Cast. Sir, this your couch Seems to invite some small repose: BERINTHIA enters softly. Cast. Sweet sleep charm his sad senses; [She sings. Your flowing numbers here; and round about Ber. Nature doth wrestle with me, but revenge Thou art the first shall tell Antonio's ghost, [She How much I loved him. [She stabs him upon his couch. Seb. (waking.) O, stay thy hand, Berinthia! no: doors [cannot Thou hast done 't. I wish thee Heaven's forgiveness. I at many Doth in her name give me more wounds than these. [Dies. THE POLITICIAN: A TRAGEDY, BY JAMES SHIRLEY. MARPISA widow of COUNT ALTOMARUS is advanced to be Queen to the KING OF NORWAY, by the practices of her paramour GOTHARUS. She has by her first husband a young son HARALDUS; to secure whose succession to the crown by the aid of GOTHARUS (in prejudice of the king's son, the lawful heir,) she tells GOTHARUS that the child is his. He believes her, and tells HARALDUS; who taking to heart his mother's dishonour, and his own stain of bastardy, falls into a mortal sickness. QUEEN. HARALDUS. Queen. How is it with my child? Har. I know you love me: Yet I must tell you truth, I cannot live. Against my will; and having my desires, Queen. What is it hath made The thought of life unpleasant? which does court Har. O, take heed, mother. Heaven hath a spacious ear, and power to punish Queen. Thou art dejected. Have but a will, and live. Har. 'Tis in vain, mother. Queen. Sink with a fever into earth! Har. I have a wound within, You do not see, more killing than all fevers. Queen. A wound? where? who has murder'd thee? Har. Gotharus Queen. Ha! Furies persecute him! Har. O, pray for him : It is my duty, though he gave me death. He is my father. Queen. How, thy father? Har. He told me so, and with that breath destroy'd me. I felt it strike upon my spirits, mother: Would I had ne'er been born! Queen. Believe him not. Har. O, do not add another sin to what Is done already; death is charitable, To quit me from the scorn of all the world. Har. Ha! Queen. Before whose spirit (long since taken up my mother! Speak it again, and I may live: a stream Dwell in your blood for ever: speak it once, Queen. Were it my latest breath, Thou art his and mine. Har. Enough; my tears do flow you To give you thanks for it: I would could resolve me Queen. Alas, He thinks thou art. Har. What are those words? I am Undone again. Queen. Ha! Har. 'Tis too late To call them back. He thinks I am his son. And Heaven, if there be mercy to a crime Say I have been guilty of: we have been sinful, His active brain for thy advancement, by But thou hast no such stain; thy birth is innocent, A balsam to thy wound. Live, my Haraldus, And with what tears I'll wash away my sin. Queen. Thou art not. Har. But I am not found, while you are lost. No time Queen. Will nothing comfort thee? Har. Give me your blessing; and, within my heart, I'll pray you may have many. My soul flies Above this vain world: good mother, close mine eyes. Queen. Never died so much sweetness in his years1. THE BROTHERS: A COMEDY, BY JAMES SHIRLEY. DON RAMIRES leaves his son FERNANDO with a heavy curse, and a threat of disinheriting, if he do not renounce FELISARDA, the poor niece of DON CARLOS, whom he courts, when by his father's command he should address JACINTA the daughter and rich heiress of CARLOS, his younger brother FRANCISCO's Mistress. FERNANDO. FRANCISCO. Or the fierce winds, from their close caves let loose, Fran. Fie, noble brother, what can so deject Your masculine thoughts? is this done like Fernando, With all the miseries of man, and triumph With patience of a martyr? I observed Fer. Yes, Francisco: He hath left his curse upon me. Fran. How? Fer. His curse: dost comprehend what that word carries, Shot from a father's angry breath? unless I tear poor Felisarda from my heart, He hath pronounced me heir to all his curses. Does this fright thee, Francisco? Thou hast cause Must lose, and mourn; thou shalt have all; I am A thing that dare not give myself a name, 1 Mamillus in the Winter's Tale in this manner droops and dies from a conceit of his mother's dishonour. But flung into the world's necessities, DON RAMIRES is seized with a mortal sickness, but forbids FERNANDO to approach his chamber till he shall send for him, on pain of his dying curse. FERNANDO. Fer. This turn is fatal, and affrights me; but Heaven has more charity than to let him die Fer. As you would have men think your Phy. Fear it not, sir. art is meant [Exeunt Physician and Servant. Fer. But there is more than your thin skill required, With tough names, are but mockeries and noise, Enter Servant. Ser. O sir, I am sent for the confessor; The doctor fears him much; your brother says You must have patience, and not enter, sir; Your father is a-going, good old man, And, having made him heir, he's loath your presence Should interrupt his journey. [Exit. Fer. Francisco may be honest, yet methinks |