Destruction as horrid, and as sudden,
Shall fall upon thee, as if hell stood open,
And thou wert sinking thither.
Theoph. Hear me, yet;
Hear, for my service past.
Artem. What will he say?
Theoph. As ever I deserved your favour, hear me,
And grant one boon: 'tis not for life I sue for;
Nor is it fit that I, that ne'er knew pity
To any Christian, being one myself,
Should look for any; no, I rather beg
The utmost of your cruelty. I stand
Accountable for thousand Christians' deaths;
And, were it possible that I could die
A day for every one, then live again
To be again tormented, 'twere to me
An easy penance, and I should pass through
A gentle cleansing fire: but, that denied me,
It being beyond the strength of feeble nature,
My suit is you would have no pity on me.
In mine own house there are a thousand engines
Of studied cruelty, which I did prepare
For miserable Christians; let me feel
As the Sicilian did his brazen bull,
The horrid'st you can find; and I will say,
In death, that you are merciful.
In this thou shalt prevail. Go fetch them hither:
[Exeunt some of the Guard.
Death shall put on a thousand shapes at once,
And so appear before thee; racks, and whips!
Thy flesh, with burning pincers torn, shall feed
The fire that heats them.; and what's wanting
To the torture of thy body, I'll supply
In punishing thy mind. Fetch all the Christians
That are in hold; and here, before his face,
Cut them in pieces.
Theoph. "Tis not in thy power:
It was the first good deed I ever did.
They are removed out of thy reach; howe'er,
I was determined for my sins to die,
I first took order for their liberty;
And still I dare thy worst.
Re-enter Guard with racks and other instruments of torture.
Diocle. Bind him, I say;
Make every artery and sinew crack:
The slave that makes him give the loudest shriek, Shall have ten thousand drachmas. Wretch! I'll force thee
To curse the Power thou worship'st.
Theoph. Never, never:
No breath of mine shall e'er be spent on him, [They torment him.
But what shall speak his majesty or mercy.
I'm honour'd in my sufferings. Weak tormentors,
More tortures, more,-alas! you are unskilful-
For Heaven's sake more; my breast is yet untorn:
Here purchase the reward that was propounded.
The irons cool,-here are arms yet, and thighs;
Spare no part of me.
Max. He endures beyond
The sufferance of a man.
Sap. No sigh nor groan,
To witness he hath feeling.
Diocle. Harder, villains!
Enter HARPAX.
Harp. Unless that he blaspheme, he's lost for
If torments ever could bring forth despair,
Let these compel him to it :-Oh me!
My ancient enemies again!
[Falls down. Enter DOROTHEA in a white robe, a crown upon her head, led in by ANGELO; ANTONINUS, CALISTA, and CHRISTETA following, all in white, but less glorious; ANGELO holds out a crown to THEOPHILUS.
Theoph. Most glorious vision!
Did e'er so hard a bed yield man a dream
So heavenly as this? I am confirm'd,
Confirm'd, you blessed spirits, and make haste
To take that crown of immortality
You offer to me. Death! till this blest minute,
Hasten thee now, for any pain I suffer,
I never thought thee slow-paced; nor would I
But that thou keep'st me from a glorious wreath,
Which through this stormy way I would creep to,
Oh!' now I feel thee:-blessed spirits! I come;
And, humbly kneeling, with humility wear it.
And, witness for me all these wounds and scars,
I die a soldier in the Christian wars. [Dies.
Sap. I have seen thousands tortured, but ne'er
yet
A constancy like this.
Harp. I am twice damn'd.
Ang. Haste to thy place appointed, cursed fiend!
[HARPAX sinks with thunder and lightning. In spite of hell, this soldier's not thy prey; 'Tis I have won, thou that hast lost the day. [Exit with DOR. &e.
Diocle. I think the centre of the earth be crack'd
Yet I stand still unmoved, and will go on.
The persecution that is here begun,
Through all the world with violence shall run.
[Flourish. Exeunt
TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE, AND MUCH ESTEEMED FOR HER HIGH BIRTH, BUT MORE
ADMIRED FOR HER VIRTUE,
THE LADY KATHERINE STANHOPE,
WIFE TO PHILIP LORD STANHOPE, BARON OF SHELFORD.
MADAM,-If I were not most assured that works of this nature have found both patronage and protection amongst the greatest princesses of Italy, and are at this day cherished by persons most eminent in our kingdom, I should not presume to offer these my weak and imperfect labours at the altar of your favour. Let the example of others, more knowing, and more experienced in this kindness (if my boldness offend), plead my pardon, and the rather, since there is
no other means left me (my misfortunes having
cast me on this course) to publish to the world
(if it hold the least good opinion of me) that I
am ever your ladyship's creature. Vouchsafe,
therefore, with the never-failing clemency of
your noble disposition, not to contemn the tender
of his duty, who, while he is, ever will be
An humble servant
to your Ladyship, and yours, PHILIP MASSINGER.
An Officer.
Two Doctors.
Two Couriers.
MARCELIA, the Duchess, Wife to SFORZA.
ISABELLA, Mother to SFORZA.
MARIANA, Wife to FRANCISCO, and Sister to
SFORZA.
EUGENIA, Sister to FRANCISCO.
A Gentlewoman.
Guards, Servants, Attendants.
SCENE. For the First and Second Acts, in Milan; during part of the Third, in the
Imperial Camp near Pavia; the rest of the play, in Milan
Unless he read it in Geneva print,'
Lay him by the heels.
Jul. But think you 'tis a fault
To be found sober?
Grac. It is capital treason:
Or, if you mitigate it, let such pay
Forty crowns to the poor: but give a pension
To all the magistrates you find singing catches,
Or their wives dancing; for the courtiers reeling,
And the duke himself, I dare not say distemper'd,
But kind, and in his tottering chair carousing,
They do the country service. If you meet
One that eats bread, a child of ignorance,
And bred up in the darkness of no drinking,
1 Geneva print-alluding to the spirituous liquor so called.-MASON.
2 distemper'd-drunk.-GIFFORD.
I know as you are noble, you are honest,
And capable of secrets of more weight
Than now I shall deliver. If that Sforza,
The present duke (though his whole life hath been
But one continued pilgrimage through dangers,
Affrights, and horrors, which his fortune, guided
By his strong judgment, still hath overcome),
Appears now shaken, it deserves no wonder:
All that his youth hath labour'd for, the harvest
Sown by his industry ready to be reap'd too,
Being now at stake; and all his hopes confirm'd,
Or lost for ever.
Steph. I know no such hazard:
His guards are strong and sure, his coffers full;
The people well affected; and so wisely
His provident care hath wrought, that though
In most parts of our western world, there is
No enemy near us.
Tib. Dangers, that we see
To threaten ruin, are with ease prevented;
But those strike deadly, that come unexpected:
The lightning is far off, yet, soon as seen,
We may behold the terrible effects
That it produceth. But I'll help your knowledge,
And make his cause of fear familiar to you.
The wars so long continued between
The emperor Charles, and Francis the French king,
Have interess'd,' in either's cause, the most
Of the Italian princes; among which, Sforza,
As one of greatest power, was sought by both;
But with assurance, having one his friend,
The other lived his enemy.
Steph. 'Tis true:
And 'twas a doubtful choice.
Tib. But he, well knowing,
And hating too, it seems, the Spanish pride, Lent his assistance to the king of France: Which hath so far incensed the emperor, That all his hopes and honours are embark'd With his great patron's fortune.
Steph. Which stands fair,
For aught I yet can hear.
Tib. But should it change,
The duke's undone. They have drawn to the field
Two royal armies, full of fiery youth;
Of equal spirit to dare, and power to do:
So near intrench'd, that 'tis beyond all hope
Of human counsel they can e'er be severed,
Until it be determined by the sword
Who hath the better cause: for the success,
Concludes the victor innocent, and the vanquish'd
Most miserably guilty. How uncertain
The fortune of the war is, children know;
And, it being in suspense on whose fair tent
Wing'd Victory will make her glorious stand,
You cannot blame the duke, though he appear
Perplex'd and troubled.
In such a time, when every knee should bend
For the success and safety of his person,
Are these loud triumphs! in my weak opinion,
They are unseasonable.
But only in the cause to be excused.
It is the duchess' birthday, once a year
Solemnized with all pomp and ceremony;
In which the duke is not his own, but hers:
Nay, every day, indeed, he is her creature,
For never man so doted;-but to tell
The tenth part of his fondness to a stranger,
Would argue me of fiction.
Steph. She's indeed
A lady of most exquisite form.
Tib. She knows it,
And how to prize it.
Steph. 1 ne'er heard her tainted
In any point of honour.
She's constant to his bed, and well deserves
His largest favours. But when beauty is
Stamp'd on great women, great in birth and
And blown by flatterers greater than it is,
"Tis seldom unaccompanied with pride;
Nor is she that way free: presuming on
The duke's affection, and her own desert,
She bears herself with such a majesty,
Looking with scorn on all as things beneath her,
That Sforza's mother, that would lose no part
Of what was once her own, nor his fair sister,
A lady too acquainted with her worth,
Will brook it well; and howsoe'er their hate
Is smother'd for a time, 'tis more than fear'd
It will at length break out.
Steph. He in whose power it is,
Turn all to the best!
Tib. Come, let us to the court;
We there shall see all bravery and cost,
That art can boast of.
Steph. I'll bear you company.
Another Room in the same.
And, madam, if you please receive my counsel,
As Sforza is your son, you may command him;
And, as a sister, you may challenge from him
A brother's love and favour: but, this granted,
Consider he's the prince, and you his subjects,
And not to question or contend with her
Whom he is pleased to honour. Private men
Prefer their wives; and shall he, being a prince,
And blest with one that is the paradise
Of sweetness, and of beauty, to whose charge
The stock of women's goodness is given up,
Not use her like herself?
Isab. You are ever forward
To sing her praises.
Mari. Others are as fair;
I am sure, as noble.
Fran. I detract from none,
In giving her what's due. Were she deform'd,
Yet being the duchess, I stand bound to serve
her;
But, as she is, to admire her. Never wife
Met with a purer heat her husband's fervour;
A happy pair, one in the other blest!
She confident in herself he's wholly hers,
And cannot seek for change; and he secure,
That 'tis not in the power of man to tempt her.
And therefore to contest with her, that is
The stronger and the better part of him,
Is more than folly: you know him of a nature
Not to be played with; and, should you forget
To obey him as your prince, he'll not remember
The duty that he owes you.
With envy, while I triumph in mine own.
Oh mother, look on her; sister, admire her!
And, since this present age yields not a woman
Worthy to be her second, borrow of
Times past, and let imagination help,
Of those canonized ladies Sparta boasts of,
And, in her greatness, Rome was proud to owe,
To fashion one; yet still you must confess,
The phoenix of perfection ne'er was seen,
But in my fair Marcelia.
Fran. She's indeed
The wonder of all times.
Tib. Your excellence,
Though I confess you give her but her own,
Forces her modesty to the defence
Of a sweet blush.
Sfor. It need not, my Marcelia;
When most I strive to praise thee, I appear
A poor detractor: for thou art indeed
So absolute in body and in mind,
That, but to speak the least part to the height,
Would ask an angel's tongue, and yet then end
In silent admiration!
Isab. You still court her,
As if she were a mistress, not your wife.
Sfor. A mistress, mother! she is more to me,
And every day deserves more to be sued to.
Such as are cloy'd with those they have em-
braced,
May think their wooing done: no night to me
But is a bridal one, where Hymen lights
His torches fresh and new; and those delights,
Which are not to be clothed in airy sounds,
Come, clear our brows, and let us to the banquet; Enjoy'd, beget desires as full of heat,
But not to serve his idol.
Mari. I shall do
What may become the sister of a prince;
But will not stoop beneath it.
Fran. Yet, be wise;
Soar not too high, to fall; but stoop to rise.
A State Room in the same.
Enter three Gentlemen, setting forth a banquet.
1 Gent. Quick, quick, for love's sake! let the
court put on
Her choicest outside: cost and bravery1
Be only thought of.
2 Gent. All that may be had
And jovial fervour, as when first I tasted
Her virgin fruit.-Blest night! and be it num-
ber'd
Amongst those happy ones, in which a blessing
Was, by the full consent of all the stars,
Conferr'd upon mankind.
Marc. My worthiest lord!
The only object I behold with pleasure,—
My pride, my glory, in a word, my all!
Bear witness, heaven, that I esteem myself
In nothing worthy of the meanest praise
You can bestow, unless it be in this,
That in my heart I love and honour you.
And, but that it would smell of arrogance,
To speak my strong desire and zeal to serve you,
I then could say, these eyes yet never saw
The rising sun, but that my vows and prayers
Were sent to heaven for the prosperity
To please the eye, the ear, taste, touch, or smell, And safety of my lord: nor have I ever
Are carefully provided.
3 Gent. There's a masque:
Have you heard what's the invention ?
1 Gent. No matter:
It is intended for the duchess' honour;
And if it give her glorious attributes,
As the most fair, most virtuous, and the rest,
"Twill please the duke. [Loud music.] They come.
3 Gent. All is in order.
Flourish. Enter TIBERIO, STEPHANO, FRAN-
CISCO, SFORZA, MARCELIA, ISABELLA, MARI-
ANA, and Attendants.
Sfor. You are the mistress of the feast-sit
here,
Oh my soul's comfort! and when Sforza bows
Thus low to do you honour, let none think
The meanest service they can pay my love,
But as a fair addition to those titles
They stand possessed of. Let me glory in
My happiness, and mighty kings look pale
1 bravery-show, decoration.
Had other study, but how to appear
Worthy your favour; and that iny embraces
Might yield a fruitful harvest of content
For all your noble travail, in the purchase
Of her that's still your servant. By these lips,
Which, pardon me, that I presume to kiss-
Sfor. Oh swear, for ever swear!
Marc. I ne'er will seek
Delight but in your pleasure: and desire,
When you are sated with all earthly glories,
And age and honours make you fit for heaven,
That one grave may receive us.
Sfor. "Tis believed,
Believed, my blest one.
Mari. How she winds herself
Into his soul!
Sfor. Sit all.-Let others feed
On those gross cates, while Sforza banquets with
Immortal viands ta'en in at his eyes.
1 absolute-perfect.
2 cates-provisions, dainties.
Is worse than to have lost; and to despair,
Is but to antedate those miseries
That must fall on us; all my hopes depending
Upon this battle's fortune. In my soul,
Methinks, there should be that imperious power
By supernatural, not usual means,
T'inform me what I am. The cause consider'd, Why should I fear? The French are bold and strong,
Their numbers full, and in their counsels wise;
But then, the haughty Spaniard is all fire,
Hot in his executions; fortunate
In his attempts; married to victory:
Ay, there it is that shakes me.
Fran. Excellent lady,
This day was dedicated to your honour;
One gale of your sweet breath will easily
Disperse these clouds; and, but yourself, there's
Fran. They wait your highness' pleasure,
And when you please to have it.
Sfor. Bid them enter:
Come, make me happy once again. I am rapt-
'Tis not to-day, to-morrow, or the next,
But all my days and years shall be employ'd
To do thee honour.
Marc. And my life to serve you.
[A horn without. Sfor. Another post! Go hang him, hang him, I say;
I will not interrupt my present pleasures, Although his message should import my head: Hang him, I say.
Marc. Nay, good sir, I am pleased To grant a little intermission to you; Who knows but he brings news we wish to hear, To heighten our delights?
Sfor. As wise as fair!
Enter another Courier.
Sfor. Sick to the death, Marcelia. Remove These signs of mirth; they were ominous, and
but usher'd
Sorrow and ruin.
Marc. Bless us, heaven!
Isab. My son.
Marc. What sudden change is this?
Sfor. All leave the room;
I'll bear alone the burden of my grief,
And must admit no partner. I am yet
Your prince, where's your obedience ?-Stay,
Marcelia;
I cannot be so greedy of a sorrow,
In which you must not share.
[Exeunt TIBERIO, STEPHANO, FRANCISCO,
ISABELLA, MARIANA, and Attendants.
Marc. And cheerfully
I will sustain my part. Why look you pale? Where is that wonted constancy and courage That dared the worst of fortune? where is Sforza, To whom all dangers that fright common men, Appear'd but panic terrors? why do you eye me With such fix'd looks? Love, counsel, duty, service,
May flow from me, not danger.
Sfor. Oh Marcelia!
It is for thee I fear; for thee, thy Sforza
Shakes like a coward: for myself, unmoved,
My general slain, and he, on whom my hopes
I could have heard my troops were cut in pieces,
Of rule, of state, of life, had their dependence,
The king of France, my greatest friend, made
To so proud enemies.
Marc. Then you have just cause
To show you are a man.
Sfor. All this were nothing,
Though I add to it, that I am assured,
For giving aid to this unfortunate king,
The emperor, incens'd, lays his command
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