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Full speech
I esteem you (Sir) a friend to virtue, And in that hope would cherish all your love. I am too timorous to deal with anger: If he prove stern of nature, my Marriage Is my funeral. My Lord! Hide me, Paradine! the object does so Penetrate, that when I wink, I spy it Through my Lids. Thesina, prithee help me in discourse; My wonder (Wench) does so disturb my speech, I fear I shall grow dumb. Sir, the King is cruel. Should you prove so To me, I'd soon distil my soul to tears, And weep and Ocean deep enough to drown My sorrows, and my self. I knew your Excellence did visit me For mirth and laughter. Fie, Thesina, your tongue's unruly. When you did triumph in your father's Court, My entreaty then had power to altar Your commands; reward my young service With kindness to your self. When the tall Cedar falls, with burly weight it strikes The neighbouring shrubs, low, into the ground: So we that spring Like Rushes near your root, Must in your death receive a funeral. The King may have his anger warranted. For heaven forbids such wild division Between those whom holy Church unites. Sir, I willingly obey it. But as You're Noble, use your ablest skill, instruct The Queen how of her anger to dispose A safer way, then against the King. Sir, he already knows your worth, and thinks Your friendship precious. Exit. I fear I make some breach of duty with Your Excellence, to hinder thus The passage of your Royal thoughts. Oh Royal Sir, her cruelty hath put My eyes unto th'expence of many tears. 'Tis my duty to urge all circumstance, That may credit you in her esteem. Fallen, fallen, you thick and spongy clouds, until You choke my sighed. Do not my eyes begin To bleed at this object? I'll summon all the hierarchy of heaven To censure'em! Was this the cause, that made th'adulterous Queen So strictly urge my swift journey unto Pavia? So soon prove false? ere the celebration Of our marriage Rites were fully ended? Ere the Sun in's journey over this Region Had twice beheld thus incorporate By holy Church, and smiled upon the Hope's Of our increase? Oh my sinister Stars! Thus I shall weep Till I have emptied all my veins. I have a resolute intent to die, And seek my Mansion in a purer Orb. Oh name it, ere my sorrow shall decay Me strength: for I would mix ability With will. Would you have me kill him? But shall I justice take from powerful Heaven, And use it with such cruelty? I do suspect my courage! The Viol liquid Led contains, or else Some far more ponderous Metal: for while I bear it thus, the wieght seems to infuse A Palsy in my hand. I tremble Like A string touched on my Lute. Would you have him killed, yet love him thus? Ere winged Time, shall with swift motion add Another hour, to the life of this sick day; Thou shalt begin thy last sleep. How, Paradine? Art thou so full of gilded, (Most ulcerous and deformed) yet thinkest to keep Thy life at Nature's charge, to exist till age Makes thee a Cripple: then in thy bed, (Like some good old Patriarch) thy soul dismiss With a divine rapture? No, no; joust Heaven Provides more rash and horrid death's for such, As in adultery bath their silken limbs. I know thy gilded; the King hath told me all. 'Twas wondrous strange! Our vows but new arrived In heaven, that did oblige our mutual Faiths In love: and thou with savage lust to break them? Though grief hath much consumed my tears, yet I Have some still left to express my pity. You are poisoned, Paradine. The Vipers vomit, nor the blue steam, Which fat Toads do breathe in tired motion, Bears not such a dangerous enmity against humane Nature, as that you drunk. It takes a subtle leisure to disperse Thorough all your Organs, and your Arteries, That it may strait with abler violence Consume your strength. Far, far more deformed. Not the first Chaos was so ugly and Confused, as you'll appear, when this distilment works. I did not think, his fancy, at this news, Could prove so temperate. My nature you shall find much different, From what your knowledge heretofore discerned. I have contrived another way to punish Thy adulterous heat. To meet your sin with apt revenge, I'm grown A foul lose whore. 'Tis truth: and I confirm't with pride. O, o! Hold, hold! Leave me a little breath To use in prayer. Dare you trust my last utterance? I am not false unto your bed: I never In act, nor guilty thought, did violate My Marriage vows. No Vestal that preserved with quickening oil, The sacred flame, was in her chastity More cold, more timorous then I: nor are You poisoned. 'Twas healthful, as the blood of Grapes to age, And all your faculties do still preserve Their wonted harmony. 'Twas to enrage your violence, with hope To make you soon my executioner. For hearing you were false, I found no joy In life: your hand hath sealed my wishes. Named you Hermegild, guilty of that sin? He's then a horrid hypocrite: he did Entice me by a poisonous practice to Contrive your death, but found my nature loyal. I feel the frozen hand of death. O! o! o! Mercy! mercy! I've herd my mother say: the curled Youth Of Italy, were prompt in wanton stealths, And sinful Arts. Till Time had given me Assurance of your noble thoughts; 'twas safe To doubt your love. But now I wish I were More worthy, and then would prove more liberal Of my self. I mourn for you, since you must hasten your Eternal absence now from me, and all That else are mortal.
Plot summary
Plot — Albovine, King of the Lombards
Before the start of the action, King Albovine killed a vanquished king and took his daughter Rhodolinda prisoner; another prisoner of war, Paradine, has risen to be his favourite. Albovine marries Rhodolinda, but at the wedding banquet he drunkenly forces her to drink from a cup made of her father’s skull. She responds by refusing to consummate the marriage. Hermegild, who has a grudge against Paradine, encourages Albovine to make advances to Paradine’s wife, Valdaura, but then arranges for Rhodolinda to witness the encounter and tells her that Albovine is promiscuous. She swears revenge and promises to take Hermegild as her second husband if he will help her. Valdaura spends every night away from her nuptial bed, claiming that Rhodolinda requires her overnight attendance. A court lady, Thesina, offers to arrange an opportunity for the frustrated Paradine to sleep with his own wife. The following morning, however, he learns that his nocturnal partner was Rhodolinda. She tells hirn of Valdaura’s adultery and demands that he ki}} Albovine, or be denounced as a rapist. Hermegild sees to it that Valdaura eavesdrops on the meeting, arouses her jealousy, and gives her a slow-acting poison with which to kill her husband; his plan is to ensure that Paradine kills Albovine before the poison takes effect. Yaidaura pretends to adetintster the poison and goads Paradine into killing her; but she dies affirming that the pyisoning was only a bluff. At Hermiegild’s instigation. Paradine |is mt to believe that Albovine 1626 knows of his night with Rhodolinda, cuckolded him with Valdaura, and is trying to have him killed. He goes to assassinate Albovine, but decides at the last moment that they should talk things over first. It emerges that Albovine did not know of Rhodolinda’s adultery and did not succeed in seducing Valdaura. In despair, he asks Paradine to kill him, and falls on his own sword when Paradine refuses. Rhodolinda tries to kiss Paradine, but he bites her lips off, then kills both her and Hermegild. The Governor of Verona orders that he be kept alive to explain what has happened. In the sub-plot, the war veteran Grimold makes prolonged efforts to shame Albovine into paying his extensive arrears of wages, and is ultimately successful.