SCENE III.

ALSEMERO’S _apartment[497] in the castle_.

_Enter_ ALSEMERO _and_ JASPERINO.

JAS. Your confidence, I'm sure, is now of proof; The prospect from the garden has shew’d[498] Enough for deep suspicion. ALS. The black mask That so continually was worn upon’t Condemns the face for ugly ere’t be seen, Her despite to him, and so seeming bottomless. JAS. Touch it home then; ’tis not a shallow probe Can search this ulcer soundly; I fear you’ll find it Full of corruption: ’tis fit I leave you, She meets you opportunely from that walk; She took the back door at his parting with her. [_Exit._

ALS. Did my fate wait for this unhappy stroke At my first sight of woman? She is here.

_Enter_ BEATRICE.

BEAT. Alsemero! ALS. How do you? BEAT. How do I? Alas, how do you, [sir]? you look not well. ALS. You read me well enough, I am not well. BEAT. Not well, sir? is’t in my power to better you? ALS. Yes. BEAT. Nay, then you’re cur’d again. ALS. Pray, resolve me one question, lady. BEAT. If I can. ALS. None can so sure: are you honest? BEAT. Ha, ha, ha! that’s a broad question, my lord. ALS. But that’s not a modest answer, my lady: Do you laugh? my doubts are strong upon me. BEAT.’Tis innocence that smiles, and no rough brow Can take away the dimple in her cheek: Say I should strain a tear to fill the vault, Which would you give the better faith to? ALS. ’Twere but hypocrisy of a sadder colour, But the same stuff; neither your smiles nor tears Shall move or flatter me from my belief: You are a whore! BEAT. What a horrid sound it hath! It blasts a beauty to deformity; Upon what face soever that breath falls, It strikes it ugly: O, you have ruin’d What you can ne’er repair again! ALS. I'll all Demolish, and seek out truth within you, If there be any left; let your sweet tongue Prevent your heart’s rifling; there I'll ransack And tear out my suspicion. BEAT. You may, sir; It is an easy passage; yet, if you please, Shew me the ground whereon you lost your love; My spotless virtue may but tread on that Before I perish. ALS. Unanswerable; A ground you cannot stand on; you fall down Beneath all grace and goodness when you set Your ticklish heel on it: there was a visor Over that cunning face, and that became you; Now impudence in triumph rides upon’t; How comes this tender reconcilement else 'Twixt you and your despite, your rancorous loathing, De Flores? he that your eye was sore at sight of, He’s now become your arm’s supporter, your Lip’s saint! BEAT. Is there the cause? ALS. Worse, your lust’s devil, Your adultery! BEAT. Would any but yourself say that, 'Twould turn him to a villain! ALS. It was witness’d By the counsel of your bosom, Diaphanta. BEAT. Is your witness dead then? ALS.’Tis to be fear’d It was the wages of her knowledge; poor soul, She liv’d not long after the discovery. BEAT. Then hear a story of not much less horror Than this your false suspicion is beguil’d with; To your bed’s scandal I stand up innocence, Which even the guilt of one black other deed Will stand for proof of; your love has made me A cruel murderess. ALS. Ha! BEAT. A bloody one; I have kiss’d poison for it, strok’d a serpent: That thing of hate, worthy in my esteem Of no better employment, and him most worthy To be so employ’d, I caus’d to murder That innocent Piracquo, having no Better means than that worst to assure Yourself to me. ALS. O, the place itself e’er since Has crying been for vengeance! the temple, Where blood and beauty first unlawfully Fir’d their devotion and quench’d the right one; ’Twas in my fears at first, ’twill have it now: O, thou art all deform’d! BEAT. Forget not, sir, It for your sake was done: shall greater dangers Make the less welcome? ALS. O, thou should’st have gone A thousand leagues about to have avoided This dangerous bridge of blood! here we are lost. BEAT. Remember, I am true unto your bed. ALS. The bed itself’s a charnel, the sheets shrouds For murder’d carcasses. It must ask pause What I must do in this; meantime you shall Be my prisoner only: enter my closet; [_Exit_ BEATRICE _into closet_. I'll be your keeper yet. O, in what part Of this sad story shall I first begin? Ha! This same fellow has put me in.—

_Enter_ DE FLORES.

De Flores. DE F. Noble Alsemero! ALS. I can tell you News, sir; my wife has her commended to you. DE F. That’s news indeed, my lord; I think she would Commend me to the gallows if she could, She ever loved me so well; I thank her. ALS. What’s this blood upon your band, De Flores? DE F. Blood! no, sure ’twas wash’d since. ALS. Since when, man? DE F. Since t’other day I got a knock In a sword-and-dagger school; I think ’tis out. ALS. Yes, ’tis almost out, but ’tis perceiv’d though. I had forgot my message; this it is, What price goes murder? DE F. How, sir? ALS. I ask you, sir; My wife’s behindhand with you, she tells me, For a brave bloody blow you gave for her sake Upon Piracquo. DE F. Upon? ’twas quite through him sure: Has she confess’d it? ALS. As sure as death to both of you; And much more than that. DE F. It could not be much more; ’Twas but one thing, and that—she is a whore. ALS. I[t] could not choose but follow: O cunning devils! How should blind men know you from fair-fac’d saints? BEAT. [_within_] He lies! the villain does belie me! DE F. Let me go to her, sir. ALS. Nay, you shall to her.— Peace, crying crocodile, your sounds are heard; Take your prey to you;—get you in to her, sir: [_Exit_ DE FLORES _into closet_. I'll be your pander now; rehearse again Your scene of lust, that you may be perfect When you shall come to act it to the black audience, Where howls and gnashings shall be music to you: Clip[499] your adulteress freely, ’tis the pilot Will guide you to the _mare mortuum_, Where you shall sink to fathoms bottomless.

_Enter_ VERMANDERO, TOMASO, ALIBIUS, ISABELLA, FRANCISCUS, _and_ ANTONIO.

VER. O Alsemero! I've a wonder for you. ALS. No, sir, ’tis I, I have a wonder for you. VER. I have suspicion near as proof itself For Piracquo’s murder. ALS. Sir, I have proof Beyond suspicion for Piracquo’s murder. VER. Beseech you, hear me; these two have been disguis’d E'er since the deed was done. ALS. I have two other That were more close disguis’d than your two could be E'er since the deed was done. VER. You’ll hear me—these mine own servants. ALS. Hear me—those nearer than your servants That shall acquit them, and prove them guiltless. FRAN. That may be done with easy truth, sir. TOM. How is my cause bandied through your delays! ’Tis urgent in [my] blood, and calls for haste; Give me a brother [or] alive or dead; Alive, a wife with him; if dead, for both A recompense, for murder and adultery. BEAT. [_within_] O, O, O! ALS. Hark! ’tis coming to you. DE F. [_within_] Nay, I'll along for company. BEAT. [_within_] O, O! VER. What horrid sounds are these? ALS. Come forth, you twins Of mischief!

_Re-enter_ DE FLORES, _dragging in_ BEATRICE _wounded_.

DE F. Here we are; if you have any more To say to us, speak quickly, I shall not Give you the hearing else; I am so stout yet, And so, I think, that broken rib of mankind. VER. An host of enemies enter’d my citadel Could not amaze like this: Joanna! Beatrice! Joanna! BEAT. O, come not near me, sir, I shall defile you! I am that of your blood was taken from you For your better health; look no more upon’t, But cast it to the ground regardlessly, Let the common sewer take it from distinction: Beneath the stars, upon yon meteor [_Pointing to_ DE FLORES.

Ever hung[500] my fate, ’mongst things corruptible; I ne’er[501] could pluck it from him; my loathing Was prophet to the rest, but ne’er believ’d: Mine honour fell with him, and now my life.— Alsemero, I'm a stranger to your bed; Your bed was cozen’d on the nuptial night, For which your false bride died. ALS. Diaphanta? DE F. Yes, and the while I coupled with your mate At barley-break;[502] now we are left in hell. VER. We are all there, it circumscribes [us] here. DE F. I lov’d this woman in spite of her heart: Her love I earn’d out of Piracquo’s murder. TOM. Ha! my brother’s murderer? DE F. Yes, and her honour’s prize Was my reward; I thank life for nothing But that pleasure; it was so sweet to me, That I have drunk up all, left none behind For any man to pledge me. VER. Horrid villain! Keep life in him for further tortures. DE F. No! I can prevent you; here’s my pen-knife still; It is but one thread more [_stabbing himself_] and now ’tis cut.— Make haste, Joanna, by that token to thee, Canst not forget, so lately put in mind; I would not go to leave thee far behind. [_Dies._ BEAT. Forgive me, Alsemero, all forgive! ’Tis time to die when ’tis a shame to live. _Dies._ VER. O, my name’s enter’d now in that record Where till this fatal hour ’twas never read! ALS. Let it be blotted out; let your heart lose it, And it can never look you in the face, Nor tell a tale behind the back of life To your dishonour; justice hath so right The guilty hit, that innocence is quit By proclamation, and may joy again.— Sir, you are sensible of what truth hath done; ’Tis the best comfort that your grief can find. TOM. Sir, I am satisfied; my injuries Lie dead before me; I can exact no more, Unless my soul were loose, and could o’ertake Those black fugitives that are fled from hence,[503] To take a second vengeance; but there are wraths Deeper than mine, ’tis to be fear’d, about ’em. ALS. What an opacous body had that moon That last chang’d on us! here is beauty chang’d To ugly whoredom; here servant-obedience To a master-sin, imperious murder; I, a supposed husband, chang’d embraces With wantonness,—but that was paid before.— Your change is come too, from an ignorant wrath To knowing friendship.—Are there any more on’s? ANT. Yes, sir, I was changed too from a little ass as I was to a great fool as I am; and had like to ha' been changed to the gallows, but that you know my innocence[504] always excuses me. FRAN. I was chang’d from a little wit to be stark mad, Almost for the same purpose. ISA. Your change is still behind, But deserve best your transformation: You are a jealous coxcomb, keep schools of folly, And teach your scholars how to break your own head. ALIB. I see all apparent, wife, and will change now Into a better husband, and ne’er keep Scholars that shall be wiser than myself. ALS. Sir, you have yet a son’s duty living, Please you, accept it; let that your sorrow, As it goes from your eye, go from your heart, Man and his sorrow at the grave must part.— All we can do[505] to comfort one another, To stay a brother’s sorrow for a brother, To dry a child from the kind father’s eyes, Is to no purpose, it rather multiplies: Your only smiles have power to cause re-live The dead again, or in their rooms to give Brother a new brother, father a child; If these appear, all griefs are reconcil’d. [_Exeunt omnes._

A GAME AT CHESS.

Of _A Game at Chess_ I have seen three different editions, all 4to, n.