Scena prima.
Enter Duke, Iulia, Rosania, Hippolyto, with
Attendants, and Flourish.
Duk.
WEe'l hear no more in his defence:
Did not our cousen's speedy
flight upon
His banishment, confirm
both guilty?
Hip.
Your pardon, I have done.
Iul.
Yet (gratious Sir)—
Duk.
Sister, desist from the renovation of
our vain petition, formerly deny'd,
or many weighty reasons, still retaining
Their necessary virtue; and employ
Your urgent prayers for somewhat, that may
win
Our free consent, yet not detract from justice:
And, what our power can give, be confident
You may command. But, for Pausanio's doom,
It was decreed irrevocable; then
Presse not our resolution for remission.
But with his punishment, behold his crime,
And you will find Justice, when't sentenc'd
him,
Was more then mercifull, our stricter Lawes
Exacting life, whose rigour we appeas'd
With gentler banishment. Let it suffice,
That your quotidian intercession hath
Mov'd us to such a mercy, as the most
Will rather censure partiality,
(His ill is known so well). And by your fair
Perswasions, do not seek in the worlds eye,
To make us impious. Our transmarine friends,
(The still admirers of our purer Lawes,)
Do not more seek for peace, then desire us
A precedent for their perverted justice,
Whose bright sword w'have so continued from
Th' infectious rust of innovation; and must do so.
Therefore (vertuous sister)
Presse it no farther. Fate, in its decree,
Is not more fix'd, more resolute than we.
Iul.
I have taught my busie tongue an obedient
silence;
Yet, were your eyes spectatours of those tears,
Those tear-begetting tears, my sad-sweet friend
Hourly paies her fathers memory,
'T would mollifie your heart, (thought
on't doth mine)
[weeps
Were your kind ears th' attentive auditors
Of her faint sighes, and you not eccho them,
Your heart were heartlesse rock. Oh Sir, vouchsafe
Her greife but hearing, and her sweet-tongu'd sorrow,
Will charm your restrained pitty.
Duk.
What, statuiz'd Hippolyto?
Hip.
No, royall Sir, a little womaniz'd,
I suck'd it from my mother, and 'twill out.
We are not made of marble, but are men.
And, but I know your zeal to sacred Justice,
I should (with hope t'obtain) presume to beg
Compassion, with her Highnesse, from your Majestie,
For the late exil'd father, of that yet sorrowing
Lady.—
But—
Duk.
But what, Hippolito? Recollect thy self;
Pausanio was thine enemy.
Hip.
But how deserv'd, omniscient heaven
can witnesse,
Best knowing the religious sympathy
•
have with his sad sufferings.
Duk.
Spend not the least of thy too pretious
thoughts
On such a worthlesse subject. Let him suffer,
And unpi
•
tyed. His meer ingratitude to thee,
Setting aside his great offence,
Is offence great enough to pull down an affliction
Beo
•
nd infliction: he suffers worthily.
No more of him.—Yet, sister—
Hip.
Ha! surely his resolution cannot so soon
stagger:
[aside.
Pray heaven it prove so, or all my plots miscarry,
And I am miserable.
Iul.
I use my possibility; but alasse,
To one, whose griefs distract her, comfort is,
As Physick to the dead, effectlesse:
Who by sage counsell, would suppresse her sorrow,
Are heard, but not regarded. Fruitlesse are
The hours spent in perswasion. But who sooths
Her melancholly with fair hopes, that time
May repossesse her Father, with his yet lost honours,
Not, alone, attracts her eye and ear,
But gaines her heart.
Hipol.
Oh blest intelligence!
[aside
Duk.
Trust me, I pitty the poor Lady, and
wish,
Her lavish fathers prodigality,
T'enrich her brother, and her fair self with vertue,
Had not forc'd him turne bankrupt.
Her then needlesse sighs,
Had not rais'd up such floods of cruell tears,
To drown her joyes. We wore him in our breast,
Whilst loyall; but, when he left his vertue,
We cast him off, dreading a further danger.
But for those pair of spotlesse innocents,
His children, they still survive, receiving
Warmth from the sun-shine of our favour,
Which they enjoy deservedly: Martiano
Hath a spirit, as bold,
As temperately resolute, which we must cherish;
And his sisters; souls,
(Like a huge Diamond in a mount of Ore)
As rich in vertue, as her exteriour parts in pulchritudes
perfection.
Hip.
Though't be pure truth, from him I
like it not.
[aside.
Duk.
Pray let her have all due respect from you,
As she shall have from us.
Iul.
Her merits challenge more, then my performance
Can pay her vertue, though my endeavour's aim
Be wholly for her griev'd hearts tranquillity.
Duk
When next you see this sorrow-clouded
Beauty,
Let her sweet sadnesse know, our selfe in person,
Before expected, will perswasions bring,
To alienate her griefs.
Iul.
Gratious Sir, I shall.
Duk.
Come my Hippolito.
Exeunt
Enter Fumante dressing, and Carlo.
Fum.
Laugh'd at'm?
Car.
Oh sir, extreamly—she laugh'd untill
she leak'd, she wept with laughing.
Fum.
It could not be, at them; they were too
serious; upon mine honour, I ne're compos'd a
copy of more pure poetry, and drest in such rich
language; in my opinion, they were exquisite
Car.
No doubt, Sir, and yet she might laugh
at'em. Our women of this age are growne so
wise, that what we think meritorious, they believe
ridiculous; and sometimes it falls out so,
they erre not ever.
Fum.
Pugh! the style was too lofty, and the
conceit tickelish and profound; her weak capacity
could not reach the meaning.
Car.
It may be so: What was the subject?
Fum.
Her selfe the generall, and every part particulariz'd.
Car.
Why there's it; will you tickle a womans
profundity with a lofty style, and she not laugh
at the conceit? it is impossible.
Fum.
Well, I do hope to nose Vatimius yet,
and marry fair Rosania my self.
Car.
And leave the Lady Dianetta to wear the
willow?
Fum.
No, I'le court her for a Mistresse, the
other for a Wife
•
'tis providently usuall—
Who's that knocks?
[knocks.
Some needy Tailor in his
Exit Carlo.
Apprentises thread-bare cloak; or Seamster, in
pittifull foul linnen, is come (with lamentation)
to woo for mony.
Enter Carlo.
Car.
Signior, your Shoo-maker, very importunate,
desires some short conference with
you.
Fum.
Say
•
'me abroad.
Car.
Sir, it boots not, he knowes your constant
hour too well; saies, you are ne'r caparrison'd
till twelve.
Fum.
Tell him, he's a rogue, and he lies.
Car.
Not I, Sir, 'twill bear an action; call a
man a rogue for telling truth! If you have not
what he comes for, money, at least give him
good words.
Fum.
I never shall endure his importunity.
Car.
I have a present means to
give him suddain motion.—
cuts one of his boots cross the toe.
Fum.
What do'st mean?
Car.
So now, be angry, that the straitnesse of
your boot, forced you to cut it, or you could
not have worn 'em: and seem
impatient.
Exit Carlo, and reenters with the Shoomaker.
Fum.
Let me alone.
Shoo.
Good-morrow to your Worship.
Fum.
In good time, Sir. What? you come for
money, but are like to go without. Pox on your
neat work; I must cut new boots, or cannot
wear 'em; besides, incur my Lord's displeasure;
who verry now in great haste sent for me. Another
would return 'em on your hands, but I am mercifull,
and you know it well enough, therefore
presume: but have a care, for if this trade hold,
you'l quickly break.
Car.
I am afraid so.
[aside.
Shoo.
Sir, I desire your pardon for these, your
next shall make amends.
Fum.
They shall? and when?
Shoo.
By tomorrow this time.
Fum.
Go to, fail not, if you fail me, I'le fail
you.
[Exit Shoom.
Car.
Nay, that's sure enough.
[aside.
Fum.
Thou necessary villain; let me hug thee.
Car.
Peugh, this is nothing, I have seen a hundred
of these tricks in Town. Now must you
make a vertue of necessity, and neatly tie it up
with this new fashion'd Ribband; and, ere tomorrow
at night, 'twill prove a fashion.
Ties it up, and puts on his Boot.
Fum.
Excellent Carlo! Again? who's
there now? But 'tis no matter, now
I know the trick on't, I shall be even
with some more of ye.
Carlo goes out, and re enters.
Car.
The Lord Hipolito hath sent for you.
Fum.
I attend.
Exeunt.
Enter Martiano and Ausonius.
Mar.
Tax not my courage (dearest friend) I
dare
As much, as man; when warranted by vertue.
The day's not more antipatheticall
To night, then my bold Soul to coward Fear.
But oft we see temerity o'rethrow,
What wise delay might have prevented.
Protraction is not ever dangerous,
But sometimes advantageous; nor is
My sure revenge remitted, 'cause deferr'd:
No, no, it vegetates, and when mature,
With ease, I'l shake the vengefull fruit, that bears
A certain ruine with it, upon the heads
Of the conspirators, and all at once
Crush them to dust. But my designe, as yet, is
green.
Aus.
I not suspect your courage, Martiano,
But tardity
•
for, though our Proverb saith,
He that goes slow goes sure; yet, he that hastes,
Hath first his ends. I can but counsell you,
And proffer my assistance.
Mart.
Both which, Ausonius, I accept with
gratitude:
I may have just occasion to put
Your noble friendship to a tryall:
Till when, I ever shall acknowledge
The great engagement my demerit hath
Unto your goodnesse.
Aus.
Do, put me to the proof;
Then shall my actions speak my reall heart
Better, then my harsh tongne, unpractique in
The ceremonious falsities of France,
(So much in fashion with our antick age.)
My All is thine, and when I prove perfidious,
Kill me; till then, trust me.
Mar.
Thou art all constant goodnesse, and my
Friend.
In that poor Monosyllable, th'inestimable riches
Of our love, lies thesauriz'd.
Aus.
Importunate affaires which envy me
The pleasure of thy company, exact
Me, for some few houres.
Be circumspect, and underneath your thoughts,
Your secretest thoughts, let our discourse ly
couch'd;
There's danger in the appearance. Passion
Too often drives man beyond his reason;
And a rash tongue betraies a resolv'd heart.
Good counsell's ever seasonable. Be wise.
And diffident. Hippolitus feign'd friendship
Portends no good, his aime's beyond your reach.
Be confident, your fathers enemy
Can never be your reall friend, his tongue
And heart must needs be dissonant.
Credit not his soft language; for most sweet
The Syrens sing, when they intend to slay.
Be firm in your revenge, th'injurious wrongs
Of good Pausanio cry loud for't; let him have't.
Mart.
Could I conceive his injuries grew from
that root of
Malice, I would—
Aus.
You are not ignorant, 'tis more then
whisper'd
Mart
Were he the man, though skulk'd in
some obscure
And unknown cavern, i'th remotest part
Of the wide Universe, my impetuous rage,
More swift and terrible than lightning,
Soon would finde him out;
And soon as found, dissect him into Atoms,
Which my just hand should dissipate about
His silent Mansion, that the guiltlesse earth
(Abhorring such commixture) might intreat
The furious justice of some stormy gust,
To snatch his ashes from her purer dust.
And hurry them to hell.
Auso.
Passion transports him.—Reassume
your reason,
And once again be vigilant.
Exit Ausonius.
Mart.
My thoughts afflict me, sure it cannot
be,
Hippolito should wear so smooth a brow
•
And have a craggy heart; experience
Yet often proves the contrary. The Sea,
But now calm as a standing Lake, flattering
The secure Mariner, in few minutes space,
Furrowes his front, and threatens him with
wrack.
And 'mong a thousand seeming friends, 'tis rare
To finde one pair, whose meaning's their expression,
'Mong formall friends; then what can I expect
From a known enemy? Ha!—
•
tis doubtfull—
But my revenge must not be idly grounded,
Upon sleight thought, but fundamentall truth.
I would not for the world, blur my pure soul
With any black mistake;—yet
•
'le suspect
what may be,
And 'tis wisdome; hastie fooles
Build on the
•
ottile-sand of self-opinion,
Whilst th' patient prudent laugh at their sad
ruine.
I must make farther tryall, then if I find
Him guilty, I'l soon ease my troubled mind.
Exit Martiano.
Enter Hippolito, solus.
Hip.
I'm now securely fix'd in the Duke's
bosome,
My power equalls his; his greater title
Onely distinguisheth. So politick Syres,
T'advance their sons low fortunes, by a Match
Deserving better, let them bear the name
And glorious sound of Land lord, when th'entrado
Runs th'old course into their Coffers.
'Tis my command that executes, the Duke
But countenanceth the act. Petitions flock to me,
And, as my pleasure shall decree, are granted or
oppos'd.
I've drest my selfe in such humility,
That all mens hearts are mine. Our neighbour
Cardinall,
(That favour'd Prelate) from th' opressed people,
Hath not more hourly imprecations,
Than I prayers, smiles, and obsequious cringes
What content, to perfect my beatitude, affords
The world that's yet deficient,
But beauteous Lucebella? the rich crown
Of all my joyes, for whose unvalu'd love
My honour lies at stake, nay, my dear life,
Were I discover'd: whose willfull Father
Despis'd my humble suites, and with denyall
(Cold as a Northern congelation)
Nip'd my then germinating hopes; besides,
When but a Neophyte in our Masters favour,
Malitiously he sought t' eclipse my glory
With a cloud of ruine; which to retalliate,
My timely plots have sent him far enough;
Yet knowes he not who hurt him. So wise men
Vengeance take, whilst th'inconsiderate fool
Threatens, and failes. Pausanio I am now
Above thy malice, and resolv'd to win
Thy peerlesse daughter, or grow old
in sin.
to him,
•
umante
Fum.
Summon'd by your command, (my honour'd
Lord)
My ever-ready dutie brought me, to wait upon
you pleasure.
Hipol.
Fumante, thus in short
•
I have perceived, and oft, your jealous eye
Hath glanc'd at Dianetta more of late,
Than any other Lady of the Court.
Fum.
My Lord!—
Hip.
And she deserves respect, she's fair; besides,
You have enjoy'd with freedome a vouchsafty,
That others dare not hope for, many hours
Of sweet discourse with her, a certain symptom
Of mutuall affection—You are happy,
Whilst I—
Fum.
My Lord, I've many Mistresses;
But, who's most courteous, she predominates.
Hip.
No jealously, Fumante,
I know the boundlesse love you bear her, and
The power you have with her; how that your
absence
Doth not more torture her afflicted soul,
Than presence hilarate her heart. Therefore
I sent for thee, on whom my hopes depend:
For now's the time wherein thou maist expresse
Thy gratitude, for all my liberall favours,
Profusely shewr'd on thee: Nay more, endear
Me to thy love, and our two soules unite,
For perpetuity.
Fum.
(I scent the project, he would
inoculate.
[aside.
Now must I turn pimp,—hum—well:
Would I were the first had undergone,
That now much practised function for a Patron.
'Tis a familiar age
For you, (my gratious Lord) to whose great
bounty
I owe more, than the too-short remnant of my
life
I wish to live, that my whole care and study,
Employ'd for your contentment may effect it.
Hip.
Gratefull Fumante! Oh—my troubled
breast,
Doth nourish flaming sulphure.
Fum.
Wee
•
l have it quench'd, and speedily.
Her quick rolling eyes are characters of kindnesse.
Th' other day, (speaking of my Verses) she said,
My words were charmes, and that the Lady must
be
Insensible,—of stone,—that could withstand
my method—
I'le put her to the proof—Courage my Lord!
The Lady's yours
Hip.
Mercy pronounced to the Delinquent,
bears
Nothing so sweet a sound,—I am all joy—
Dearest Fumante!—imagination
Of what's to come, transports me—prethee
how,
How, my Fumante? enform me of the way.
Fum.
With admiration, often I have heard
Her speak your merit, and affirm, the Duke
Look'd with her eyes, when his election made
Your worthy selfe the object of his favours.
Hip.
On!—prethee on!
Fum.
The Court (not without cause) might
boast of you;
For Florence, nor the world, could e'r produce
Your Honour's parallel.
Hip.
My hopes best comfort! On.
Fum.
Added t'your gifts of nature, goodl
•
feature,
Were those of the minde, sound judgment, temper'd
vallour,
Relieving bounty, and humility,
Attracting hearts: in fine all graces, which
Requir'd are, to make a man compleat,
Unanimousl
•
flock'd into your breast,
As to th
•
ir proper center, and there fixed, dwell.
Hip.
Oh! I shall surfeit with excesse of joy.
Fum.
Were't possible, her willing tongue could
stretch
A praise beyond deserving, you should hav't;
Which is a proof sufficient she affects you.
N
•
w 'twere a necessary policy, my Lord,
To tickle her in th'ear with th'like report,
From you, concerning her, it cannot chuse but
take:
And if that fail her mean condition,
Being far beneath your honours;
Large promises, (lusts sugred bait) and some
•
erformance,
(The life of expectation) will forcibly prevail.
Despair not, for the stuff we have to work on, is
Malleable—My Lord, she is a woman.
Hip.
Whom means Fumante?
Fum.
Fair Dianetta.
Hip.
Dianetta?
Fum.
Yes: was't not she your honour spake of?
Hip.
Erroneous apprehension, dull Fumante,
Thy jealousie, and my credulity,
Equally fool us. My now present griefs,
Exceed my late imaginary joyes—
Why did my rage procure the Generall's banishment?
Was't not for beauteous Luc
•
bella's love?
Fum.
Your Lordships word obliged me to believe
so.
Hip.
'Tis a pure truth, then turn not an Apostate:
For my sublime soul fix'd in the pure heaven
Of her transcendent beauty, (where doth shine
The glory of perfection) disdaines
Inferiour community.
Fum.
Your naming Dianetta, made me
Suppose the contrary. For, we of the Court
Are rarely bondslaves into constancy.
Hip.
'Tis a confess'd fault, would 'twere amended.
But now take my intentionst
My vertuous fair, with much impatiency,
Brooks her lov'd father's absence, and admits
Of no society, but sadnesse, whilst
My grief-swoln heart doth languish.
Now to avoid suspition (for I doubt
Martiano's haughty spirit) and to confirm
Me in her good opinion, with haste,
Repair to Dianetta, that she, through you—
Fum.
Now I conceive: may give intelligence
To Lucibella, of the constant faith
You have vow'd unto her goodnesse—
Hip.
Right—and withall,
(For this point is the soul of my designe)
How my assiduous supplication is,
To impetrate the Dukes remission for Pausanio.
Let her speak comfort plentifully, for
Thus assure her, I'le never cease my suit,
Till I obtain his gracious grant. Do this, and—
Fum.
And more, (my Lord)
Be confidently cheerfull, and expect,
Ere long, a prosperous issue.
Exit Fuman
Hip.
Go, and kinde fate wait on thee, if she
prove
Kind, I am too great, ever to know remove
Exit Hipolito.
Enter Vatinius and Iacamo.
Vat.
Love hath a strange consuming
faculty,
Vatinius wit
•
a ribbon tie
•
upon his boot as had Fum.
Wastes not alone the spirits, but
the purse.
Variety of change, will shortly make me
Change variety. It hath cost me, since that I
First made love unto Rosania, at least
Two thousand pistolls in very clothes; and
Yet she cannot fancy me; 'tis strange—I
I wear 'em well enough—ha!
Iac.
Yes, Sir;
(For I can get none of'em till they be
[aside
Past wearing.
Vat.
And
My judicious Tailor tells me, I become my
cloths.
I'm open to thy view, deliver thy opinion.
Iac.
Faith, Sir, your cloths become you.
Vat.
Your cloathes become you,
villain.
[kicks him.
He swears, that the compaction of my body is
beyond
Compare, and takes delight to look upon my
waste.
Iac.
(I cannot blame him, he lives by
your great waste.)
[aside.
Vat.
And yet, your clothes become you!
Iac.
Your Pardon, Sir; the phrase is usuall.
Vat.
Use it no more, because it is so: When
any thing is
Common, it is worthlesse.
Iac.
That's a Court Maxim.
[aside.
Vat.
Go, Sir, discharge the Taylor
presently
gives Iac. a key.
•
will not, as most Gallants do, still spend,
Whilst I have where with all, but pay,
That when I want to spend, then spend I may.
Iac.
Per-lady, no small pollicy.
Exit Iac.
Vat.
This suites the forward issue of a new
fashion; yet, am I almost confident, she'l make it
elder by a month, then that I gave my man a
year since. Well, I must humour her; but if she
continue thus, when we are married, we must
wear my woods upon our backs, or (like thTortoise)
carry our houses about us. 'Tis rue
mor'd, I shall have her, which I've confirmed,
although she never made me any promise, and I
strongly believe 't; for I am tearmed the object of
the Ladies, and the exact Courtier: Should it go
otherwise, I should be bravely laugh'd at. But I'le
to her, and know a certainty, for I can scarcely
hold out any longer.
[to him, Honorio.
Hon.
Vatinus, well mett
•
So early ready? and
so quaintly drest? Trust me, this is not ordinary,
but I suppose, the Dukes intended visit to Lucibella,
with the Princesse, with whom Rosania
goes, occasioned this unaccustomed expedition.
Vat.
I do confesse ingenuously, it did!
But I must wait. My Lord, your humble servant.
Exit Vat
•
nius.
Hon.
That such a solid judgment, and sweet
beauty,
Should rashly throw the treasure of her love
On a meer glorious outside, troubles me past
wonder.
Imperious love! placest thou charmes in clothes?
Are gay apparell, and a rich-loind purse,
Such powerfull attractions? Yes, 'tis plain:
Whilst the reward of vertue's cold disdain.
When I discover'd my religious flame,
With an unfained passion, and my soul
Almost expiring with each heartless sigh;
What answer, but, she pittyed me: whilst he
Must quaff the Cordiall, that should comfort me.
Women, your love admits no other Lawes,
But this, ye love not therefore,
but because
[to him, Martiano.
By this, my Lord the Duke is on the way,
To pay his promised visit to your sister.
Mart.
She'l take your personall information,
for an honour.
Hon.
'Tis the least service I can pay her
merit.
[Exit Honorio.
Mart.
There goes an honest Lord; and, but
Ausonius,
There's scarce another in the Court.
Where might a man turn his eye to finde a
third?
[to him, Hipolito.
Torment unto my blood, Hipolito.
Hipol.
(His rising must prevent my
fall
•
he shall
speaking unto himself.
Be Generall—hal 'tis concluded: and see a
Most opportune recountre.)
What, wedded still to sadnesse, Martiano; ever
alone?
Mart.
Better alone, then ill accompanied.
Hip.
How's this?
Mart.
My honest thoughts are constant subjects to
My upright soul; Treason and Adulation
Were ne'r known to them. You'l say, 'tis strange,
But 'tis a simple truth. Now should I slack
The awefull reins, and let 'm rove, they might
Rebell, having so great a precedent (my Lord.)
Hib.
Is this disjoynted talke to us? know
you; who we ar
•
?
Mart.
Disjoynted talke to us? know you, who
we are?
Yes: I do know, Hipolito: our names have b
•
t
an equall sound.
Hipol.
However, more manners and lesse familiarity.
Would well become you; else you will grow
contemptible.
Mart.
More manners lesse familiarity; contemptible?
(draw.
My potent arme (where in the purple bloud,
Of wrong'd Pausanio lively flowes)
Shall chastise thy mad folly, and maintaine
My fathers Son the Nobler—now's the time
for trial.
(aside
Who (though unjustly exil'd) hath a brest
Harbouring more reall worth then the carv'd
Monuments of all thy decease'd Ancestors
Can bragge off—heaven he weeps!
(aside.
This may be but delusion—on!
What though you be our Masters Minnion?
That doth not lend addition to your bloud,
'Tis Vertue that enobles; every way
I am at worst, your equal; which deny'd.
Let our impartial swords the cause d
•
cide.
What meanes Hipolito?
Hipol.
I never hear your banished Father nam'd,
But griefe through my kind eyes, evaporates,
The sad mist from my kinder heart, and leaves
It obvious.
Mart.
This cannot be dissembling—
(aside
My Lord your pardon! my rash credulity,
And filiall love to parent,
Enforc'd my heart to a foule misconstruction,
How that your power which the Duke contriv'd
My fathers sad remove; the reason, this:
Because you held him for an Enemy;
And in a suppos'd just revenge, I thought
To kill you; yet not ignobly.
Hip.
Adulterated age! Monstrous ingratitude!
Is my so noble friendship, pious sorrow,
Uncessant mediation, all my services,
Both to, and for your father, thus rewarded?
Arme! for I'le teach thy rage a better temper—
(draw.
Was it for this? my long continued pray'rs,
For your advance (yet untill now effectlesse)
At length, have wone the yeelding Duke to
make
Your worthlesse-selfe his generall? nay brought
His Royall person to confirme it on you,
Brought him an honour to your habitation,
For this?—but I tryffle—betake you
to your
Guard
•
Why do you not put forward?
Doth abject feare restrain your fury?
Ma
•
.
No 'tis a thing I hate, as I do love
True vallour
•
the late War proclaim'd it: nor
Because you'r f
•
vourit to the Duke for could,
It enter in my thought, you wrong'd my father?
Were you Jove's Ganymed? my noble anger
Would force mere attempt high-heav'ns invasion,
And from th' O
•
ympicke thunders riffled armes
Throw headlong my revenge to
•
artarus.
H
•
p.
O
•
—thou'st damned spirit
(aside.
M
••
t.
T
•
prosecute sweet vengeance,
I could do things, me thinks impossible:
B
•••
u
••
less be that hand, usurps a sword;
A
•
ainst a friend! now I am calme, and beg,
What must not be denyed, your goodnesse pard
•
n;
And, henceforth, I vow to weare you next my
soul.
Hip.
First—Nay, pray receive my
sword!
{Proffers his Sword.
And if you doubt of my reality?
Rippe up my brest, where you shall find a heart
Worthy your friendship.
Mart.
Kind Sir, enough: I am all faith—The
Princess.
{
•
o them, Iulia.
Iulia.
Martiano, the Duke, within
expects you.
Mart.
Madam, I attend.
Julia.
The Lord Hipolito will deserve your
love,
Whose faithfull mediation hath accompanied
Our long important suit, for th' old Generall.
Exit Julia
Hipol.
As sent from heav'n.
[aside.
Mart.
This confirmes all the rest:
What devil suggested me to this mistake?
Once more, Sir, your forgivenesse?
Hip.
Martiano, take it, and a friend! but hence
Let reason rule, and not be rul'd by sense
(Exeunt.
Desinit Actus primus.