The Maid's Tragedy by F. Beaumont and J. Fletcher - HTML preview

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Act III

 

Enter Cleon, Strato, Diphilus.

 

Cle.      Your sister is not up yet.

 

Diph.     Oh, Brides must take their mornings rest,

                 The night is troublesome.

 

Stra.    But not tedious.

 

Diph.     What odds, he has not my Sisters maiden-head to

                 night?

 

Stra.     No, it's odds against any Bridegroom living, he

                 ne're gets it while he lives.

 

Diph.     Y'are merry with my Sister, you'l please to allow

                 me the same freedom with your Mother.

 

Stra.     She's at your service.

 

Diph.     Then she's merry enough of her self, she needs

                 no tickling; knock at the door.

 

Stra.     We shall interrupt them.

 

Diph.     No matter, they have the year before them.

                 Good morrow Sister; spare your self to day, the night

                 will come again.

 

                                                       [Enter Amintor.

 

Amint.    Who's there, my Brother? I am no readier yet,

                 your Sister is but now up.

 

Diph.     You look as you had lost your eyes to night; I

                 think you ha' not slept.

 

Amint.    I faith I have not.

 

Diph.     You have done better then.

 

Amint.    We ventured for a Boy; when he is Twelve,

                 He shall command against the foes of Rhodes.

 

Stra.     You cannot, you want sleep.

                                                              [Aside.

 

Amint.    'Tis true; but she

                 As if she had drunk Lethe, or had made

                 Even with Heaven, did fetch so still a sleep,

                 So sweet and sound.

 

Diph.     What's that?

 

Amint.    Your Sister frets this morning, and does turn her

                 eyes upon me, as people on their headsman; she does

                 chafe, and kiss, and chafe again, and clap my cheeks;

                 she's in another world.

 

Diph.     Then I had lost; I was about to lay, you had not

                 got her Maiden-head to night.

 

Amint.    Ha! he does not mock me; y'ad lost indeed;

                 I do not use to bungle.

 

Cleo.     You do deserve her.

 

Amint.    I laid my lips to hers, and [t]hat wild breath

                 That was rude and rough to me, last night

 

                                                                   [Aside.

 

                 Was sweet as April; I'le be guilty too,

                 If these be the effects.

 

                                                 [Enter Melantius.

 

Mel.      Good day Amintor, for to me the name

                 Of Brother is too distant; we are friends,

                 And that is nearer.

 

Amint.    Dear Melantius!

                 Let me behold thee; is it possible?

 

Mel.      What sudden gaze is this?

 

Amint.    'Tis wonderous strange.

 

Mel.     Why does thine eye desire so strict a view

                 Of that it knows so well?

                 There's nothing here that is not thine.

 

Amint.   I wonder much Melantius,

                 To see those noble looks that make me think

                 How vertuous thou art; and on the sudden

                 'Tis strange to me, thou shouldst have worth and honour,

                 Or not be base, and false, and treacherous,

                 And every ill. But--

 

Mel.      Stay, stay my Friend,

                 I fear this sound will not become our loves; no more,

                 embrace  me.

 

Amint.     Oh mistake me not;

                 I know thee to be full of all those deeds

                 That we frail men call good: but by the course

                 Of nature thou shouldst be as quickly chang'd

                 As are the winds, dissembling as the Sea,

                 That now wears brows as smooth as Virgins be,

                 Tempting the Merchant to invade his face,

                 And in an hour calls his billows up,

                 And shoots 'em at the Sun, destroying all

                 He carries on him. O how near am I

 

                                                             [Aside.

 

                 To utter my sick thoughts!

 

Mel.       But why, my Friend, should I be so by Nature?

 

Amin.     I have wed thy Sister, who hath vertuous thoughts

                 Enough for one whole family, and it is strange

                 That you should feel no want.

 

Mel.       Believe me, this complement's too cunning for me.

 

Diph.     What should I be then by the course of nature,

                 They having both robb'd me of so much vertue?

 

Strat.     O call the Bride, my Lord Amintor, that we may

                 see her blush, and turn her eyes down; it is the

                 prettiest sport.

 

Amin.     Evadne!

 

Evad.     My Lord!

 

                                                               [Within.

 

Amint.    Come forth my Love,

                 Your Brothers do attend to wish you joy.

 

Evad.     I am not ready yet.

 

Amint.    Enough, enough.

 

Evad.    They'l mock me.

 

Amint.    Faith thou shalt come in.

 

                                                        [Enter Evadne.

 

Mel.      Good morrow Sister; he that understands

                 Whom you have wed, need not to wish you joy.

                 You have enough, take heed you be not proud.

 

Diph.     O Sister, what have you done!

 

Evad.    I done! why, what have I done?

 

Strat.    My Lord Amintor swears you are no Maid now.

 

Evad.     Push!

 

Strat.    I faith he does.

 

Evad.     I knew I should be mockt.

 

Diph.     With a truth.

 

Evad.     If 'twere to do again, in faith I would not marry.

 

Amint.    Not I by Heaven.

 

                                                                [Aside.

 

Diph.    Sister, Dula swears she heard you cry two rooms off.

 

Evad.     Fie how you talk!

 

Diph.     Let's see you walk.

 

Evad.     By my troth y'are spoil'd.

 

Mel.      Amintor!

 

Amint.    Ha!

 

Mel.      Thou art sad.

 

Amint.    Who I? I thank you for that, shall Diphilus,

                 thou and I sing a catch?

 

Mel.      How!

 

Amint.    Prethee let's.

 

Mel.      Nay, that's too much the other way.

 

Amint.    I am so lightned with my happiness: how dost

                 thou Love? kiss me.

 

Evad.     I cannot love you, you tell tales of me.

 

Amint.    Nothing but what becomes us: Gentlemen,

                 Would you had all such Wives, and all the world,

                 That I might be no wonder; y'are all sad;

                 What, do you envie me? I walk methinks

                 On water, and ne're sink, I am so light.

 

Mel.       'Tis well you are so.

 

Amint.     Well? how can I be other, when she looks thus?

                 Is there no musick there? let's dance.

 

Mel.       Why? this is strange, Amintor!

 

Amint.    I do not know my self;

                 Yet I could wish my joy were less.

 

Diph.      I'le marry too, if it will make one thus.

 

Evad.      Amintor, hark.                                   [Aside.

 

Amint.     What says my Love? I must obey.

 

Evad.      You do it scurvily, 'twill be perceiv'd.

 

Cle.       My Lord the King is here.

 

                                          [Enter King and Lysi.

 

Amint.     Where?

 

Stra.      And his Brother.

 

King.      Good morrow all.

                 Amintor, joy on, joy fall thick upon thee!

                 And Madam, you are alter'd since I saw you,

                 I must salute you; you are now anothers;

                 How lik't you your nights rest?

 

Evad.      Ill Sir.

 

Amint.     I! 'deed she took but little.

 

Lys.       You'l let her take more, and thank her too shortly.

 

King.      Amintor, wert thou truly honest

                 Till thou wert Married?

 

Amint.     Yes Sir.

 

King.      Tell me then, how shews the sport unto thee?

 

Amint.     Why well.

 

King.      What did you do?

 

Amint.     No more nor less than other couples use;

                 You know what 'tis; it has but a course name.

 

King.     But prethee, I should think by her black eye,

                 And her red cheek, she should be quick and stirring

                 In this same business, ha?

 

Amint.    I cannot tell, I ne're try'd other Sir, but I perceive

                 She is as quick as you delivered.

 

King.     Well, you'l trust me then Amintor,

                 To choose a Wife for you agen?

 

Amint.    No never Sir.

 

King.     Why? like you this so ill?

 

Amint.    So well I like her.

                 For this I bow my knee in thanks to you,

                 And unto Heaven will pay my grateful tribute

                 Hourly, and to hope we shall draw out

                 A long contented life together here,

                 And die both full of gray hairs in one day;

                 For which the thanks is yours; but if the powers

                 That rule us, please to call her first away,

                 Without pride spoke, this World holds not a Wife

                 Worthy to take her room.

 

King.      I do not like this; all forbear the room

                 But you Amintor and your Lady. I have some speech with

                 You, that may concern your after living well.

                 Amint. He will not tell me that he lies with her: if

                 he do,

                 Something Heavenly stay my heart, for I shall be apt

                 To thrust this arm of mine to acts unlawful.

 

King.      You will suffer me to talk with her Amintor,

                 And not have a jealous pang!

 

Amint.     Sir, I dare trust my Wife

                 With whom she dares to talk, and not be jealous.

 

King.     How do you like Amintor?

 

Evad.     As I did Sir.

 

King.     How's that!

 

Evad.     As one that to fulfil your will and pleasure,

                 I have given leave to call me Wife and Love.

 

King.     I see there is no lasting Faith in Sin;

                 They that break word with Heaven, will break again

                 With all the World, and so dost thou with me.

 

Evad.     How Sir?

 

King.     This subtile Womans ignorance

                 Will not excuse you; thou hast taken Oaths

                 So great, methought they did not well become

                 A Womans mouth, that thou wouldst ne're enjoy

                 A man but me.

 

Evad.      I never did swear so; you do me wrong.

 

King.      Day and night have heard it.

 

Evad.      I swore indeed that I would never love

                 A man of lower place; but if your fortune

                 Should throw you from this height, I bade you trust

                 I would forsake you, and would bend to him

                 That won your Throne; I love with my ambition,

                 Not with mine eyes; but if I ever yet

                 Toucht any other, Leprosie light here

                 Upon my face, which for your Royalty I would not stain.

 

King.      Why thou dissemblest, and it is in me to punish thee.

 

Evad.      Why, it is in me then not to love you, which will

                 More afflict your body, than your punishment can mine.

 

King.      But thou hast let Amintor lie with thee.

 

Evad.      I ha'not.

 

King.      Impudence! he saies himself so.

 

Evad.      He lyes.

 

King.      He does not.

 

Evad.     By this light he does, strangely and basely, and

                 I'le prove it so; I did not shun him for a night,

                 But told him I would never close with him.

 

King.    Speak lower, 'tis false.

 

Evad.     I'm no man to answer with a blow;

                 Or if I were, you are the King; but urge me not, 'tis

                 most true.

 

King.     Do not I know the uncontrouled thoughts

                 That youth brings with him, when his bloud is high

                 With expectation and desires of that

                 He long hath waited for? is not his spirit,

                 Though he be temperate, of a valiant strain,

                 As this our age hath known? what could he do,

                 If such a sudden speech had met his blood,

                 But ruine thee for ever? if he had not kill'd thee,

                 He could not bear it thus; he is as we,

                 Or any other wrong'd man.

 

Evad.      It is dissembling.

 

King.      Take him; farewel; henceforth I am thy foe;

                 And what disgraces I can blot thee, look for.

 

Evad.     Stay Sir; Amintor, you shall hear, Amintor.

 

Amint.    What my Love?

 

Evad.     Amintor, thou hast an ingenious look,

                 And shouldst be vertuous; it amazeth me,

                 That thou canst make such base malicious lyes.

 

Amint.    What my dear Wife?

 

Evad.     Dear Wife! I do despise thee;

                 Why, nothing can be baser, than to sow

                 Dissention amongst Lovers.

 

Amint.   Lovers! who?

 

Evad.    The King and me.

 

Amint.   O Heaven!

 

Evad.    Who should live long, and love without distaste,

                 Were it not for such pickthanks as thy self!

                 Did you lie with me? swear now, and be punisht in hell

                 For this.

 

Amint.   The faithless Sin I made

                 To fair Aspatia, is not yet reveng'd,

                 It follows me; I will not lose a word

                 To this wild Woman; but to you my King,

                 The anguish of my soul thrusts out this truth,

                 Y'are a Tyrant; and not so much to wrong

                 An honest man thus, as to take a pride

                 In talking with him of it.

 

Evad.     Now Sir, see how loud this fellow lyed.

 

Amint.   You that can know to wrong, should know how

                 Men must right themselves: what punishment is due

                 From me to him that shall abuse my bed!

                 It is not death; nor can that satisfie,

                 Unless I send your lives through all the Land,

                 To shew how nobly I have freed my self.

 

King.     Draw not thy Sword, thou knowest I cannot fear

                 A subjects hand; but thou shalt feel the weight of this

                 If thou dost rage.

 

Amint.   The weight of that?

                 If you have any worth, for Heavens sake think

                 I fear not Swords; for as you are meer man,

                 I dare as easily kill you for this deed,

                 As you dare think to do it; but there is

                 Divinity about you, that strikes dead

                 My risi