Actus Quartus.

Fry.

THese holy rights perform'd, now take your times,
To spend the remnant of the day in Feast;
Such fit repasts are pleasing to the Saint[…]
Who are your guests, though not with mortall eyes
To be beheld; long prosper in this day
You happy Couple, to each others ioy:

Soran.

Father, your prayer is heard, the hand of goodnesse
Hath beene a sheild for me against my death;
And more to blesse me, hath enricht my life
With this most precious Iewell; such a prize
As Earth hath not another like to this.
Cheere vp my Loue, and Centlemen, my Friends,
Reioyce with mee in mirth, this day wee'le crowne
With lusty Cups to Annabella's health.

Gio.

Oh Torture, were the marriage yet vndone,
Aside.
Ere I'de endure this sight, to see my Loue
Clipt by another, I would dare Confusion,
And stand the horrour of ten thousand deaths.

Vas.

Are you not well Sir?

Gio.

Prethee fellow wayte,
I neede not thy officious diligence.

Flo.

Signior Donado, come you must forget
Your late mishaps, and drowne[…] your cares in wine.
So an. Vasques?

Vas.

My Lord.

Soran.

Reach me that weighty bowle,
Here brother Giouanni, here's to you,
Your turne comes next, though now a Batchelour,
Here's to your sisters happinesse and mine.

Gio.

I cannot drinke.

Soran.

What?

Gio.

'Twill indeede offend me

Anna.

Pray, doe not vrge him if hee be not willing.

Flo.

How now, what noyse is this?

Vas.

O sir, I had forgot to tell you; certaine youg Maidens of Parma in honour to Madam Annabella's marriage, haue sent their loues to her in a Masque, for which they humbly craue your patience and silence.

Soran.

Wee are much bound to them, so much the more as it comes vnexpected; guide them in.

Soran.

Thanks louely Virgins, now might wee but know
To whom wee haue beene beholding for this loue,
Wee shall acknowledge it.

Hip.

Yes, you shall know,
What thinke you now?
Omnes Hippolita?

Hip.

'Tis shee,
Bee not amaz'd; nor blush young louely Bride,
I come not to defraud you of your man,
'Tis now no time to reckon vp the talke
What Parma long hath rumour'd of vs both,
Let rash report run on; the breath that vents it
Will (like a bubble) breake it selfe at last.
But now to you Sweet Creature, lend's your hand,
Perhaps it hath beene said, that I would claime
Some interest in Soranzo, now your Lord,
What I haue right to doe, his soule knowes best:
But in my duty to your Noble worth,
Sweete Annabella, and my care of you,
Here take Soranzo, take this hand from me,
I'le once more ioyne, what by the holy Church
Is finish't and allow'd; haue I done well?

Soran.

You haue too much ingag'd vs.

Hip.

One thing more
That you may know my single charity,
Freely I here remit all interest
I ere could clayme; and guie you backe your vowes,
And to confirm't, reach me a Cup of wine
My Lord Soranzo, in this draught I drinke,
Long res t'ee—

Vas.

Feare nothing—

Soran.

Hippolita, I thanke you, and will pledge
This happy Vnion as another life,
Wine there.

Vas.

You shall haue none, neither shall you pledge her.

Hip.

How!

Vas.

Know now Mistresse shee deuill, your owne mischieuous treachery
Hath kild you, I must not marry you.

Hip.

Villaine.

Omnes.

What's the matter?

Vas.

Foolish woeman, thou art now like a Fire-brand, that hath kindled others and burnt thy selfe; Troppo sperar nigann[…], thy vaine hope hath deceiued thee, thou art but dead, if thou hast any grace, pray.

Hip.

Monster.

Vas.

Dye in charity for shame,
This thing of malice, this woman had priuately corrupted mee with promise of malice, vnder this politique reconciliation to to poyson my Lord, whiles shee might laugh at his Confusion oh his marriage-day; I promis'd her faire, but I knew what my reward should haue beene, and would willingly haue spar'd her life, but that I was acquainted with the danger of her disposition, and now haue fitted her a iust payment in her owne coyne, there shee is, shee hath yet—and end thy dayes in peace vild woman, as for life there's no hope, thinke noton't.

Omnes.

Wonderfull Iustice!

Richard.

Heauen thou art righteous.

Hip.

O 'tis true,
I feele my minute comming, had that slaue
Kept promise, (o my torment) thou this houre
Had'st dyed Soranzo—heate aboue hell fire—
Yet ere I passe away—Cruell, cruell flames—
Take here my curse amongst you; may thy bed
Of marriage be a racke vnto thy heart,
Burne blood and boyle in Vengeance—o my heart,
My Flame's intolerable—maist thou liue
To father Bastards, may her wombe bring forth
Monsters, and dye together in your sinnes
Hated, scorn'd and vnpittied—oh—oh—

Flo.

Was e're so vild a Creature?

Richard.

Here's the end
Of lust and pride.

Soran.

Vasques, I know thee now a trusty seruant,
And neuer will forget thee—come My Loue,
Wee'le home, and thanke the Heauens for this escape,
Father and Friends, wee must breake vp this mirth,
It is too sad a Feast.

Do.

Beare hence the body.

Fry.

Here's an ominous change,
Marke this my Giouani, and take heed,
I feare the euent; that marriage seldome's good,
Where the bride-banquet so begins in blood.

Richard.

My wretched wife more wretched in her shame
Then in her wrongs to me, hath paid too soone
The forfeit of her modesty and life.
And I am sure (my Neece) though vengeance houer,
Keeping aloofe yet from Soranzo's fall,
Yet hee will fall, and sinke with his owne weight.
I need not (now my heart perswades me so)
To further his confusion; there is one
Aboue begins to worke, for as I heare,
Debate's already twixt his wife and him,
Thicken and run to head; shee (as 'tis sayd)
Sleightens his loue, and he abandons hers
Much talke I heare, since things goe thus (my Neece)
In tender loue and pitty of your youth,
My counsell is, that you should free your yeeres
From hazard of these woes; by flying hence
To faire Cremona, there to vow your soule
In holinesse a holy Votaresse,
Leaue me to see the end of these extreames
All humane worldly courses are vneuen,
No life is blessed but the way to Heauen.

Phi.

Vnkle, shall I resolue to be a Nun?

Richard.

I gentle Neece; and in your hourely prayers
Remember me your poore vnhappy Vnkle;
Hie to Cremona now, as Fortune leades,
Your home, your cloyster, your best Friends, your beades,
Your chast and single life shall crowne your Birth,
Who dyes a Virgine, liue a Saint on earth.

Phi.

Then farwell world, and worldly thoughts adeiu,
Welcome chast vowes, my selfe I yeeld to you.

Soran.

Come strumpet, famous whoore, were euery drop
Of blood that runs in thy adulterous veynes
A life, this Sword, (dost see't) should in one blowe
Confound them all, Harlot, rare, notable Harlot,
That with thy brazen face maintainst thy sinne
Was there no man in Parma to be bawd
To your loose cunning whorodome else but I?
Must your hot ytch and plurisie of lust,
The hey day of your luxury be fedd
Vp to a surfeite, and could none but I
Be pickt out to be cloake to your close tricks,
Your belly-sports? Now I must be the Dad
To all that gallymaufrey that's stuft
In thy Corrupted bastard-bearing wombe,
Shey, must I?

Anna.

Beastly man, why 'tis thy fate:
I sued not to thee, for, but that I thought[…]
Your Cuer-louing Lordship would haue runne
Madd on denyall, had yee lent me time,
I would haue told 'ee in what case I was,
But you wou'd needes be doing.

Soran.

Whore of whores!
Dar'st thou tel' mee this?

Anna.

O yes, why not?
You were deceiu'd in mee; 'twas not for loue
I chose you, but for honour; yet know this,
Wou'd you be patient yet, and hide your shame,
I'de see whether I could loue you.

Soran.

Excellent Queane!
Why art thou not with Child?

Anna.

What needs all this,
When 'tis superfluous? I confesse I am.

Soran.

Tell mee by whome.

Anna.

Soft sir, 'twas not in my bargaine.
Yet somewhat sir to stay your lo[…]ging stomacke
I'me content t'acquaint you with; The man,
The more then Man that got this sprightly Boy,
(For 'tis a Boy that for glory sir,
Your heyre shalbe a Sonne,)

Soran.

Damnable Monster.

Anna.

Nay and you will not heare, I'le speake no more.

Soran.

Yes speake, and speake thy last.

Anna.

A match, a match;
This Noble Creature was in euery part
So angell-like, so glorious, that a woeman,
Who had not beene but human as was I,
Would haue kneel'd to him, and haue beg'd for loue.
You, why you are not worthy once to name
His name without true worship, or indeede,
Vnlesse you kneel'd, to heare another name him.

Soran.

What was hee cal'd?

Anna.

Wee are not come to that,
Let it suffice, that you shall haue the glory,
To Father what so Braue a Father got.
In briefe, had not this chance, falne out as't doth,
I neuer had beene troubled with a thought
That you had beene a Creature; but for marriage,
I scarce dreame yet of that.

Soran.

Tell me his name.

Anna.

Alas, alas, there's all
Will you beleeue?

Soran.

What?

Anna.

You shall neuer know.

Soran.

How!

Anna.

Neuer,
If you doe, let mee be curst.

Soran.

Not know it, Strumpet, I'le ripp vp thy heart,
And finde it there.

Anna.

Doe, doe.

Soran.

And with my teeth,
Teare the prodigious leacher joynt by ioynt.

Anna.

Ha, ha, ha, the man's merry.

Soran.

Do'st thou laugh?
Come Wh[…]re, tell mee your louer, or by Truth
I'le how thy flesh to shreds; who is't

Anna.

Che morte pluis dolce che morire per amore.
sings.

Soran.

Thus will I pull thy hayre, and thus I'le drag
Thy lust be-leapred body through the dust.
Yet tell his name.

Anna.

Morendoin gratia Lei morirere senzadolore.
sings

Soran.

Dost thou Triumph? the Treasure of the Earth
Shall not redeeme thee, were there kneeling Kings,
Did begge thy life, or Angells did come downe
To plead in teares, yet should not all preuayle
Against my rage; do'st thou not tremble yet?

Anna.

At what? to dye; No, be a Gallant hang-man
I dare thee to the worst, strike, and strike home,
[…] leaue reuenge behind, and thou shalt feel't.

Soran.

Yet tell mee cre thou dyest, and tell mee truely,
Knowes thy old Father this?

Anna.

No by my life.

Soran.

Wilt thou confesse, and I will spare thy life?

Anna.

My life? I will not buy my life so deare.

Soran.

I will not slacke my Ve[…]geance.

Vas.

What d'ee meane Sir?

Soran.

Forbeare Vasques, such a damned Whore
Deserues no pitty.

Vas.

Now the gods forefend!
And wud you be her executioner, and kill her in your rage too? O 'twere most vn-manlike; shee is your wife, what faults hath beene done by her before she married you, were not against you; alas Poore Lady, what hath shee committed, which any Lady in Italy in the like case would not? Sir, you must be ru[…]ed by your reason, and not by your fury, that were vnhumane and beastly.

Soran.

Shee shall not liue.

Vas.

Come shee must; you would haue her confesse the Authors of her present misfortu[…]es I warrant'ee, 'tis an vnconscionable demand, and shee should loose the estimation that I (for my part) hold of her worth, if shee had done it; why sir you ought not of all men liuing to know it: good sir bee reconciled, alas good gentlewoman.

Anna.

Pish, doe not beg for mee, I prize my life
As nothing; if The man will needs bee madd.
Why let him take it.

Soran.

Vasques, hear'st thou this?

Vas.

Yes, and commend her for it; in this shee shews the noblenesse of a gallant spirit, and beshrew my heart, but it becomes her rarely—Sir, in any case smother your reuenge; leaue the senting out your wrongs to mee, bee rul'd[…] as you respect your honour, or you marr all—Sir, if euer my seruice were of any Credit with you, be not so violent in your distractions: you are married now; what a tryumph might the report of this giue to other neglected Sutors, 'tis as manlike to beare extremities, as godlike to forgiue.

Soran.

O Vasques, Vasques, in this peece of flesh,
This faithlesse face of hers, had I layd vp
The treasure of my heart; hadst thou beene vertuous
(Faire wicked woeman) not the matchlesse ioyes
Of Life it selfe had made mee wish to liue
With any Saint but thee; Deceitfull Creature,
How hast thou mock't my hopes, and in the shame
Of thy lewd wombe, euen buried mee aliue?
I did too dearely loue thee.

Vas.

This is well;
Follow this temper with some passion,
Aside.
Bee briefe and mouing, 'tis for the purpose.

Soran.

Be witnesse to my words thy soule and thoughts,
And tell mee didst not thinke that in my heart,
I did too superstitiously adore thee.

Anna.

I must confesse, I know you lou'd mee well.

Soran.

And wouldst thou vse mee thus? O Annabella,
Bee thus assur'd, whatsor're the Villaine was,
That thus hath tempted thee to This disgrace,
Well hee might lust, but neuer lou'd like mee:
Hee doated on the picture that hung out
Vpon thy cheekes, to please his humourous eye;
Not on the part I lou'd, which was thy heart,
And as I thought, thy Vertues.

Anna.

O my Lord!
These words wound deeper then your Sword could do.

Vas.

Let mee not euer take comfort, but I begin to weepe my selfe, so much I pitty him; why Madam I knew when his rage was ouer-past, what it would come to.

Soran.

Forgiue mee Annabella, though thy youth
Hath tempted thee aboue thy strength to folly,
Yet will not I forget what I should bee,
And what I am, a husband; in that name
Is hid Deuinity; if I doe finde
That thou wilt yet be true, here I remit all former faults, and take thee to my bosome.

Vas.

By my troth, and that's a poynt of noble charity.

Anna.

Sir on my knees—

Soran.

Rise vp, you shall not kneele,
Get you to your chamber, see you make no shew
Of alteration, I[…]le be with you streight;
My reason tells mee now, that 'Tis as common
To erre in frailty as to bee a woeman,
Goe to your chamber.

Vas.

So, this was somewhat to the matter; what doe you thinke of your heauen of happinesse now sir?

Soran.

I carry hell about mee, all my blood
Is fir'd in swift reuenge.

Vas.

That may bee, but know you how, or on whom? alas, to marry a great woeman, being made great in the stocke to your hand, is a vsuall sport in these dayes; but to know what Secret it was that haunted your Cunny-berry, there's the cunning.

Soran.

I'le make her tell her selfe, or—

Vas.

Or what? you must not doeso, let me yet perswade your sufferance a little while, goe to her, vse her mildly, winne her if it be possible to a Voluntary, to a weeping tune; for the rest, if all hitt, I will not misse my marke; pray sir goe in, the next news I tell you shall be wonders.

Soran.

Delay in vengeance giues a heauyer blow.
Exit.

Vas,

Ah sirrah, here's worke for the nonce; I had a suspicion of a bad matter in my head a pretty whiles agoe; but after My Madams scuruy lookes here at home, her waspish peruersnesse, and loud fault-finding, then I remembred the Prouerbe, that Where Hens crowe, and Cocks hold their peace, there are sorry houses; sfoot, if the lower parts of a Shee-taylors Cunning, can couer such a swelling in the stomacke, I'le neuer blame a false stich in a shoe whiles I li[…]e againe; vp and vp so quicke? and so quickly too? 'twere a fine policy to lear[…]e by whom this must be knowne: and I haue thought on't—here's the way or none—what crying old Mistresse! alas, alas, I cannot blame 'ee, wee haue a Lord, Heauen helpe vs, is so madde as the devill himselfe, the more shame for him.

Put.

O Vasques, that euer I was borne to see this day,
Doth hee vse thee so too, sometimes Vasques?

Vas.

Mee? why hee makes a dogge of mee; but if some were of my minde, I know what wee would doe; as sure as I am an honest man, hee will goe neere to kill my Lady with vnkindnesse; say shee be with-child, is that such a matter for a young woeman of her yeeres, to be blam'd for?

Put.

Alas good heart, it is against her will full sore.

Vas.

I durst be sworne, all his madnesse is, for that shee will not confesse whose 'tis, which hee will know, and when he doth know it, I am so well acquainted with his humour, that hee will forget all streight; well I could wish, shee would in plaine termes tell all, for that's the way indeed.

Put.

Doe you thinke so?

Vas.

Fo, I know't; prouided that hee did not winne her to't by force, hee was once in a mind, that you could tell, and ment to haue w[…]ung it out of you, but I somewhat pacified him for that[…] yet sure you know a great, deale.

Put.

Heauen forgiue vs all, I know a little Vasques.

Vas.

Why should you not? who else should? vpon my Conscience shee loues you dearely, and you would not betray her to any affliction for the world.

Put.

Not for all the world by my Faith and troth Vasques.

Vas.

'Twere pitty of your life if you should, but In this you should both releiue her present discomforts, pacifie my Lord, and gaine your selfe euer lasting loue and preferment.

Put.

Do'st thinke so Vasques?

Vas.

Nay I know't; sure 'twas some neere and entire friend.

Put.

'T was a deare friend indeed; but—

Vas.

But what? feare not to name him: my life betweene you and danger; faith I thinke 'twas no base Fellow.

Put.

Thou wilt stand betweene mee and harme[…]?

Vas.

V'ds pitty, what else; you shalbe rewarded too; trust me.

Put.

'Twas euen no worse then her owne brother.

Vas.

Her brother Giouanni I warrant'ee?

Put.

Euen hee Vasques; as braue a Gentleman as euer kist faire Lady; O they loue most perpetually.

Vas.

A braue Gentleman indeed, why therein I Commend her choyce—better and better—you are sure 'twas hee?

Put.

Sure; and you shall'see hee will not be long from her too.

Vas.

He were to blame if he would: but may I beleeue thee?

Put.

Beleeue mee! why do'st thinke I am a Turke or a Iew? no Vasques, I haue knowne their dealings too long to belye them now.

Vas.

Where are you? there within sirs?

Put.

How now, what are these?

Vas.

You shall know presently,
Come sirs, take mee This old Damnable hagge,
Gag her instant[…]y, and put out her eyes, quickly, quickly.

Put.

Vasques, Vasques.

Vas.

Gag her I say sf[…]ot d'ee suffer her to prate? what d'ee fumble about? let mee come to her, I'le helpe your old gums, you Toad-bellied bi[…]ch; sirs, carry her closely into the Coalehouse, and put out her eyes instantly, if shee roares, slitt her nose; d'ee heare, bee speedy and sure. Why this is excellent and aboue expectation. Exit with Putana. Her owne brother? O horrible! to what a height of liberty in damnation hath the Deuill trayn'dour age, her Brother, well; there's yet but a beginning, I must to my Lord, and tutor him better in his points of vengeance; now I see how a smooth tale goes beyond a smooth tayle, but soft,— what thing comes next?
Enter Giouanni.
Giouanni! as I would wish; my beleefe is strengthned,
'Tis as firme as Winter and Summer.

Gio.

Where's my Sister?

Vas.

Troubled with a new sicknes my Lord she's somwhat ill.

Gio.

T[…]th too much of the flesh I beleeue.

Vas.

T[…]th sir and you I thinke hauee'ne hitt it,
But My vertuous Lady.

Gio.

Where's shee?

Vas.

In her chamber; please you visit her; she is alone, your liberality hath doubly made me your seruant, and euer shal euer— Exit Gio. Sir, I am made a man, I haue plyed my Cue with cunning Enter Soranzo. and successe, I beseech you let's be priuate.

Soran,

My Ladyes brother's come, now hee'le know all.

Vas.

Let him know't, I haue made some of them fast enough,
How haue you delt with my Lady?

Soran[…]

Gently, as thou hast counsail'd; O my soule
Runs circular in sorrow for reuenge,
But Vasques, thou shalt know—

Vas.

Nay, I will know no more; for now comes your turne to know; I would not talke so openly with you: Let my young Maister take time enough, and goe at pleasure; hee is sold to death, and the Deuill shall not ransome him, Sir I beseech you, your priuacy.

Soran.

No Conquest can gayne glory of my feare.
Exit.