shame upon a house, what dire distress, Our soul endures, cannot be uttered. And durst thou villain dare to undermine Our daughters chamber, durst thy shameless face Be bold to kiss her: th'rest we will conceal. Suffices that thou knowest I too well know All thy proceedings in thy private shames. Herin what hast thou won? thine own content, With the displeasure of thy Lord and king. The thought whereof if thou hadst had in mind The least remorse of love and loyalty Might have restrained thee from so foul a fact. But Palurin, what may I deem of thee, Whom neither fear of gods, nor love of him (Whose Princely favour hath been thine uprear) Could quench the fuel of thy lewd desires. Wherefore content thee that we are resolved (And therefore laid to snare thee with this bait) That thy joust death, with thine effused blood, Shall cool the heat and choler of our mood. Thine Palurin, what, lives my daughter thine? Traitor thou wrongest me, for she lives mine. Rather I wish ten thousand sundry death's, Then I to live and see my daughter thine. Thine, that is dearer then my life to me? Thine, whom I hope to see and Empress? Thine, whom I cannot pardon from my sighed? Thine, unto whom we have bequeathed our crown? Julio, we will that thou inform from us Renuchio the Captain of our Guard, That we command this traitor be conveyed Into the dungeon underneath our Tower, There let him rest until he be resolved What further we intend, which to understand, We will Renuchio repair to us. "This is the soundest safety for a king "To cut them off that vex or hinder him. Have we been honoured by this leachers lust? Our fortune says we must do what we may. And may the Subject countermand the king? What he shall decree. 'Tis I thy father, ah behold my tears Like pearled dew that trickle down my cheeks, To wash my silver hairs. O my sweetheart, hast thou received thy life From me, and wilt thou to requite the same, Yield me my death? yea death and greater grief To see thee die for him that did defame Thine honour thus, my kingdom, and thy name. First then I charge thee that my daughter have Her last request, thou shalt within one tomb Inter her Earl and her: and thereupon Engrave some Royal Epitaph ofloue. That done, I swear thee thou shalt take my corpse Which thou shalt find by that time done to death, And lay my body by my daughters side. Swear this, swear this I say. A kingly deed the king resolves to do. To send his soul to ease. Our stars continued ̄ pell it. So we So shall it in this resolution. ulio sorbeare, and as thou love the king, When thou shalt sec him weltering in his gore, Stretching his limbs, and gasping in his groans Then Julio set to thy helping hand, Redouble stroke on stroke, and driven the stab Down deeper to his heart, to rid his soul. Now stand aside, stir not a foot, least thou Make up the fourth to fill this Tragedy. These eyes that first beheld my daughters shame, These eyes that longed for the ruthful sighed Of her Earls heart, these eyes that now have seen His death, her woe, and her avenging teen: Upon these eyes we must be first avenged. Unworthy lamps of this accursed lump, Out of your dwellings: so, it fits us thus In blood and blindness to go seek the path That leads down to everlasting night. Why frighst thou dastard? be thou desperate, One mischief brings another on his neck, As mighty billows tumble in the seas. Now daughter, seest thou not how I amerce My wrath that thus bereft thee of thy love, Upon my head? now father's learn by me, Be wise, be warnde to use more tenderly The jewels of your joys. Daughter, I come. Uncouple all our hounds: Lords to the chase: Fair sister Lucre, what's the news with you? WHere is my daughter? Aim, break heart, & thou fly forth my soul What, does my daughter Jesu. take it so? What hast thou done? o let me see thine eyes, O let me dress up those untrimmed locks, Look up, sweet child, look up mine only joy, 'Tis I thy father that beseecheth thee: Rear up thy body, strain thy dying voice To speak to him, sweet Gismund speak to me. Sa e lovely child, say on, what ere it be, Thy father grants it willingly to thee.