Part 14

_Duke._ What waste of blood, what tumults, what divisions, What outrages, what uprores in a State, Factions, though issuing from mean springs at first, Have (not restrain'd) flowed to, the sad example At _Rome_, between the _Ursins_ and _Columni's_: Nay, here at home, in _Florence_, 'twixt the _Neers_ And the _Bianchi_, can too mainly witness. I sit not at the Helm (my Lords) of Sovereignty Deputed Pilot for the Common-wealth, To sleep while others steere (as their wild fancies Shall counsel) by the compass of disorders. _Baptista_, This short Preface is directed Chiefly to you, the petty brawls and quarrels Late urg'd betwixt th' _Alberti_ and your family; Must, yes, and shall, like tender unknit joynts, Fasten again together of themselves: Or like an angry Chyrurgion, we will use The roughness of our justice, to cut off The stubborn rancour of the limbes offending.

_Bap._ Most gracious _Florence_.

_Duke._ Our command was signified, That neither of the followers of each party Should appear here with weapons.

_Bap._ 'Tis obey'd Sir, on my side.

_Duke._ We must leave the general cause Of State employments, to give ear to brawls Of some particular grudges, pollitick government For tutor'd Princes, but no more henceforth.

_Enter_ Mariana, _and_ Clarissa _at one door_, Cesario _at the other_.

Our frown shall check presumption, not our clemency.

_Mari._ All blessings due to unpartial Princes, Crown _Florence_ with eternity of happiness.

_Cesar._ If double Prayers can double blessings (great Sir) Mine joyn for your prosperity with my Mothers.

_Duke._ Rise both; now briefly (Lady) without circumstance Deliver those agrievances, which lately Your importunity possest our Counsel, Were fit for audience, wherein you petition'd, You might be heard without an Advocate, Which boon you find is granted.

_Mari._ Though divided. I stand between the Laws of truth and modesty, Yet let my griefs have vent: Yet the clearness Of strange necessity requires obedience To nature and your Mercy, in my weeds Of mourning, emblems of too dear misfortunes, Badges of griefs, and Widdowhood, the burthen Of my charg'd soul, must be laid down before you; Wherein, if strict opinion cancel shame, My frailty is my plea; Stand forth young Man, And hear a story that will strike all reason Into amazement.

_Cesar._ I attend.

_Mar. Alberto_ (peace dwell upon his ashes) still the husband Of my remembrance and unchanging vowes, Has, by his death, left to his heir possession Of fair revenew, which this young man claimes As his inheritance. I urg'd him gently, Friendly, and privately, to grant a partage Of this estate to her who ownes it all, This his supposed Sister.

_Bap._ How supposed?

_Cesar._ Pray _Madam_ recollect your self.

_Mar._ The relish Of a strange truth begins to work like Physick Already: I have bitterness to mingle With these preparatives, so deadly loathsome; It will quite choak digestion; shortly hear it _Cesario_, for I dare not rob unjustly The poor soul of his name; this, this _Cesario_ Neither for Father had _Alberto_, me For Mother, nor _Clarissa_ for his Sister.

_Claris._ Mother, O Mother.

_Ment._ I am in a Dream sure.

_Duke._ No interruptions. Lady on.

_Mari._ Mistake not, Great Duke of _Tuscany_, or the beginning Or process of this novelty; my husband The now deceas'd _Alberto_, from his youth In-ur'd to an impatiency, and roughness Of disposition, when not many months After our Marriage were worn out, repin'd At the unfr[u]itful barrenness of youth, Which, as he pleas'd to terme it, cut our hopes off From blessing of some issue; to prevent it I grew ambitious of no fairer honor Than to preserve his love, and as occasions Still call'd him from me, studied in his absence How I might frame his welcome home with comfort. At last I fain'd my self with Child; the Message Of freedome, or relief, to one half starv'd In prison, is not utter'd with such greediness Of expectation, and delight, as this was To my much affected Lord; his care, his goodness; (Pardon me that I use the word) exceeded All former fears, the hour of my deliverance As I pretended, drawing near, I fashion'd My birth-rights at a Country Garden-house, Where then my Faulk'ners Wife was brought a bed Of this _Cesario_; him I own'd for mine; Presented him unto a joyful Father.

_Duke._ Can you prove this true?

_Mari._ Proofs I have most evident; But oh the curse of my impatiency; shortly, E'r three new Moons had spent their borrow'd Lights, I grew with Child indeed, so just is Heaven, The issue of which burthen was this Daughter; Judge now most gracious Prince, my Lords and you, What combats then, and since, I have indur'd, Between a Mothers piety, and weakness Of a Soul trembling Wife; to have reveal'd This secret to _Alberto_, had been danger Of ruin to my fame, besides the conflict Of his distractions; now to have supprest it, Were to defeat my Child, my only Child, Of her most lawful honors, and inheritance. _Cæsario_, th'art a Man still, Education Hath moulded thee a Gentleman, continue so; Let not this fall from greatness sink thee lower Than worthy thoughts may warrant, yet disclaim All interest in _Alberto's_ blood, thou hast not One drop of his or mine.

_Duke._ Produce your witness.

_Marian._ The Faulconers Wife his Mother, And such women as waited then upon me, Sworn to the privacy of this great secret.

_Duke._ Give them all their Oaths.

_Cesar._ O let me crave forbearance, gracious Sir, Vouchsafe me hearing.

_Duke._ Speak _Cæsario_.

_Cesar._ Thus long I have stood silent, and with no unwillingness, Attended the relation of my fall, From a fair expectation; what I fear'd (Since the first syllable this Lady utter'd Of my not being hers) benevolent Fates Have eas'd me off; for to be basely born, If not base-born, detracts not from the bounty Of natures freedom, or an honest birth. Nobility claim'd by the right of blood, Shewes chiefly, that our Ancestors desir'd What we inherit; but that Man whose actions Purchase a real merit to himself, And rancks him in the file of praise and honor, Creates his own advancement; let me want The fuel which best feeds the fires of greatness, Lordly possessions, yet shall still my gratitude By some attempts, of mention not unworthy, Endeavour to return a fit acquittance To that large debt I owe your favours (Madam) And great _Alberto's_ memory and goodness; O that I could as gently shake off passion For the loss of that great brave Man, as I can shake off Remembra[n]ce of that once I was reputed; I have not much to say, this Princely presence Needs not too strictly to examine farther The truth of this acknowledgment; a Mother Dares never disavow her only son, And any woman must come short of Piety, That can, or dis-inherit her own issue, Or fears the voice of rumor for a stranger. Madam, you have confest, my Father was A servant to your Lord and you: by interest Of being his son, I cannot but claim justly The honor of continuing still my service To you and yours; which granted, I beg leave I may for this time be dismist.

_Duke._ Bold spirit.

_Bap._ I love thee now with pitty.

_Duke._ Go not yet-- A sudden tempest that might shake a rock, Yet he stands firm against it; much it moves me, He, not _Alberto's_ son, and she a Widdow, And she a Widdow,--Lords your ear.

_Omnes._ Your pleasure.-- [_Whispers._

_Duke._ So, Lady, what you have avouch'd is truth.

_Mari._ Truth only, gracious Sir.

_Duke._ Hear then our Sentence. Since from his cradle you have fed and foster'd _Cæsario_ as your Son, and train'd him up To hopes of greatness; which now in a moment You utterly again have ruin'd, this way We with our Counsel are resolv'd, you being A Widdow, shall accept him for a husband.

_Maria._ Husband to me, Sir?

_Duke._ 'Tis in us to raise him To honors, and his vertues will deserve 'em.

_Maria._ But Sir, 'tis in no Prince, nor his Prerogative, To force a Womans choice against her heart.

_Duke._ True, if then you appeale to higher Justice, Our Doom includes this clause upon refusal, Out of your Lords revenues shall _Cæsario_ Assure to any, whom he takes for Wife, The inheritance of three parts; the less remainer Is dowry large enough to marry a daughter; And we, by our Prerogative, which you question, Will publickly adopt him into th'name Of your deceas'd _Alberto_, that the memory Of so approv'd a Peer may live in him That can preserve his memory; 'less you find out Some other means, which may as amply satisfie His wrong, our Sentence stands irrevocable: What think you Lords?

_Omnes._ The Duke is just and honorable.

_Bap._ Let me embrace _Cæsario_, henceforth ever I vow a constant friendship.

_Mentivole._ I remit all former difference.

_Cesar._ I am too poor In words to thank this Justice. _Madam_, alwayes My studies shall be love to you, and duty.

_Duke._ Replies we admit none. _Cæsario_ wait on us.

[_Exeunt. Manent, Mentivole, Bap. Mari. Claris._

_Bap. Mentivole._

_Menti._ My Lord.

_Bap._ Look on _Clarissa_, she's noble, rich, young, fair.

_Mentivole._ My Lord, and virtuous.

_Bap. Mentivole_ and virtuous.--_Madam._

_Maria._ Tyranny of Justice, I shall live reports derision, That am compell'd to exchange a graceful Widdowhood For a continual Martyrdome in Marriage, With one so much beneath me.

_Bap._ I'll plead for ye Boldly and constantly, let your daughter only Admit my son her servant, at next visit, _Madam_, I'll be a messenger of comfort. _Mentivole_, be confident and earnest. [_Exit._

_Maria._ Married again, to him too! better 'thad been The young Man should have still retain'd the honors Of old _Alberto's_ son, than I the shame Of making him successor of his bed; I was too blame.

_Ment._ Indeed without offence, Madam I think you were.

_Claris._ You urge it fairly, and like a worthy friend.

_Maria._ Can you say any thing In commendation of a Mushroom withered Assoon as started up?

_Ment._ You scorn an Innocent Of noble growth, for whiles your husband liv'd I have heard you boast _Cesario_ in all actions Gave matter of report of Imitation, Wonder and envy; let not discontinuance Of some few days estrange a sweet opinion Of virtue, ch[ie]fly when, in such extremity, Your pitty not contempt will argue goodness.

_Maria._ O Sir.

_Cla._ If you would use a thriving courtship, You cannot utter a more powerfull language That I shall listen to with greater greediness Than th'argument you prosecute; this speaks you A man compleat and excellent.

_Ment._ I speak not, they are his own deserts.

_Maria._ Good Sir forbear, I am now fully sensible of running Into a violent Lethargy, whose deadliness Locks up all reason, I shall never henceforth Remember my past happiness.

_Ment._ These clouds may be disperst.

_Maria._ I fear continuall night Will over-shroud me, yet poor youth his trespass Lies in his fortune, not the cruelty Of the Duke's sentence.

_Cla._ I dare think it does.

_Maria._ If all fail I will learn thee to conquer Adversity with sufferance.

_Ment._ You resolve Nobly. [_Exeunt._

_Actus Quartus. Scæna Prima._

_Enter Cesario and a Servant._

_Cesar._ Let any friend have entrance.

_Servant._ Sir a'shall.

_Cesar._ Any, I except none.

_Serv._ We know, your mind Sir. [--_Exit._

_Cesar._ Pleasures admit no bounds. I am pitcht so high To such a growth of full prosperities That to conceal my fortunes were an injury To gratefulness, and those more liberall favours By whom my glories prosper. He that flowes In gracious and swolne tydes of best abundance, Yet will be Ignorant of his own fortunes, Deserves to live contemn'd, and dye forgotten; The harvest of my hopes is now already Ripen'd and gather'd, I can fatten youth With choice of plenty, and supplies of comforts, My fate springs in my own hand, and I'll use it.

_Enter 2 Servants and Biancha._

_1_ 'Tis my place.

_2_ Yours? here fair one, I'll aquaint my Lord.

_1_ He's here, go to him boldly.

_2_ Please you to let him understand how readily I waited on your errand?

_1_ Saucy fellow, you must excuse his breeding.

_Cesar._ What's the matter? _Biancha_, my _Biancha_, to your offices. [_Exit Ser._ This visit (Sweet) from thee (my pretty dear) By how much more 'twas unexpected, comes So much the more timely: witness this free welcome, What ere occasion led thee.

_Bian._ You must guess Sir, Yet indeed 'tis a rare one.

_Ces._ Prethee speak it, my honest virtuous maid.

_Bian._ Sir I have heard Of your misfortunes, and I cannot tell you Whether I have more cause of joy or sadness, To know they are a truth.

_Ces._ What truth _Biancha_? misfortunes, how, wherein?

_Bian._ You are disclaym'd For being the Lord _Alberto's_ Son, and publickly Acknowledg'd of as mean a birth as mine is, It cannot chuse but greive ye.

_Ces._ Greive me? Ha ha ha ha? Is this all?

_Bian._ This all?

_Ces._ Thou art sorry for't I warrant thee: alas good soul, _Biancha_, That which thou call'st misfortune is my happiness, My happiness _Biancha_.

_Bian._ If you love me, it may prove mine too.

_Ces._ May it? I will love thee. My good, good maid, If that can make thee happy, Better and better love thee.

_Bian._ Without breach then Of modesty I come to claime the Interest Your protestations, both by vows and letters, Have made me owner of: from the first hour I saw you, I confess I wisht I had been Or not so much below your rank and greatness, Or not so much above those humble flames That should have warm'd my bosome with a temperate Equality of desires in equal fortunes. Still as you utter'd Language of affection, I courted time to pass more slowly on That I might turn more fool to lend attention To what I durst not credit, nor yet hope for: Yet still as more I heard, I wisht to hear more.

_Ces._ Didst thou introth wench?

_Bian._ Willingly betraid My self to hopeless bondage.

_Ces._ A good girl, I thought I should not miss What ere thy answer was.

_Biancha._ But as I am a maid Sir, and I'faith You may believe me, for I am a maid, So dearly I respected both your fame And quality, that I would first have perisht In my sick thoughts than ere have given consent To have undone your fortunes by inviting A marriage with so mean an one as I am. I should have dyed sure, and no creature known The sickness that had kill'd me.

_Ces._ Pretty heart, good Soul, alas, alas.

_Bian._ Now since I know There is no difference 'twixt your birth and mine, Not much 'twixt our estates, if any be, The advantage is on my side, I come willingly To tender you the first fruits of my heart, And am content t'accept you for my husband, Now when you are at lowest.

_Ces._ For a husband? Speak sadly, dost thou mean so?

_Bian._ In good deed Sir, 'Tis pure love makes this proffer.

_Ces._ I believe thee, What counsail urg'd thee on, tell me, thy Father My worshipfull smug Host? wast not he wench? Or mother Hostess? ha?

_Bian._ D'ee mock my parentage? I doe not scorn yours. Mean folks are as worthy To be well spoken of if they deserve well, As some whose onely fame lies in their blood, O y'are a proud poor man: all your oaths falshood, Your vows deceit, your letters forg'd, and wicked.

_Ces._ Thou'dst be my wife, I dare swear.

_Bian._ Had your heart, Your hand and tongue been twins, you had reputed This courtesy a benefit.

_Ces._ Simplicity, How prettily thou mov'st me! why _Biancha_, Report has coz'ned thee, I am not fallen From my expected honors, or possessions, Though from the hope of birthright.

_Bian._ Are you not? Then I am lost again, I have a suit too; You'll grant it if you be a good man.

_Ces._ Any thing.

_Bian._ Pray doe not talk of ought what I have said t'ee.

_Ces._ As I wish health I will not.

_Bian._ Pitty me, but never love me more.

_Ces._ Nay now y'are cruell, Why all these tears?--Thou shalt not go.

_Bian._ I'll pray for ye That you may have a virtuous wife, a fair one, And when I am dead--

_Ces._ Fy, fy.

_Bian._ Think on me sometimes, With mercy for this trespass.

_Ces._ Let us kiss At parting as at coming.

_Bian._ This I have As a free dower to a virgins grave, All goodness dwell with ye.-- [_Exit._

_Ces._ Harmeless _Biancha_! unskill'd; What hansome toyes are maids to play with!

_Enter Mariana and Clarissa._

How innocent! But I have other thoughts Of nobler meditation.--my felicity, Thou commest as I could wish, lend me a lip Soft as melting as when old _Alberto_ After his first nights triall taking farewell Of thy youth's conquest tasted.

_Maria._ You are uncivill.

_Ces._ I will be Lord of my own pleasures, Madam Y'are mine, mine freely, Come, no whimpering henceforth New con the lessons of loves best experience, That our delights may meet in equal measure Of resolutions and desires; this sulleness Is scurvy, I like it not.

_Mar._ Be modest. And do not learn _Cesario_ how to prostitute The riot of thy hopes to common folly; Take a sad womans word, how ere thou doat'st Upon the present graces of thy greatnes. Yea I am not falen so below my constancy To virtue, nor the care which I once tend'red For thy behoof that I prefer a sentence Of cruelty before my honor.

_Ces._ Honor!

_Maria._ Hear me, thou seest this girl! now the comfort Of my last days. She is the onely pledge Of a bed truely noble: shee had a father (I need not speak him more than thou remembrest) Whom to dishonor by a meaner choice, Were injury and infamy.

_Claris._ To goodnes, To time and virtuous mention.

_Mar._ I have vow'd, Observe me now _Cesario_, that how ere I may be forc'd to marry, yet no tyranny, Persuasions, flattery, guifts, intreats, or tortures, Shall draw me to a second bed.

_Clar._ Tis just too.

_Maria._ Yes and 'tis just _Clarissa_. I allow The Duke's late sentence, am resolv'd young man To be thy wife, but when the ceremony Of marriage is perform'd, in life I will be, Though not in name, a widdow.

_Ces._ Pray a word t'ee, Shall I in earnest never be your bedfellow?

_Maria._ Never, O never; and 'tis for your good too.

_Ces._ Prove that.

_Mar._ Alas too many years are numbred In my account to entertain the benefit Which youth in thee _Cesario_, and ability Might hope for and require, it were Injustice To rob a gentleman deserving memory Of Issue to preserve it.

_Ces._ No more herein, You are an excellent pattern of true piety, Let me now turn your advocate. Pray look into The order of the Duke. Injoyn'd, admit I satisfie the sentence without mariage With you, how then?

_Mar. Cesario._

_Ces._ If I know How to acquit your fears, yet keep th'injunction In every clause whole and entire, your charity Will call me still your servant.

_Mar._ Still my son.

_Ces._ Right Madam, now you have it, still your son. The _Genius_ of your blessings hath instructed Your tongue oraculously, we will forget How once I and _Clarissa_ enterchang'd The tyes of brother and of sister, henceforth New stile us man and wife.

_Cla._ By what authority?

_Ces._ Heavens great appointment, yet in all my dotage On thy perfections, when I thought _Clarissa_ We had been pledges of one womb, no lose No wanton heat of youth, desir'd to claime Priority in thy affections, other Than nature might commend. Chastly I tend'red Thy welfare as a brother ought; but since Our bloods are strangers, let our hearts contract A long life-lasting unity, for this way The sentence is to be observ'd or no way.

_Mar._ Then no way.

_Ces._ I expected other answer Madam from you.

_Mar._ No, every age shall curse me, The monster, and the prodigie of nature, Horrors beyond extremity.

_Cla._ Pray mother confine the violence of greif.

_Ces._ Yes mother, pray do.

_Mar._ Thus some catch at a matrons honor By flying lust to plot Incestuous witchcrafts. More terrible than whoredomes; cruell mercy! When to preserve the body from a death The soul is strangled.

_Ces._ This is more than passion, It comes near to distraction.

_Mar._ I am quieted. _Cesario_, thou mayest tell the Duke securely _Alberto's_ titles, honors and revenues, The Duke may give away, enjoy them thou. _Clarissas_ birthright, _Marianas_ dower Thou shalt be Lord of; turn us to the world Unpittied and unfriended, yet my bed Thou never sleep'st in; as for her; she hears me, If she as much as in a thought consent; That thou may'st call her wife, a Mothers curse Shall never leave her.

_Clar._ As a brother once I lov'd you, as a noble friend yet honor ye, But for a husband sir, I dare not own you, My faith is given already.

_Ces._ To a Villain, I'll cut his throat.

_Mar._ Why this is more than passion! It comes near a distraction.

_Clar._ Call to mind Sir. How much you have abated of that goodness Which once reign'd in ye, they appear'd so lovely That such as friendship led to observation

_Enter Baptista and Mentivole._

Courted the great example.

_Ces._ Left, and flatter'd into a broad derision?

_Mar._ Why d'ee think so? My Lord _Baptista_, is your Son grown cold In hasting on the marriage, which his vows Have seal'd to my wrong'd daughter?

_Bap._ We come Lady, to consummate the contract.

_Ces._ With _Mentivole_? is he the man?

_Ment. Clarissas_, troth and mine, _Cesario_, are recorded in a character So plain and certain, that except the hand Of heaven, which writ it first, would blot it out again, No humane power can raze it.

_Ces._ But say you so too young Lady?

_Cla._ I should else betray My heart to falshood, and my tongue to perjury.

_Ces._ Madam, you know the sentence.

_Bap._ From the Duke, I have particular comforts which require A private [e]are.

_Mar._ I shall approve it gladly We are resolv'd _Cesario_.

_Bap._ Be not insolent upon a Princes favor.

_Cla._ Loose no glory, Your younger years have purchast.

_Ment._ And deserved too, y'have many worthy freinds.

_Bap._ Preserve and use them. [_Exeunt. Manet Cesar._

_Ces._ Good, very good, why here's a complement Of mirth in desperation, I could curse My fate: O with what speed men tumble down From hopes that soar too high. _Biancha_ now May scorn me justly too, _Clarissa_ married, _Alberto's_ widdow resolute, _Biancha_ Refus'd, and I forsaken: let me study, I can but die a Batchelor that's the worst on't. [_Exit._

_Enter Host, Taylor, Muliter, Dancer, Pedant, Coxcombe._