IMPERIALE. A tragedy.  Ovid. 2. Trist. ad Caes, August. Omne genus scripti gravitate Tragoedia vincit. 
LONDON, ¶ Printed by Thomas Harper. M.DC.XXXIX.   

The Argument.  
IMperiale and Spinola Noblemen of Genua having been ancient enemies, and lately reconciled by the mediation of justiniano's, a friend to both; Spinola endeavoured to marry his Son Francisco to Angelica daughter of Imperial; but finding his Son rejected, and Doria entertained, by that conceived affront, accompanied with other jealousies, suspects the old enmity not fully eradicated from the breast of Imperial, and moved with indignation, hireth a Brave to kill him in a crowd at a Festival: this being accidentally discovered by Sango the slave of Spinola, he reveals it to Molosso the slave of Imperial, as acceptable news to him, who had waited an opportunity to be revenged on his Patron for severe and unusual punishment, inflicted upon him. Molosso to ingratiate himself with his Lord, thereby to work a greater mischief, not only reveals the plot to him, but diverts the same upon Spinola's own Son, at which unexpected encounter Spinola through rage falls into a strange kind of Frenzy, but at length being an eyewitness of the misery which through the cruelty of the slaves befell Imperial, his wife Honoria, Angelica, and Doria, he recovers his senses and turns his fury into compassion.   
Plutarchus de gloria Atheniensium. 
{non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman}, &c.  
{non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman}.  
Tragedy flourished and was in high esteem, the hearing and sight whereof did wonderfully delight the men of those times.  
For if the accounts be made of the charge the Athenians were at in adorning their dramatic Poems, it will appear that the Bacchae, Phaenissae, Oedipi, Antigona, the cruelties of Medea and Electra, consumed more treasure, than their wars undertaken against Barbarians for liberty and Empire.   
Idem de vita x. Orat. 
{non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman}.  
Lycurgus ordained that statues of brass should be erected to the memory of the Poets, Aeschylus, Sophocles, and Euripides, and that their Tragedies should be carefully preserved, and often publicly read by the Notary of the City, when Stage-players were not admitted to act them.   
Delrius in praefatione ad Senecae Tragedias. 
Non Marcum Varronem, non dvos julios Caesares, non Augustum Octavium, non Scaurum, non Thraseam, quibus nihil 〈◊〉 vidit orbis Romanus, huic Scriptioni subsecivas horas 〈◊〉.   

Dramatis Personae.  

SAngo 2 slaves. Molosso  
Imperial, a Senator of Genua.  
Spinola, a Noble man of Genua, and a soldier.  
justiniano's a Noble man of Genua, and a scholar.  
Verdugo a Brave  
Doria a Prince 〈◊〉 Genua.  
Francisco, Spinola his son.  
judge.  
Doctor.  
Witnesses 2.  
Evagrio, kinsmen of Spinola. Fidele,  
Officers.  
Friends 2.  
Honoria, Imperial his wife.  
Angelica, her daughter.  
Nugella, the waiting woman.  
Cooke.  
Cater.  
Porter.  
Chorus.    


Actus Primus.  

Scena Prima.  Sango, Molosso. Sang. 
'tIs true Molosso, fortune hath prepared  
A full revenge for thee, without thy hazard,  
And ere the rising Sun shall yet decline  
Imperial thy proud Lord shall fall  
As low as hell; one unexpected blow  
Shall recompense those many he gave thee;  
When imitating foreign cruelty,  
He bound thee fast, and made thy feet an Anvil.  Molos. 
Sango, if thou contemplating our friendship,  
Begotten first by consanguinity,  
And since confirmed by our joint sufferings here,  
Hast undertaken some bold stratagem  
Against my Patron to revenge my wrongs,  
Thy great affection may but ruin me;  
Delay not then to make me understand  
Thy full intent: believe it will be vain,  
Our sword once drawn, to think to sheath again.  Sang. 
Then know, the plot is more securely laid,  
Than my weak means (although my will be strong)  
Could ever reach, without my certain death;  
And by strange chance I did discover it,  
Without the actor's knowledge; thou hast heard  
Of the old deadly feud between our Lords,  
Which wound although it were in show healed up,  
Is broken out afresh; 't was not well searched;  
For the last night, at setting of the Sun,  
A household business called me to the Garden,  
Where in the thicket, near the Arbour, lying  
by myself, I quickly fell asleep.  
Into which Arbour in the mean time came  
My Patron, with a Brave accompanied,  
A Fellow expert in that Mystery:  
At their first entrance to the place I waked,  
But durst not stir, for had I, death had seized me;  
There was I privy to their whole discourse,  
Which was in brief but this, that for the sum  
Of fifteen hundred crowns, thy patron's life  
Is sold, and must ere noon be snatched away.  Mol. 
Sure thou didst dream, thou wert not throughly awake,  
For though our Lords were lately reconciled,  
Mine keeps a careful watch, and never stirs  
Out of the City, where he knows he's safe.  Sang. 
He'll be deceived, the rareness of the plot  
Did please beyond the dear and longed for Act;  
here's the design, this being a solemn day  
annually observed by the State,  
In memory of a public benefit  
Received by the private care of one  
Of thy Lords Ancestors, will draw all sorts  
Of People to the Temple, where the 〈◊〉  
Clothed like a silly Peasant, is resolved  
To watch Imperial, and keep near him,  
And when the usual Ceremonies are done,  
In the confused Crowd his cunning hand  
Shall guide a poisoned dagger to his heart,  
And in an instant, letting fall his cloak,  
Which shall be large to hide his rustic habit,  
He, with the rest, will stand about the body  
And wring his hands at th'horror of the fact,  
And thus the Brave shall thy part bravely act,  
What? silent? not affected with a joy  
Should ravish thee? and swell thy veins with pleasure,  
Like to the Ostrich in the act of lust?  Mol. 
Light joys are easily vented; such as this  
Is entertained with an ecstasy,  
And by degrees expressed: but as the full  
Fruition of a thing we most delight in  
Is checked with daily fear of losing it,  
So find I now my rising heart kept down  
With doubt of such a wished happiness,  Sang. 
Hadst thou, as I beheld the Actors looks  
When he declared his resolution,  
To my attentive Patron, thou wouldst rest,  
Assured of the event, and swear he needed  
No other weapon to destroy a man;  
His eyes would have outstared a Basilisk,  
They were two Comets that are surely fatal.  Mol. 
May they portend more mischief to this House,  
Than those that blasted ours and our whole Country;  
But in this strong desire of a revenge  
Discretion must direct our passion;  
And therefore let it be thy chiefest care  
Neither in word, nor gesture, to disclose  
Thy fortunate discovery, till the end  
Shall crown the work, and banish all our fears;  
My task shallbe to make it profitable  
No less than pleasant, by his foreknown fall  
we'll raise ourselves to wealth and liberty,  
The great allurements of those bold attempts,  
Wherein the Vassal dares affront his Lord,  
And quite shake off the yoke of his subjection.  Sang. 
Our Magnificos think us phlegmatic rascals  
Created but for blows, and scorn, so far  
In love with servitude as scarce to wish  
Revenge or freedom.  Mol. 
They shall find at length  
Patience oppressed will into fury turn;  
Nature, in spite of fortune gave us minds  
That cannot like our bodies be enthralled;  
But soft, I doubt our early privacy  
May render us suspected; leave to me  
The manage of th'affair; only let thy  
Virtue be now the dumb man's secrecy.   

Actus Primus. Scena Secunda.  Spinola, justiniano's. Spin. 
THe hateful sound of Imperiale's name  
Would strike me deaf, my dear justinian,  
Were it not tempered by thy gentle tongue,  
That had the art to make m'embrace and trust  
A reconciled foe, who hath rejected  
With scorn my hopeful son, as if his birth,  
Fortune, and parts, had not deserved that flirt  
His gilded daughter; but I tax not thee,  
Whose friendship is a gem without a foil,  
And hardly can be valued, never matched:  
I know thy milder studies chiefly bent  
To weed out Rancour from the minds of men,  
Smoothing rough nature with morality,  
And this becomes Philosophers: but I  
That do profess the art of killing men,  
Encouraged by all States, imposed by some  
Must follow other precepts: he is sure  
Of many wrongs, that will but one endure.  Iust. 
Thy Character of me, loved Spinola,  
Thus far I may without vain glory own,  
Truly to love my friend, yet hate no man,  
And since mine own experience finds how well  
Thou dost the one, I would persuade the other;  
Nor would I now convert thee to a Stoic,  
To make thee think there are no injuries,  
Or if there be, that wise men cannot feel ''em,  
These, I confess, are not compatible  
With thy condition; on th'other side,  
I can encourage none, much less my friend  
To take a scandal, when there is none given,  
To call that injury, which is in truth  
A liberty that every man may challenge;  
Or if Imperial ought t' have waved the same,  
Yet since the will is free, thou couldst expect  
But Fatherly persuasion, to incline  
Th' affections of his daughter, all the rest  
Is ravishment, or tyranny at best.  Spin. 
I know not how the rigid schools define  
A father's power, in their begged principles,  
As if the freedom of the will extended  
To silly wenches, to restrain the power  
Of them that gave them first and second being;  
No, it was only his inveterate malice  
That closely lurked under a new feigned friendship  
That stuck on me and mine this contumely,  
Which ought to be resented far above  
An injury, by any generous spirit;  Iust. 
Let it be what thy fancy apprehends,  
Which scarce appears in the least circumstance,  
Yet generous spirits at poor contumelies,  
As seldom stoop as Eagles do to Flies.  Spin. 
What is there that should wound an active spirit,  
Like base contempt?  Iust. 
The guilt of one base act.  Spin. 
Should we not then be jealous of our fame?  Iust. 
If we within find cause of jealousy.  Spi. 
Reports may brand, although they be untrue.  Iust. 
Yes, those that take their honour upon trust.  Spi. 
Our honour by opinion must subsist,  Iust. 
Then every puff of wind will scatter it.  
How can we call that ours, which must depend  
On the rash will, and vainer voice of others?  
But herein thou most slight'st thyself to doubt  
Thou canst be undervalued by any,  
Much more contemned by him that dares not think  
Himself to be the worthier, but that thou  
Suggests it for him, in thy vain suspicion:  
They that believe themselves despised, confess  
An inward doubt of their own worthiness.  Spi. 
I am not for my part ambitious  
Of the dull fame of stupid patience,  
To be admired for wanting common sense,  
Like Cato, that could let one spit in's face,  
And when he should have wiped off the disgrace  
With his sharp Sword, he did it with a jest  
And his soft handkerchief: This was that spirit  
Thou lift'st above great Alexander's merit.  Iust. 
ay, and above the glory of Hercules,  
Or what bold Greece hath left in histories  
Of her great Captains, to their endless fame,  
They Monsters, Kingdoms, and their jousts o'ercame:  
Cato fought not with Beasts, nor did live when  
'twas thought that Heaven might be borne up by men,  
But in an age when (barbarism being fled)  
All industry and learning flourished;  
And in that time did bravely set upon  
That Monster, in many shapes, Ambition,  
With all the crimes of Rome, and when the State  
Was ready e'en to sink with its own weight  
He it supported with his only hand;  
And did (as much as one man could) withstand  
Rome's instant fate, till forced to let her go  
He became partner in her overthrow;  
And so one ruin did them both oppress;  
Whom to have severed had been wickedness;  
For was it fit that liberty should die  
And Cato live? that had been contumely,  
Not the purgation of a mouth that might  
As well have done the Sun or Moon despite:  
But I will leave thee to thy thoughts a while,  
For wholesome counsel like safe Physic is  
Unpleasant in the taste, and must have time  
To work upon the humour; thou that art master  
Of so much worth, wilt master in the end  
Those passions that with reason now contend.   

Actus Primus. Scena Tertia.  Spinola. Spi. 
I Must needs make a strong pretence to worth,  
That dare pretend, justinian, to thy love;  
But when I find how much I violate  
The sacred jaws of friendship, that refuse  
T'anatomize my very Soul to thee;  
I am compelled t''acknowledge mine own shame  
Or to suspect thy known fidelity:  
The plot, wherewith I labour, can admit  
No Council, but a necessary faith  
In the bold Actor, whose subsistence binds him  
To resolution, and to secrecy;  
All friendly trust is folly, every man  
H'as one, to whom he will commit as much  
As is to him committed: our designs  
When once they creep from our own private breasts  
Do in a moment through the City fly,  
Who tells his secret sells his liberty:  
But shall I suffer this black treachery  
To boil within my doubtful breast? mischief  
Though it be safe, can never be secure,  
Or shall I ease my thoughts, and give it vent?  
Yes; prick a full swollen bladder to relax it,  
Or bore a hole i'th' bottom of the ship  
To cool a Calenture? dull fool thy life  
Is with thy fame concerned: besides the base  
Rejection of thy Son (lodged deeply here)  
He wrought the Senate to confer the charge  
Of our late aid lent Savoy against France,  
On rash Marinò, so to blast thy merit,  
Be confident, he that durst often venture  
t''affront thee, meant to prosecute thy ruin;  
And 'tis no greater hazard to attempt  
Death, than disgrace, that makes his life contemptible:  
On then, be bold and secret, Spinola,  
So shalt thou reap the double benefit  
Of safety and revenge: all wickedness  
Is counted virtue, when 'tis prosperous;  
Be not by any reconcilement led  
To trust thy so, thouart safe when he is dead.   

Actus Primus. Scena Quarta.  Imperiale, Honoria, Angelica, Nugella attending. Impe. 
HOw comes it, dear, that the clear sky, thy looks,  
Is suddenly o'ercast? what misty vapour  
Hath raised those stormy clouds? can bright Aurora  
Rise cheerfully from shrivelled tython's bed?  
And thou so discontentedly from mine?  
But I'll not doubt the cause to spring from me,  
Rather from fear of young Prince Doria's safety,  
Whose great affairs perhaps have made him stretch  
His promise to the utmost, not to break it,  
Though he could not prevent our expectation,  
He'll not deceive't, but like th'approaching Sun,  
Will soon expel these mists, and cheer our hearts.  Hon. 
I am solicitous, I must confess  
Of his return, whom we have long expected,  
To whom we have designed our only daughter,  
And with her both our fortunes and our loves:  
But the true cause of all these perturbations  
Which you discover in my countenance,  
Is a strange dream (heaven make it but a dream)  
And I perhaps should but have thought it so,  
Had not my daughter, e'en this very night,  
And the same hour, as near as we can guess,  
With the like vision been disquieted:  
methought we harboured in our house a Wolf,  
Bred up so tame, that all did handle him,  
Which like a dog would fawn on them that beat him,  
Till on a time, accompanied with another  
Of his own race, he rushed into the chamber  
Where I together with my Daughter sat,  
There they resumed their native cruelty:  
The one assaulted her, the other me,  
And tearing first our jewels from our necks,  
They made us both at length their feral prey:  Ang. 
Oh, how the terror of that dreadful vision  
Affrights my Soul! I tremble when I think on't?  
methought the heartstrings of Prince Doria cracked  
At the dire news, it proved the overthrow  
Of our whole Family: we differ but in this,  
The Savage executioners to me  
Seemed to be Bears, creatures as bloody as wolves.  Imp. 
It is no wonder that your dreams concurred,  
Since there is that relation in your blood:  
I must believe, you had the day before  
Communicated some sad thoughts together,  
Which in the night your wakeful fantasies  
From a like temperature of brain reduced  
Into like forms, suggesting that for truth  
Which is at best but fond imagination;  
What can be vainer than a woman's dream?  
'tis less to be regarded then her tears,  
Which are prepared to flow at her command.  Hon. 
Cassandra's true predictions were despised.  Imp. 
And well they might, had Troy been provident.  Hon. 
Many at length deplore their unbelief.  Imp. 
But more lament their rash credulity.  Hon. 
Future events by dreams have been revealed.  Imp. 
So did old wizards doubtful things unfold  
By flights of birds, such witchcrafts now are seized,  
And we from those dark errors are released:  
To talk of visions is an indiscretion,  
Practised by Children, and distempered persons:  
Go then; prepare yourselves for solid joys,  
On this day the Republic yearly pays  
A retribution to our Family,  
And as I hear (the time being Carnival)  
Some mirth shall season our solemnity;  
If Doria come today, as we expect,  
To morrow nothing shall be heard of us  
But songs of Hymen and Thalassius.  Hon. 
Never could any wretches be more glad  
To be deceived.  Ang. 
My heart continues sad.   

Actus primus. Scena quinta.  Imperiale. 
O Wretched state of man, to whom the time:  
By nature made for ease, is found unquiet;  
Sleep, properly called rest, who can express  
How restless it becomes through various dreams?  
Which are so strongly formed by the fancy  
That though they be most false, and when we wake  
Should wholly vanish, yet even then they leave  
A deep Impression in the troubled mind;  
Nor doth this only happen to weak women,  
But unto men of special eminence,  
Working upon their hopes as well as fears,  
Who many times to their confusion  
Have by such drowsy errors been seduced;  
Hence did Amilcar venture to assault  
Strong Syracuse deluded by a dream;  
But though it be a folly beyond pardon  
To venture life or fortune in pursuit  
Of such a vanity, yet in all things  
Abundant wariness can never hurt:  
My slave may not unfitly be compared  
To a tame Wolf, or Bear, who may perchance  
Resent his late sharp castigation;  
Him will I send to my own Galley, where  
He shallbe chained from mischief, and to me  
Not prove unuseful, when the smallest bolt  
May easily be removed, who would omit it?  
Let others lose themselves in labyrinths  
Of hidden superstition, and believe  
The air to be replenished with spirits,  
Who by a natural and inherent virtue  
Foreseeing things to come, and taking pity  
Upon improvident man, reveal by visions  
The dangers that approach, to th'end he may  
By timely care prevent his misery;  
I'll not depend on such intelligence  
T'inform me whether Spinola hath buried▪  
Or only hid, his long continued malice,  
I'll fetch my preservation nearer; hence,  
That shall conserve this individual;  
No man can suffer ill but from himself,  
Fate only awes the slothful; wisdom barres  
The powerful operation of the stars.  Chorus of two. 1 
THose men that mischief do devise,  
Had need to borrow Argus eyes  
To look about; a poor slave may  
By chance lie hid, and then betray.  2 
Within the house they may suspect  
That walls and beds may them detect,  
And in the field they must provide,  
That not a bush a spy may hide.  1 
And albeit they shut the door,  
Having well searched the house before,  
Yet they may be betrayed; for proof,  
jove in a shower did pierce the roof.  2 
Though in the field no tree, nor bush,  
Nor bird be near, nor wind doth rush,  
Yet undiscerned a fairy drab  
Their whole discourse may hear and blab.  1 
Then since that neither house, nor field,  
To our black crumbs can safety yield,  
Let us be virtuous, and not fear  
What all the world can see or hear.  2 
Our dreams are often found to be  
Fruits of a wandering fantasy;  
Yet many times they likewise are  
Sure pledges of Celestial care.  1 
Some men believe too much, and some  
Conceive no truths by dreams can come;  
It is a knowledge given to few  
To find if they be false or true.  2 
Then as it is a rash misprision  
To count each idle dream a vision;  
So it's an error at the least  
To think all visions are quite ceased.    

Actus Secundus.  

Scena prima.  Francisco. 
CAn no advice of friends? nor mine own reason  
Hold me from strong pursuit of what I find  
Can never be obtained? am I so stupid  
After so many scorns not to desist?  
An arrow shot sooner may be recalled  
Then her affection; th'Apennine, the Alps  
Will eas'lier be removed then her Father:  
Feed not thyself, fond fool, with desperate hopes:  
But shall I, armed with powerful love, consult  
With timorous discretion? the weak Child  
Of feeble age? the towering Eagle may  
More easily be confined within high walls  
Then that winged boy, that hovered over Chaos  
Be tied to humane possibilities:  
What transformations did the Antique Poets  
Affirm to have been wrought on men and Gods  
By his sole deity? which jove himself  
His frequent sport had found; what guards, what spies,  
He hath deceived and forced; the fiery Bull,  
The wakeful dragon, and gazed Argus' witness.  
Though she that's truly named Angelica  
Should now abhor thy person; love can lend thee  
The shape of him she loves; were she averse  
From all mankind, if she like any thing  
She may at length be brought to dote on thee:  
But may I not be taxed of too much sloth?  
Neglecting active industry, t'expect  
To be assisted by such miracles?  
I yet have only trod the beaten path  
Of vowed service, friends good will, and jointure;  
The elder Brother's formal evidence:  
I am so far from practising the art  
Of spells and philters, I have quite omitted  
Corruption of her confidents and servants:  
I am too cheap a lover and too tame,  
And hither to have taught her to deny  
By easy asking; I must let her know  
What I dare do: my Father is incensed  
At my repulse, his old suppressed hate  
Renews itself; he'll rather condescend  
To match me with a fury, then with her:  
It will be wisdom to decline th'alliance  
Of him thy Father counts his enemy:  
It would be wretchedness to make thy love  
Depend upon th'affections of another:  
He never loved that can for any cause  
Suspend his love: set then before thine eyes  
Valiant Achilles, who acquired more honour  
By constancy, even to his enemy's Daughter,  
In spite of th'opposition of his friends,  
Then ere he did by Hector's overthrow,  
Redeem the time Francisco, though't be short,  
And let this one day satisfy the loss  
Of weeks and months; her father keeps a slave  
A cunning African, whose very soul  
For money and hope of liberty I'll buy:  
Him will I straight employ; love ne'er refuses  
The basest instruments, if they be useful,  
A drudge may find more corners in the house  
Than ere the master knew; and may discover  
A secret inlet to betray a City;  
There will I now begin, he shall advise  
Where I shall plant my golden batteries.   

Actus Secundus. Scena Secunda.  Imperiale. Molosso. Imp. 
I Am with wonder strucken, not with fear,  
At thy relation of this barbarous plot,  
Contrived against my life, after faith given,  
Of firm atonement: but the Leopard's spots  
Or stains of virgin honour may as soon  
Be wiped away, as hatred that hath seized  
A cankered breast; this machination  
Is so inhuman, that to lend it credit  
Is a degree to inhumanity.  Mol. 
To give slow faith to such a horrid plot  
Becomes a heart so full of piety;  
But in this black design many presumptions  
Unite themselves to fortify belief;  
Nor is it to be thought, the wretch durst feign it  
Giving so short a time to be disproved;  
The heavens forbid your virtuous diffidence  
Should lead you to the hazard: I must count  
This blessed discovery a large recompense,  
Of former ills fortune hath thrown on me:  
For I am bold to hope, it will by you  
Be graciously accepted, though I find  
Some late unhappy errors have enforced  
Your patience to inflict just punishment  
On him that is your slave, and might expect  
The restless misery of the painful oar,  
With all the wants that ever were sustained  
In a remorseless Galley; but your goodness  
(In spite of fate that meant all this) is pleased  
To give me shelter under your own roof,  
And to the emulation of my fellows  
To grant the favour of your household service;  
A bondage which I truly may prefer  
Above the common people's liberty:  
These are the benefits, that invite my soul  
To meditate your preservation,  
Which ere I cease to do, Tiber and Poe  
Shall quite abandon fruitful Italy,  
And wash th'Arabian sands; though I am rude,  
I must abhor churlish ingratitude.  Imp. 
Fortune and thy integrity have found  
A weighty occasion to confirm and fix thee  
With roots of adamant, in my good opinion:  
Nor doth it happen often to a servant  
T'enjoy the happy means t'account himself  
The Saviour of his master: Kings are borne  
More frequently, than such examples found:  
But if to this unvalued benefit  
Thy pregnant industry can add a second,  
The mischief to divert upon himself  
Thou having saved me now, shall crown me then.  Mol. 
Great sir, you owe the thanks of what's yet done  
To chance alone; I am ambitious  
Of something that might merit, if at least  
The diligence and industry of one  
Of my condition, may deserve that title.  Imp. 
It may, it may; great merit is in story  
Ascribed sometimes to bondmen; all our souls  
Are free and equal, thence our merits flow:  
Why should the person vilify the work,  
And not the work rather ennoble him?  
It is the benefit we look upon,  
And not the giver's mean condition.  Mol. 
I have a ripe design that shall both give  
Assurance of the truth of what I brought  
And pour the vengeance on your enemy;  
Nor can it ever be discovered  
To hurt your fame; it shall amaze the actor  
And shall be speedy too; things of long time  
Are ever doubtful, lost in expectation,  
Propounded usually for private ends,  
Gained by degrees; an acceptable deed  
Hath double welcome when 'tis done with speed.  Imp. 
Noble Molosso, such thy virtues make thee,  
Proceed with Courage in thy enterprise,  
Which I'll not press to know▪ till the event,  
But by implicit trust freely declare  
What confidence I mean to place in thee;  
And take from me this just encouragement  
To rest assured, thy service hath not met  
With an ungrateful master: I shall never  
Forgive my late credulity, that meant  
T'have added to his former punishment.   

Actus Secundus. Scena Tertia.  Molosso. Sango. Francisco. Mol. 
HE's now made sure, I must with speed find out  
Young Spinola, and speak with Sango too,  
behold'em both together, 'twill succeed;  San. 
See where Molosso comes, sir.  Fran. 
O 'tis he.  
How is't Moloss? thy face hath business in't  
I would thou wert at leisure.  Mol. 
My toiled body  
Will not admit a cheerful countenance;  
But I can throw of care if you command.  Fra. 
Wouldst thou embrace redemption?  Mol. 
Ask me whether  
I would not wish some shade if I were broiled  
Upon the Libyan Sands, where Cancer reigns:  
But Sir if I mistake not, you sustain  
A greater servitude, yet seek not freedom.  Fra. 
Thou wouldst persuade me to shake off Loves fetters.  Mol. 
Rather to change them into chains of gold,  
To wealth and ornament; it may be done  
Without your Chemical projection.  Fra. 
Thou shouldst not stand in need of that t'enrich thee,  
Could this b'effected.  Mol. 
Sir, I have no art,  
Nor leisure to discourse, but I have heard  
There is by fare an opportunity  
Allotted every man, to make him rich  
And happy too, provided he take hold,  
And I am confident that's offered you.  Fra. 
What? to enjoy divine Angelica?  
No treasure else can make me rich or happy.  Mol. 
When she is brought into your own possession,  
You can but blame yourself, if she depart.  Fra. 
I shall destroy myself if then she scape,  
But how? prithee convey thy joyful news  
Into me by a reverend secrecy,  
That I may be all ear, while thou art whispering.  They whisper. San. 
What plot should this be now? I long to know,  
Molosso doubts some accident may happen  
Upon his Master's death, and wisely seeks  
To gain a friend, under whose safe protection  
He may be sheltered from a sudden storm;  
I have an equal share in the success  
Of his designs; his preservation's mine,  
And therefore need not be inquisitive,  
Th' assured fate of his obdurate Lord  
May make that good he promiseth; the daughter,  
If once the Father were removed, perhaps  
Would entertain new thoughts, methinks she should  
Be sensible of Dorias neglects:  
Who can condemn this young man's hot desire?  
Were I as free, as noble as himself,  
I should most willingly become her slave,  
And I do hate my forc't condition  
For no one ill so much, as that it brings  
Despair of such transcendent happiness  Fra. 
I'm ravished with it, 'tis the sprightful child  
Of thine own brain, and will not brook delay.  Mol. 
That's true: I'll see that all things be prepared:  
If the least wheel be out of frame, the watch  
Is altogether useless.  Fra. 
Wind it up,  
That I may observe each minute of the time  
That is the crisis of my life or death:  
First take a taste of my ensuing bounty,  
It may relieve thee, should we be discovered:  
If by this plot my present hopes succeed,  
All future Lovers shall thy story read.   

Actus Secundus. Scena Quarta.  Sango. Molosso. San. 
I See thou hast a golden plot in hand,  
Thou must impart.  Mol. 
Half this is due to thee  
By our establisht law of equal fortunes.  San. 
I would I might share with Francisco too.  Mol. 
That riddle quickly will unfold itself:  
But Sango, I'm glad I met thee, I was forced  
For some important reasons to reveal  
This weighty secret to my Patron. San. how?  Mol. 
I was compelled to do't.  San. 
What? to disclose it?  
And unto him? is this your dumb man's virtue?  
Canst thou so soon forget thine own vile wrongs?  
Hath the dull air of Europe chilled thy blood?  
For thy sole cause I hardly could contain  
My present joy in the discovery,  
Though death stood gaping for me while I heard it,  
And wouldst thou cowardly betray thy fortune?  Mol. 
My obligation to my stars and thee,  
Their Mercury, can never be expressed;  
Which I have husbanded to my advantage.  
It is the ground from whence I'll take my rise,  
To leap, and fall like dreadful thunder on him;  
It is not vengeance, but soft piety  
To wish a foe's death, when he's fit to die,  
To let him live, and feel himself so wretched,  
That he shall seek and sue for absent death,  
Is a revenge becomes me, and I'll have it;  
Thou know'st my Patrons former trust was changed  
Into a sudden jealousy, which sprang  
From consciousness of his base injuries;  
This hath removed that doubt, and set me right  
In his lost good opinion, which I mean  
Still to confirm by my strict diligence,  
Till time and opportunity shall show  
How far this petty-mischief I'll outgo.  San. 
Now are thy thoughts full plumed, it pleases me  
To see thee mount, not flag in thy revenge:  
I must confess, I love a present mischief,  
But, if it may conduce to thy brave ends,  
To make a feigned retreat, and then return  
With greater violence; I must consent,  
And when thouart ready for thy great assault,  
But, this, and I shall join; in the mean time  
Let nothing be discovered to my Patron;  
If that be, death's the best I can expect.  Mol. 
Rest thou secure, and to express my thanks,  
It shall not be the least part of my plot,  
To give thee means to gain the full fruition  
Of her that Genua so admires and strives for.  San. 
Can there be hope of such a happiness?  Mol. 
ay, and a good assurance of success.  San. 
I shall embrac't with all the circumstance  
Of danger, that bold treason undergoes,  
Or what accompanies forbidden love  
In the most jealous climes: I should desire  
In the fruition of such bliss t'expire.  Mol. 
Stoutly resolved, come, let us lay our ground,  
We shall build sure, when our foundation's sound.   

Actus Secundus. Scena Quinta.  Verdugo. 
Under a homely habit many times,  
Virtue lies hid; this rustic weed conceals  
An Engine that can frustrate providence:  
When I attempt the death of any man,  
No town of Garrison, not his own house,  
Nor any place of sanctuary can save him:  
Nor doth my praise consist in this alone,  
That I command the life of whom I list;  
A desperate wretch may claim that privilege:  
He that is weary of his own, may be  
Lord of another's life; but such attempts  
Hatched only by a frenzy, seldom prosper:  
My actions are the fruits of a bold spirit,  
Tempered with judgement, done with secrecy:  
Hence is our brave profession found to be  
Of special use to awe the insolent,  
And secure those that seek to live in peace.  
What satisfaction is it to a man  
That receives wrong, to call his enemy forth,  
And then expose himself to equal hazard?  
Or in strict Commonwealths t'appeal to law,  
As if a feigned submission in set words  
Could cure the piercing sting of injury;  
No, 'tis assurance of a close revenge  
That plants civility, deters and keeps men  
From giving, and from suffering affronts;  
This benefit we bring to every man,  
Yes, and the public States of Italy,  
howe'er they censure our particular actions,  
Receive no small security from us;  
Treason would hardly find just punishment  
Within their narrow territories, if we  
Should not, like eager hounds, pursue the traitors,  
And make them know, that in another Country  
The justice of their own can overtake them;  
Let then the slothful tax us, that our ends  
Are not the public good, but private gain,  
Which we prefer above mankind; this is  
But what's objected to the soldier; he  
Will fight against his brother for reward,  
Men ought to follow their vocation;  
The fountain of our livelihood is profit,  
Without which, honour challenging the skill  
To nourish arts, cannot provide us clothes,  
Nor virtue, noised to be the greatest good,  
Procure us bread. Nor yet is our profession  
More cruel than the gravest; I have heard  
Of Lawyers, that are privileged to cut  
Their clients throats, with a perplexed Indenture,  
A parchment Saw. The learned Physician  
Following the long and beneficial way  
Of reverend Galen, by degrees will purge  
The humours of his Patient, till he leaves  
Nothing but bones for death, and hungry worms  
To gnaw upon; as for his pliant skin,  
That, while he lives, by pieces is pulled off,  
Till he be wholly flayed: the Usurer,  
is't not his use to bind men first in bonds,  
And bring 'em then to execution,  
Extending both their bodies and their lands  
Upon a rack; we are more pitiful,  
And by an unexpected way dispatch  
Quicker than lightning, or a cunning headsman,  
For all the ill of death is apprehension;  
How's Imperiale wronged? if when he hath  
But newly said his prayers, I release him  
From the ensuing miseries of age;  
And when that work's performed, my charity  
May do as much for Spinola himself,  
Provided I be offered like conditions:  
My hand of justice is not partial.  
But soft, this pleasing contemplation  
May make m' omit the time of action,  
Which now draws near; my plot is so contrived,  
That being pursued with resolution,  
It cannot want success; our best designs  
Are often crossed, when through a fond remorse  
We change our counsels: few have learned the skill  
To be or wholly good, or wholly ill.  Chorus of two. 1 
FOnd youth to hope, where no hope is,  
And to be brought to place thy trust  
On him, that makes deceit his bliss,  
And counts it folly to be just:  
Go wash an Aethiop white, and find  
Faith harboured in a slavish mind.  2 
Love wanting eyes, makes all men blind,  
That to his power submit their wills;  
No counsel can acceptance find,  
But such as their own lust fulfils.  
To be in love, and to be wise,  
Apollo to himself denies.  1 
When he that hath received harm,  
Requites it with pretended love,  
We must believe 'tis but a charm,  
Quick-eyed suspicion to remove.  
Some may do good for good, few will  
Be brought to render good for ill.  2 
Is it not strange to find a Trade?  
Will act what our Revenge devices?  
To see such formal bargains made  
To kill, or wound at several prizes?  
At which those public States connive  
That do by private faction thrive.  1 
But though some do commit these crimes,  
Yet let not us believe we may,  
Only cry out against the times,  
And be ourselves as bad as they:  
But let our virtuous deeds prevent  
Both theirs, and our own punishment.    

Actus Tertius.  

Scena Prima.  Angelica, Nugella. Ang. 
ALthough my father hath resolved all doubts▪  
My reason could object; yet still I feel  
A chilling vapour hover in my breast,  
Which many times breaks forth in sudden sighs,  
For which I can assign no other cause  
Than that the world cannot afford a joy  
unmixed with real or supposed sorrow;  
Hence is it that most Brides are found to weep,  
Yet know not why upon their wedding day.  Nug. 
Such follies are too common, I confess,  
But should I have the happiness to see  
Young Hymen in his yellow socks my guest,  
I'd entertain him with no other tears  
Than such as from pressed grapes in Autumn flow,  
Wherewith his drowsy head and withered garland  
I would bedew; till to his twinkling eyes  
Each taper should present a double light,  
While waggish Boys should with their wanton Songs:  
Prepare our thoughts to our ensuing pleasures.  Ang. 
Fie, fie, Nugolla, no lasciviousness  
Can ere become solemnities, that must  
Create us Matrons; there is cause to fear  
Their chastity, that unchaste songs can hear.  Nug. 
It is a shame to lend our ears to that  
We are allowed to do?  Ang. 
Yes many things  
Are lawful, and yet shameful to be done  
Or spoken publicly.  Nug. 
A woman may  
Be free in outward Gesture, yet preserve  
An inward chastity; and I know many  
Both rich and Noble Ladies so disposed.  Ang. 
'tis not the glittering canopy of greatness,  
But th'humble veil of modesty must guard  
A woman's fame; which being once thrown off  
Leaves her exposed to every bold assault.  Nug. 
But when she's found impregnable, 'twi'll stop  
Their vain attempts.  Ang. 
A fort cannot be thought  
Impregnable, that offers frequent parleys.  Nug. 
Yet that (as I have heard) is often done  
To gain advantage and delude the foe.  Ang. 
Can it beseem a Virgin or a Wife  
To play with all th' allurements of desire;  
And think her honour's safe, if she abstain  
From the bare act, the duller part of lust.  Nug. 
They do but imitate those Chariot drivers  
That you were wont to read of, whose praise was  
To come as near as might be, and not touch;  
Love hath ordained by an antique law  
Newly revived, that every place and room  
In Venus' palace, be allowed for sport,  
Except her cabinet, that, must not be  
Opened nor touched, at least not willingly.  Ang. 
Thou wilt be waggish still, But hark who knocks?  
This wench that never felt the fire of love  
Thinks like a wanton Child, it may be played with,  
But she will one day find it far more raging  
Than that which fierce Medea did convey  
Into Creusa's robe: how now? who is't?  Nug. 
A stranger, with a letter, which he says  
He must present to your own hand.  Ang. 
Admit him;  
If it be from my Doria, I fear  
Some unexpected accident, wherein  
His honour is concerned, retards his coming;  
But I must likewise arm myself for wiles:  
Such love as ours, cannot want envious plots.   

Actus Tertius. Scena Secunda.  Doria disguised. Angelica. Nugella. Dor. 
I Shall not be discovered by my voice,  
Italian Virgins are at distance wooed,  
And more by fame, then verbal courtship won:  
This speaks my errand, leaves no circumstance  
To be related by the messenger;  
See how her blood retires, to aid her heart,  
So looks bright Phoebe, when Thessalian charms  
Strike her with fear, or th'early Rose, whose beauty  
Nipped by a later frost, appears like snow:  
Now it returns, and settles in her cheeks,  
As if the news took no impression:  
Such orient beams when youthful day returns,  
By the bedewed Shepherd are beheld.  Ang. 
I may suppose you, sir, not ignorant  
Of what you bring; and may believe y'have heard  
Some thing of young Prince Doria and me.  Dor. 
Lady, I have; fame with her silver trumpet  
Hath blazed your constant loves.  Ang. 
And are you not  
Strangely amazed to see me read these lines  
Without a shower of tears?  Dor. 
If they relate  
Any disaster, you then imitate  
Those ancient Worthies, that had bravely learned  
To conquer passion at the first assault.  Nug. 
You think young women very impatient  
To have their joys deferred: my lady's wise  
To bear it thus, so long as he is safe.  Ang. 
he's dead, Nugella; the great. General  
Writes me, that he having the sole command  
Of an important place, forsook the same,  
And in his swift retreat, received a shot  
I'th' hinder part of's head.  Nug. 
O doleful accident!  Ang. 
Canst thou be so ingrateful to my Doria,  
To lend it such a serious belief  
As may deserve a tear?  Nug. 
I would I durst  
Suspect what comes so to our woe confirmed.  Ang. 
Were it confirmed by the unerring seal  
Of this wise State, it should not merit faith.  Nug. 
Alas, he was not to be thought immortal.  Ang. 
But was he not to be acknowledged valiant?  
That attribute his foes did not deny him:  
Had these contrived lines contained but this,  
Brave Doria's slain, a torrent, hence, had gushed,  
That like Alpheus, had through earth and sea  
Wandered unmixed, till in the gulf of death,  
It should have lost itself in seeking him.  
But when I find impossibilities  
Basely obtruded, my true love disdains  
To lend belief to any circumstance.  
Mars could as soon be frighted from his sphere,  
As he from any charge he undertook:  
'Tis a malicious scandal; and although  
My nature e'en abhors to use a stranger  
With any incivility, yet I'm forced  
To tax the bearer with this vild imposture.  Dor. 
By great Saint George, the Patron of this State,  
Doria himself is not more innocent.  Ang. 
That name is sacred, let me then conjure thee  
To answer truly but to this one question.  Dor. 
I shall.  Ang. 
Was there before you left the Army.  
Any report of this sad news you brought?  Dor 
I dare not say there was.  Ang. 
The Palace cracks  
When such a pillar falls, the General  
One of those many which my fortune wood,  
Envious that Doria gained both that and me:  
And knowing well, that valour always is  
The special object of a noble love,  
Attempted thus to shake my constancy:  
But if the fates should prove so cruel to me,  
To make me survive him; this is my vow,  
To stand for ever like sad Niobe,  
A weeping statue to his memory.  Dor. 
Never did such a virtuous courage reft  
In the calm harbour of a virgin's breast.   

Actus Tertius. Scena Tertia.  Spinola. 
AS the fly Fowler, having over night,  
Set cunningly his artificial net,  
Early returns, with an assured hope  
To find the foul ensnared, so are my thoughts  
Wholly possessed with present expectation  
Of the glad news of my successful plot;  
The managing whereof, I never can  
Within myself sufficiently applaud:  
I have not like rash Piso, foolishly  
Dispersed my trust, nor like the sons of Brutus,  
Disclosed my secret, where a servant might  
Discover, and betray; my wariness  
In a safe garden whispered my design,  
And but to one, that if it should miscarry,  
And he through fear or punishment confess,  
Yet I am sure to have but one accuser,  
Whose testimony my power and bold denial  
Would easily convince; but these mistrusts  
Are altogether needless: I may be  
As confident as those Sicilians,  
Who when their chief confederate was surprised,  
So much relied upon his resolution,  
As that not any one of them would fly,  
And so conceal their bold conspiracy.  
Behold my kinsmen bringing joyful news.   

Actus Tertius. Scena Quarta.  Evagrio. Fidele. Spinola. Eva. 
OH that I were snatched up into the sky!  
And there transformed into a cloud, that so  
I might dissolve into a shower of tears.  Fid. 
Can the day see such mischief, and be seen?  
And not make haste to shroud his guilty head  
Under the gloomy Canopy of night?  Spin. 
What earthquake? what prodigious spectacle  
Hath struck you both with horror?  Eva. 
Oh he's dead!  Spin. 
Why should that so amaze or you? or me?  
Since death must be the lot of every man.  Fid. 
Alas your son.  Spin. 
How does it concern him?  Eva. 
Great sir, your dear and only son is slain.  Spi. 
How's this?  Fid. 
He's murdered sacrilegiously,  
Even in the Temple-porch, he was disguised,  
And thought of all t'have been Imperial.  Spin. 
I am undone.  Fid. 
The desperate actor was  
Clad in a country habit, and it seems,  
Mistook the person; when he saw his face,  
He tore his viperous hair; the judge was present,  
Who gave command to bring him instantly,  
To receive speedy judgement,  Spin. 
Overreached?  
In my own plot? the sword of my revenge  
Turned on myself? and drowned in mine own bowels?  
I am betrayed, yet cannot suspect how;  
It could not be by any mortal subtlety,  
It was some devil lurking in the air;  
How shall I be revenged? O that he would  
Assume a humane body, that I might  
Encounter him! but I have found the way,  
I'll study the black art, turn Conjurer,  
And then impose a labour on them all,  
Worse than Ixion, or the Belides  
Are said to undergo.  Eva. 
We have done ill,  
To rush upon him with such violence;  
The sudden grief hath half distracted him;  
we'll strive to temper it with better hopes,  
Things may not be so bad as our affections  
Have made us fear; Francisco Spinola  
Was often named.  Fid. 
But neither of us both  
Can say we saw him dead.  Spin. 
Nay then I see  
Y'are villains hired, suborned to undermine me.  
First you confound me with your horrid news,  
And then confess ye may be both mistaken:  
But I am armed with patience, if Imperial  
Retaining still his late abjured malice,  
Hath by some hellish art contrived this mischief,  
I may in just resentment of my wrongs,  
Implore heaven's vengeance, on his perjured head,  
And this is all y'are like to screw from me.  Fid. 
Let not your troubled thoughts make you doubt us,  
Who for his life would sacrifice our own.  Spi. 
I will devise a stratagem, shall need  
No other hand but this, which I'll conceal  
From my own self, till th'instant time of action;  
For if I should disclose it in a place  
Where there are trees, or flowers, I am betrayed:  
I would not breathe it forth, unless it were  
After a dreadful thunder, that had purged  
The air, and frighted thence those subtle spies,  
That to our foes by night betray our plots.  Eva. 
You have a faithful friend, to whom you may  
Safely pour out the secrets of your heart,  
The wise justinian.  Spin. 
Oh that name is like  
A precious balm to cure the wounds of fortune!  Fid. 
Please you retire, I'll bring him presently.  Spi. 
No wild rebellion of my passions can  
Make me neglect the friendship of that man.   

Actus Tertius. Scena Quinta.  Molosso, Imperiale. Mol. 
NOw you may see, sir, you were not abused  
In our discovery, and I hope you find  
My undertakings and your trust made good;  Imp. 
The Sun at noon is not more clearly seen;  
But may it not breed a suspicion  
That he was clad like me?  Mol. 
Why sir you know  
That it is now the time of Carnival,  
When every man takes what disguise he pleases.  Imp. 
But I much wonder how he was persuaded  
To put himself so soon into my habit.  Mol. 
I brought him to a strong belief, that he  
By that device and my assistance should  
Convey away your daughter.  Imp. 
I intended  
The Father should be punished, not the son.  Mol. 
By this your vengeance is more exquisite;  
Make your account that with the son y' have thrust  
The father through, who having found himself  
o'erreached by you, or by his own just fare,  
In such a counterplot must needs at length  
Become his own dire executioner:  
In the mean time his life is worse than death.  Imp. 
True, true, death is the end of misery:  
To die 's not wretched, but to live wretchedly,  
Vengeance is mere compassion when we kill,  
I feel a joy beyond expression;  
There is no pleasure like to sweet revenge;  
But I desire things should be carried so  
That I be still reputed innocent.  Mol. 
That's my sole care, the Brave in th'act was taken,  
And by commandment of the present judge,  
Is brought already to receive his trial.  Imp. 
Thou shalt do well to hearken a loof off,  
I'll take no notice but in general,  
And will proceed in our intended mirth.  Mol. 
By all means sir.  Imp. 
We must at this time shun  
Unusual privacy; keep thou thy distance,  
But know, that both my life and fortunes are  
Most willingly committed to thy care.   

Actus Tertius. Scena sexta.  judge, Doctòr, Witnesses, Verdugo, Officers. Iud. 
SInce it hath been the custom of this state  
To place a stranger on this high Tribunal  
Ordaining a professor of the Laws,  
As his assistant (being the place you hold)  
It is our duty to discharge that trust  
With all integrity, and not to look  
Upon men's persons, but to weigh their crimes  
In equal balance, to which purpose now  
Although a strange and horrid sacrilege  
Has called us hither in unusual haste;  
Yet it must be our chief care to proceed  
With due deliberation; otherwise  
Though just our sentence be, we are unjust.  Doc. 
I have for some years had the happiness  
To be a witness of your constant session,  
In all which time I have not heard a sentence  
Pronounced by you that envy could pervert.  Iud. 
We must not think we deserve praise for that  
Which to neglect would merit punishment.  Doc. 
But yet there are degrees of good and ill,  
Wherein the actor takes a liberty.  Iud. 
Yet where the law prescribes a certain rule  
A just judge cannot challenge liberty:  
But let us now pursue the work in hand,  
Where is the prisoner?  Off. 
Here.  Doc. 
Let him draw near.  Iud. 
His name?  Off. 
He calls himself Virdugo, sir.  Iud. 
Then know, Virdugo, though thy heinous fact  
Be evident, yet the justice of this state  
Grants thee free leave to answer for thyself.  Ver.. 
I thank the state for their set compliment.  Iud. 
Bring forth the witnesses that he may see them.  Off. 
They are both here an't please your excellence.  Iud. 
Have they been sworn?  Doc. 
Yes both sir, before me.  Iud. 
Then, by the oath you took, declare the truth  
Of what you know concerning this delinquent,  
Begin you first.  Wit. 1. 
About some three hours since  
Being in the Domo, I espied this man  
At his first entrance, and although I never  
To my remembrance saw his face before,  
Yet instantly I found a strange mislike  
Of his aspect, which did increase the more,  
Because I saw him often fix his eyes  
On him he slew, whom I conceived to be  
Signior Imperial, I revealed my thoughts  
To this young man who then stood next me, who  
Concurring with me, did resolve as I  
To watch him narrowly; we both agreed  
To keep on either side of him, at length  
In midst of all the crowd, raising his arm  
To fetch his blow, he hit me with his elbow,  
At which I suddenly laid hold on him,  
Supposing he had snatched at some man's purse,  
But then I saw drop from his hand the sheath  
Of that dire weapon, he had newly buried  
In the warm bowels of that Gentleman.  Wit. 2. 
Most part of this I aver, I stood so near him  
That I perceived the motion of his arm,  
And looking down, spied blood upon his hand.  Ver. 
The Canker take your Physiognomy  
That made you try conclusions upon me.  Iud. 
There cannot be more clear and pregnant proof,  
What have you to allege in your defence?  Doc. 
He hath confessed the fact.  Iud. 
Hath he confessed  
Who set him on? whether he meant to kill  
Signior Imperial, or young Spinola?  Ver. 
The one had done me wrong, but destiny  
Made th'other take a Carnival disguise  
Somewhat too soon.  Iud. 
Such recreations  
Though in themselves they be in different,  
Yet in a sacred Temple theyare profane,  
And draw down vengeance.  Ver. 
Had there been but hope  
To have enervated their testimony:  
The rack, nor the strappado, no nor yet  
The subtler torment both of fire and water  
Should have enforced me to the least confession:  
But 'tis my fate, and therefore let me hear  
My passing bell, my doom quickly pronounced;  
For 't were ridiculous to expect favour,  
Since your integrity (as you confessed)  
May not show any, where the law condemns.  Doc. 
Dar'st thou deride the judge?  Iud. 
Let him alone,  
He hath no sense of his own misery,  
His boldness moves not me, I shall proceed  
With the unchanged countenance of Law,  
And with a voice not furious, but severe;  
When I condemn a guilty man, 'tis done,  
As if I struck a Serpent, not with passion.  Doc. 
His wicked acts have hardened him, he came  
No novice to this cruel enterprise.  
In Venice he climbing a Ladder, shot  
Through the glass window a Clarissimo  
Sitting at supper, flew a Count of Naples  
In his own garden, having first observed  
A place where he might scale the wall t' escape;  
And that his wants may not obtrude the guilt  
Upon his fortune, he but lately ravished  
A young and Noble Virgin in Sienna,  
The only daughter of Petruccio.  Ver. 
Can that be thought to be a great offence?  Doc. 
The harmless man thinks it no great offence,  
With hot and beastly lust to vitiate  
A damsel, at the most but ten years old.  Ver. 
Believe it, I have found 'em good at eight;  
Why there are many like Quartella, sir,  
Remember not that they were ever maids.  Iud. 
He takes delight not only in the act,  
But in the infamy of wickedness;  
But I will rid the world of such a monster;  
And therefore now, Verdugo, I pronounce,  
Because thouhast heaped up crimes, and drunk in vice,  
Which is dispersed into every limb,  
Thy body shall be laid upon a wheel,  
And limb by limb be broken, till thou diest;  
Nor shalt thou then find any other grave,  
Than the black maws of Vultures, and remain  
In the mean time a spectacle to men:  
This sentence justice hath declared by me.  Ver. 
Sir?  Iud. 
Not to be revoked, take him away,  
And early in the morning see't be done.  Ver. 
I'll bear it manfully, although I feel  
Ixion▪ like the torment of the wheel,  Iud. 
Such malefactors in a State are like  
To putrified members in man's body,  
Which like a skilful Surgeon, law finds best  
To cut off quite, lest they infect the rest.  Chorus of two. 1 
LOve built on virtue, cannot be  
Led by a rash credulity,  
To entertain reports that tend  
To the dishonour of a friend.  
True love is confident, a doubt  
That slakes loves fire will put out.  2 
As they whose tongues are used to err  
Are not believed, when they aver  
That which is true, so when we know  
A story false in part, we grow  
jealous of all; if truth once touch  
On falsehood, it is rendered such.  1 
When men in their revengeful hate  
Do study others ruins, Fate  
Acts justice' part, to let them see  
They plotted their own misery.  
'Tis just that they themselves should find,  
What they to others have designed.  2 
But how are these amazed, when they  
Being about to seize their prey,  
Find themselves caught, yet do not know  
From whence they did receive the blow:  
Like him that hid his gold in hope  
To keep it safe, but found a rope.  1 
Though they could blind and bribe the law,  
And keep all witnesses in awe  
By their great power, though they could make  
By cunning the whole Stake mistake:  
Yet can they be so void of sense,  
To think to cozen Providence?  2 
If mischief-workers would but bend  
Their guilty thoughts, to weigh the end  
Of their ill deeds, they would confess,  
No safety found in wickedness.  
How can those crimes that heaven doth see  
And so abhor, unpunished be?    

Actus Quartus.  

Scena Prima.  Evagrio; justiniane. Eva. 
Believe it sir, h'as all the signs of frenzy,  
His inflamed blood boil in his swelling veins,  
His eyes appear like fire, his colour changes,  
He grates his teeth, and falters in his speech;  
Sometimes he folds his arms, and deeply sighs,  
Then strikes his angry foot against the ground.  Iust. 
Doth he continue in such violence  
As at the first?  Eva. 
Yes sir, by fits; sometimes  
A stupid silence seizeth him, and then  
He breaks again into his former rage.  Iust. 
These are, I must confess, the noted symptoms  
Of a hurt fancy; he's of a high spirit  
Apt to resent a wrong (if it could be)  
From fate itself; but, where he takes, a friend,  
On whom a man may build, as on a rock.  Eva. 
True sir, his rising passions at your name,  
Like a tumultuous multitude, at sight  
Of a grave judge, were for the time appeased;  
See where he comes, I pray observe, he vents  
His passions often in poetic rage.   

Actus Quartus. Scena secunda.  Spinola, justiniano's, Evagrio. Spi. 
Ye Furies, active ministers of hell,  
That have your heads environed with Snakes,  
And in your cruel hands be are fiery scourges,  
Lend me your bloody torches to find out,  
And punish th'author of my dear son murder,  
Assist Megaera with a new revenge,  
Such as even thou wouldst fear to execute:  
Let a vast sea of blood o'erflow his house,  
And never ebb till I shall pity him;  
Ease now th'infernal ghosts, remove the stone  
From th' Attic thief, and lay it on his shoulders,  
Let the swift stream deceive his endless thirst,  
And let his hands wind the unquiet wheel,  
That hourly tortures the Thessalian King:  
Let Vultures tire upon his growing Liver,  
But let'em ne'er be tired; and since there is  
One of the fifty Danaan sisters wanting,  
Let them admit that man into her room,  
And with their Pitchers only load his arms;  
How am I sure 'tis he? or if it be?  
It is the law of Retribution,  
And is but just, my conscience tells me so:  
Hence childish conscience, shall I live his scorn?  
And the whole Cities Pasquill? I abhor it,  
Were he protected by the thunderer,  
I'd snatch him from his bosom, and in spite  
Of his revengeful thunder, throw him quick  
Into the throat of the infernal dog;  
Or if that monster be not yet released,  
Since great Alcides dragged him in a chain,  
Through th' amazed towns of Greece, Enceladus  
That with his earth-bred flames affrighteth heaven,  
Rather than he shall scape, shall fire the world:  
But I delay, and wear away the time  
With empty words, why do I call for Furies?  
That bear in mine own breast a greater fury  
Than Acheron and night did ever hatch;  
I'll dart myself like winged lightning on him;  
Have I no friend?  Iust. 
Yes, one that dares assist you  
In a more valiant act, to crush that Fury,  
And to restore brave Spinola to himself.  Spin. 
O faithful soul, my dear Francisco's murdered.  Iust. 
A heavy fate, yet such as should be borne  
Without so strange a tumult, what you give  
T'unbridled rage, you take from your revenge.  Spi. 
Wilt thou allow me to take vengeance, speak,  
But speak justinian with thy wonted faith.  Iust. 
Yes, such as law and justice shall allow.  Spi. 
I have no skill in Law, and as for justice,  
Your learned Stoics make it but a fool,  
A very animal.  Iust. 
'Tis now not seasonable  
To tell you whether justice, Fortitude,  
And th'other virtues may be called creatures;  
But I must tell you, that no creature can  
Be happy, wanting them; whereof that man  
Deprives himself, that subjugates his reason,  
On which they all depend, to brutish passion;  
Could you but be persuaded to reflect  
Upon yourself, to see as in a glass,  
What a deformity this vice hath brought  
Upon your soul, although you hated me,  
You would embrace my counsel.  Spi. 
Dear justinian,  
Fortune hath nothing left that's worth my hope,  
But thy affection; at thy sole command,  
I would attempt to swim the midland sea,  
When Aeolus and Neptune are at wars,  
Expose myself to the fierce dragon's jaws,  
Enraged by the theft of Hercules;  
At thy command I'll live; hark, hark, what's that?  
It is the voice of my dead son, that calls  
For vengeance; see, see where he stands and points  
At his still-bleeding wound; he bids me think  
What he had done ere now, had we changed fates;  
Did you not see him?  Iust. 
No, nor you yourself,  
'Twas nothing but a strong impression made  
In your disturbed imagination.  Spi. 
Could both mine eyes and ears be so deceived.  Iust. 
That happens often to perplexed minds.  Spi. 
Alas, what shall I do?  Iust. 
Let me persuade you  
But to retire, perhaps some mild repose  
May softly steal upon your troubled spirits,  
To give you ease.  Spi. 
If you will have it so,  
My passions in my breast shall silence keep,  
I'll be as tame, as (what you wish me) sleep.  Iust. 
Wait on him in, I'll follow presently.   

Actus Quartus. Scena Tertia.  justiniano's. 
THe unexpected death of his dear son,  
So wounds his soul, that his distracted fancy  
Suggests belief, he saw and heard him speak,  
But that cannot seem strange, if we consider  
How far imagination doth usurp  
Upon the power of Reason, though it be  
A faculty coincident to Bruits,  
Receiving objects from the common sense;  
But these his perturbations I suspect  
To flow from mixed affections, grief, and anger,  
The last of which, sinks deepest in the hearts  
Of most of us Italians, and I doubt  
That he thereby having involved himself  
In that, which is our nation's crime, Revenge;  
Hath been by th'other faction undermined:  
If this be, his disease is curable,  
Yet so, as every virtuous man must think  
The remedy as bad as the disease,  
Unless strict justice do become th'avenger,  
Or that their own sad fates appease his rage;  
O how it wounds my heart to see my friend  
And one that truly meriteth that name  
But for that vice, whereof not to be guilty  
Is made a vice here, by the Tyrant custom)  
Plunged in distress, that cannot receive counsel:  
But could he once with safety be restored  
To his own native ingenuity,  
He would detest such crimes; his candid soul  
Appears in this, that in the midst of fury,  
The sight or name of him he loved before  
Can Orpheus-like calm his enraged spirit:  
I therefore am obliged by sacred friendship  
Even to devote myself to all just means  
Of his recovery, and I will perform it,  
To cure Orestes (If the Heavens so please)  
There shall not want a faithful Pylades.   

Actus Quartus. Scena Quarta.  Imperiale, Honoria, Angelica, Servants, Friends, Doria, Maskers. Imp. 
ARe all things ready.  Ser. 
Yes sir.  Imp. 
Noble friends,  
Your presence gives addition to the honour  
Which some young Gentlemen are pleased to do me  
In the free presentation of their mirth  
Most seasonable in time of Carnival,  
And fit to celebrate this joyful feast  
Which we may challenge as our holiday.  Fri. 1 
The honour of this day chiefly belongs  
To you and to your family, but yet  
The benefit redounds to the whole State,  
Which every year is thankfully acknowledged.  Fri. 2 
The State, by such acknowledgement invites  
All generous spirits beyond common duty  
To venture life and fortune for her safety.  Imp. 
This common wealth that makes them truly happy  
That share the blessings of her government  
Disdains not, like a tyranny, to owe  
A benefit to subjects; nor rewards  
With banishment, in stead of bays, their merit:  
But hark, music proclaims the maskers coming,  
Be pleased to take your places, there are seats.  Fri. 1. 
I must crave leave to place your daughter, sir,  
She that is once betrothed is a Bride.  Imp. 
'Twere incivility in her, or us,  
If you request it, not to be uncivil,  
Sit down Angelica.  Hon. 
Sit down, sit down,  
Our friends desires are in our house, commands.  
A boy, clad like a nuptial Genius sings this song.  
COme Hymen, light thy full branched Pine,  
And let a rosy wreath intwine  
Thy reeking brow, let thy brave sire  
With liquid virtue thee inspire,  
While waggish boys in witty rhymes,  
Taxing the follies of the times,  
Spare not their masters, who are now  
Content this freedom to allow;  
Thus the chaste girdle of the Bride  
Must be by pleasant rites untied,  
But let dark silence bring to bed  
Such as want Hymen when they wed.  
The song ended, Hymen and his Fescennine youths appear clad in antique forms, dancing a wanton dance, at the end of which, Prince Doria representing Thalassius, enters with other young gentlemen his friends, attired like Romans, with their swords drawn: at sight whereof Hymen and his company run away confusedly: than they put up their swords, and dance a warlike dance, at the end whereof Doria suddenly embraceth Angelica, the Masquers all crying out  Mas. 
For Thalassius, for Thalassius.  Imp. 
Though custom challengeth a liberty  
To take our wives and daughters forth to tread  
A measure without scandal, yet t'embrace,  
And whisper too, requires a better warrant  
Than carnival permission, it implies  
Domestic privilege, or an affronted.  Mas. 
For Thalassius, for Thalassius.  Imp. 
That voice was frequent at a public rape,  
But sacred hospitality forbids  
All jealousy of any ill intent.  Dor. 
Not, as the Romans when they had betrayed  
The Sabine Virgins, do my glad friends make  
These acclamations of Thalassius,  
But rather as a more auspicious name  
Then that of drowsy and lascivious Hymen;  
Behold the late Ambassador himself  
Thus contradicts his own feigned embassy.  Aug. 
My Doria!  Hon. 
O perfect happiness!  Fri. 2. 
See how Prince Doria hath surprised us all,  
Transformed into a nuptial Deity.  Imp. 
My doubt is in the better sense resolved:  
You may perceive y'are welcome by the joy  
Expressed both by my daughter, and my wife,  
In no dry compliment, but in a moist  
And silent Oratory.  Dor. 
Which works more  
On my affections, than a golden tongue;  
But tell me my divine Angelica,  
How couldst thou at the tidings of my death,  
Put on a valiant incredulity?  
And when thou find'st me safe burst out in tears.  Ang. 
To lend belief to any ill report  
Of a known friend, although averred with boldness,  
In common friendship were unpardonable,  
Much more in such a love as mine, which finding  
In a main part a manifest untruth  
Was for your honour bound to slight the rest:  
And though there be a contrariety  
In the true causes of our joy and grief,  
Yet both are often times expressed with tears,  Dor. 
I could not entertain nor then nor now,  
The least suspicion of thy constancy,  
But truest love delights to please itself  
With such disguises, and to find by trials  
Our own assurance many ways confirmed:  
Nor had I ventured to disturb thy thoughts,  
Which thy discerning judgement did prevent,  
But that I had a present remedy.  Ang. 
I might have safely tasted what the Mede,  
Or the fierce Parthian dips his arrows in,  
So long as there was such an antidote.  Dor. 
Were I left helpless by machaon's art,  
Thy presence hath a virtue would restore me,  
Pandora on whom each Deity bestowed  
A several gift, was not endowed like thee.  Imp. 
So soon at strife? if you will needs contend  
Who will love best, I'll put you both together.  Dor. 
He whose ambition made him weep and sweat  
Within the narrow limits of one world,  
Did never thirst so much for fame and glory,  
As I for that encounter, in which combat,  
Whether I vanquish, or am vanquished,  
I shall not envy Pompey or Caesar's triumphs:  
In the mean time I'll crave an hour or two  
For preparation of some necessaries,  
Whereof my absence makes me destitute.  Imp. 
Troth my occasions have the like request,  
And therefore if this noble company  
Will honour us tomorrow with their presence,  
We shall endeavour to requite their loves.  1 Fri. 
Most willingly.  2 Fri. 
And at your nuptial feast,  
we'll wish that every grace may be your guest.  Dor. 
I'll soon return, my heart with thee shall stay  
As a sure pawn.  Ang. 
You carry mine away.  Imp. 
You have some business too must be dispatched,  
Go, lose no time; Molosso come thou hither,  
I leave thee in my absence to take care,  
That supper be prepared, and tell the Steward  
That great revenue, parsimony, now  
Must be by us neglected: thriving men  
In charges that come seldom, are profuse.   

Actus Quartus. Scena Sexta.  Molosso. 
I Shall sir, yes, by that time you return,  
You shall confess you have a skilful Cater:  
Why should proud greatness undervalue us,  
And our condition? since all men are slaves;  
If we survey the greatest monarchies,  
What art their Courtiers else? with all the suits  
They either beg or wear? the rich Banker  
Enthralls his debtor, and his money him:  
This Captain is a captive to that wench;  
This Magistrate to bribes; that Lord to pride,  
This Statesman to ambition; all to fear:  
From whence we only that have nought to lose,  
Are free, and that shall instantly appear;  
I'll send the servants forth, that Sango and I  
May act our part with more security.  
See how the fates themselves have helped to bring  
The Beast into my toil, and made both him  
And his whole house the subject of my vengeance,  
My joy is such, I cannot temper it:  
As when the bloodhound in a leash being led,  
Noseth the ground, and while the prey's far off,  
Spares both his mouth and feet, but drawing near,  
Will open wide, and drag away his leader,  
So are my thoughts transported, I'll away,  
My fury calls for blood, and I obey.  Chorus of two. 1 
Undoubted friendship having made  
A strong impression in the mind,  
Though wild distempers do invade  
Our reason can their fury bind.  
Love in distracted thoughts may bear  
As great a sway as servile fear.  2 
He whose strong passions are his foes,  
Is happy in a faithful friend,  
That will assist him to compose  
Those strifes that to his ruin tend.  
A true friend wishes not a cause,  
But when there's need, he ne'er withdraws.  1 
A Lover with no ill intent,  
Will Proteus-like, new forms devise,  
He feigns to be on errands sent,  
And then himself he will disguise  
Like to a god, Love loves to stray,  
And seldom keeps the beaten way.  2 
But now the fatal time draws near,  
Wherein the error and th' offence  
Of Imperial will appear,  
To trust the slave he did incense,  
And to encourage him to act  
What he once thought a heinous fact.  1 
But may there not be some excuse?  
At least to mitigate his fault?  
That he could not expect a truce,  
And that he found his own life sought:  
It hath been counted justice still,  
Rather than to be killed, to kill.  2 
there's no excuse can purge the guilt  
That murder brings; we must not take  
Our own revenge, blood by us spilled,  
Will our whole offspring guilty make:  
Then let's not blame heaven's justice, when  
Great plagues do light on virtuous men.    

Actus Quintus.  

Scena Prima.  Fidele, Evagrio. Fid. 
we see there is small hope that gentle sleep  
Can find admittance to his troubled thoughts,  
While rage distracts them; he's no sooner laid  
To rest upon his couch, but up he starts.  Eva. 
The wise justinian means this night to bring  
Some curious music, that may rock his senses  
Into a slumber by sweet harmony,  
Working on his affections, we are all  
Eternally obliged to that good man;  
Who though he be with hearty sorrow moved  
To see his friend in such necessity,  
e'en of his help, yet is resolved t' employ  
His constant care, nor will he ever think  
His debt of friendship paid by my labour.  Fid. 
What will become of us if he miscarry?  
We are his kinsmen, and have no subsistence  
But by his only bounty; I received  
A deadly wound in the deplored death  
Of his dear son, who oft was pleased to bid me  
Throw all my care on him, and now I find  
My hopeful venture sunk in that brave ship.  Eva. 
To lose out friends and fortunes I confess,  
Is that which needs must shake the firmest minds,  
But when there is no hope for us t' increase  
Our own affliction, and to lose our spirits,  
Is an infirmity beneath a man:  
Why should we doubt his safe recovery?  
Since passion as we see, doth but disturb  
His reason, not destroy't; when he's at worst,  
He'll harken to the counsel of his friend.  
How earnestly he begs, that he may speak  
With Imperial, and it seems justinian  
Already condescends to his request;  
methinks that should not be, since he suspects  
Him to be privy to Francisco's death;  Eva. 
No doubt, justinian understands what's fit;  
Perchance if once he shall his mind unburden  
His passions may remit, or he may seem  
To promise, cause he would not have him crossed,  
These things we wholly must commit to him,  
Whose judgement's not inferior to his love:  
He wished us but withdraw awhile, we must  
Not be far off, lest he should chance to call,  
For whatsoe'er occasion they should have  
there's none but we t'assist: Sango the slave  
Hath taken liberty to go abroad,  
At his own pleasure, who would think the Villain  
Durst venture to be absent at this time?  Fid. 
I have observed a wondrous league of late  
Between him and his cousin slave; howe'er  
Their Lords are far asunder, they are near.  Eva. 
'tis ever best when such as they are kept  
To daily labour, the least ease corrupts them.  Fid. 
There might perchance be some discovery made  
If they were both examined apart,  
And made believe each other had confessed.  Eva. 
Some plot, 'tis like to steal a silver spoon  
To purchase Opium, or the drug Tobacco;  
That is the height of their ambitious theft:  
But hark they knock I prithee go thou in,  
And I'll take order to have Sango sent for.   

Actus Quintus. Scena Secunda.  Cater, Porter, Cook. Cat. 
THou blowest as much as he that carried  
An Ox upon his shoulders, set it down,  
there's for thy pains,  Port. 
Troth 'twas a heavy burden.  Cat 
there's two quatrines more.  Por. 
I thank you, sir.  Cook. 
Methinks Molosso might have saved this charge▪  
And been himself Porter.  Cat. 
Who the Slave?  
He's now our major Domo, our Lord told me  
He would deliver his commands by him.  
He gave me order to make this provision.  Cook. 
I like him he begins his government  
With bounty, now the Cook may show his skill;  
Since I came hither, I have been confined  
To several salads, porridge with scraped cheese,  
And a few Vermicelle, such slight dishes:  
O when I served the grand-duke's master Cook  
How we were all employed! I can remember,  
What lectures of our Mystery he'd read,  
Styling the belly master of all arts,  
And by a model of his own invention  
Demonstrate how the antique Cooks were wont  
To dress th'entire Boar; he was a Scholar  
And would discourse of the delicious Sumen  
And of the noble Patrons of the kitchen  
Both Greeks and Romans; he was wont to speak  
Most reverently of one Apitius,  Cat. 
Why what was he?  Cook. 
A man of a brave stomach,  
That spent upon his belly near three millions,  
And having cast up his accounts, and found  
Only two hundred and odd thousand crowns  
Remaining to support his appetite,  
Doubting he should be famished, rather chose  
To live by fame, and end his life with poison:  
But prithee knock; there was another too,  
One Nomentanus, but far short of him:  
Will they not open? we shall all be shent,  
Knock harder.  Cat. 
Sure they are asleep, perhaps  
The Slave being overleavened with his favour  
Hath made himself stark drunk; we shall disturb  
Our Lady and her Daughter, I much wonder  
Mistress Nugella comes not to the door.  Noise within. Oh. Cook. 
What noise is that within? somebody groans,  Cat. 
I will go seek our Patron.  Coo. 
Here he comes.   

Actus Quintus. Scena Tertia.  Imperiale, Cater, Cook. Imp. 
WHat, no for warder? w'are like to sup tonight  
At a fine hour?  Cat. 
W'have been a good while here sir,  
Have often knocked, but cannot be let in.  Coo. 
We thought we heard a groaning in the house.  Imp. 
How? knock again, yet, this is very strange,  
Where should Molosso be; perhaps my wife  
And daughter with their maids may all be busy,  
For I suppose they were to take a bath;  
He certainly would not neglect my service:  
I know not what to think, my jealousy  
Suggests a thousand fears, go presently,  
Desire the Engineer to lend m' an Engine,  
That I may force the door.   

Actus Quintus. Scena Quarta.  Molosso, Sango above, Imperiale below. Mol. 
SIr, here are they  
Mean to make good this Fort in spite of you,  
And all your Engineers.  Imp. 
What's thy intent?  
Thou know'st how far I trust thee dear Molosso.  Mol. 
It is not your untimely trust or favour  
(That is to me but sunshine after shipwreck)  
Can satisfy your former injuries:  
I would have spent an age in base observance,  
Only to gain this day, this happy hour  
That shall produce what no time shall forget.  Imp. 
I owe my life to thee and ever shall  
Make that acknowledgement, then do not thou  
Destroy thine own great merit.  Mol. 
Think not fond man,  
I saved thy life for any love of thee,  
But to reserve thee for a greater plague.  Imp. 
O my dear wife and daughter, where are they?  Mol. 
Both yet alive, the mischief's done already,  
But not the vengeance, thou shalt that behold,  
Till then there's nothing can be called revenge:  
Go bring 'em Sango, thou hast had thy fill  San. 
Of Nectar, sweeter far than that of jove.   

Actus Quintus. Scena Quinta.  justiniano's, Spinola, Imperiale, below, Molosse, Sango, Honoria, Angelica above. Iust. 
THe best Physicians in extremities,  
Allow their Patients what they most desire,  
Though ne'er so seeming hurtful: when diseases  
Exceed their safe and usual remedies,  
They many times are cured by contraries:  
What should this mean?  Spi. 
I must exact your promise.  Iust. 
Upon condition you'll forbear all outrage.  Spi. 
Set me my bounds, and see if I transgress.  Iust. 
Stand here then, and be silent.  Spi. 
Like a Statue.  Mol. 
Behold a pair of Brides, their hair displayed,  
Muse not to see 'em weep, the cause is light.  Imp. 
What is the woe that these strange signs import?  
Speak my Honoria, my Angelica.  Hon. 
That which no woman's tongue is fit t' express,  
Nor any humane ear fit to receive.  Imp. 
Mine ears may hear what such soft hearts can bear,  
I have a breast prepared for misery.  Hon. 
Behold the Wolves, the Bears, that our sad dreams  
Forewarned us of, which you did so despise.  Mol. 
You hear how light the cause is, but a dream.  Hon. 
Our wretched story's told and understood,  
In the sole repetition of that vision;  
The jewels ravished from our innocent necks.  
When swords and direful threats could not 〈◊〉  
By cruel force assisting one another,  
Wrung from us both.  Ang. 
Oh that heavens power had pleased  
According to my fervent invocation,  
To have transformed me to some ugly monster,  
That horror might have frighted away lust,  
Or else converted it to sudden rage,  
Whereby my life had ransomed mine honour!  Imp. 
Was there none near to aid? where was Nugella?  Hon. 
Bound, and then strangled, all the rest were forth.  Imp. 
What haste a wretched creature makes to hear  
His own dire wretchedness? but now Molosso,  
Since thou hast cloyed thy furious appetite,  
Unbind their tender hands, and send them down,  
That we may all condole their heavy fortunes.  Mol. 
If my revenge could have been satisfied  
With what's already done, it had done nothing;  
No, Bears and Wolves always persist to death,  
And I lament to find so narrow a Stage  
To act my vengeance on, as but two women:  
Sango prepare.  San. 
Command, and I obey.  Ang. 
Then there is hope to find compassion  
In more than Scythian breasts, there's but that left  
To expiate your former cruelty.  Imp. 
O spare their lives, and all shall be forgiven!  Mol. 
We are too far embarked to hope or wish  
To be forgiven, mischief's upheld by mischief.  Imp. 
Alas poor souls, what crime have they committed?  Mol. 
They are both thine Imperial, that's their crime,  
And 'tis the height of our triumphant glory,  
That thou shalt see 'em die, cast thine eyes up.  Imp. 
Villain, I will not, thus I snatch away  
That part of thy revengeful insolence, pulls out his eyes.  
So shall the Sun and Moon, heaven's rolling eyes,  
Drop from their spheres at the world's general ruin,  
T' avoid the spectacle, 'tis fit my light  
Should be extinguished with my dearest objects.  〈◊〉 
What? hast thou so deluded us? thine ears  
Although thou want'st eyes to see, shall hear their groans.  Hon. 
Oh, oh! Ang. Oh, oh!  Mol. 
I would have laboured more for this revenge,  
Than those that search the bowels of the earth  
For Mines, or dive into the Sea for pearls.   

Actus Quintus. Scena sexta.  Doria, Imperiale, Molosso, Sango, justiniano's, Spinola. Dor. 
WHose fortune should I envy? that am going  
To take possession of a happiness,  
Great, and (what crown felicity) secure?  
Such constant joy proceeds from virtuous love:  
But soft, what unexpected change is here?  
Either mine eyes mistake, or my Imperial  
Is quite deprived of his; alas, 'tis so:  
I am amazed at this sad spectacle.  Imp. 
There can be none but young Prince Doria left,  
So apprehensive of my misery.  Dor. 
What strange Eclipse? or dire Stymphalides  
With their prodigious wings obscure the sun?  
What cruel hand hath made us all thus wretched?  Imp. 
What thou beholdest, is the least part of mine,  
And thine own woe.  Dor. 
Where's my Angelica?  Imp. 
She and her mother both are vilely murdered;  
And that's not all, they both were ravished first  
By those two savage beasts.  Mol. 
'Tis thy fate Doria  
To be involved in that man's vowed destruction.  Dor. 
Where am I now, in fruitful Italy,  
Or in Hyrcania, where there's nothing seen  
But horrid monsters, and perpetual snow?  
O wickedness! that no age will believe!  
And all Posterity deny! malicious fate,  
That to my boundless misery add'st this;  
To make me suffer barbarous wrongs from such  
As are not capable of my revenge.  
Were the sole Monarch of the world, the actor,  
Or had he but connived at the deed done  
By his lustful son or minion; I might hope,  
Armed with the justice of my cause, to wrest  
The ill-swayed sceptre from him, and reduce  
Him and his race to unparalleled examples  
Of woeful pride, and miserable greatness.  
Then if abstracted spirits knowledge have  
Of humane vows, look down deflowered Maid,  
But yet no less a Virgin than a Vestal:  
Since honour cannot stoop to punish slaves,  
Whose vile condition sinks beneath that vengeance,  
'Bove which no tyrant's power could hope to climb.  
And since thy cruel sufferings (blessed soul)  
Require strict satisfaction, lo, I turn  
My fury on myself, and punish thus  
Mine own malignant fortune: who holds me?  offers to kill himself. 
Forbear, I may not be disarmed.  Iust. 
That man  
That is transported by a desperate rage,  
Disarms himself, he that may hinder mischief,  
And yet permits it, is an accessary.  Dor. 
Noble justinian, thou wert wont to be  
Full of compassion, show it now, and end  
A loathed life.  Iust. 
That which had been a crime  
Not to prevent, were wickedness to act.  Dor. 
Restore me then my sword, it is not worse  
To kill him that unwilling is to die,  
Than t' hinder him that's willing.  Iust. 
If thou kill'st  
thyself, thereby thou dost confess a guilt.  Dor. 
The guilty seldom inflict punishment  
Upon themselves; what wretch can keep a life  
So full of misery?  Iust. 
'Tis wretchedness,  
Not to be able to bear misery,  
It is not as thou think'st, renowned Doria,  
A virtue to hate life, but to endure  
These weighty strokes of Fortune valiantly,  
And this becomes thy noble birth and spirit,  
On which th'afflictions of the world should fall,  
But as tempestuous showers into the sea.  Dor. 
Thy counsel comes too late, sentence is given  
By me upon myself, nor canst thou save  
Or yet reprieve me, he that resolves to die,  
Finds weapons everywhere, my mind could arm  
These hands without a sword, but it disdains  
All borrowed aid; my weapons are within:  
If sudden joy can speedy death command,  
Why should not grief? and mine above all others?  
Then summon all thy forces mighty sorrow,  
Contract this stubborn heart and stifle it,  
Deny it the bold privilege, to be  
The last that feels the stroke of death: so, so,  
It shoots a vapour that will poison it,  
And choke each passage of the vital spirits,  
And now I feel it beat against my breast,  
As if it gave th'alarum unto all  
The organs of my life; O how it struggles,  
Disdaining to submit! proud rebel down,  
Thy ligaments are shrunk, and I approach  
The place, where Lovers after death reside,  
Where I a ghost will yet enjoy my Bride:  
Wilt thou not yield? dost thou expect relief?  
Time, that releaseth sorrow, shall not join  
With refreshed nature to repair thy ruin:  
I to a broken heart will add this doom,  
No substance within these lips shall come.  Mol. 
Thy daughter Imperial is canonised:  
With contrite heart devout Prince Doria,  
Hath vowed a fast to his Saint Angelica.  Imp. 
I feel so great a weight of misery,  
That I can scarce be sensible of more,  
Although it be (what's harder to be borne  
Than my calamity) a villain's scorn.  spi.. 
Thus shall my silence break, into remorse,  
Not into rage, that fever of the soul  
Is quite converted to an Apathy;  
Let me cry out to fate, as Hannibal  
At Can, to his bloody Soldiers, spare;  
Imperial know'st thou the voice of Spinola?  
By the most faithful head of my justinian  
(Than which there cannot be a holier found)  
I truly am moved with pity, thy sad story  
Would melt a flinty heart into compassion;  
Procrustes, or the wild Inhabitants  
Of horrid Caucasus are mild to these.  Imp. 
I know not, gentle Spinola how thou  
Canst accept thanks from me, that have from thee  
deserved so ill, It may not be supposed  
●●an dissemble now, that Villain there  
Contrived thy dear son's death without my knowledge,  
Though I am guilty of as great a crime,  
For I was willing, to my too late grief  
Upon discovery made by thine own Slave  
Of thy intent, to have the same retorted  
Upon thyself, the rest that wretch did plot,  
In whom I placed a wicked confidence;  
And did at length too much applaud the fact,  
From whence our mutual misery's result.  Spi. 
Thy crime was but diversion of an evil,  
Whereof I hate the memory, and wish  
I could drink deep of Lethe, to forget  
That impious design, and for these villains,  
I'll study a new punishment, that shall  
Transcend Perillus' Bull, and all the torments  
Invented by the fierce Sicilian tyrants.  Mol. 
'Tis wretchedness to fear where there's no hope,  
Couldst thou believe, vain Spinola, that we  
Would undertake to act so bold a mischief,  
And not resolve upon as brave an end?  
We that have gained such a full revenge,  
Mean not to lose it by a poor submission  
To hopeless mercy, or your new found torments;  
Though fortune made us wretched slaves to you,  
We both retain some sparks of th'active fire,  
Which the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
Did sometimes flame in our Numidean breasts,  
Not yet so quench thy servitude, but we  
Have will and power to free ourselves, behold  
Our liberty; these shall restore us now  
To that equality that nature gave,  
In which blind chance hath put a difference:  
One blow from these deliverers, can make  
An abject beggar equal to a King:  
Sango keep time.  San. 
I'm ready.  The slave's 〈◊〉 each other Mol. 
By consent  
We thus avoid & mock your punishment.  Spi. 
The Harpies are flown suddenly to hell,  
And hang already on that hideous rock;  
Where dreadful fiends lie gaping to receive 'em;  
But let me, sir, become your faithful guide  
To lead you to my house, where you shall live,  
And want no comfort love or cost can give.  Imp. 
The only comfort of a wretched soul  
Is to despair of comfort. I see not  
The mansion guilty of such wickedness,  
But I am seen, a wretch, in Genua,  
Where all my ancestors stand wreathed with honour:  
I'll wander to a desert, or else climb  
Some remote mountain, where dark clouds that hung  
About his high erected head, shall hide me  
From all the eyes of men, there I'll lament  
My miseries in willing banishment.  Iust. 
What need we care how powerful our foes be?  
When slaves can bring us to such misery?  
Whose innate cruelties at length appear,  
Though they the same may cunningly forbear,  
For their own ends; it is not wisdom then  
To place our trust in such conditioned men,  
Whom punishments, and wants, and fears prepare  
To hatred, to deceit, and to despair:  
Yet these are but poor instruments, the cause  
That on our heads heavens indignation draws,  
Springs from ourselves, 'gainst which there's no defence