PARADINE

G Iue the word aloud? Our motion has been swift: we out-march Time. Verona, (which with the morning's dim eye We seemed to view Like Landschaip, afar off) Is our full object now. She must repent; Our King is Steward unto Fate; the world Receive from him their destinies. Since we attained the Town not by assault, But composition free, he shall express Humility enough to meet us at the Gate. Ere I return your kind salute, I would After your fair charge inquire. Say the Queen Smiles in captivity, my Valdaura Hurts not her health with grief; then I have herd Enough to make me cherish life. Know, Hermegild, no hasty minute passed (Since their captivity) wherein I failed To be a suitor to the King for both. But he's in kindness prompt, and still does speak Like Music, when he Rhodolinda names: You hear 'tis his edict we call her Queen? I knew we should have use of conference: Which made me beg the leading of the Van, The more assist our opportune meeting. You are precious unto her, whom loud noise Already calls our Queen: fair Rhodolinda ! We may (if they prove natural and kind) Govern the Nation that hath conquered us; Gain our Country liberty, and yet Not stray from noble Arts: such Hope's our free Embraces prophecy. The King. My Countryman would kiss your Royal hands, And then expect no greater happiness Till he arrive in heaven. He hath done your Rhodolinda service— Presents Hermeg. on his knee to the King. And my Valdaura too! let Nature show A third object so delightful, we'll swear She is not old, nor her first materials Wasted, but in creation still retains Her former strength and skill. Why, my deer Valdaura, dost thou suspect My warm embraces? Let hungry death cease On my honour, before it cease on me, If in my breast I entertain a thought Unlawful. In thy fair brow, there's such a Legend writ Of timorous chastity, that it does blind Th'adulterous Eye. Not the Mountain Ice, (Congealed to Crystal) is so frosty chaste As thy victorious soul, which conquers Man, And Men proud Tyrant-passion. But I am Too rough for Courtship, the soft harmony Which wanton Peace instructs the Tongue to make, I have forgotten. Trust me (bright Maid!) I love thee dearly. Though I've found thy heart Like Pebble, smooth, but stony. Let me enjoy thy hand! that moist Adamant That so attracts my soul! We will (ere night Her black Curtain draws) make complete this love, With marriage Rites. Humbly on my knee, I beg the vulgar Privilege endue to all hearts. To love, and not enjoy, Is a torture, I cannot suffer long, And still remain possessed with breath. Sh'as and ill bargain on't, to rule one night, And ever after to obey. He must not, Hermegild ! These whom you number in your faction, Enjoy, by your assistance, proud structures; And fertile Granges, to maintain their gaudy Riot. Sir, you had a frail memory, Or a degenerate heart, when you forgotten His merit; might you incorporate those in one, The sordid bulk could never make up his shadow. Grimold, away! 'Tis my desire you leave The Presence. I cannot reckon it among my faults. Sir, you involve your meaning in your speech. The world shall find me honest. I want your phrase, to make my manners seem Less rugged. All that is love, I cherish With such religious heat, as my Valdaura Claims, since our young Nuptial— I ever held your Majesty my best Example. Kisses nimbly gathered, The faster grow. Conrade, the King will drown us all! Sir, you engaged your Royal word, never To present that fatal object. I am in my ambition virtuous, If I desire t'expire a sacrifice To loyalty. Sir, ruin what you made, But do not violate your Vow. Fly, deer Valdaura ; sweeten her censure Of this act, and mediate for the King. You're my best Countryman, kind and loyal. My Royal Lord! Sir, am I lost unto your memory? You were wont to trust my service: the way Unto your Couch lies here— Cunymond, you are too officious! The Kings Departure must be private. To bed soft modesty! I will my self Deliver to the Queen the King's intent. 'Twere stern gilded to doubt my nature. Fair Saint, To bed, I long to loose my Youth in warm Embraces, and ere the pearly Morn appear, Make thee a teeming Mother. To bed! with winged hast Expect my presence. Hail Rhodolinda! the Royal Mistress Of this night. Thus Albouine (our great King) bade Me say, You're dearer to his eyes then light. Though every Bride may claim from Hymen Privilege to rule her Lord, till Hesperus Appear, and cancel her brief Charter. Yet he does humbly beg, you'll not infringe The Lombards custom, whose Virgins never vow A continence the Nuptial night. Oh take heed! Take heed, fair Majesty! let not His rash sin provoke you to intend so dire And abstinence: ere yet the wine hath lost Unruly operation. The King disclaims His wanton pride, and mortifies himself With sullen grief. Heaven avert you should approve your error. As you esteem your Royal self, or us, Who (when kinder Planets ruled) were servants To unhappy King your father; cherish No more this anger in your breast, lest Time Afford it growth and violence, till it Disturb the world. I will inform the King, your continence You only celebrate to this black night, And give him hope, that you'll hereafter smile, His kind enticements meet with equal heat, And fertile love. Though I'm unhewn, and shaped In war, this softens all my faculties— I did with a devout remembrance! I think on it, and my heart hangs heavy On its strings; galls them with its sullen weight. Oh harsh captivity! Our Country groans! Till now I thought the Conqueror gan to ease Their bondage, not add to the weight of their Compelled burdens. Yet he hath used me still with gentle power, Taken me from the cold Earth, and warmed me in His bosom: and Hermegild has full cause To bless his bounty. But you (now our Queen) He valves next to heaven; however this rash Error strives to disgrace his love. We are His captives too; heretofore not heeded By our Stars; though we now grow tall with titles And his favour. False unto me! when Thunder wakes the dead: When the Sky looks swarthy: the clouds Like ink In water poured: when the Earth seems to stand As in a gloomy shade. When the wind blows Till it grows hoarse: till it convert And sprinkle Seas even to a Due; then I Shall try the King, and fathom his wide Soul. If he start, complain of his mortality, Kneel oft; and pray aloud, as Heaven Were deaf: if thus, I will conclude him false. For horrid storms that Tyrants waking keep, Do rock the noble Conscience safe asleep. Exit. Sir, I have hope, she will repent this breach Of duty, and court your Royal smiles again. He bruised me in his arms. Can love express Such violence, and yet be false? Hermegild Still whispers in my ear, the King does hate Thee, Paradine. But Hermegild is read in all The Arts of Court, and strives perhaps My sense to poison with lean jealousy. He courts me too! I want a Perspective, To draw these distant figures near my sighed. I never shall sleep again. Grimold, you endanger your friends. You bring no letters from Cracovia, Sir? Nor from Sienna? Alas, my Countrymen! Captivity Is hoarse, they have more griefs then tongue: they speak Not loud enough to wake the ear of heaven. Henceforth to Hermegild bid them direct Their sighs; for I'm so dull, so weary, and Neglectful of ambitious ends, that I Shall loose my strength, and favour with the King. The fair Thesina? You are rarely here A visitant! Where have you left my Bride? How can my faith admit of this, since she Is billeted where the Queen sleeps? To be dumb in copulation! This is A fine receipt to get a silent Girl. But I shall prove obedient. Fear not, Thesina: I shall be temperate. The early Lark climbs higher then his voice; And whispers into Phœbus ear, a glad Welcome; who smiles, and seems to prophecy A gawdy day. Valdaura? Madame? speak, Sweet Lady! or, if for concealment of Our stolen rapture you silence still assume; Yet rise, and bless my eyesight with thy fair Presence. Come, and eclipse the envious day! Not talk ith' business, nor yet behold The ground we till, as if we both were blind And dumb. I'll no more by stealth engender; Cripples are God thus. Kind Valdaura, speak! See, a new day breaks in her hand! These are The rosy fingers of the Morn! Hah! the Queen! Valdaura! Bride, where art thou? Thou art mysterious as and Oracle! I've mistaken then my warm embraces, And sinned with thee the adulterous Queen! Oh horror! gape, rugged Earth! Suck me in Like some old Pyramid, whose ponderous limbs Have been thy burden since the Flood, and now Their own foundation sink. Could you make No choice to quench your ravenous lust, but me? Where were the broad-chin'd Zwitzers of your Guard? Hah! Who is within there, hoa! My Hogshead's empty. I was not born with so much brains, as would Bedew a clout, that my cold Nosthrill stopped. These Court smocks contain the very Devil. Good heaven! how lean should I have made my heart With studious thoughts, ere I the skill had reached Of such a damned projection. Sure Time grows humorous with age: for things Do differ much from the sincereness of Their first creation. I will go weep Till I am blind— New Arts, t'inuolue imagination! How can this be, and my own wife strongly Possessed of health and nature! My memory betrays my skill! I know There are a thousand ways to discard her, From this foul, dirty Orb. How! False! More horrible then Hell! Now furnish but my hands with and Hourglass, And a long Dart, then seat me on some rotten Monument for the picture of lean Death. Make me the common Executioner Of Nature. For ere long I shall become The Sextons Pensioner to fill his Graves. Valdaura false! For credit of your own humanity, Do not infringe the vulgar privilege Endue to all hearts. Give me but leave to think; And never doubt your business! Though I'm a young Sinner; yet I shall soon inquire the way To hell. 'Tis a continued thoroughfare From this Climate thither. Or let me but Delay my journey, till the trivial rage Of Christian Princes, meet in horrid battle; And then I shall have company enough: Whole throngs to choke the throat of hell. Good night, Madame. To me it seems the Eye of heaven does wink. All things are clothed in darkness, black as your Design. Hah! why, Valdaura, dost thou appear Like A funeral night, in dark, and swarthy weeds! A pale Swan hath sung my Dirge! Oh fatal Music! but how comes this intelligence To Ears of flesh and blood? have you of late Been gossiping with the grim Stygian Dams, And seen their Cisers gall my vital Thread? For to my own sense I needs no Physic. My faculties enjoy that pleasant strength Which appertains to youth and temperance; Why should I yet die? Hah! My adultery already known, both to The King and her? why, these are prodigies Indeed. How sin imboldens the aspect! She does accuse me for a gilded, which yet Remains unpardoned in her self. Mine was A dire mistake: but hers—that must be known, And then her veins shall weep. With that cold draught you sent me now ith' Bowl? Stay! Me thinks I feel no insurrection In my blood, nor needs and Iron Corselet To contain my flesh; sure it swells not yet. And then I shall look goggle-eyed! and stretch Ith' cheeks, till my face show Like a Pompeon, Round and yellow? Yet I forgive you all, even from my heart: While my cogitations now are sober, And can distinguish things with pregnant sense. I do applaud this cruel benefit. These subtle vanities of Court have tired My observation. I was nursed within Some Armoury, and took a proud delight In active War; but since our Drums have ceased Their noble clamour, I find no business Upon Earth for me; 'tis fit I grow immortal. I am not fraught with devils spleen; I would Not hurt thy soul: here solitary fit, While I send up and humble sacrifice, That shall bespeak a pardon for thy crime, Ere thou arrive near heaven. Puts her in a Chair. Art thou not a Whore? Hah! was not that a mixture of distilled Venom, which I drunk? Sweet spirit, do not riddle thus with Heaven, Nor sport thy soul away. Why didst accuse Thy self of stern murder, and pernicious lust; Yet art thus clear from both? New wonders still! Valdaura! Bride! Onoble Girl! Already turned a Ghost! There's rare music Now in heaven, since thou art gone increase The sacred Choir. I may behold thee in The purple sky, mixed there with other Stars, But never on this soil again. Be this Thy Tomb awhile. The Curtains softly drawn— Hermegild treacherous! with poison too? That was her word. 'Tis fit I seem to have drunk The medicine up. Good! The rough young Soldier May spy at last these spirits of the Court, That walk in artificial clouds: or if Their high conceptions soar above my reach, Yet they have mortal hearts; such as our own Country steel, may with feeble motion prick, Prick till they groan: for I have now decreed, Whom my dull sense cannot subdue, shall bleed. Exit. I have revealed the evidence, that does Persuade my Creed. Hah! Enjoyed her! how? Heaven! will these miracles never cease? Fire! fire! and warm blood! Exit. To make him bleed, and leave his arteries (Where the delighted spirits walk) shrunk up, Until they curl with heat. The withered frame Strait to convert to dust. Then the vmerous wind, To fan it over the world. Speak, joust Heaven! Is this fit usage for a King? Cassius Was rash: perhaps to gain noise at's funeral; Or in is Elysian fields; beneath a pleasant Hedge To tell some prattling ghost what he had done— Hah! but Brutus, noble Brutus ! the pride Of Arts and War: so temperate, his soul Was more harmonious then the Spheres. Instruct (Heroic Lord) thy young Pupil! Why did The mighty Caesar fallen, by thy cold wrath? All silent as the night! He sleeps: before Him too, those papers that concern my house Affairs; and my Official rule in State. Here he comments on my Letters! here with Thrifty documents limits my expense. Can this indulgent care be counterfeit? And merely carry a pretence of love? he made My wife a black adulteress. Oh horror! Yet who knows, but 'twas rather his revenge, Then lust; a furious riot, after that He knew I whored his Queen— Sir! My Lord the King! Sir! Oh Sir, do not mock my penitence, nor seem Thus to disguise the knowledge of that crime, Which hath defiled my modest blood, and makes Me now ashamed to encounter with your eyes. Sir, I could creep alive into my Tomb, And mix society with Ghosts, while I Have yet warm motion left, could I but hide My gilded from your perspicuous sighed. Your black adulterous Queen betrayed Me to her lust by wicked Arts. Had not heroic war taught me to affect No rage, but noble; she and Hermegild Had enticed me now to lengthen this your sleep, Until the day of general accounts. Thunder and sulphurous fire snatch my cold limbs From this dull earth. Sir, while my soul affords Me reason, and can direct me unto whom My true allegiance is a debt, kill me! When I am mad, I shall forget all duty, And refuse to obey your Royal Charter. Thrust your good Sword home, till my heart shall kiss Your Hilts. Are you so slow in justice? Think, How by a dark mistake, I whored your Queen: Whored your Queen! Oh prodigious phrase! For what dire use? Though this high enticement charms my blood, Like The music of the Drum. Yet my remembrance Calls you King; My Royal Master. I would Not join rebellion and ingratitude To the prolix number of my sins. I dare not so disgrace my Religion, And my love. No provocation Like to this, could tempt A danger from my Arm— He draws. Some surgery from heaven! Are you hurt, Sir? You willingly opposed your breast against My steel, and never sought to endanger me With yours. Shall posterity read it in story And believe; a Prince that does deserve to be The first ith' List of those, that gathered noise In war, can be thus covetous to expire In silence dark. Fallen on my fatal point, And yet command that I survive the Tragedy! Still my amazement does increase! Were you Not told of this before! Yet one reply, then make my joy exceed My wonder. Did you never in my bed, Commit a lustful stealth? What Potter made this earthy Skull! pardon (Dear Valdaura ) my dull suspect! Sing out Thy Hymns in heaven and never listen more To my found speech; for they have made me mad! Ecstasy! To whom sir? He does pervert my sense. Mad as the Northern wind! There died the noblest Trophy of our war! The Lombards now have lost their victory. So hardy of creation, his heartstrings Were as Cordage, tough; cracked Like a Cable, When the frighted Bark starts from the Anchor. All that are nursed in war, shall mourn for thee. Our Ensigns now we will of Cypress make knocking. Hah! It is the wind that whispers he must Be hid. I'm sure this noise can never wake him— Oh, are you come? He has paid for his wharfage already, And is now entering Charon's Boat. There's the old Face. It is as if the Parca spoke. If there Be any other whom your envy, or Your hate would have dismissed the world, make him But known, and he is numbered with the dead. Cease your loud clamor, Royal Whore. Thy flesh is sour, musty; more tainted then A Carrion in a phlegmatic ditch for else Like the Anthropophagus, I had devoured thee up. This made Valdaura bleed, and must let forth Thy swarthy soul— Stabs her with his Poniard. For Albouine my Royal Master, this— And this to pacify Valdaura's Ghost— So hard and stony is thy heart, that it Reverts the point of my bright steel. Since thou hast received my justice, I wish Thee mercy too— Knocking. 'Tis Hermegild, now I shall end my chief Discovery. What a full Sepulcher is this— Carries her in. Knocking again. Now I must practice my disguise. Revert The Spring twice, and you may enter. The King is dead, that sanguine instrument Did set his Soul at liberty. O, o! the poison works— O, o! It skorches all my entrails up: As if Like Porciam I had swallowed coals. I spit scum, such as over the hight Caldron boils— I cannot rise. A stiff convulsion in My Sinews fetters all my limbs— Oh heaven, will you permit him laugh? O, o, o! Oh horror! horror! Is Heaven asleep? Had I but strength to actuate my revenge? Draw near, and let me then but kill thee— No! that shall arrive unto the . Dog! grim As th'angry Fiend, that must devour thy soul! I am not poisoned. See here, what abject ruins thou hast made O'the noblest structures in the world— I will now see, if thou canst bleed Like things mortal— Thou barkest against the Moon! I will requite Thy own tyrannous scorn. That destiny Was joust, that thus betrayed thee to my mirth. There, Stygian Dog— Wounds him. Where now are all the subtle Trophies of Thy brain? Plots, dark as hell! projections grim! Such, as threatened Nature, and seemed to fright The Genius of the world. Now, now prevent These dire salutes— Take my last anger, and good night! Falls. Now I do swell with horror and stern rage: I will distract the whole world. Fire! fire! fire! Murder, Treason, & incestuous rapes! Fire! fire! Exit. Here's another object fit for wonder, Though not for pity. Spurns Hermegild. All stay. I'll boar his haggard soul that strives With saucy strength, to captivate my Limbs: Hark, the big drum recovers breath, and speaks! March on! The scattered foe retires, and all The glorious Horse are slain. I am magnanimous, And high! Oh you unkind false stars! you mock Poor Paradine ! A few clean Tears to wash My sins away, and I am seen no more. Their lives are forfeited to me — Here, here, it galled my very heart!— 'Tis his chief hope that you will straight expect His person in your bed. The Queen will bless your temperance, & repent. Hermegild is too busy: he must be more At leisure, and I more active. You may expect, while I am able to Perform. Boy, bespeak the Gentleman a free And bounteous welcome. Sir, I will hasten Your dispatch. Hah! so soon divided! Th'approching night Should help to second our embraces. The Sun does melt us with his scorching beams. Go fill my usual Beuiridge: I'll drink Till I am cold. Exit Page. The constitution of my Soul, agrees Not with this Climate. I grow weary Of mortality. Even in my first growth (Since my Corselet was my load) I have took My breeding in the Camp; where had I still Remained a dull practic soldier, and never seen A Woman, nor the Court, I might have had Some hope, to gain by faith, but now I reach At wild despair. Enter Page with a Bowl. The Queen prescribed this hour for her return. That she grows black with sin, perverts my sense, I must seem not to know't. Say, I greet her health- drinks. Speak things, that are less dangerous to my sense. This wonder will distract me. Will't make my eyes start from my skull, or drop Like bullets at my feet? Speak, shall I foam At mouth Like some young Courser, that is hight And angry with his bit? To sleep in cold earth, while my dead neighbour Never at my Coffin knocks, to inquire my health, By way of visit: for all are silent In the graven. Harsh destiny! Such as I Could never expect from thee, Valdaura. You find my sufferance tame enough. Publish all! Hah! contain thy speech. Express but so much Modesty, as may secure thy life: for My death does not concern my rage so much, As this foul murder of thy fame. O, o! these are the Mandrakes groans (fatal!) For whoso hears them, straight encounters death. Now smile (sweet Heaven) since thus I but return Her own justice. For my adulterous act, She takes my life, and shall I let that bold Adulteress live?— Stabs her with is Poigniard. Oh speak, ere thou dost catch and everlasting cold, And shalt be herd no more. New Arts increase my wonder: I'm orereach'd, Where I thought my nature was most skilful! Even in love! Oh stay: had not distraction Ceased my memory; I should at first have told you The mistake, by which the sinful Queen And Hermegild betrayed my chaste Honour. Valdaura's damned! she howls so loud, that she Disturbs all hell! Oh perjured Whore! Those immaterial powers, that see the thoughts of men, When growing in their hearts, can witness I Abused your Royal bed, but by a dire Mistake. Then glorious war, and all proud circumstance, That gives a soldier noise, for evermore farewell— Should I but speak each cunning circumstance— Stay! Nor with Valdaura, you did never project My death by poison? Let's to't Like Monkeys, or the reeking Goat. Hardy as the Scythians raze, I greet thy heart—