FALLERIO

Brother and sister how my heart laments, To see your weak and sick afflicted limbs, Near overcome with direful maladies, The God of heaven can truly testify, Which to speak plain, is never a whit at all. To the people. Which knows the secret corners of my heart, But for the care you do impose on me, For the tu ion of your little son, Think my kind brother, I will meditate, Both day and night, how I may best fulfil, The care and trust, reposed in your Will, And see him posted quickly after you. To the people. Assure your self the safest course I can, Shall be provided for your little son, He shall be sent unto the King of heaven. To the people. If it were sealed, I would you both were dead. If he miscarry, brother God forbid, God bless mine Nephew, that thine eyes may see, Thy children's children with prosperity: I had rather see the little urchin hanged, To the people. Then he should live, and I forgo the land. Harken son, I must entreat your furtherance and advise, About a thing that does concern us near, First tell me how thou dost affect in heart, Little Pertillo, thy dead Uncles son. How God his safety such a deep regard Within your heart, that you affect it so? But nature, love, and reason, tells thee thus, Thy self must yet be nearest to thy self. Beware to foster such pernicious snakes, Within thy bosom, which will poison thee. I will be plainer, know Pertill S life, Which thou dost call, a Dove, and innocent: A harmless child, and, and I know not what, Will harm thee more, then any Serpent can, I, then the very sighed of Basilisks. Harken to me, and I will tell thee how: Thou knowest his father's goods, his houses, lands, Have much advanced our reputation, In having but their usage for a time, If the boy live, then Like to senseless beasts, Like lo gd eared Asses, and rich laden Mules, We must resign these treasures to a boy, And we Like Asses feed on simple Hay: Make him away, they shall continue ours, By virtue of his father's Testament, The Jewels, castles, meadows, houses, lands, Which thy small cozen, should defeat thee of, Be still thine own, and thou advance thy self, Above the height of all thine Ancestors. What wilt thou bar thy self of happiness, Stop the large stream of pleasures which would f owe, And still attend on thee Like Servingmen: Prefer the life of him that loves thee not, Before thine own, and my felicity. In faith I do not, therefore prithee say, Will thou consent to have him made away. Still are you wagging that rebellious tongue, I'll dig it out for Crows to feed upon, If thou continue longer in my sighed. Exit Allenso. He loves him better then he loves his life, Heres repetition of my brother's care, Of sisters charge, of grace, and fear of God, Fear dastards, cowards, fa nt heart runaways, I'll fear no colours to obtain my will, Though all the fiends in hell were opposite Idem rather lose mine eye, my hand, my foot, Be blind, want senses, and be ever lame, Then be tormented with such discontent, This resignation would afflict me with, Be blithe my boy, thy life shall sure be done, Before the setting of the morrow sun. Seem it not strange resolved gentleman n, That I thus privately have severed you, To open secret sorrows of my heart: Think not I do intend to undermine, Your passed lives, although you know I am, A man to whom the true unpartial sword, Of equal justice is delivered, Therefore swear both, as you respect your souls, At the last dreadful sessions hold in heaven, First to conceal, and next to execute, What I reveal, and shall enjoin you to. There go aside, ye seeming semblances, Of equal justice, and true piety, And lay my hearts corrupted Cytadell, Wide open to your thoughts to look into. Know I am named Fallerio, to deceive The world with show of truth and honesty, But yet nor truth, nor honesty abides, Within my thoughts, but falsehood, cruelty, Blood sucking Avarice, and all the sins, That hale men on to bloody stratagems, Like to your selves, which care not how you gain, By blood, extortion, falsehood, perjury, So you may have a pleasing recompense: They start. Start not aside, depart not from your selves, I know your composition is as mine, Of blood, extortion, falsehood, perjury, True branded with the mark of wickedness. I know that well for were I not assured, Of your performance in this enterprise, I would not open the closet of my breast, To let you know my close intention, There is a little boy, and urchin lad, That stands between me and the glorious rays, Of my soul-wishing sun of happiness: There is a thicket ten miles from this place, Whose secret ambush, and unused ways, Does seem to join with our conspiracy, There murder him, and when the deed is done, Cast his dead body in some dirty ditch, And leave him for the Fowls to feed upon: Do this, here is two hundredth marks in gold, To harten on your resolution: Two hundredth more, after the deed is done, I'll pay you more for satisfaction. That must be done with cunning secrecy, I have devised to send the boy abroad, With this excuse, to have him fostered, In better manners then this place affords, My wife, though loath indeed to partly with him, Yet for his good, she will forgo her joy, With hope in time to have more firm delights, Which she expects from young Pertillos life. Why so? To morrow morning by the break of day, And you must swear yowl see him safely brought, Unto the place that I do send him to. Come gentlemen, this night go rest with me, To morrow end Pertillos tragedy. Exeunt omnes. I think thou art inspired with prophesy, To the people. He loves thee better then I would he did: Why wherefore think you so my pretty Nephew? I, with thy lands and goods thou leavest behind. Upon my life, my son you are to blame, The gentlemen are honest, virtuous, And will protect Pertillo happily: These thoughts proceed out of abundant love, Because you grieve to leave his company: If ought betide him otherwise then well, Let God require endue vengeance on my head, And cut my Hope's from all prosperity. What have you done, this loathness to depart, Seems you were trained up in tediousness, That know not when and where to make and end: Take him my friends, I know you will discharge, The hope and trust that I repose in you. Then to your horses, quickly, speedily, Else we shall put our fingers in the eye, And weep for kindness till to morrow morn. Not murdered, what else? kill him I say, But wherefore makest thou question of my will? O that was nothing but to blind the eyes, Of my found son, which loves him too too well. Pass these rugged furrows of laments, And come to plainer paths of cheerfulness, Cease thy continual showers of thy woe, And let my pleasing words of comfort chase, This dusky clouds of thy unjust despair, Far from thy heart, and let a pleasing hope, Of young Pertillos happy safe return, Establish all your ill deuining thoughts, So shall you make me cheerful that am sad, And feed your Hope's with found illusions. By sweet S. Andrew and my father's soul, I think the peevish boy be too too well: But speak, who was your passion harbinger. O then I know the tinder of your fe re, Was young Allenso your white honey son: Confusion light upon his timorous head, For broaching this large stream of fea efulnesse, And all the plagues that damned f ies feel, For their forepassed bold iniquities: Afflict you both for thus preventing me. Why of the good hat I had purposed, To young Pertillo, which I would conceal, From you, and him, until the deed were done. I say your close ease-dropping policies, Have hindered him of greater benefits, Then I can ever do him after this: If he live long, and grow to riper sin, To the people Heel curse you both, that thus have hindered His freedom from this goal of sinful flesh: But let that pass, when went your harebrained son, That Cuckoo virtue-singing, hateful bird, To Guard the safety of his better partly, Which he hath pend within the childish coop, Of young Pertillos sweet security. What is a lovely? he's a loathsome toad, A one eyed Cyclops, a stigmatic brat, That durst attempt to contradict my will, And pry into my close intendments. Mass here a comes, his downcast sullen look, Is over weighed with mighty discontent, I hope the brat is posted to his sire, That he is grown so lazy of his pace: Forgetful of his duty, and his tongue, Is even fast tied with strings of heaviness. Come hither boy, sawest thou my obstacle, That little Dromus that crept into my son, With friendly hand, removed and thrust away, Say I, and please me with the swee est note, That ever relis to in a mortals mouth. Never the Like impiety was done, A mother slain, with terror of the son: Help to repair the damage thou hast made, And seek to call back life with diligence. I all too soon, thou viper, parricide, But for thy tongue thy mother had not died, That belching voice, that harsh night-raven found, Untimely sent thy mother to the ground, Upbraid my fault, I did deceive my brother, Cut out thy tongue, that slew thy careful mother. I would that remnant had fled quick to hell, To fetch fierce finds to rend their carcases, Rather then bring my life in jeopardy: Is this the best, swones do you mock me son, And make a est at my calamity I'll none of that, I do not Like the last, I love thee dearer then I do my life, And all I did, was to advance thy state, To sun bright beams of shining happiness. Mass thou sayest true, a cannot punish thee, Thou Wertenberg no actor of their Tragedy: But for my beard thou canst not counterfeit, And bring grey hairs upon thy downy chin, White frosts are never seen in summer's spring. This care of thine my son does testify, Nature in thee hath firm predominance, That neither lose of friend, nor vile reproach, Can shake thee with their strongest violence: In this disguise, isle see the end of thee, That thou acquitted, then mayest succour me. I will bear hence thy mother, and my wife, Untimely murdered with true sorrows knife. Exit. Some vive and twenty, whereof two are dead, But three and twenty S ud about the fields, That glads my heart to ze their jollity. Chil let om blood, but yet it is no time, Until the zygne be gone below the heart. I tell you plain, you are no honest man, To call a shepherd's care and idle toy, What though we have a little merry sport, With flowery girlands, and and Oaten pipe, And jolly friskins on a holiday, Yet is a shepherd's cure, a greater cark, Then sweating Ploughman with their busy work. I know your error stricks your knowledge blind, His seeming me, does so delude your mind. People. I am the wretch that did suborn the slaves, To murder poor Pertillo in the wood, Spare, spare Alenso, he is innocent. Unsavoury Worm wood, Hemlock, bitter gall, Brings no such bade, unrelished, Sour taste, V oh the tongue, as this death boding voice, Brings to the ears of poor Fallerio. Not for my self but for Allensoes sake, Whom I have murdered by my treachery: Ah my dread Lord, if any little spark, Of melting pity does remain alive, And not extinguished by my impious deeds, O kindle it unto a happy flame, To light Allenso from this misery; Which through dim death he's Like to fallen into. To know the certainty, of whom, of what, Whom, whither when, or whereabout I pray, Have you dispatched a frustrate messenger, By heaven, and earth, my heart misguiseth me, They will prevent my cunning policy. To the people. Why speak you not what winged Pega us, Is posted for your satisfaction. What and, this news is good. Better and better, then it cannot out, Unless your love will be so scripulous, That it will overthrown your self and me. Swones what of that? what good can come of that? Declare it then, my wits are now to seek, That piece of life hath so confounded me, That I am wholly overcome with fear. That's excellent, what shape hast thou devised, To be my vizard to delude the world. Partly of my self, now seemest thou wholly me, And I seem neither Like my self, nor thee: Thanks to thy care, and this unknown disguise. I Like a shepherd now must learn to know, When to led forth my little bleating flock, To pleasing pastures, and well fatting walks, In stormy time to driven them to the lee, To cheer the pretty Lambs, whose bleating voice, Does crave the wished comfort of their dams, To found my merry Bagpipe on the downs, In shearing times poor shepherd's festivals, And lastly, how to driven the Wolf away, That seek to make the little Lambs their pray. To be afflicted with a scourge of care, Which my over weaning rashness did in flict. Thus shades are caught when substances are fled, Indeed they have my garments, but my self, Am close enough from their discovery, But not so close but that my very soul, Is ract with torments for Pertillos death; I am Act n, I do bear about My horns of shame and inhumanity, My thoughts, Like hounds which late did flatter me: With hope of great succeeding benefits. Now gin to tear my care-tormented heart, With fear of death and torturing punishment, These are the stings when as our consciences, Are stuf worser and clogged with close concealed crimes, Well I must smoather all these discontents, And strive to bear a smoother countenance: Then rugged care would willingly permit, I'll to the Court to see All enso free, That he may then relieve my poverty. Exit. Depart, and leave thee clad in horrors cloak, And suffer death for true affection: Although my soul be guilty of more sin, Then ever sinful soul were guilty of: Yet fiends of hell would never suffer this, I am thy father, though unworthy so: O still I see these weeds do sear your eyes: I am Fallerio, make no doubt of me. Put off. Though thus disguised, in habit, countenance, Only to escape the terror of the law. Here is a mercy mixed with equity, To show him favour, but cut off his head. Thou shouldst have tarried until nature's course Had been extinct, that thou over grown with age, Mightest die the death of thy progenitors, It not thy means he died so Suddenly, But mine, that causing his, have murdered thee. I, with reporting of my villainy, The very audit of my wickedness, Had force enough to give a sudden death: Ah sister, sister, now I call to mind, Thy dying words now proved a prophesy, If you deal ill with this distressed child: God will no doubt revenge the innocent, I have dealt ill, and God hath taken revenge. With all my heart thou ever Wertenberg the spur, Which prict me on to any godliness: And now thou dost endeavour to incite, Me make my parting peace with God and men: I do confess even from my very soul, My heinous sin and grievous wickedness, Against my maker many thousand ways: Ab imo cordis I repent my self, Of all my sins against his majesty: And heavenly father lay not to my charge, The death of poor Pertillo and those men, Which I suborned to be his murderers, When I appear before thy heavenly throne, To have my sentence, or of life or death. Forgive thy death my thrice beloved son. Thou never yet Wertenberg disobedient, Unless I did command unlawfulness, Ungratefulness did never trouble thee, Thou art too bounteous thus to guerdon me. Why man, he hath no father left alive. Son be content, weel go a seauenight hence, And see him in his university weeds: These will conduct him safely to the place, Be well assured they'll have a care of him, That you shall never see Pertillo more. To the people. Nay if you gin to brawl, withdraw your self, But utter not the motion that I made, As you love me, or do regard your life. Still prattling, let your grace and fear alone, And leave me quickly to my private thoughts, Or with my sword le open wide a gate, For wrath and bloody death to enter in. Speak softly son, let not thy mother hear, She was almost dead before for very fear. That were a freedom worse then servitude, To cruel Turk, or damned Inf dell: Most righteous Judge, I do appeal for Justice, Justice on him that hath deserved death, Not on Alenso, he is innocent. No, for his gravity is counterfeit, Pluck of his beard, and you will swear it so.