SCENE I.

_Palace of the Duke of Venice._

_Enter_ BALURDO, _a_ Painter _with two pictures_, _and_ DILDO.

_Bal._ And are you a painter? sir, can you draw, can you draw?

_Pa._ Yes, sir.

_Bal._ Indeed, law! now so can my father's forehorse. And are these the workmanship of your hands?

_Pa._ I did limn them.

_Bal._ Limn them? a good word, limn them: whose picture is this? _Anno Domini_, 1599. Believe me, master Anno Domini was of a good settled age when you limn'd him: 1599 years old! Let's see the other. _Ætatis suæ_ 24. Byrlady, he is somewhat younger. Belike master _Ætatis suæ_ was _Anno Domini's_ son. 12

_Pa._ Is not your master a----

_Dil._ He hath a little proclivity to him.

_Pa._ Proclivity, good youth? I thank you for your courtly proclivity.

_Bal._ Approach, good sir. I did send for you to draw me a device, an Imprezza, by _Synecdoche a Mott_. By Phoebus' crimson taffeta mantle, I think I speak as melodiously,--look you, sir, how think you on't? I would have you paint me, for my device, a good fat leg of ewe mutton, swimming in stewed broth of plums (boy, keel[160] your mouth, it runs over) and the word[161] shall be, _Hold my dish, whilst I spill my pottage_. Sure, in my conscience, 'twould be the most sweet device, now. 25

_Pa._ 'Twould scent of kitchen-stuff too much.

_Bal._ God's neaks, now I remember me, I ha' the rarest device in my head that ever breathed. Can you paint me a driveling reeling song, and let the word be, Uh. 30

_Pa._ A belch?

_Bal._ O, no no: Uh, paint me Uh, or nothing.

_Pa._ It cannot be done, sir, but by a seeming kind of drunkenness.

_Bal._ No? well, let me have a good massy ring, with your own posy graven in it, that must sing a small treble, word for word, thus:

_And if you will[162] my true lover be, Come follow me to the green wood._

_Pa._ O Lord, sir, I cannot make a picture sing. 40

_Bal._ Why? 'slid, I have seen painted things sing as sweet; But I have't will tickle it for a conceit, i'faith.

_Enter_ FELICHE _and_ ALBERTO.

_Alb._ O dear Feliche, give me thy device. How shall I purchase love of Rossaline?

_Feli._ 'Swill, flatter her soundly.

_Alb._ Her love is such, I cannot flatter her: But with my utmost vehemence of speech, I have ador'd her beauties.

_Feli._ Hast writ good moving unaffected rhymes to her?

_Alb._ O, yes, Feliche, but she scorns my writ. 50

_Feli._ Hast thou presented her with sumptuous gifts?

_Alb._ Alas, my fortunes are too weak to offer them.

_Feli._ O, then I have it, I'll tell thee what to do.

_Alb._ What, good Feliche?

_Feli._ Go and hang thyself; I say, go hang thyself, If that thou canst not give, go hang thyself: I'll rhyme thee dead, or verse thee to the rope. How think'st thou of a poet that sung thus? _Munera sola pacant, sola addunt munera formam: Munere sollicites Pallada, Cypris erit._ 60 _Munera, munera!_

_Alb._ I'll go and breathe my woes unto the rocks, And spend my grief upon the deafest seas. I'll weep my passion to the senseless trees, And load most solitary air with plaints. For woods, trees, sea, or rocky Apennine, Is not so ruthless as my Rossaline. Farewell, dear friend, expect no more of me: Here ends my part in this love's comedy. 69

[_Exeunt_ ALBERTO _and_ Painter.

_Feli._ Now, master Balurdo, whither are you going, ha?

_Bal._ Signior Feliche, how do you, faith? and by my troth, how do you?

_Feli._ Whither art thou going, bully?[163]

_Bal._ And as heaven help me, how do you? How, do you, i'faith, hee?

_Feli._ Whither art going, man?

_Bal._ O God, to the court; I'll be willing to give you grace and good countenance, if I may but see you in the presence.

_Feli._ O, to court? farewell. 80

_Bal._ If you see one in a yellow taffeta doublet, cut upon carnation velure,[164] a green hat, a blue pair of velvet hose, a gilt rapier, and an orange-tawny pair of worsted silk stockings, that's I, that's I.

_Feli._ Very good: farewell.

_Bal._ Ho, you shall know me as easily; I ha' bought me a new green feather with a red sprig; you shall see my wrought[165] shirt hang out at my breeches; you shall know me. 89

_Feli._ Very good, very good, farewell.

_Bal._ Marry, in the mask 'twill be somewhat hard. But if you hear anybody speak so wittily, that he makes all the room laugh; that's I, that's I. Farewell, good Signior.

_Enter_ FOROBOSCO, CASTILIO, _a Boy carrying a gilt harp_; PIERO, MELLIDA, _in night apparel_; ROSSALINE, FLAVIA, _two Pages_.

_Pier._ Advance the music's prize; now, cap'ring wits, Rise to your highest mount; let choice delight Garland the brow of this triumphant night. 'Sfoot, 'a sits like Lucifer himself.

_Ros._ Good sweet Duke, First let their voices strain for music's prize.[166] Give me the golden harp: 100 Faith, with your favour, I'll be umperess.

_Pier._ Sweet niece, content: boys, clear your voice and sing.

_First[167] Boy sings._

_Ros._ By this gold, I had rather have a servant with a short nose, and a thin hair, than have such a high-stretch'd minikin[168] voice.

_Pier._ Fair niece, your reason?

_Ros._ By the sweet of love, I should fear extremely that he were an eunuch.

_Cast._ Spark spirit, how like you his voice?

_Ros._ Spark spirit, how like you his voice! 110 So help me, youth, thy voice squeaks like a dry corkshoe:[169] come, come; let's hear the next.

_Second Boy sings._

_Pier._ Trust me, a strong mean. Well sung, my boy.

_Enter_ BALRUDO.

_Bal._ Hold, hold, hold: are ye blind? could ye not see my voice coming for the harp? And I knock not division[170] on the head, take hence the harp, make me a slip,[171] and let me go but for ninepence. Sir Mark, strike up for master Balurdo.

_Third Boy sings._

Judgment, gentlemen, judgment! Was't not above line? I appeal to your mouths that heard my song. 120 Do[172] me right, and dub me knight, Balurdo.

_Ros._ Kneel down, and I'll dub thee knight of the golden harp.

_Bal._ Indeed, law, do, and I'll make you lady of the silver fiddlestick.

_Ros._ Come, kneel, kneel.

_Enter a Page to_ BALURDO.

_Bal._ My troth, I thank you, it hath never a whistle in't.

_Ros._ Nay, good sweet coz, raise up your drooping eyes; and I were at the point of _To have and to hold from this day forward_, I would be asham'd to look thus lumpish. What, my pretty coz, 'tis but the loss of an odd maidenhead. 133 Shall's dance? thou art so sad, hark in thine[173] ear: I was about to say, but I'll forbear.

_Bal._ I come, I come; more than most honeysuckle sweet ladies, pine not for my presence, I'll return in pomp. Well spoke, Sir Jeffrey Balurdo. As I am a true knight, I feel honourable eloquence begin to grope me already. [_Exit._ 140

_Pier._ Faith, mad niece, I wonder when thou wilt marry?

_Ros._ Faith, kind uncle, when men abandon jealousy, forsake taking of tobacco, and cease to wear their beards so rudely long. O, to have a husband with a mouth continually smoking, with a bush of furze on the ridge of his chin, ready still to flop into his foaming chaps; ah, 'tis more than most intolerable.

_Pier._ Nay faith, sweet niece, I was mighty strong in thought we should have shut up night with an old comedy: the Prince of Florence[174] shall have Mellida, and thou should'st have----. 152

_Ros._ Nobody, good sweet uncle. I tell you, sir, I have thirty-nine servants, and my monkey that makes the fortieth. Now I love all of them lightly for something, but affect none of them seriously for anything. One's a passionate fool, and he flatters me above belief; the second's a testy ape, and he rails at me beyond reason; the third's as grave as some censor, and he strokes up his mustachios three times, and makes six plots of set faces, before he speaks one wise word; the fourth's as dry as the bur of an hartichoke; the fifth paints, and hath always a good colour for what he speaks; the sixth----. 164

_Pier._ Stay, stay, sweet niece, what makes you thus suspect your gallants' worth?

_Ros._ O, when I see one wear a periwig, I dread his hair; another wallow in a great slop,[175] I mistrust the proportion of his thigh; and wears a ruffled boot,[176] I fear the fashion of his leg. Thus, something in each thing, one trick in everything makes me mistrust imperfection in all parts; and there's the full point of my addiction. 172

_The cornets sound a senet. Enter_ GALEATZO, MATZAGENTE, _and_ BALURDO _in maskery_.

_Pier._ The room's too scant: boys, stand in there, close.

_Mel._ [_To_ GALEATZO.] In faith, fair sir, I am too sad to dance.

_Pier._ How's that, how's that? too sad? By heaven, dance, And grace him too, or go to----, I say no more.

_Mel._ A burning glass, the word[177] _splendente Phoebo_? It is too curious, I conceit it not.

_Gal._ Faith, I'll tell thee. I'll no longer burn, Than you will shine and smile upon my love. 180 For look ye, fairest, by your pure sweets, I do not dote upon your excellence; And faith, unless you shed your brightest beams Of sunny favour and acceptive grace Upon my tender love, I do not burn: Marry, but shine, and I'll reflect your beams With fervent ardour. Faith! I would be loath to flatter thee, fair soul, because I love, not dote, court like thy husband, which thy father swears to-morrow morn I must be. This is all; and now from henceforth, trust me, Mellida, I'll not speak one wise word to thee more.

_Mel._ I trust ye. 192

_Gal._ By my troth, I'll speak pure fool[178] to thee now.

_Mel._ You will speak the liker yourself.

_Gal._ Good faith, I'll accept of the coxcomb, so you will not refuse the bable.[179]

_Mel._ Nay, good sweet, keep them both; I am enamoured of neither.

_Gal._ Go to, I must take you down for this. Lend me your ear. 200

_Ros._ A glow-worm? the word,--_Splendescit tantùm tenebris_.

_Mat._ O, lady, the glow-worm figurates my valour, which shineth brightest in most dark, dismal, and horrid achievements.

_Ros._ Or rather, your glow-worm represents your wit, which only seems to have fire in it, though indeed 'tis but an _ignis fatuus_, and shines only in the dark dead night of fools' admiration.

_Mat._ Lady, my wit hath spurs, if it were dispos'd to ride you. 211

_Ros._ Faith, sir, your wit's spurs have but walking rowels; dull, blunt, they will not draw blood: the gentlemen-ushers may admit them the presence, for any wrong they can do to ladies.

_Bal._ Truly, I have strained a note above ela[180] for a device: look you, 'tis a fair-ruled singing book; the word, _Perfect, if it were prick'd_.

_Fla._ Though you are mask'd, I can guess who you are by your wit. You are not the exquisite Balurdo, the most rarely-shaped Balurdo. 221

_Bal._ Who, I? No, I am not Sir Jeffrey Balurdo. I am not as well known by my wit as an alehouse by a red lattice.[181] I am not worthy to love and be beloved of Flavia.

_Fla._ I will not scorn to favour such good parts As are applauded in your rarest self. 227

_Bal._ Truly, you speak wisely, and like a jantlewoman of fourteen years of age. You know the stone called _lapis_; the nearer it comes to the fire, the hotter it is: and the bird, which the geometricians call _avis_, the farther it is from the earth, the nearer it is to the heaven; and love, the nigher it is to the flame, the more remote (there's a word, remote!) the more remote it is from the frost. Your wit is quick; a little thing pleaseth a young lady, and a small favour contenteth an old courtier; and so, sweet mistress, I truss my codpiece point. 238

_Enter_ FELICHE.

_Pier._ What might import this flourish? Bring us word.

_Feli._ Stand away: here's such a company of flyboats,[182] hulling[183] about this galleasse[184] of greatness, that there's no boarding him. Do you hear, yon thing call'd duke?

_Pier._ How now, blunt Feliche; what's the news?

_Feli._ Yonder's a knight, hath brought Andrugio's head, And craves admittance to your chair of state.

_Cornets sound a senet. Enter_ ANDRUGIO _in armour_.

_Pier._ Conduct him with attendance sumptuous; Sound all the pleasing instruments of joy; Make triumph stand on tiptoe whilst we meet: O sight most gracious, O revenge most sweet! 250

_And. We vow, by the honour of our birth, to recompense any man that bringeth Andrugio's head, with twenty thousand double pistolets, and the endearing to our choicest love._

_Pier._ We still with most unmoved resolve[185] confirm Our large munificence, and here breathe A sad and solemn protestation: When I recall this vow, O, let our house Be even commanded, stain'd, and trampled on, As worthless rubbish of nobility. 260

_And._ Then here [_raising his beaver_], Piero, is Andrugio's head,

Royally casquèd in a helm of steel: Give me thy love, and take it. My dauntless soul Hath that unbounded vigour in his spirits That it can bear more rank indignity, With less impatience than thy canker'd hate Can sting and venom his untainted worth With the most vip'rous sound of malice. Strike! O, let no glimpse of honour light thy thoughts; If there be any heat of royal breath 270 Creeping in thy veins, O stifle it; Be still thyself, bloody and treacherous. Fame not thy house with an admirèd act Of princely pity. Piero, I am come To soil thy house with an eternal blot Of savage cruelty; strike, or bid me strike. I pray my death; that thy ne'er-dying shame Might live immortal to posterity. Come, be a princely hangman, stop my breath. O dread thou shame, no more than I dread death. 280

_Pier._ We are amazed, our royal spirit's numb'd In stiff astonish'd wonder at thy prowess. Most mighty, valiant, and high-tow'ring heart, We blush, and turn our hate upon ourselves, For hating such an unpeer'd excellence. I joy my state: him whom I loath'd before, That now I honour, love, nay more, adore.

[_The still flutes sound a mournful senet. Enter a funeral procession, followed by_ LUCIO.

But stay; what tragic spectacle appears! Whose body bear you in that mournful hearse?

_Lu._ The breathless trunk of young Antonio. 290

_Mel._ Antonio! ay me! my lord, my love! my----.

_And._ Sweet precious issue of most honour'd blood, Rich hope, ripe virtue, O untimely loss! Come hither, friend: prithee, do not weep. Why, I am glad he's dead; he shall not see His father's vanquish'd by his enemy, Even in princely honour. Nay, prithee, speak! How died the wretched boy?

_Lu._ My lord!

_And._ I hope he died yet like my son, i'faith. 300

_Lu._ Alas, my lord!

_And._ He died unforced, I trust, and valiantly?

_Lu._ Poor gentleman, being----

_And._ Did his hand shake, or his eye look dull, His thoughts reel fearful when he struck the stroke? And if they did, I'll rend them out the hearse, Rip up his cerecloth, mangle his bleak face, That when he comes to heaven, the powers divine, Shall ne'er take notice that he was my son: I'll quite disclaim his birth. Nay, prithee, speak! 310 And 'twere not hooped with steel, my breast would break.

_Mel._ O that my spirit in a sigh could mount Into the sphere where thy sweet soul doth rest!

_Pier._ O that my tears, bedewing thy wan cheek, Could make new spirit sprout in thy cold blood!

_Bal._ Verily, he looks as pitifully as a poor John;[186] as I am true knight, I could weep like a ston'd horse.

_And._ Villain, 'tis thou hast murderèd my son! Thy unrelenting spirit, thou black dog, 320 That took'st no passion[187] of his fatal love, Hath forced him give his life untimely end.

_Pier._ O! that my life, her love, my dearest blood, Would but redeem one minute of his breath!

_Ant._ [_rising_.] I seize that breath. Stand not amazed, great states; I rise from death that never lived till now. Piero, keep thy vow, and I enjoy More unexpressèd height of happiness Than power of thought can reach; if not, lo, here There stands my tomb, and here a pleasing stage. 330 Most-wish'd spectators of my tragedy, To this end have I feign'd, that her fair eye, For whom I lived, might bless me ere I die.

_Mel._ Can breath depaint[188] my unconceivèd thoughts? Can words describe my infinite delight Of seeing thee, my lord Antonio? O no; conceit, breath, passion, words, be dumb, Whilst I instill the dew of my sweet bliss, In the soft pressure of a melting kiss! _Sic, sic juvat ire sub umbras._ 340

_Pier._ Fair son (now I'll be proud to call thee son), Enjoy me thus: my very breast is thine; Possess me freely, I am wholly thine.

_Ant._ Dear father----

_And._ Sweet son, sweet son, I can speak no more: My joy's passion flows above the shore, And chokes the current of my speech.

_Pier._ Young Florence prince, to you my lips must beg For a remittance of your interest.

_Gal._ In your fair daughter? with all my thought. 350 So help me faith, the nak'd truth I'll unfold; He that was never[189] hot will soon be cold.

_Pier._ No man else makes claim unto her?

_Mat._ The valiant speak truth in brief: no--

_Bal._ Truly, for Sir Jeffrey Balurdo, he disclaims to have had anything in her.

_Pier._ Then here I give her to Antonio. Royal, valiant, most respected prince, Let's clip our hands, I'll thus observe my vow: I promised twenty thousand double pistolets, 360 With the endearing to my dearest love, To him that brought thy head; thine be the gold, To solemnise our houses' unity; My love be thine, the all I have, be thine. Fill us fresh wine, the form we'll take by this; We'll drink a health, while they two sip a kiss.[190] Now there remains no discord that can sound Harsh accents to the ear of our accord: So please you,[191] niece, to match. 369

_Ros._ Troth, uncle, when my sweet-faced coz hath told me how she likes the thing called wedlock, may be I'll take a survey of the checkroll of my servants; and he that hath the best parts of--I'll prick him down for my husband.

_Bal._ For passion of love now, remember me to my mistress, lady Rossaline, when she is pricking down the good parts of her servants. As I am true knight, I grow stiff; I shall carry it.

_Pier._ I will. Sound Lydian wires, once make a pleasing note 380 On nectar streams of your sweet airs to float.

_Ant._ Here ends the comic crosses of true love; O! may the passage most successful prove!

[160] Cool.--To _keel the pot_ was to stir the contents gently in order to keep them from boiling over.

[161] Motto.

[162] So ed. 1602.--Ed. 1633 "thou wilt."

[163] A familiar form of address.

[164] A sort of velvet.

[165] In _Every Man out of his Humour_, iv. 4, after Fastidious Brisk has been describing the damage done to his finery in a duel, Carlo observes--"I wonder he speaks not of his _wrought shirt_." Gifford remarks--"The linen, both of men and women, was either so worked as to resemble the finest lace, or was ornamented by the needle with representations of fruits, flowers, passages of history, &c."

[166] Ed. 1602 "price."

[167] This play was acted by the Paul's Children, whose voices were carefully trained: hence the frequent introduction of songs.

[168] See note 2, p. 51.

[169] "Their _corkèd shoes_ to bear them high."--Stephen Gosson's _Pleasant Quips, &c._

[170] See note 6, p. 48.

[171] "Slip"--counterfeit coin.

[172] "Do me right and dub me knight."--Part of an old catch. So Silence in _2 Henry IV._, v. 3:-- "Do me right And dub me knight, Samingo."

Again in Nashe's _Summer's Last Will and Testament_:-- "_All. Monsieur Mingo for quaffing did surpass, In cup, in can, or glass._ _Bac._ Ho, well shot a toucher, a toucher. _For quaffing Toy doth pass In cup, in can, or glass._ _All. God Bacchus, do him right, And dub him knight._"

[173] Old eds. "mine."

[174] Old eds. "Millane;" but Galeatzo, son of the Duke of Florence, was the suitor whom Piero had chosen. Cf. p. 91:-- "Young Florence prince, to you my lips must be, For a remittance of your interest."

[175] Wide loose breeches.

[176] "Ruffled boot."--See notes on Middleton, i. 26, viii. 70.

[177] Motto.

[178] "'Speak pure fool.'--This is idiomatic, and is in sense equivalent to, 'I will speak like a pure fool.' Thus in _Othello_, act ii., 'Drunk? and speak parrot?'--that is, talk foolishly or idly like a parrot."--_Halliwell_.

[179] Old form of "bauble."

[180] The highest note in the scale.--Cf. Nashe's _Christ's Tears over Jerusalem_ (_Works_, ed. Grosart, v. 188):--"No, no, either you must _strain your wits an ela above_ theirs," &c. The form of expression is not uncommon.

[181] A red lattice was the distinguishing mark of a tavern.

[182] "Flyboat" (Span. filibote)--a fast-sailing vessel.

[183] "To float, to swim, as borne along or driven by wind or water."--Dyce's _Shakesp. Glossary_.

[184] A large galley.

[185] Old eds. "resolv'd."

[186] "Poor John" = inferior dried hake. (Ed. 1633 "as Poor John.")

[187] Sorrow, pity.

[188] Depict.

[189] Old eds. "nere."

[190] "Sip a kiss"--a translation of the Latin expression "oscula libare."

[191] Old eds. "your."

EPILOGUS.

_And._ Gentlemen, though I remain an armed Epilogue,[192] I stand not as a peremptory challenger of desert, either for him that composed the Comedy, or for us that acted it; but a most submissive suppliant for both. What imperfection you have seen in us, leave with us, and we'll amend it; what hath pleased you, take with you, and cherish it. You shall not be more ready to embrace anything commendable, than we will endeavour to amend all things reprovable. What we are, is by your favour. What we shall be, rests all in your applausive encouragements. [_Exeunt._

[192] It was probably in derision of Marston's "armed Epilogue" that Ben Jonson heralded _The Poetaster_ with an armed Prologue. In _Troilus and Cressida_ we have an armed Prologue:-- "And hither am I come, A Prologue armed--but not in confidence Of author's pen."

ANTONIO'S REVENGE.

_THE SECOND PART OF THE HISTORY OF ANTONIO AND MELLIDA._

_Antonios Reuenge. The second part. As it hath beene sundry times acted, by the children of Paules. Written by I. M. London. Printed for Thomas Fisher, and are to be soulde in Saint Dunstans Church-yarde._ 1602. 4to.

STORY OF THE PLAY.

Piero had been a suitor for the hand of Maria, daughter of the Duke of Ferrara, but his addresses had been rejected and Maria had married Andrugio, the offspring of the union being Antonio. When Piero, dissembling his hatred, affects to be reconciled to Andrugio, Lucio is despatched to bring Maria to the Venetian Court. Piero, at a banquet given on the eve of his daughter's marriage with Antonio, instils in Andrugio's cup a poison which has no immediate effect but works fatally after a few hours. With the help of a base creature, Strotzo, he proceeds in the night to murder Antonio's friend, Feliche, whose body is carried by Strotzo to Mellida's chamber. At sunrise Maria and Lucio arrive at Venice. Antonio, whose sleep has been troubled by hideous dreams, is abroad early, and is met by his mother as he paces disquietly in front of Mellida's chamber. Presently the window-curtain is drawn aside and there is exposed the body of Feliche, stabbed thick with wounds. While Antonio is distractedly calling upon Mellida to rise, Piero advances and proclaims himself the author of Feliche's death, protesting that he had found his daughter in the embraces of the murdered man. The scene of confusion is heightened by the entrance of Strotzo, who announces that Andrugio has died from excess of joy at his sudden change of fortunes. Mellida is put in close confinement, and a day is appointed for her trial. Strotzo is instructed by Piero to come forward at the trial and accuse Antonio of having instigated the murders of Andrugio and Feliche. But before the trial Andrugio's ghost appears to Antonio, discloses Piero's villainy, and bids Antonio take vengeance on the murderer. Antonio stabs Piero's young son Julio at Andrugio's shrine; he then disguises himself as Maria's fool and watches his opportunity for further vengeance. The trial of Mellida is held: Strotzo enters the court with a cord round his neck, declaring that he had been suborned by Antonio to commit the crimes; and officers are despatched to arrest Antonio, who in his fool's habit is watching the proceedings. It had been part of the plot that Strotzo, after making his confession, should break into passionate outbursts of sorrow and implore Piero to rid him of a dishonourable life; whereupon Piero was to spring forward, grasp the cord round Strotzo's neck as with intent to strangle him, then suddenly to relax his hold, moved by Strotzo's penitent conduct. Strotzo goes through his part of the performance; but Piero, grasping one end of the cord while Castilio (a courtier) grasps the other, is careful not to loose his hold before the victim is strangled. Presently word is brought that Antonio in a fit of distraction has flung himself from a high tower into the sea. At this news Mellida falls into a deep swoon and is conveyed to her chamber, whither Antonio after a short delay contrives to follow her, but arrives only in time to see her expire. Piero, notwithstanding his daughter's untoward death, determines that his marriage with Maria (who affects to acquiesce in the arrangement) shall take place without delay. A scheme of vengeance is contrived between Antonio, Pandulfo (Feliche's father) and Alberto (Feliche's friend). The conspirators attire themselves as maskers and appear at a banquet given by Piero on the eve of his marriage. On the appearance of the maskers Piero enquires for his son, Julio, and sends an attendant to fetch him to see the dances. After dancing a measure the maskers request Piero to have the hall cleared while they sit unmasked at the banquet. Thereupon the guests and retainers withdraw, but Piero at the maskers' request remains. He takes a seat at the banquet; the conspirators, unmasking themselves, spring forward and bind him with cords to the chair; insult over him, cut out his tongue, produce in a dish the limbs of his murdered son, and finally hack him to death with their swords. The tyrant's death is welcomed with universal joy. The conspirators are hailed as saviours of their country, and are offered high offices of state; but prefer to spend the rest of their lives in the seclusion of a religious house.

THE PROLOGUE.

The rawish dank of clumsy[193] winter ramps The fluent summer's vein; and drizzling sleet Chilleth the wan bleak cheek of the numb'd earth, Whilst snarling gusts nibble the juiceless leaves From the nak'd shudd'ring branch; and pills[194] the skin From off the soft and delicate aspects. O now, methinks, a sullen tragic scene Would suit the time with pleasing congruence. May we be happy in our weak devoir, And all part pleasèd in most wish'd content! 10 But sweat of Hercules can ne'er beget So blest an issue. Therefore, we proclaim, If any spirit breathes within this round, Uncapable of weighty passion, (As from his birth being huggèd in the arms, And nuzzled 'twixt the breasts of happiness) Who winks, and shuts his apprehension up From common sense of what men were and are, Who would not know what men must be--let such Hurry amain from our black-visaged shows: 20 We shall affright their eyes. But if a breast Nail'd to the earth with grief; if any heart Pierc'd through with anguish pant within this ring; If there be any blood whose heat is choked And stifled with true sense of misery; If ought of these strains fill this consort up-- Th' arrive most welcome. O that our power Could lackey or keep wing with our desires, That with unusèd paize[195] of style and sense, We might weigh massy in judicious scale. 30 Yet here's the prop that doth support our hopes: When our scenes falter, or invention halts, Your favour will give crutches to our faults.[196] [_Exit._

[193] Marston's use of the words _clumsy_ and _ramp_ is ridiculed in _The Poetaster_ (v. 1).

[194] Peels.

[195] An old form of _poise_.

[196] "This prologue, for its passionate earnestness, and for the tragic note of preparation which it sounds, might have preceded one of those tales of Thebes, or Pelops' line, which Milton has so highly commended, as free from the common errors in his days, 'of intermixing comic stuff with tragic sadness and gravity, brought in without discretion corruptly to gratify the people.' It is as solemn a preparative as the 'warning voice which he who saw th' Apocalypse heard cry.'"--_Charles Lamb._

_DRAMATIS PERSONÆ._[197]

PIERO SFORZA, _Duke of Venice_. ANTONIO, _son to the murdered_ ANDRUGIO, _affianced to_ MELLIDA. PANDULFO, _father to the murdered_ FELICHE. ALBERTO, _a Venetian gentleman_. BALURDO, _a rich gull_. MATZAGENTE, _a modern braggadoch_. GALEATZO, _son to the Duke of Milan_. FOROBOSCO, _a Parasite_. CASTILIO BALTHAZAR, _a spruce courtier_. LUCIO, _an old nobleman, attendant to_ MARIA. STROTZO, _a creature of_ PIERO. JULIO, _son to_ PIERO.

MARIA, ANDRUGIO'S _widow, mother to_ ANTONIO. MELLIDA, _daughter to_ PIERO, _affianced to_ ANTONIO. NUTRICHE, _attendant to_ MARIA. _Two Senators, Herald, Waiting-women, Page, &c._

_Ghost of_ ANDRUGIO, _Ghost of_ FELICHE.

THE SCENE--VENICE.

[197] There is no list of characters in the old eds.

ANTONIO'S REVENGE.