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A07064
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Antonios reuenge. The second part. As it hath beene sundry times acted, by the children of Paules. Written by I.M.; Antonio and Mellida. Part 2
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Marston, John, 1575?-1634.
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1602
(1602)
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STC 17474; ESTC S112254
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33,126
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82
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Pandulpho harke My lustfull daughter dies start not she dies I pursue iustice I loue sanctitie And an vndefiled temple of pure thoughts Shall I speake freely Good Andrugio's dead And I doe feare a fetch but vmh would I durst speake I doe mistrust but vmh death is he all all man Hath he no part of mother in him ha No licorish womanish inquisitiuenesse Pan. Andrugio's deade Pie I and I feare his owne vnnaturall blood To whome he gaue life hath giuen death for life How could he come on I see false suspect Is vicde wrung hardly in a vertuous heart Well I could giue you reason for my doubts You are of honour'd birth my very friende You know how god-like t is to roote out sin Antonio is a villaine Will you ioyne In oath with me against the traitors life And sweare you knewe he sought his fathers death I lou'd him well yet I loue iustice more Our friends we should affect iustice adore Pan. My Lord the clapper of my mouth 's not glibd With court oyle t will not strike on both sides yet Pie T is iust that subiectes acte commaunds of kings Pan. Commaund then iust and honorable things Pie Euen so my selfe then will traduce his guilt Pan. Beware take heed least guiltlesse blood be spilt Pie Where onely honest deeds to kings are free It is no empire but a beggery Pan. Where more than noble deeds to kings are free It is no empire but a tyranny Pie Tush iuicelesse graybeard t is immunity Proper to princes that our state exactes Our subiects not alone to beare but praise our acts Pan. O but that prince that worthfull praise aspires From hearts and not from lips applause desires Pie Pish true praise the brow of common men doth ring False only girts the temple of a king He that hath strength and 's ignorant of power He was not made to rule but to be rul'd Pan. T is praise to doe not what we can but should Pie Hence doting Stoick by my hope of blisse I le make thee wretched Pan. Defyance to thy power thou rifted Iawne Now by the lou'd heauen sooner thou shalt Rince thy soule ribs from the black filth of sinne That soots thy heart then make me wretched Pish Thou canst not coupe me vp Hadst thou a Iaile With trebble walles like antick Babilon Pandulpho can get out I tell thee Duke I haue ould Fortunatus wishing cappe And can be where I list euen in a trice I le skippe from earth into the armes of heauen And from tryumphall arch of blessednesse Spit on thy froathy breast Thou canst not slaue Or banish me I will be free at home Maugre the bearde of greatnesse The port holes Of sheathed spirit are nere corb'd vp But still stand open readie to discharge Their pretious shot into the shrowds of heauen Pie O torture slaue I banish thee the towne Thy natiue seate of birth Pa. How proud thou speak'st I tell thee Duke the blasts Of the swolne cheekt winds nor all the breath of kings Can puffe me out my natiue seat of birth The earth 's my bodies and the heauen 's my soules Most natiue place of birth which they will keepe Despite the menace of mortalitie Why Duke That 's not my natiue place where I was rockt A wise mans home is wheresoere he is wise Now that from man not from the place doth rise Pie Wold I were deafe ô plague hence dotard wretch Tread not in court All that thou hast I seize His quiet 's firmer then I can disease Pan. Goe boast vnto thy flattring Sycophants Pandulpho's slaue Piero hath orethrowne Loose Fortunes rags are lost my owne 's my owne ¶ Piero's going out lookes backe Exeunt at seuerall doores T is true Piero thy vext heart shall see Thou hast but tript my slaue not conquerd mee SCENA TERTIA ¶ Enter Antonio with a booke Lucio Alberto Antonio in blacke Alb. NAY sweet be comforted take counsell and Ant. Alberto peace that griefe is wanton sick Whose stomacke can digest and brooke the dyet Of stale ill relisht counsell Pigmie cares Can shelter vnder patience shield but gyant griefes Will burst all couert Lu. My Lord t is supper time Ant. Drinke deepe Alberto eate good Lucio But my pin'd heart shall eat on naught but woe Alb. My Lord we dare not leaue you thus alone Ant. You cannot leaue Antonio alone The chamber of my breast is euen throngd With firme attendance that forsweares to flinch I haue a thing sits here it is not griefe T is not despaire nor the most plague That the most wretched are infected with But the most greefull despairing wretched Accursed miserable O for heauens sake Forsake me now you see how light I am And yet you force me to defame my patience Lu. Faire gentle prince Ant. Away thy voice is hatefull thou dost buzze And beat my eares with intimations That Mellida that Mellida is light And stained with adulterous luxury I cannot brook 't I tell the Lucio Sooner will I giue faith that vertue 's scant In princes courts will be adorn'd with wreath Of choyce respect and indeerd intimate Sooner will I beleeue that friendships raine Will curbe ambition from vtilitie Then Mellida is light Alas poore soule Didst ere see her good heart hast heard her speake Kinde kinde soule Incredulitie it selfe Would not be so brasse hearted as suspect so modest cheeks Lu. My Lord Ant. Away a selfe-one guilt doth onely hatch distrust But a chaste thought 's as farre from doubt as lust I intreat you leaue me Alb. Will you endeauour to forget your griefe Ant. I faith I will good friend I faith I will I le come and eate with you Alberto see I am taking Physicke heer 's Philosophie Good honest leaue me I le drinke wine anone Alb. Since you enforce vs faire prince we are gone Exeunt Alberto and Lucio ¶ Antonio reades A. Ferte fortiter hoc est quo deum antecedatis Ille enim extra patientiam malorum vos supra Contemnite dolorem aut soluetur aut soluet Contemnite fortunā nullū telū quo feriret animum habet Pish thy mother was not lately widdowed Thy deare affied loue lately defam'd With blemish of foule lust when thou wrot'st thus Thou wrapt in furres beaking thy lymbs 'fore fiers Forbidst the frozē Zone to shudder Ha ha t is naught But fomie bubling of a fleamie braine Naught els but smoake O what danke marrish spirit But would be fyred with impatience At my No more no more he that was neuer blest With height of birth faire expectation Of mounted fortunes knowes not what it is To be the pittied obiect of the worlde O poore Antonio thou maist sigh Mell. Aye me Ant. And curse Pan. Black powers Ant. And cry Ma. O heauen Ant. And close laments with Alb. O me most miserable Pan. Woe for my deare deare sonne Mar. Woe for my deare deare husband Mel. Woe for my deare deare loue Ant. Woe for me all close all your woes
Foole fop foole Marry muffe I pray you how manie fooles haue you seene goe in a suite of Sattin I hope yet I doe not look a foole ifaith a foole Gods bones I scorn 't with my heele S'neaks and I were worth but three hundred pound a yeare more I could sweare richly nay but as poore as I am I will sweare the fellowe hath wrong Piero Young Galeatzo I a proper man Florence a goodly citie it shall be so I le marrie her to him instantly Then Genoa mine by my Mariaes match Which I le solemnize ere next setting Sun Thus Venice Florence Genoa strongly leagu'd Excellent excellent I le conquer Rome Pop out the light of bright religion And then helter skelter all cock sure Ba. Goe to t is iust the man hath wrong go to Pie Goe to thou shalt haue right Go to Castilio Clap him into the Palace dungeon Lappe him in rags and let him feede on slime That smeares the dungeon cheeke Away with him Bal. In verie good truth now I le nere do so more this one time and Pie Away with him obserue it strictly goe Ba. Why then ô wight alas poore knight O welladay sir Gefferey Let Poets roare And all deplore for now I bid you god night Exit Balurdo with Castilio Ma. O pittious end of loue ô too too rude hand Of vnrespectiue death Alas sweete maide Pi. Forbear me heauen What intend these plaints Mar. The beautie of admir'd creation The life of modest vnmixt puritie Our sexes glorie Mellida is Pie What ô heauen what Ma. Deade Pie May it not sad your thoughts how Ma. Being laid vpon her bed she graspt my hād And kissing it spake thus Thou very pore Why dost not weepe The Iewell of thy browe The rich adornement that inchac't thy breast Is lost thy son my loue is lost is deade And doe I liue to say Antonio's deade And haue I liu'd to see his vertues blurd With guiltlesse blots O world thou art too subtile For honest natures to conuerse withall Therefore I le leaue thee farewell mart of woe I fly to clip my loue Antonio With that her head sunk down vpon her brest Her cheeke chang'd earth her senses slept in rest Vntill my foole that press'd vnto the bed Screch't out so lowd that he brought back her soule Calde her againe that her bright eyes gan ope And starde vpon him he audatious foole Dar'd kisse her hand wisht her soft rest lou'd bride She fumbled out thanks good and so she dide Piero And so she dide I doe not vse to weepe But by thy loue out of whose fertile sweete I hope for as faire fruite I am deepe sad I will not stay my mariage for all this Castilio Forobosco all Straine all your wits winde vp inuention Vnto his highest bent to sweete this night Make vs drinke Lethe by your queint conceipts That for two daies obliuion smother griefe But when my daughters exequies approach Let 's all turne sighers Come despight of fate Sound lowdest musick le ts pase out in state ¶ The Cornets sound Exeunt SCENA QVARTA ¶ Enter Antonio solus in fooles habit Ant. I Heauen thou maist thou maist omnipotence What vermine bred of putrifacted slime Shall dare to expostulate with thy decrees O heauen thou maist indeede she was all thine All heauenly I did but humbly beg To borrowe her of thee a little time Thou gau'st her me as some weake breasted dame Giueth her infant puts it out to nurse And when it once goes high-lone takes it back She was my vitall blood and yet and yet I le not blaspheame Looke here beholde Antonio puts off his cap and lyeth iust vpon his back I turne my prostrate breast vpon thy face And vent a heauing sigh O heare but this I am a poore poore Orphant a weake weak childe The wrack of splitted fortune the very Ouze The quick sand that deuours all miserie Beholde the valiant'st creature that doth breath For all this I dare liue and I will liue Onely to numme some others cursed bloode With the dead palsie of like misery Then death like to a stifling Incubus Lie on my bosome Loe sir I am sped My breast is Golgotha graue for the deade SCENA QVINTA ¶ Enter Pandulpho Alberto and a Page carrying Feliches trunke in a winding sheete and lay it thwart Antonios breast Pan. ANTONIO kisse my foote I honour thee In laying thwart my blood vpon thy breast I tell thee boy he was Pandulphos sonne And I doe grace thee with supporting him Young man The dominering Monarch of the earth He who hath naught that fortunes gripe can seize He who is all impregnably his owne Hee whose great heart heauen can not force with force Vouchsafes his loue Non seruio Deo sed assentio Ant. I ha lost a good wife Pan. Didst finde her good or didst thou make her good If found thou maist refinde because thou hadst her If made the worke is lost but thou that mad'st her Liu'st yet as cunning Hast lost a good wife Thrice blessed man that lost her whilst she was good Faire young vnblemisht constant louing chaste I tell thee youth age knows yong loues seeme grac't VVhich with gray cares rude iarres are oft defac't An. But shee was full of hope Pan. May be may be but that which may be stood Stands now without all may she died good And dost thou grieue Alberto I ha lost a true friend Pan. I liue incompast with two blessed soules Thou lost a good wife thou lost a trew friend ha Two of the rarest lendings of the heauens But lendings which at the fixed day of pay Set downe by fate thou must restore againe O what vnconscionable soules are here Are you all like the spoke-shaues of the Church Haue you no mawe to restitution Hast lost a true friend cuz then thou hadst one I tell thee youth t is all as difficult To finde true friend in this apostate age That balkes all right affiance twixt two hearts As t is to finde a fixed modest heart Vnder a painted breast Lost a true friend O happie soule that lost him whilst he was true Beleeue it cuz I to my teares haue found Oft durts respect makes firmer friends vnsounde Alb. You haue lost a good sonne Pan. Why there 's the cōfort on t that he was good Alas poore innocent Alb. Why weepes mine vncle Pan. Ha dost aske me why ha ha Good cuz looke here He showes him his sonnes breast Man will breake out despight Philosophie Why all this while I ha but plaid a part Like to some boy that actes a Tragedie Speakes burly words and raues out passion But when he thinks vpon his infant weaknesse He droopes his eye I spake more then a god Yet am lesse then a man I am the miserablest sowle that breathes Antonio starts vp Ant. S'lid sir ye lye by th' heart of griefe thou lyest I scorn 't that any wretched should suruiue Outmounting me in that Superlatiue Most miserable