SCENE II.--_Before a Church.

_Enter_ FRANCISCO DE MEDICIS, LODOVICO, GASPARO, _and six_ Ambassadors.

_Fran. de Med._ So, my lord, I commend your diligence. Guard well the conclave; and, as the order is, Let none have conference with the cardinals.

_Lod._ I shall, my lord.--Room for the ambassadors!

_Gasp._ They're wondrous brave[76] to-day: why do they wear These several habits?

_Lod._ O, sir, they are knights Of several orders: That lord i' the black cloak, with the silver cross, Is Knight of Rhodes; the next, Knight of St. Michael; That, of the Golden Fleece; the Frenchman, there, Knight of the Holy Ghost; my lord of Savoy, Knight of the Annunciation; the Englishman Is Knight of the honoured Garter, dedicated Unto their saint, St. George. I could describe to you Their several institutions, with the laws Annexèd to their orders; but that time Permits not such discovery.

_Fran. de Med._ Where's Count Lodowick?

_Lod._ Here, my lord.

_Fran. de Med._ 'Tis o' the point of dinner time: Marshal the cardinals' service.

_Lod._ Sir, I shall.

_Enter_ Servants, _with several dishes covered._

Stand, let me search your dish: who's this for?

_Serv._ For my Lord Cardinal Monticelso.

_Lod._ Whose this?

_Serv._ For my Lord Cardinal of Bourbon.

_Fr. Am._ Why doth he search the dishes? to observe What meat is drest?

_Eng. Am._ No, sir, but to prevent Lest any letters should be conveyed in, To bribe or to solicit the advancement Of any cardinal. When first they enter, 'Tis lawful for the ambassadors of princes To enter with them, and to make their suit For any man their prince affecteth best; But after, till a general election, No man may speak with them.

_Lod._ You that attend on the lord cardinals, Open the window, and receive their viands!

_A Cardinal._ [_At the window._] You must return the service: the lord cardinals Are busied 'bout electing of the Pope; They have given over scrutiny, and are fall'n To admiration.

_Lod._ Away, away!

_Fran. de Med._ I'll lay a thousand ducats you hear news. Of a Pope presently. Hark! sure, he's elected: Behold, my Lord of Arragon appears On the church-battlements.

_Arragon._ [_On the church battlements._] _Denuntio vobis_[77] _gaudium magnum. Reverendissimus cardinalis Lorenzo de Monticelso electus est in sedem apostolicam, et elegit sibi nomen Paulum Quartum._

_Omnes. Vivat sanctus pater Paulus Quartus!_

_Enter_ Servant.

_Serv._ Vittoria, my lord,--

_Fran. de Med._ Well, what of her?

_Serv._ Is fled the city,--

_Fran. de Med._ Ha!

_Serv._ With Duke Brachiano.

_Fran. de Med._ Fled! Where's the Prince Giovanni?

_Serv._ Gone with his father.

_Fran. de Med._ Let the matrona of the convertites Be apprehended.--Fled! O, damnable! [_Exit_ Servant. How fortunate are my wishes! why, 'twas this I only laboured: I did send the letter To instruct him what to do. Thy fame, fond[78] duke, I first have poisoned; directed thee the way To marry a whore: what can be worse? This follows,-- The hand must act to drown the passionate tongue: I scorn to wear a sword and prate of wrong.

_Enter_ MONTICELSO _in state._

_Mont. Concedimus vobis apostolicam benedictionem et remissionem peccatorum._ My lord reports Vittoria Corombona Is stol'n from forth the house of convertites By Brachiano, and they're fled the city. Now, though this be the first day of our state, We cannot better please the divine power Than to sequester from the holy church These cursèd persons. Make it therefore known, We do denounce excommunication Against them both: all that are theirs in Rome We likewise banish. Set on. [_Exeunt_ MONTICELSO, _his train_, Ambassadors, _&c._

_Fran. de Med._ Come, dear Lodovico; You have ta'en the sacrament to prosecute The intended murder.

_Lod._ With all constancy. But, sir, I wonder you'll engage yourself In person, being a great prince.

_Fran. de Med._ Divert me not. Most of his court are of my faction, And some are of my council. Noble friend, Our danger shall be like in this design: Give leave, part of the glory may be mine. [_Exeunt_ FRAN. DE MED. _and_ GASPARO.

_Re-enter_ MONTICELSO.

_Mont._ Why did the Duke of Florence with such care Labour your pardon? say.

_Lod._ Italian beggars will resolve you that, Who, begging of an alms, bid those they beg of, Do good for their own sakes; or it may be, He spreads his bounty with a sowing hand, Like kings, who many times give out of measure, Not for desert so much, as for their pleasure.

_Mont._ I know you're cunning. Come, what devil was that That you were raising?

_Lod._ Devil, my lord!

_Mont._ I ask you How doth the duke employ you, that his bonnet Fell with such compliment unto his knee, When he departed from you?

_Lod._ Why, my lord, He told me of a resty Barbary horse Which he would fain have brought to the career, The sault, and the ring-galliard;[79] now, my lord, I have a rare French rider.

_Mont._ Take you heed Lest the jade break your neck. Do you put me off With your wild horse-tricks? Sirrah, you do lie. O, thou'rt a foul black cloud, and thou dost threat A violent storm!

_Lod._ Storms are i' the air, my lord: I am too low to storm.

_Mont._ Wretched creature! I know that thou art fashioned for all ill, Like dogs that once get blood, they'll ever kill. About some murder? was't not?

_Lod._ I'll not tell you: And yet I care not greatly if I do; Marry, with this preparation. Holy father, I come not to you as an intelligencer, But as a penitent sinner: what I utter Is in confession merely; which you know Must never be revealed.

_Mont._ You have o'erta'en me.

_Lod._ Sir, I did love Brachiano's duchess dearly, Or rather I pursued her with hot lust, Though she ne'er knew on't. She was poisoned; Upon my soul; she was; for which I have sworn To avenge her murder.

_Mont._ To the Duke of Florence?

_Lod._ To him I have.

_Mont._ Miserable creature! If thou persist in this, 'tis damnable. Dost thou imagine thou canst slide on blood, And not be tainted with a shameful fall? Or, like the black and melancholic yew-tree, Dost think to root thyself in dead men's graves, And yet to prosper? Instruction to thee Comes like sweet showers to over-hardened ground; They wet, but pierce not deep. And so I leave thee, With all the Furies hanging 'bout thy neck, Till by thy penitence thou remove this evil, In conjuring from thy breast that cruel devil. [_Exit._

_Lod._ I'll give it o'er; he says 'tis damnable, Besides I did expect his suffrage, By reason of Camillo's death.

_Re-enter_ FRANCISCO DE MEDICIS _with a_ Servant.

_Fran. de Med._ Do you know that count?

_Serv._ Yes, my lord.

_Fran. de Med._ Bear him these thousand ducats to his lodging; Tell him the Pope hath sent them.--[_Aside._] Happily That will confirm him more than all the rest. [_Exit._

_Serv._ Sir,--[_Exit._

_Lod._ To me, sir?

_Serv._ His Holiness hath sent you a thousand crowns, And wills you, if you travel, to make him Your patron for intelligence.

_Lod._ His creature ever to be commanded. [_Exit_ Servant. Why, now 'tis come about. He railed upon me; And yet these crowns were told out and laid ready Before he knew my voyage. O the art, The modest form of greatness! that do sit, Like brides at wedding-dinners, with their looks turned From the least wanton jest, their puling stomach Sick of the modesty, when their thoughts are loose, Even acting of those hot and lustful sports Are to ensue about midnight: such his cunning: He sounds my depth thus with a golden plummet. I am doubly armed now. Now to the act of blood, There's but three Furies found in spacious hell, But in a great man's breast three thousand dwell. [_Exit._

ACT THE FIFTH.