SCENE II.

_The same. A State-room in the Palace._

_Loud music. Enter_ ROBERTO, BERTOLDO, AURELIA, FERDINAND, ASTUTIO, GONZAGA, RODERIGO, JACOMO, PIERIO, _a Bishop, and Attendants_.

_Rob._ Had our division been greater, madam, Your clemency, the wrong being done to you, In pardon of it, like the rod of concord, Must make a perfect union.--Once more, With a brotherly affection, we receive you Into our favour: let it be your study Hereafter to deserve this blessing, far Beyond your merit.

_Bert._ As the princess' grace To me is without limit, my endeavours, With all obsequiousness to serve her pleasures, Shall know no bounds: nor will I, being made Her husband, e'er forget the duty that I owe her as a servant.

_Aurel._ I expect not But fair equality, since I well know, If that superiority be due, 'Tis not to me. When you are made my consort, All the prerogatives of my high birth cancell'd, I'll practise the obedience of a wife, And freely pay it.

_Gonz._ This done, as it is promised, may well stand for A precedent to great women.

_Rob._ One word more Touching the articles.

_Enter_ FULGENTIO, CAMIOLA, SYLLI, _and_ ADORNI.

_Ful._ In you alone Lie all my hopes; you can or kill or save me; But pity in you will become you better (Though I confess injustice 'tis denied me) Than too much rigour.

_Cam._ I will make your peace As far as it lies in me; but must first Labour to right myself.

_Aurel._ Or add or alter What you think fit; in him I have my all: Heaven make me thankful for him!

_Rob._ On to the temple.

_Cam._ Stay, royal sir; and, as you are a king, Erect one[166] here, in doing justice to An injured maid.

_Aurel._ How's this?

_Bert._ O, I am blasted!

_Rob._ I have given some proof, sweet lady, of my promptness To do you right; you need not, therefore, doubt me; And rest assured, that, this great work despatch'd, You shall have audience, and satisfaction To all you can demand.

_Cam._ To do me justice Exacts your present care, and can admit Of no delay. If, ere my cause be heard, In favour of your brother you go on, sir, Your sceptre cannot right me. He's the man, The guilty man, whom I accuse; and you Stand bound in duty, as you are supreme, To be impartial. Since you are a judge, As a delinquent look on him, and not As on a brother: Justice painted blind, Infers her ministers are obliged to hear The cause, and truth, the judge, determine of it; And not sway'd or by favour or affection, By a false gloss, or wrested comment, alter The true intent and letter of the law.

_Rob._ Nor will I, madam.

_Aurel._ You seem troubled, sir.

_Gonz._ His colour changes too.

_Cam._ The alteration Grows from his guilt. The goodness of my cause Begets such confidence in me, that I bring No hired tongue to plead for me, that with gay Rhetorical flourishes may palliate That which, stripp'd naked, will appear deform'd. I stand here mine own advocate; and my truth, Deliver'd in the plainest language, will Make good itself; nor will I, if the king Give suffrage to it, but admit of you, My greatest enemy, and this stranger prince, To sit assistants with him.

_Aurel._ I ne'er wrong'd you.

_Cam._ In your knowledge of the injury, I believe it; Nor will you, in your justice, when you are Acquainted with my interest in this man, Which I lay claim to.

_Rob._ Let us take our seats. What is your title to him?

_Cam._ By this contract, Seal'd solemnly before a reverend man, [_Presents a paper to the king._ I challenge him for my husband.

_Syl._ Ha! was I Sent for the friar for this?

_Rob._ This writing is Authentical.

_Aurel._ But, done in heat of blood, Charm'd by her flatteries, as, no doubt, he was, To be dispensed with.

_Fer._ Add this, if you please, The distance and disparity between Their births and fortunes.

_Cam._ What can Innocence hope for, When such as sit her judges are corrupted! Disparity of birth or fortune, urge you? Or syren charms? or, at his best, in me Wants to deserve him? Call some few days back, And, as he was, consider him, and you Must grant him my inferior. Imagine You saw him now in fetters, with his honour, His liberty lost; with her black wings Despair Circling his miseries, and this Gonzaga Trampling on his afflictions; the great sum Proposed for his redemption; the king Forbidding payment of it; his near kinsmen, With his protesting followers and friends, Falling off from him; by the whole world forsaken; Dead to all hope, and buried in the grave Of his calamities; and then weigh duly What she deserved, whose merits now are doubted, That, as his better angel, in her bounties Appear'd unto him, his great ransom paid, His wants, and with a prodigal hand, supplied; Whether, then, being my manumised slave, He owed not himself to me?

_Aurel._ Is this true?

_Rob._ In his silence 'tis acknowledged.

_Gonz._ If you want A witness to this purpose, I'll depose it.

_Cam._ If I have dwelt too long on my deservings To this unthankful man, pray you pardon me; The cause required it. And though now I add A little, in my painting to the life His barbarous ingratitude, to deter Others from imitation, let it meet with A fair interpretation. This serpent, Frozen to numbness, was no sooner warm'd In the bosom of my pity and compassion, But, in return, he ruin'd his preserver, The prints the irons had made in his flesh Still ulcerous; but all that I had done, My benefits, in sand or water written, As they had never been, no more remember'd! And on what ground, but his ambitious hopes To gain this duchess' favour?

_Aurel._ Yes; the object, Look on it better, lady, may excuse The change of his affection.

_Cam._ The object! In what? forgive me, modesty, if I say You look upon your form in the false glass Of flattery and self-love, and that deceives you. That you were a duchess, as I take it, was not Character'd on your face; and, that not seen, For other feature, make all these, that are Experienced in women, judges of them, And, if they are not parasites, they must grant, For beauty without art, though you storm at it, I may take the right-hand file.

_Gonz._ Well said, i' faith! I see fair women on no terms will yield Priority in beauty.

_Cam._ Down, proud heart! Why do I rise up in defence of that, Which, in my cherishing of it, hath undone me! No, madam, I recant,--you are all beauty, Goodness, and virtue; and poor I not worthy As a foil to set you off: enjoy your conquest; But do not tyrannize. Yet, as I am, In my lowness, from your height you may look on me, And, in your suffrage to me, make him know That, though to all men else I did appear The shame and scorn of women, he stands bound To hold me as the masterpiece.

_Rob._ By my life, You have shown yourself of such an abject temper, So poor and low-condition'd, as I grieve for Your nearness to me.

_Fer._ I am changed in my Opinion of you, lady; and profess The virtues of your mind an ample fortune For an absolute monarch.

_Gonz._ Since you are resolved To damn yourself, in your forsaking of Your noble order for a woman, do it For this. You may search through the world, and meet not With such another phoenix.

_Aurel._ On the sudden I feel all fires of love quench'd in the water Of my compassion.--Make your peace; you have My free consent; for here I do disclaim All interest in you: and, to further your Desires, fair maid, composed of worth and honour, The dispensation procured by me, Freeing Bertoldo from his vow, makes way To your embraces.

_Bert._ Oh, how have I stray'd, And wilfully, out of the noble track Mark'd me by virtue! till now, I was never Truly a prisoner. To excuse my late Captivity, I might allege the malice Of Fortune; you, that conquer'd me, confessing Courage in my defence was no way wanting. But now I have surrender'd up my strengths Into the power of Vice, and on my forehead Branded, with mine own hand, in capital letters, DISLOYAL, and INGRATEFUL. Though barr'd from Human society, and hiss'd into Some desert ne'er yet haunted with the curses Of men and women, sitting as a judge Upon my guilty self, I must confess It justly falls upon me; and one tear, Shed in compassion of my sufferings, more Than I can hope for.

_Cam._ This compunction For the wrong that you have done me, though you should Fix here, and your true sorrow move no further, Will, in respect I loved once, make these eyes Two springs of sorrow for you.

_Bert._ In your pity My cruelty shows more monstrous: yet I am not, Though most ingrateful, grown to such a height Of impudence, as, in my wishes only, To ask your pardon. If, as now I fall Prostrate before your feet, you will vouchsafe To act your own revenge, treading upon me As a viper eating through the bowels of Your benefits, to whom, with liberty, I owe my being, 'twill take from the burden That now is insupportable.

_Cam._ Pray you, rise; As I wish peace and quiet to my soul, I do forgive you heartily: yet, excuse me, Though I deny myself a blessing that, By the favour of the duchess, seconded With your submission, is offer'd to me; Let not the reason I allege for 't grieve you, You have been false once.--I have done: and if, When I am married, as this day I will be, As a perfect sign of your atonement with me, You wish me joy, I will receive it for Full satisfaction of all obligations In which you stand bound to me.

_Bert._ I will do it, And, what's more, in despite of sorrow, live To see myself undone, beyond all hope To be made up again.

_Syl._ My blood begins To come to my heart again.

_Cam._ Pray you, signior Sylli, Call in the holy friar: he's prepared For finishing the work.

_Syl._ I knew I was The man: heaven make me thankful! [_Exit._

_Rob._ Who is this?

_Ast._ His father was the banker of Palermo, And this the heir of his great wealth: his wisdom Was not hereditary.

_Aurel._ For my part, I cannot guess the issue.

_Re-enter_ SYLLI _with Father_ PAULO.

_Syl._ Do your duty; And with all speed you can, you may despatch us.

_Paul._ Thus, as a principal ornament to the church, I seize her.

_All._ How!

_Rob._ So young, and so religious!

_Paul._ She has forsook the world.

_Syl._ I shall run mad.

_Rob._ Hence with the fool! [SYLLI _is thrust off_.] Proceed, sir.

Paul. _Look on this_ MAID OF HONOUR, _now Truly honour'd in her vow She pays to heaven. This fair hair (Favours for great kings to wear) Must now be shorn; her rich array Changed into a homely gray: Instead of dainties, from the spring, For wine, cold water we will bring; And with fasting mortify The feasts of sensuality. Her jewels, beads; and she must look Not in a glass, but holy book, To teach her the ne'er-erring way To immortality. O may She, as she purposes to be A child new-born to piety, Perséver[167] in it, and good men, With saints and angels, say, Amen_!

_Cam._ This is the marriage! this the port to which My vows must steer me! Fill my spreading sails With the pure wind of your devotions for me, That I may touch the secure haven, where Eternal happiness keeps her residence, Temptations to frailty never entering! I am dead to the world, and thus dispose Of what I leave behind me; and, dividing My state into three parts, I thus bequeath it: The first to the fair nunnery, to which I dedicate the last and better part Of my frail life; a second portion To pious uses; and the third to thee, Adorni, for thy true and faithful service. And, ere I take my last farewell, with hope To find a grant, my suit to you is, that You would, for my sake, pardon this young man, And to his merits love him, and no further.

_Rob._ I thus confirm it. [_Gives his hand to_ FULGENTIO.

_Cam._ And, as e'er you hope, [_To_ BERTOLDO. Like me, to be made happy, I conjure you To reassume your order; and in fighting Bravely against the enemies of our faith, Redeem your mortgaged honour.

_Gonz._ I restore this: [_Gives him the white cross._ Once more, brothers in arms.

_Bert._ I'll live and die so.

_Cam._ To you my pious wishes! And, to end All differences, great sir, I beseech you To be an arbitrator, and compound The quarrel long continuing between The duke and duchess.

_Rob._ I will take it into My special care.

_Cam._ I am then at rest. Now, father, Conduct me where you please. [_Exeunt_ PAULO _and_ CAMIOLA.

_Rob._ She well deserves Her name, _the Maid of Honour_! May she stand, To all posterity, a fair example For noble maids to imitate! Since to live In wealth and pleasure's common, but to part with Such poison'd baits is rare; there being nothing Upon this stage of life to be commended, Though well begun, till it be fully ended. [_Flourish. Exeunt._

FOOTNOTES:

[166] _Erect one here_,] i. e. _a temple_.--M. MASON.

[167] _Perséver._] So this word was anciently written and pronounced.--GIFFORD.

END OF VOL. I.

Transcriber's Notes:

Words surrounded by _ are italicized.

Small capitals are presented as all capitals in this e-text.

Obvious printer's errors have been repaired, other inconsistent spellings have been kept, including inconsistent use of hyphen (e.g. "master-piece" and "masterpiece") or accent (e.g. "blasphémous" and "blasphemous").

End of Project Gutenberg's The Plays of Philip Massinger, by Philip Massinger