The Tuscan duke, thus much to you, Gonzaga, (A word not suitable to his power and greatness) The fair Matilda, for I dare not take His royal bed, to raise her to a height Her flattering hopes could not aspire, where she Gon. Suppose this granted. Uber. Or, if denied, what follows? Alon. Present war, With all extremities the conqueror can Uber. Grant me license To answer this defiance. What intelligence Are his unjust invading arms of fire? Why should we fear the trial? Far. You presume You are superior in numbers; we Lay hold upon the surest anchor, virtue; Gon. Two main reasons (Seconding those you have already heard) In her defence, and make her cause their quarrel: Nor can she, if that any spark remain To kindle a desire to be possess'd Of such a beauty, in our time, want swords To guard it safe from violence. Hort. I must speak, Or I shall burst: now to be silent were A kind of blasphemy: if such purity, Such innocence, an abstract of perfection, The soul of beauty, virtue, in a word, A temple of things sacred, should groan under [names Gon. Take my hand: Whate'er you are, I thank you. How are you Hort. Hortensio, a Milanese. Gon. I wish [call'd? I' the head of your troops. Uber. Tell me in gentler language, Your passionate speech induces me to think so, Do you love the princess? Hort. Were you mine enemy, Your foot upon my breast, sword at my throat, Even then I would profess it. The ascent To the height of honour is by arts or arms; And if such an unequall'd prize might fall On him that did deserve best in defence Of this rare princess, in the day of battle, I should lead you a way would make your greatness Sweat drops of blood to follow. Uber. Can your excellence Hear this without rebuke from one unknown? Matil. My lord, You take that liberty I never gave you. To his desert and quality, I can And will reward him; yet give you no cause Of jealousy or envy. Hort. Heavenly lady! Gon. No peace but on such poor and base conditions! We will not buy it at that rate: return So thunderstruck with the loud voice of war, As to acknowledge him our lord before His sword hath made us vassals: we long since Alon. And find repentance, When 'tis too late. Farewell. (Exit with FARNEZE. Gon. No, my Matilda, We must not part so. Beasts and birds of prey, To their last gasp, defend their brood; and Flo rence, Over thy father's breast shall march up to thee, That thou must put on for us and thyself, [talk, Fate cannot rob you of deserv'd applause, Asc. 'Tis a favour To you, by me sent from her: view it better; But why coy to receive it? Hort. I am unworthy Of such a blessing, I have done nothing yet That may deserve it; no commander's blood Of the adverse party hath yet died my sword Drawn out in her defence. I must not take it. This were a triumph for me when I had We know not what; I have some private reasons, But now not to be told. Hort. Shall I take him prisoner? Asc. By no means, sir; I will not save his life, To rob him of his honour when you give, Made Florence' duke my prisoner, and compell'd Remember what your entertainment was him To kneel for mercy at her feet. Asc. 'Twas sent, sir, [Exit HORTENSIO. My lord Alonzo, if you have received At old Octavio's house, one you call'd friend, [Exit. To think upon't: my wounded honour calls To put you in mind whose cause it is you fight for; I did not well; but it is now no time Asc. What have I done? I am doubtful To whom to wish the victory; for, still My resolution wavering, I so love The enemy that wrong'd me, that I cannot, Without repentance, wish success to him SCENE IV. - The same. A Forest. Alarum continued. Enter UBERTI, and FARNEZE wounded. Uber. 'Tis yet some comfort, Farn. All is lost the duke Uber. That noble stranger, Farn. 'Twas done nobly. Uber. In you, my bosom friend, I had call'd it But such a courtesy from a rival merits [noble: The highest attribute. Enter HORTENSIO and GONZAGA. Farn. Stand on your guard; We are pursued. Uber. Preserv'd! wonder on wonder. Farn. The duke in safety ! Gon. Pay your thanks, Farneze, That seeks to do me right.- [ALONZO falls.] - To this brave man, if I may call him so, Alas, he's fall'n! As you are gentle, hold, sir! or, if I want Power to persuade so far, I cónjure you By her loved name I am sent from. Hort. 'Tis a charm Too strong to be resisted he is yours. Yet, why you should make suit to save that life Which you so late desired should be cut off, For injuries received, begets my wonder. Asc. Alas! we foolish, spleenful boys would have The hot-pursuing enemy; these woods, [favour, Nor the dark veil of night, cannot conceal you, If you dwell long here. You may rise again; But I am fallen for ever. Farn. Rather born up To the supreme sphere of honour. Uber. I confess My life your gift. Gon. My liberty. Uber. You have snatch'd The wreath of conquest from the victor's head, Gon. From whence then proceeds Hort. In one suit I'll tell you, Which I beseech you grant :- I loved your daughter, Despair, my rough physician, prescribed me. Between her birth and mine, she would contemn me, The princess gave me comfort. Gon. In what measure? Hort. She did admit me for her knight and servant, And spurr'd me to do something in this battle, Gon. This you have perform'd To the height of admiration. That am your rival. Hort. You are charitable: But how short of my hopes, nay, the assurance My poor endeavours, and pray her not repent And make use of this sword: arms I abjure, And conversation of men; I'll seek out Some unfrequented cave, and die love's martyr. Gon. Follow him. Uber. 'Tis in vain; his nimble feet Have born him from my sight. Gon. I suffer for him. [Exit hastily. Farn. We share in it; but must not, sir, forget Your means of safety. A sovereign's power o'er thee, or friends with you, Farn. You still shall have my heart. [Exeunt. Enter LORENZO, ALONZO, PISANO, MARTINO, Captains, and Soldiers. Lor. The day is ours, though it cost dear; yet Enough to get a victory, if we lose ['tis not The true use of it. We have hitherto Held back your forward swords, and in our fear Of ambushes, deferr'd the wish'd reward Due to your bloody toil: but now give freedom, Nay, license to your fury and revenge; Now glut yourselves with prey; let not the night, Nor these thick woods, give sanctuary to The fear-struck hares, our enemies: fire these trees, And force the wretches to forsake their holes, And offer their scorch'd bodies to your swords, Or burn them as a sacrifice to your angers. Who brings Gonzaga's head, or takes him prisoner, (Which I incline to rather, that he may Be sensible of those tortures, which I vow To inflict upon him for denial of His daughter to our bed,) shall have a blank, With our hand and signet made authentical, In which he may write down himself, what wealth Or honours he desires. Alon. The great duke's will Shall be obey'd. Pisan. Put it in execution. SCENE VI. - The same. the same. [Exeunt. Another part of Enter FARNEZE disguised as a Florentine Soldier. Farn. Uberti, prince Uberti! O my friend, Dearer than life! I have lost thee. Cruel fortune, Unsatisfied with our sufferings! we no sooner Were parted from the duke, and e'en then ready To take a mutual farewell, when a troop Of the enemy's horse fell on us; we were forced To take the woods again, but in our flight, Their hot pursuit divided us: we had been happy If we had died together. To survive him, To me is worse than death; and therefore should not Embrace the means of my escape, though offer'd Uber. What shall I do? if I call loud, the foe That hath begirt the wood, will hear the sound. Shall I return by the same path? I cannot, The darkness of the night conceals it from me; Something I must resolve. Farn. Let friendship rouse Thy sleeping soul, Farneze: wilt thou suffer [Pulls off his Florentine uniform, and casts it before Pass through the enemy's guards: the time denies [Exit. Uber. Farneze, stay thy hasty steps! Farneze! Thy friend Uberti calls thee: 'tis in vain; He's gone to death an innocent, and makes life, The benefit he confers on me, my guilt. Thou art too covetous of another's safety, Too prodigal and careless of thine own. 'Tis a deceit in friendship to enjoin me To put this garment on, and live, that he May have alone the honour to die nobly. O cruel piety, in our equal danger To rob thyself of that thou giv'st thy friend! It must not be; I will restore his gift, Enter LORENZO, MARTINO, Captains, and Attendants. Lor. Ha! where learn'd you this discipline? my commanders Opposed 'gainst one another! what blind fury Pisan. Against all right, By force Alonzo strives to reap the harvest Alon. Sir, this is my prisoner, I would say Alon. What? Pisan. 'Tis false. Lor. Before my face! [me, Keep them asunder. And was this the cause Lies open to you. O unheard-of madness! |