THE AMOROUS FANTASME, A TRAGICOMEDY.  
By Sr. WILLIAM LOWER Knight.  
Amico Rosa, Inimico Spinae.  
HAGE, Imprinted by JOHN RAMZEY, Anno 1660.   


THE AMOROUS FANTASME TRAGICOMEDY    

TO HER HIGHNESS THE PRINCESS ROYAL.  
MADAM,  
IN presuming to dedicate this imperfect Piece to the most accomplished Princess of the Earth, I confess to show much more ambition than discretion, more rashness then solid reason and moderation; but seeing ordinarily that the greatest Persons have the least pride, and the most charity, I cast myself wholly upon your clemency, and fly the test of your judgement, which being so exact, would doubly condemn me, first in the design itself, next in the conduct, and consequence of it, as being a composition weak, and unworthy of so high a Patronage. If it may serve to divert Your Highness in some vacant hour when your sublime thoughts are suspended, I have the only end I aim at, and shall glory in the honour and happiness to introduce some thing with the New Year, which may give you the least satisfaction: My conclusion is a most humble petition for pardon, and a favourable censure of the bold ambition, which I have to entitle myself,  
MADAM, Your Highness' most humble, most obedient, and most Faithful Servant WILLIAM LOWER.   

PROLOGUE To the Court.  
HA'! what divine shapes strike mine eyes, and make  
My tongue to falter, and my limbs to shake,  
Through a respestfull awe and reverence,  
Which thus so strongly seyseth on my sense?  
These are no Phantasms, such as we present,  
But true Divinities from Heaven sent  
To grace our Earthly Theatre; then I,  
Who cannot stand before such Majesty,  
Fall on my knee, and in this posture pray  
I may be heard to speak before the Play:  
Madam, to you then, from whose beauteous sight  
Those lesser Stars derive their borrowed light,  
First I address me; and although I'm sent  
From the proud Poet with a compliment  
To let you know that he protests and saith  
His Scenes will please, I cannot have that faith:  
He swears that he prepares a Piece so rich  
In high conceptions, that it will bewitch  
Your eyes and ears, a Banquet that may please  
The Danity Palates of the Deities:  
Unheard of vanity! I cannot choose  
But undeceive you, know 'tis an abuse,  
You'll meet with no feast here, since the chief dish  
Which he presents, is neither flesh nor fish,  
But a mere Fantasme, garnished like a coarse,  
Larded, and served up with some love discourse,  
Vnsolid matter flourishes of wit,  
And airy fancies, in my judgement fit  
But for the public Stage, not to appear  
Within the verge of this illustrious Sphere,  
Where nothing but the quintessence of wit  
Should dare to enter: humbly I submit  
To your transcendent judgement my advice,  
And wish it may be found more rash than wise,  
For deign t' applaud the Play, and I'm content  
To suffer for it any punishment,  
t' Appease the Poet, whose rage will be hot  
Upon my head, if you protect me not:  
Auspicious Planets, rule this night, and shed  
Sweet influences on your board and bed.   

ACTORS.  

CARLOS. Lover of Isabel, and Friend to Fabritio.  
CLARINA. Woman to Isabel.  
FABRITIO. Lover of Climene.  
CLIMENE. Mistress to Fabritio, and to the Duke.  
JACINTA. Woman to Climene.  
FERDINAND. Duke of Ferrara.  
VALERIO. Captain of the Duke's Guards.  
ISABEL. Sister to Fabritio.  
ALPHONSO. Father to Fabritio and Isabel.  
LICASTES. Servant to Alphonso.  
CELIN. Servant to Carlos.  
GUARDS.   
The Scene is at Ferrara.   

THE AMOROUS FANTASME.  
A TRAGICOMEDY.  

ACTUS PRIMUS.  

SCENA PRIMA.  Carlos, Clarina, in a street. Carlos. 
ARt sure of it, Clarina? is it possible  
That Isabel now is sensible  
Of what I suffer for her, and resents  
In my behalf the fire which her fair eyes  
Have kindled in my heart?  Clarina. 
Sir, I assure you,  
'tis an undoubted truth, which I received  
From her own mouth.  Carlos. 
I'm much astonished  
With a success so charming.  Clarina. 
For my part,  
I wonder that you are astonished at it:  
Is it so great a miracle, I pray you,  
To see a Maid to change? we have a mind  
Alternatelie to turn love into hatred,  
Or hatred into love, such an effect  
As this so common in our Sex, should not  
Seem strange unto you: Isabel. is  
Of age sufficient to feel the effect  
Both of the fire she kindles, and o'th'evill  
Which she procures; the end, Sir, of her coldness  
Should not surprise you: who gives love, can easily  
Take it again; and when a young heart never  
Hath loved any thing, at the first fire  
That sparkles, 'tis inflamed; my Mistress is  
At sensible as fair you will be happy,  
If you are faithful.  Carlos. 
But comest thou by her order?  Clarina. 
To speak truly,  
She willed me to speak as from myself;  
But, Sir, your goodness is a gage that makes me  
To tell you all, 'tis by her express order  
That I have uttered this secret to you  
Of such importance; but you must be silent  
And discreet, if yov'll profit by the knowledge.  Carlos. 
But may I not at least acquaint her brother  
With my good fortune? he is bound by friendship  
To favour me, and I should do him wrong  
To disguise any thing to him.  Clarina. 
Oh! Sir,  
That's it my Mistress, dreadeth, believe me,  
Above all things: so fare you must be from  
Acquainting him therewith, that you should fear  
Lest he might have the least suspicion of it:  
Know you not yet that her inhuman Father,  
Will not permit her to give you her hand,  
That to uphould the splendour of his house,  
He'll raise his Son unto his Daughtets cost,  
And, as 'tis often practised now a days)  
Tosh one designs his goods, and to the other  
A Monastery?  Carlos. 
I know well that her Father  
Hath fuch a purpose, but though he be of  
A nature so inhuman, sure, her brother  
Is not so barbarous: we are tied together  
By such fair bonds of friendship, that I know  
He'll mix his interests with mine.  Clarina. 
If I  
May freely speak my thoughts here, I must tell you  
That interest can break the strongest bonds,  
That commonly men better keep their wealth  
Then their fidelity, and that there is  
No friend which they love equal with themselves  
Be sure you trust no person now a days,  
Danger still follows too much confidence:  
The less a good is known, the sweeter 'tis:  
last Sir, keep your secrets to yourself,  
My Mistress doth desire it.  Corlos. 
Oh! Clarina,  
It is enough, there is no teason more  
In this point to examine now, but I  
Obey without dispute; the name of Friend  
Must yield to that of Lover; but shall I  
See our fair Mistress by thy means this evening?  Clarina. 
Sir, it is very late.  Carlos. 
I know thy skill.  
And thou knowst— putteth gold in her hand.  Clarina. 
Yes, your liberalities.  
I'll go t'advertise her, as you desire,  
And presently return, if you will stay,  
Either to bring you up, or to persuade her  
To come down to you.— Exit Clarina.  Carlos alone. Carlos. 
Oh how sweet it is  
To mollisie a hard and cruel heart!  
How charming is Love, when 'tis mutual?  
what high content, what ecstasy of joy  
Feels a poor captive in his troubles, when  
The hand that tames him, helps to bear his chains?  
A good gained easily is not esteemed:  
The more it costs, the more 'tis precious:  
Although th' Horizon's covered with darkness,  
I easily discern the door to open;  
Doubtless, 'tis Isabel, I'll advance.   

SCENA SECUNDA.  Carlos, Fabritio. Carlos. 
My happiness is greater than I dared  
To fancy is, I can't express unto you,  
By what soe'er endeavour I can use,  
The fullnss of my passion and my joy.  Fabritio. 
Dear friend, I do beseech thee let us leave  
Vain compliments, I know shy goodness for me.  Carlos. 
Good God how I'm confounded! 'tis her brother Fabritio.— a side.  Fabritio. 
Thou knowest then, it seems,  
How highly fortune is propitious to me,  
My marsiage is concluded and agreed,  
And thou comest without doubt to wish me joy.  Carlos. 
Friend—  Fabritio. 
I'm certain, it is this that brings thee hither:  
Thou wilt congratulate my happiness.  Carlos. 
How ready, and ingenious he is  
To draw me out of trouble?— a side  Fabritio. 
Thou comes to take part in my ravishment.  Carlos. 
Thou shouldst do me a great wrong, to judge otherwise.  Fabritio. 
Know then that our desires did jump together:  
I was a going hastily unto thee  
To tell thee the glad ne Wes, I did believe  
Thou knewest it not, and did not think to be  
Prevented, I am highly redevable  
To thy rare friendship.  Carlos. 
I do nothing for thee  
That is considerable, my interest  
Alone bringeth me hither, and thou needest not  
To thank me for it.  Fabritio. 
How! what interest  
Canst thou have in this place?  Carlos. 
The same which friendship  
enjoineth me to take in thy contents.  
Between two faithful friends, such as we are,  
Every thing should be common, joy and happiness  
Possesseth both, when one of them enjoys it.  
Know when I bear a part in thy good fortune,  
I more oblige myself then thee, and am  
So well paid for my care and tenderness,  
That there needs no addition of thanks.  Fabritio. 
Know also of my part when Fortune doth  
Confer her favours on me, they are doubled  
When Carlos shares therein, and would diminish  
If he should not partake them; but who comes  
So late forth of our house?   

SCENA TERTIA.  Clarina, Fabritio, Carlos. Clarina addressing herself to Fabritio thinking to speak to Carlos. Clarina. 
SIr, enter quickly;  
My Mistress Isabel in her chamber  
Expecteth you and will.—  Fabritio. 
How, what will she?  Clarina. 
Misfortune! 'tis Fabritio, I must  
Dissemble.— a side.  Fabritio. 
Well, what will she, finish now.  Clarina. 
Sir, she would speak with you,  
T'express the joy whereto her love engageth her  
On the conclusion of your marriage.  Fabritio. 
I know her tenderness, and what I own her;  
Carlos and I will see her presently  
To give her a good night.   

SCENA QUARTA.  Climene, jacinta, Carlos, Fabritio. Climene coming out of her house. Climene. 
IT is Fabritios' voice this which I hear,  
I cannot come forth in a fit time.  Carlos. 
I willingly wait on you, your desires  
Are mine, you need not doubt them— to Fabritio.  Fabritio. 
Let us enter.  Carlos. 
How this success favoureth my flame!— a side  Fabritio stopped by Climeme. Fabritio. 
But who doth stop me? Heaven! it is a Woman,  
It seems she Would speak with me Carlos stay.  Carlos. 
I wait you here.  Fabritio. 
How comes it she withdraws  
When I advance?  Carlos. 
Without doubt she hath something  
To speak to you in private.  Fabritio. 
In the hope  
Wherein I am that I am he you seek,  
Be not offended that I dare t'approach:  
I've courage and civility enough  
T'esteem me fortunare if I could serve you:  
T'engage me, Madam, to the offer which  
I make to use my utmost cares and pains  
T'accomplish your desires, it is sufficient  
That Heaven hath given you the advantage to be  
Of that fair Sex unto which all own homadge:  
If I may notwithstanding without giving you  
The least offence be honoured to know  
Your name, you will increase my Zeal in giving me  
So fair a satisfaction.  Climene 
Take it then,  
My dear Fabritio, and know Climene.  Fabritio. 
Climene, my fair Mistress, what occasion  
Can bring thee here at such an hour as this?  
Thou doublest my fear and perturbation;  
The more thy voice assureth me; the more  
Uncertain am I: and so fare am I  
From coming forth of error, that I enter  
Into new Labyrinths, and doubts, I was  
More happy when I knew thee less; oh what  
Design hast thou, I cannot comprehend it?  CLIMENE. Climene. 
Leave me to speak, then, I will tell it thee.  
I will not say what joy and happy tapture  
Seized me when I understood the news,  
That by a joint accord our friends and parents  
At last had yielded to our marriage;  
My love, which thou shouldst not forget, exemps me  
To discourse this unto thee, and enjoins me  
To a relation much more important,  
And much less pleasing,  Fabritio. 
How! what thing is there  
In nature that can trouble our repose,  
Since as our hearts, our parents are agreed?  Climene. 
'tis of a longer date then from to day  
That Love useth to mingle with his sweets  
Much bitterness, those whom he flattereth  
At first, are soldome happy, his deceit  
Is equal to his blindness, and like Fortune,  
he's constant only in inconstancy:  
This is a truth, which thou shalt but to sensibly  
Conceive: one day which was the fatallest  
Of all my life, wherein my father burdened  
With age and sickness had the sorry honour  
To be by the Duke of Ferrara vissitted:  
This Prince knew me in this extremity,  
And thought to see some charms upon my pale  
And blubbered face, my ne eyes unluckily  
Wept unto his, and from the sources of  
My tears his flame took birth,  Fabritio. 
Oh Climene,  
I fear—  Climene. 
That fear offends me; my heart wholly  
Was thine, I gave it thee, and the Duke's passion  
Stirred up in me nothing but my aversion:  
Though I concealed this fire, thou hast no cause  
To complain at it, for before 'twas known,  
I hoped to quench it, and I scarce should yet  
Reveile it to thee, if thy interest  
Obliged me not to speak: on the report  
Which was spread of our marriage, the passion  
Of the Duke was converted into rage;  
He came unto me in his first transport,  
Swore to me solemnly that my choice was  
The sentence of thy death, that Love opposing  
My punishment, he thought to do more in  
Destroying what I loved; and to the end  
He might with the more rigour punish me,  
He would even to the bottom of thy heart  
Go for to seek me: Lastly knowing well  
That his desire is to assault my life  
In threatening thine, conducted here by love,  
And more by fear, I come to conjure thee  
T'avoid his fury; fly hence, what soever  
Care for me keeps thee back here, and to save  
My life, preserve thine.  Fabritio. 
This discourse is cruel  
As much as it appeareth sweet: should you  
Advice me to absent me from your person?  
Sure I should little know what 'tis to love,  
T'obey you in this point: Come, come, say all,  
Confess your love is changed, that my remains  
Of hope must vanish, and that the Duke's flame  
Hath dazzled you, I see well that mine here  
Is troublesome, that you abandon Love  
To follow Fortune, and that poor Fabritio  
With all his fetters pleaseth your fair eyes  
Less than a crowned Captive: I condemn not  
This signal rigour; you deprive me of  
A happiness whereof I was not worthy,  
And in receiving of a Sceptre offered  
Unto your beauties, you obtain much less  
Than you deserve. Reign, nothing is dishonourable,  
To gain a diademne; and as I love you  
More than myself, I shall esteem my death  
A fair design, if entering into  
A tomb, I leave you in a throne,  Climene. 
Fabritio,  
Canst thou love me, and speak thus? really  
Thou detract'st from my glory in this thought  
That I can be unfaithful, banish it,  
It is thy enemy and mine; suspicion  
Between us two should be a hideous monster;  
Canst thou be ignorant with any justice,  
That I love less a sceptre than Fabritio,  
And find more joy in being captive with thee  
To reign over thy heart, then o'er the universe?  Fabritio. 
It is enough, Climene, my devout  
And amorous soul, which ever must adore thee  
Although thou shouldst abuse it, would believe thee:  
And though a lie carries a swarthy face,  
In issumg from thy mouth it would have charms;  
But how comes it to pass that when they sweetness  
For my sake flies a crown, thou dost ordain me  
To departed, and to leave thee? how to leave thee.  
And in a Rivals power to! no, this remedy  
Is worse than the disease. Suffer my presence,  
Or suffer my despair, what matter is it  
Whether the Duke, or absence kill Fabritio  Climene. 
When two inevitable dangers meet  
To invade us at once, 'tis wisdom still  
To think of the most pressing, here thy ruin  
Is certain, being absent, thou canst live;  
Consider this, that to what punishment  
Soer our love exposeth thee, thou canst not  
Suffer but I must suffer too, nor die,  
But I must cease to live, for know absuredlie  
My days shall finish with thy destiny;  
When we are dead, the grave shall be a witness  
Of our reunion? where I see thee not  
No object pleaseth me; if thou art yet  
Incredulous of words and protestations,  
At least believe my tears.  Fabritio. 
Oh open not  
Those precious sluices, keep that treasure in;  
Increase not my affliction with thy grief:  
Not all the blood which tunneth in my veins  
Is worth the least drop of these liquid pearls,  
The evils wherewith my life is threatened  
Are too well paid with a single tear.  Climene. 
Oh leave those vain discourses, and departed.  Fabritio. 
Well, well, Climene, I must then obey.  Climene. 
I have as much cause here to be afflicted,  
As satisfied, I fear more thy departure  
Then wish it, and I give my faith unto thee,  
That thou shouldst not departed, if I could keep thee  
And expose but myself. Let's separate;  
But what! this fatal image robbeth me  
Already of my strength, spare me, I pray thee,  
In parting hence the danger here to die  
In bidding thee adieu.— Exit Climene.  Fabritio. 
Climene flies me;  
O lamentable destiny!   

SCENA QUINTA.  Carlos, Frabitio. Carlos. 
FRiend, comfort thee.  Fabritio. 
I am inconsolable,  
And must die, Carlos, since I must absent me.  Carlos. 
Thou shalt be happier, if thou wilt hear me,  
I have a means that thou shalt not departed,  
And yet, in safety too, shalt see Climene,  
Alone, and without trouble.  Fabritio. 
To abuse  
Thy friend, is but an odd way, in my judgement,  
T'assist him, 'tis to aggravate my evil,  
And not to heal it: is there any art  
To tender me invisible?  Carlos. 
For once then  
Believe that I will do for thee a thing  
Which seems impossible, give me leave to speak  
And in a moment thou shalt lose thy grief,  
And thy astonishment: Thou knowest well  
That Italy hath for a certain time  
Been troubled with two factions, whose partakers  
In every city name themselves a loud  
The Guelps and Gibelins: on this occasion  
My Father and Climenes 'gainst each other  
Took an immortal hatred; through their credit  
And their condition, each made himself  
Head of a faction; the Duke receiving  
Advertisement thereof, and apprehending.  
The issue of this enmity, so strongly  
Conceived, made them both to be arrested,  
Not without, reason, and confined them  
As prisoners, each one to his own house.  
My Father who saw his pretention vain,  
Knowing his house was near unto the others,  
Had recourse unto cunning, and believed  
That every thing was lawful to destroy  
The greatest of his enemies; to work then  
His ruin, and in private too, he caused  
A close Mine to be digged even underneath  
His adversaries garden; being finished,  
My Father fell sick, and soon after died;  
I was, as thou know'st by the right of birth  
Heir of his goods, and not of his revenge;  
But though I should now have a hatred for  
Climene, I should sacrifice it wholly  
Unto thy love; in opening this Mine,  
Thou may'st, without being seen, have easy access  
Unto thy Mistress, and to execute it  
Securely, we will make all men believe  
That thou art gone.  Frabitio. 
How infinitely am I  
Indebted to thee? how shall I acquit me?  Carlos. 
My friendship is offended very much  
At these expressions of acknowledgements.  
I'll to the Duke expressie t'understand  
What his intentions are concerning thee.  
Enter into my house.— Exit Carlos.  Fabritio. 
I'll go t'impart  
This secret to Climene. But what hear I?   

SCENA SEXTA.  The Duke, Valerio, Fabritio. jacinta, Guards. Duke. 
Do that which I commanded.  Valerio knocks, at the door of Climenes' house. Fabritio. 
'tis the Duke.  
Rage overcomes my reason.  Duke. 
What averseness  
Soe'er Climene hath unto my flame  
Some little hope yet flattereth my soul,  
I've gained her woman; who hath promised  
This night to bring me ptivatelie into  
Her chamber, the door openeth, jacinta!  jacinta coming from Climene. jacinta 
Yes every thing succeedeth to your wish,  
My Mistress is deceived and takes you for  
Fabritie, she commanded me to open  
Without delay, her order doth excuse me  
In letting you to enter, lose no time;  
But I hear her descend, speak not a word,  
Without doubt, she'll mistake herself.  Duke, 
We will  
Be cleared therein, let us approach a little.   

SCENA SEPTIMA.  The Duke, Climene, Fabritio, jacinta, Valerio, Guards. Climene addressing herself to the Duke and thinking to speak to Fabritio. Climene. 
WHar wouldst thou, my dear Lover?  Fabritio. 
Ha', dear Lover!  
Heavens! what is this I hear!  Climene. 
I have cause, really,  
To complain of thee, couldst thou not one night  
At my request refrain my company?  
Yet I excuse thee upon this presumption  
That who loves well is little Master of  
Himself, and can't deny but my charmed soul  
Complains here but of being too much loved.  Fabritio. 
May I believe this? Heaven! am I enchanted?  Climene 
Thou needest not doubt this truth; when I would be  
Angry against thee, suddenly I check  
Myself, and when my mouth accuseth thee,  
My soul defends thee.  Duke. 
Fortunate Fabritio— a side  Fabritio. 
O happy Rival!— a side.  Climene. 
Thou dost know my love.  FABRITIO. 
I knew it ill.— a side  CLIMENE. 
What! answearest thou nothing?  
Doubts thou my flame, or fearest thou that another  
More pleasing object drives thee from my soul?  
What ever happens, rest thyself assured  
That my love and my life shall have one course,  
And that it is impossible for me  
No more to love thee.  DUKE. 
How unhappy am I?— aside.  FABRITIO. 
How miserable am I?— aside.  CLIMENE. 
What obligeth thee  
To murmur still thus to thyself? must I  
Confirm my love unto thee by some oaths?  
If my flame for thee make not all my glory,  
If thou alone possessest not my heart,  
And all my thoughts, let—  FABRITIO. 
Swear not ingrate full and perfidious Woman,  
It needeth ' not, I do believe thy words.  DUKE. 
Thy death shall soon follow thy insolence:  
My Guards.  Fabritio flying. FABRITIO. 
It is in vain to make resistance.  Valerio and the Guards go after Fabritio. DUKE. 
Pursue, and kill him.  JACINTA. 
Alas! I'm dead with fear.  CLIMENE, 
I faint, I faint, jacinta, hold me up.  Duke. 
Let him die, 'tis but just, too great a merit  
Is often a great crime, in ruining  
This Rival, I may gain what I desire;  
And if he perish not, my hope must perish:  
Let's see if the success answereth my wish.   

SCENA OCTAVA.  Valerio, The Duke, jacinta, Guards. Valerio. 
OH, Sir, 'tis done, he's dead, in vain he did  
Endeavour to defend himself, he fell  
Pierced with a thousand mortal strokes, his soul  
Found overtures enough to sally forth  
His bloody body, covered o'er with wounds  jacinta. 
Oh! stay Sir.—  Coming forth of Climenes' house. Duke. 
Thy cares are superfluous.  
I am revenged, laciuta, and Fabritio  
Is dead.  jacinta. 
Oh if you love Climene, enter not  
Into the house, she's scarce recovered yet  
Of a great faintness which seif don her spirits.  Duke. 
The blood which I have shed, will cost her tears,  
I will not go, to add unto her griefs,  
But retire me, a while, in the mean time,  
Valerio, let it be your charge to go  
Unto Fabritios' Father, to acquaint him  
With his son's death, and further let him know  
That for his rash and saucy insolence,  
He hath received but a just recompense.  
The End of the first Act.    

AGTUS SECUNDUS  

SCENA PRIMA.  Isabel, Clarina, In a Chamber. Isabel. 
WHo enters there?  Clarina. 
Madame, it is Valerio,  
Who from the Duke Discourseth with your Father  Isabel. 
What pressing business might bring him here?  Clarina. 
To tell you, I should be a Prophetess.  Isabel. 
A message at this hower's not ordinary.  Clarina. 
It doth appear as strange to me, as you.  Isabel. 
Let us expect the issue on't, and change  
Discourse,  Clarina. 
You feign would have me speak of Carlos;  
Madam, confess it.  Isabel. 
I cannot deny  
But I am pleased, when I hear him praised.  Clarina. 
I should not be in my right sense if I  
Should speak ill of him, he is a brave man,  
And of a Liberal and obliging nature,  
He merits much.  Isabel. 
But in what manner did he enrertaine  
Th' intelligence thou gav'st him that my h●● our  
Towards him was inclined to more sweetness,  
And that my heart at last disp of d itself.  
To love him?  CLARINA. 
With transports, and ecstasies,  
Which cannot be expressed.  ISABEL. 
Hast thou been careful  
To tell him cunningly, according to  
Those rules I gave thee, that to do him service  
Thou didst betray thy Mistress, and gav'st him  
That notice without my consent?  CLARINA. 
Yes, Madam  
I told him so, and very handsomely;  
But your strange love surpriseth me, you fear  
that he should know it, and yet tell it him:  
If he less knew it, would you be more pleased?  
What humourous fancies are in Lovers spirits?  ISABEL. 
Though I love Carlos, (be it reason, or  
Fancy that guides me) I believe I do  
Myself wrong, when I do justice to him;  
The hashfulnes which Heaven hath put into  
Our Sex, for bids us to be free in what  
Concerns the point of love; nor must we think  
any thing lawful in relation to't:  
And by that power, which I know not myself,  
I cannot without blushing say, I love:  
It seemeth that our eyes made to tame hearts,  
When those that were our captives do become  
Our conquerors, although they find the dart  
Lovely and charming that subjected us,  
Cannot without some shame, behold this change  
The art to despise love, my heart no longer  
Can practise, but o Heaven! whom see I Carlos?  
So late here in my chamber.   

SCENA SECUNDA.  CARLOS, ISABEL, CLARINA. CARLOS. 
PArdon me  
This bold intrusion, seeing the door open,  
I could not but lay hold of the occasion;  
And following my love, I thought I might  
With out offending you with disrespect  
Enter, to cast myself at your fair feet.  ISABEL. 
How fancy you that I can be so little  
Respectful of my honour, as to suffer  
A visit from you without being offended?  
No, Sir, your hope deceives you, and this liberty  
You take, denoteth in you little love,  
Or too much Vanity: can I believe  
You love me well, in giving to yourself  
A licence thus to make foul-mouthed detraction  
Inveigh against me, or can you imagine,  
Without great folly in yourself, that I  
Can approve this design so little modest,  
And not b'offended at it?  CARLOS. 
Though I can  
Produce some reason here for my defence,  
I hold me criminal, since I offend you,  
And should but little profit to persist  
In the opinion of my innocence  
When your fair mouth condemns me,  ISABELLA. 
I condemn you,  
'tis very true, and for your punishment  
I banish you; you must go forth.  Carlos. 
I dare not  
Appeal upon your sentence, but retire;  
I obey with regreet, but without murmur.  Isabel. 
How Sir, begun so soon, what motives pray you,  
Induce you thereunto?  Carlos. 
Since you ordain it  
I must departed, 'tis fit that I obey you.  Isabel. 
I should think, Carlos, that you obey here  
Some what too quickly for a perfect Lover:  
Believing that you loved me, I appeared  
Too proud, and scornful: 'tis an asstired maxim.  
That one loves coldly what he quitteth easily;  
Love is but il expressed by respects;  
Who readily obeys, knows not to love  Carlos. 
I am astonished at this discourse;  
Can you Complain, I quit you, Isabella,  
When I obey you 'gainst my sentiment  
When my love glittereth in my submission,  
And when by a kind heat, which is not common,  
My happiness displeaseth me, when it  
Offendeth you? What would you then have said,  
If seeking only my own sarisfaction,  
I had preferred my desires and wishes  
Before yours? in what manner can? I please you,  
If in obeying you, I anger you.  Isab 
You argue too well for a 〈…〉 love.  
Where love is strong, reason 〈◊〉 impotent;  
The one can't be established, 〈◊〉 the other  
Subsists; sometimes a maid would be resisted,  
And obstinately loved 'gainst her consent;  
And as her close desires are very seldom  
Expressed, she often speaketh with intent  
To meet a contradiction, and to be  
Enforced unto that which she desires:  
According to this maxim, possibly,  
I have on this occasion discoursed  
Conrrarie to my sentiment, and perhaps,  
I should be so fare from believing me  
Injured thereby, that you would have obliged me,  
In not obeying me.  Carlos. 
I'm raped in pleasant wonder, if those words  
Astonish me, they charm me more; if I  
Must stay to please you, nothing is more easy,  
Then to content you fully in that point:  
Seeing obedience is not pleasing to you;  
I will stay, Madam, and will not obey.  Isabel. 
It is too late; begun, my mind is changed;  
Occasion is lost assoon as ' passed;  
You would have too much pride, and I should have  
Too little, if after such a confession  
I should detain you here.  Carlos. 
This order is  
Severe and rigorous.  Isabel. 
But it is just:  
I love not always to be disobeyed.  
Fellow Clarina, go, and have a care  
You be not seen. O Heaven! I hear my Father.  Clarina. 
Alas! we are undone; perhaps, he doubted  
Of your intelligence, enter forthwith  
Into this closet.   

SCENA TERTIA.  Alphonso, Clarina, Isabel. ALPHONSO. 
Oh Daughter, daughter!  ISABELLA, 
He appeareth furious.— a side.  
I read my sad misfortune in his eyes.  ALPHONSO 
Can I live after such high injuries?  ISABEL. 
What is the Matter, Sir?  ALPHONSO. 
How! demandest thou?  
Dost thou not plainly see in the excess  
Of my quick griefs, that I am burthered with  
The greatest of misfortunes?  ISABEL. 
What miffortune.  
Oh! Father?  ALPHONSO. 
Isabel, Isabel,  
I must no more be called by that name.  ISABELLA, 
I feigned in vain, 'tis best to confess all.  ALPHONSO. 
O fatal change. Heaven, who could'er have thought it?  ISABEL. 
Sir, I beseech you, hear me  ALPHONSO. 
What wouldst thou  
That I should hear, I know now but to well  
What that love costeth me which taketh pleasure  
In blood and tears, and hideth deadly poisons,  
When it shows flowers.  Isabel. 
I confess—  Alphonso. 
Oh how often.  
Our expectations are deceived, in'wishing  
Children, we wish troubles, and punishments.  Isab. 
If his death  Alph. 
Yes, his death is certain,  Isabel. 
Suffer  
That by my tears—  Alphonso. 
Thou shedst them in vain.  Isabel. 
Father, revenge is easy.  Alphonso. 
But alas?  
What should I enterprise against the Duke?  Isabel. 
The Duke? What say you?  Alphonso. 
Art thou ignorant,  
That my son by his order received death?  Isabel. 
I know it not; oh miserable destiny?  Alphonso. 
Valerio from him brought me the sad news,  
And would enforce me to agree with him,  
That he in killing him did not unjustly:  Isabel. 
What cruelty is this? waste not enough,  
Through an unjust and barbarous constraint,  
To forbid you a just revenge, but even  
To complain of the injury?  Alphonso. 
True, Daughter;  
To punish yet my son after his death,  
They will I understand it, and not murmur:  
It seems they have a mind, that I should go  
To kiss the hand that murthets me, as being  
Stained, and smoking yet writh my son's blood.  Isabel. 
But Sir, consider in this sad conjuncture,  
That my dear Brother's body doth expect  
Interment.  Alphonso. 
Yes, I have taken care for that,  
By order from me it is to be brought  
To this apart ement.   

SCENA QUINTA.  Licastes, Alpbonso, Isabel. Clarma. Licasles. 
THe death, Sir, of your son is but to certain  
 brought his body into the next chamber.  
Some little distance from this place we found it  
Stripped, and so much disfigured with wounds,  
That we should not have judged it to be his,  
If seeking carefully we had not found  
His coat not fare of, and a little further  
His hart: The thing which troubleth me most  
In this misfortune is, that having made  
A fruitless search all over for the rest  
Of his habiliments, I could not find  
Any one of them, and can not imagine  
Who should have ta'en them thence.  Alphonso. 
Unhappy Son  
Of an unfortunate Father!  Licastes. 
Sir, you may  
From hence see this sad object, if you please  
To cause that curtain to be drawn aside.  Alphonso. 
Draw it, Licastes, let me see my sorrow;  
We would be private, every one retire.  The curtain is drawn, and he sets upon a bed a murdered body. 
I cannot in this Lamentable object  
Discern one seature of my Son, and scarce  
Will my confusion give me leave to know  
Him whom I have begotten, lying thus  
In such a mangled condition.  
Son, if it may be lawful in the sad  
Estate wherein our miseries have put us  
For me to use that name sometime so sweet,  
I must then say unto thee, that this spectacle  
Makes me to feel thy wounds more sensibly  
Than thou thyself didst when thou didst receive them:  
Thy miserable destiny and mine  
Differs not much, the blood which thou sheddest is  
The purest in my veins, the arm whose rigour  
Hasted thy death, gave not the fatal stroke  
Through thy heart, but it entered in my bowels:  
And if we differ any thing in such  
A miserable fortune, 'tis in this,  
That I still feel the pressing evils, which thou  
Sufferest no more. Sources of my afflictions,  
Deep wounds, which appear now but bloody mouths,  
Whose silent accents seem here to folissit  
My arm to a revenge, know that a subject  
Holds not his Sovereign's fate between his hands:  
In vain ye ask revenge 'gainst such a blood;  
Alas here I can offer you no other,  
But what my heart makes to flow from mine eyes.  Isabel. 
The cruelty o'th' Duke, Sir, should be punished.  Alphonso. 
He is my Prince, although in my concernment  
A tyrant, subjects destinies depend  
Upon their Sovereigns, a crime becomes  
Just in their hands; and if at any time  
Those earthly Gods ought to be punished ',  
It must be by a thunder bolt from Heaven:  
In this case I should make but vain attempts.  
If the Duke die, shall my Son live again?  
But what chance brings Clarina here in such  
Distracted haste?   

SCENA QUINTA.  Clarina, Alphonso, Isabel. Clarina. 
Oh Signior, oh Madam!—  Alphonso. 
What ails thee, art thou mad?  Clarina. 
Oh, I have seen—  Alphonso. 
What hast thou seen that troubleth thee so much?  Clarina. 
I have seen, I have seen—  Alphonso. 
What hast thou seen?  
Speak, I conjure thee.  Clarina. 
Since than I must speak it,  
I've seen a dead man walk.  Alphonso. 
thoust lost thy reason.  Clarina. 
Nothing's more true, that fearful Fantasme follows  
My steps, I hear him, he pursues me; save me.  Isabel. 
It is my Brother—  Alphonso. 
Strange! It is my Son.   

SCENA SEXTA.  Alphonso, Fabritio, Isabel. Alphonso. 
Son, is my soul sure, or am I deceived,  
Is this but an illusion which I see  
But a vain object form by my fancy?  
If so, finish my life here with my error?  
Mayst thou yet be i'th' number of the living?  
Fabritio, is't thy body that I see  
Or is't thy shadow? comest thou to fill me  
With joy, or with affright? come satisfy me.  
Let me embrace thee.  Fabritio. 
I see the light, Sir, and I find here charms,  
Since you esteem my life at such a rate  
As to lament it lost; not but as injured  
By love and fortune, they should not do to me  
A favour to deprive me of the light;  
But though they should oblige me very much,  
In the condition wherein my soul  
Is now, to quench my fierce flame with my blood,  
And though my blood thus shed would make my fortune,  
More sweet, I would conserve it, since 'tis yours.  Alphonso. 
How comes it that thou hast so strong a hatred  
For life? thou canst not doubt Climenes' love;  
The passion of the Duke alarumes thee  
Too much; if thou lov'st much, thou art no less  
Beloved.  Fabritio. 
A fair appearance oftentimes  
Beareth false witness, I assured myself  
Too much of her fidelity, and though  
I could doubt the report my senses made me,  
I have too sure a testimony of her  
perfidiousness, since her own mouth confirmed it:  
She entertained in amorous discourse  
My happy Rival with so passionate  
An air, that I forgot both my respect  
Unto the Duke, and the care of my life,  
In uttering my despite; the Duke possessed.  
Strongly with love and hate, gave express order  
Unto his Guards to kill me; but I knowing  
That my defence then was unprofitable,  
Under a dark porch sought my sanctuary,  
Whilst an unfortunate stranger walking that way  
They took to apprehend me in the dark,  
Was suddenly environed with the Guards,  
And pierced through with halberds, assoon as  
Those murderers were gone, to draw my life  
Out of such hazards, and to make this error  
More probable, I took the bloody   
Of that deplorable body, and was ready  
To leave it mine, having cast his into  
The current of the river, when a noise  
Of voices crossing my design, I was  
Constrained to leave that body naked and  
Without life, to come speedily to you,  
And to advertise you of this event.  Alphonso. 
I fear the issue of this blessed succsse;  
Know that the Duke boasts of thy death already,  
He thinks it just, which maketh me to judge  
That thy preserved life is still in danger;  
If thou desirest to obey thy Father,  
Stay not a minute here, but seek thy safety  
In sudden absence,  Fabritio. 
But What! must I leave  
Climene?  Alphonso. 
She hath left thee, her example  
Shows thee the way to infidelity;  
If to betray a person that doth love us  
Be a base act, to love one that betrays us.  
Is no less weakness.  Fabritio. 
I am still a Lovet,  
Though an abused Lover, and she hath.  
More beauty than injustice, her crime puts  
No fearful object in her eyes and countenance,  
Although she cease to love, she ceaseth not  
To be beloved, and my heart charmed by her,  
Deceives itself, if it thinks to be able  
To hate her, though she hath betrayed it.  Alphonso. 
I find that absence is the only remedy  
For this disease, 'tis fit thy passion yield  
To my desires; fly through obedience,  
Or through resentment, oh assure thy safety  
By thy remove, 'tis that which Idesire.  Fabritio. 
And which I fear.  Alphonso. 
That matters not.  Fabritio. 
But Sir—  Alphonso. 
But I command it thee: for fear to be  
Perceived, go forth without attendance and  
Without noise unto Carlos house, and there  
Pass the rest of the night; to morrow early  
Before the day break, take the way to Florence,  
Where I have many Friends that will defend thee.  
In the mean time I'll send thee by a friend  
A horse and money for thy journey; haste.  Fabritio. 
My Sister.  Alphonso. 
Add not to my misery  
By sad regretts: be gone, be gone; adieu;  
Let me embrace thee, I deprive myself  
Of my most dear support, but though I lose thee,  
'tis with intent to save thee.— Exit Fabritio.   

SCENA SEPTIMA.  ALPHONSO, ISABEL. Isabel. 
By what cruelty  
Banish you my dear Brother?  Alphonso. 
Isabel,  
Thou speakest like a Sister, and I act  
As Father, it is fare more pleasing to me  
To have an absent Son, than none at all:  
I will deceive the Duke by taking of  
His unjust pursuit 'gainst his life, when he  
Shall fully understand his death: I will  
To morrow that my house be all in mourning,  
That this corpse be interred for my Son;  
And to the end that all Ferrara be  
Deceived with the Duke, I'll honour it  
With funeral pomp, this is a debt we owe.  
Unto a blood, whose loss hath conserved ours,  
Although we had no further use of it.  
Lastly—   

SCENA OCTAVO.  Fabritio, Alphonso, Isabel. Fabritio. 
S It—  Alphonso. 
What is it that troubles thee?  Fabritio. 
I met the Duke, Sir, at our door, he followed  
A torch, which might, perhaps, discover me,  
I hear noise, he pursues me, oh receive him,  Alphonso. 
O duty too unjust! cruel constraint!  
Go quickly with thy Sister Isabel  
Intothat closet.  Isabel. 
He goes to Carlos house, what shall I do?  Fabritio. 
Come along with me, what should hinder you?  Isabel. 
I fear you should be seen, and there fore would  
That the light might be put out in this place.  Fabritio. 
I contradict not, les us enter then.   

SCENA NONA.  Carlos coming out of the closet. Carlos. 
They are both entered, I must quickly forth:  
Fortune no longer seemeth to be contrary  
To my designs; the way is free; but what!  
I hear the Father's voice: oh how unhappy  
Am I?   

SCENA DECIMA.  The Duke, Valerio, Alphonso, Carlos, Guards. Duke. 
ALphonso, I am not deceived,  
Your soon is Living, I have seen him: having  
Understood, that Climene in a soowne  
Fainted, being careful of so fair a life,  
And guided by my love, I went unto  
Her house, where happily I saw your son:  
I know that she adores him, and dare say  
That her disease will Vanish, if he Lives:  
Lastly I wish it, and am come of purpose  
To be informed clearly of this truth.  Alphonso showing the Duke the body which is upon the bed. Alphonso. 
SIr, you may easily be cleared herein;  
Behold my son, judge if his loss be certain:  
You feared him living, do not fear him dead.  
See, his congealed blood fmoaks at your presence  Duke. 
It is too much, I'm fully satisfied  
That he is dead; but what did Carlos here  
Without light?  Carlos. 
To secure my Friend, I must  
Feign hand somlie— aside,  Duke. 
He seems to be astonished.  Carlos. 
Sir, 'tis not without cause that I am so.  
For coming here to understand the news  
of my dear Friend Fabritios' destiny,  
Assoon as I entered that open chamber,  
His Ghost appeared before me in a posture  
So dreadful, that I tremble to think on't:  
He had the figure of a fearful Fantasme,  
His bosom was opened with a large wound,  
His colour pale, and all his bod, bloody.  
He came towards me with a staggering pace,  
And darted forth a look though languishing  
Yet fierce; a bleak, and black blood issued  
Out of his mouth, and in his eyes grim death  
Walked the round.  Duke. 
I also saw just now  
Fabritios' shape, but much less horrible,  
Mc thought he was allve.  Carlos. 
I dare engage  
My credit, that your Highness saw his shadow  
Aswell as I.  Duke. 
'tis that which doth confound me.  
I still held for a fable what the vulgar  
Report, of vain ghosts, and could not imagine  
That a spirit once departed from a body,  
Should leave the dead to come among the living,  
Cease to be simple, and be visible,  
Having no more a body. Notwithstanding  
This success stattles me, I could not think it,  
And now I cannot doubt it. But adieu,  
I see your grief increaseth by my presence.  Alphonso. 
Sir, I wait on you.  Duke. 
I know what is a Farther, and that nature  
Will not allow him to pay homadges  
To him that lobbs him of a Son— Exit Duke.  Alphonso. 
How highly—  
Am I indebled to you for this favour?— To Carlos  Carlos. 
It is not great; 'ttwere requisire Fabritio  
Should instantly betake him to my house,  
From whence he may unseen make his escape,  
I'll go unto the Duke now, to confirm him  
Yet stronger in his error.— Exit Carlos.   

SCENA UNDECIMA.  Alfonso, Fabritio, Isabel. Alphonso. 
Go, and choose  
Florence to morrow for retreat.  Fabritio. 
Sir—  Alphonso. 
Let me  
Receive no more replies, do what I bid thee,  
All my desires should be strong laws to thee,  
A diew, let me give thee the last embrace.  Isabel. 
Sir, notwithstanding all your care, I fear  
My brother can't submit himself unto  
This severe order; by his last discourse  
I comprehended too well that he loves  
Climene still after all her contempts,  
And that his blinded soul is still resolved  
To lose all, rather than to lose her sight.  Alphonso. 
I will be satisfied herein, and know  
The means to do it, fail not thou to morrow  
Towards the evening to go to Climene:  
The evil, that hath surprised her, invites thee  
Unto this Duty; for my part, I will  
Make Carlos a visit at that time:  
If my son stays, I doubt not but to sinde him  
In one or to their house; but it is late,  
Adieu, in humane Fortune give unto thee  
As much rest, as I have unquietness,  
And trouble at my heart.— Exit Alphonso.  Isabel. 
'Las! mine doth bleed  
With double grief, though the first wound be hid,  
The End of the Second Act.    

ACTUS TERTIUS,  

SCENA PRIMA.  The Duke, Jacinta, in Climenes' Garden. jacinta. 
THis is the Garden, Sir, where presently  
My mistress comes to walk her melancholy:  
The grief she taketh for her Lover's loss.  
And her decayed health distracts her judgement;  
Although the danger of her malady  
Be great, she walks, and would even fly herself.  
Be you assured her griefs will suddenly  
Conduct her here to weep her sad misfortunes,  
And you may see her without witnesses,  
And without trouble, if your Highness please  
To fetch a turn or two in this close Alley.  Duke. 
Thy care augments my trouble, not my hope;  
I burn, and fear to see her equally:  
I burn to see her when I represent  
Unto my amorous soul a charming Image  
With all its beauties, and I fear to see her,  
When my sad fancy represents unto me  
The rigour of those fair offended eyes:  
'tis an undoubted truth, I fear to see  
That fair afflicted one to reproach me  
The evils wherein my flame hath plunged her,  
To say that hatred is the only fruit  
Of my addresses, and that with my Rival  
My spirit is destroyed.  jacinta. 
Your Highness, Sir  
Should be prepared against the bloody taunts  
Of a beblubbered Mistress: to speak truly,  
And not to flatter you, I cannot see  
The least hope that she will be wrought to love you  
By this sweet way you take; I should advise you  
Unto another course, make use of force,  
Where kindness cannot work; ravish a good.  
Which is denied to you; take her hence,  
Who is so foolish and so rigorous,  
And force her to be happy 'gainst her will.  Duke. 
How, take her hence by force? oh no, I cannot  
Consent unto it, force can never be  
Compatible with love, I would be loved  
Without constraint, and cherished with out fear.  
So fare would her disdain be by this means  
From ceasing, that it would take deeper root,  
As having juster ground to propagate.  jacinta. 
Your reasons are not altogether lawful;  
Our Sex, Sir, hath strange maxims, oftentimes  
It feels not what it doth express, and seldom  
Loveth Death's fatal wracks, after a fortune  
Of such a nature, love in woman's heart  
Turns unto grief, and that grief vanisheth:  
Her oaths and cries are of no consequence,  
Her passion dies, when th' object is no more.  
Perhaps, Climene at this very hour,  
Feels that ambition from love's ashes springs  
Within her heart, and that she is prepared,  
In spite of her just mourning to proffer  
The glorious possessor of a throne  
Before the sad in habitant of a tomb.  
And, possibly, wearied with her affliction,  
She would be forced to embrace your love.  Duke. 
To take her hence, and force her unto marriage,  
Are the last means which I will try; before  
I use towards her the least violence,  
I'll see her.  jacinta. 
Sir, she comes there.  Duke. 
How she studies,  
And how her slow uncertain paces speak  
The violent troubles of her spirit, her paleness  
Depaints her grief.  Climene. 
Leave me alone, and pass  
Into that alley.   

SCENA SECUNDA,  Climéné, Jacinta, The Duke. jacinta. 
Madame,—  Climene. 
Once again  
I say I will be private for a minute;  
Retire, and leave me to myself.  jacinta. 
But if  
The Duke.—  Climene. 
Be gone, and speak no more of him,  
His name is odious to me.  Duke. 
How unfortunate  
Am I?  jacinta. 
I told you, sweetness would do nothing  
Upon that stubborn spirit.  Duke. 
I will follow  
Thy counsel, let us speedily go forth.  
My presence would increase her cruelty.  jacinta. 
For fear you should be seen, be pleased to stay  
Till she goes in; till when I cannot hand sonelie  
Draw you from hence; in the mean time your Highness  
May in those shady walks divert your sadness.   

SCENA TERTIA.  Climene alone. Stanzas. 
THou which they say canst with facility  
Act what inclndes impossibility,  
Blind Guide, false Child which canst have no pretence  
At all unto the state of innocence,  
Tyrant of hearts, Love, which hast boasted still  
That Death submitts unto thy power and will.  
Make her to know that the muades thy right  
In robbing my Fabritio of the light  
And cause him to return again, or give  
Me passport the Shades where he doth live.  
The sweetest objects that now strike mine eyes,  
Increase the number of my miseries,  
The Sun tells me Fabritio's but a shade,  
The Lilies at his loss look black and fade,  
Those Rose, Queen of the flowers, seems to be  
Stained with my Lover's blood, and neepes with me.  
Dear Lover, thou sad object of my cries,  
Whose image still dwells in my heart and eyes,  
Reproach me not that I live yet to mourn,  
After thy ashes sleep in their cold urn,  
Death without doubt are now had joined me  
To thy sad shadow, if I could agree  
That thou shouldst die within my heart, oh no  
I cannot leave th'y adored Image go.  
Thy cruel Rival when he murdered thee  
In his conceit, mistake, and murdered me:  
His fury was deceived, not satis fied,  
In cutting of thy days, Climene died,  
The Duke betrayed his vows, for I expire  
In thy cold ashes, Thou livst in my sire.  Climene. 
What's that I say, Thou livest in my fire,  
Thy living Image is carved in my soul;  
But those immortal characters, alas!  
Which flatter me, are dead Fabritios'.  
 and rigorous fate, was't reasonable,  
That death should seize him so near marriage?  
But why dispute I in such great misfortunes?  
I'll suffer my sad sighs, forbidden my tears,  
And to enuenome my affliction,  
I'll cease complaint, nourish my sorrow, and  
By prudent cares for fear to weaken it,  
I'll strengthen it within, I'll signalise  
My griefs by silence better than by speech.  
When one hath lost all who complains, receaves  
A kind of comfort, therefore I'll forbear;  
Yes, my dear Lover, to deplore thy death  
In stronger terms than plaints and exclamations  
But what! I hear a fearful noise beneath me?  a noise under the Stage. 
It seemeth that to join me to Fabritio  
A sudden thunder doth prepare itself  
To come forth from the centre of the earth:  
The noise redoubleth, and renewed strokes  
Makes me believe that underneath my feet  
They dig graves, I perceive the flowers to fall  
The plants to be unrooted, the most settled  
And firmest oaks to tremble; it is time  
To fly hence, but I cannot, fear forbids me;  
Heaven! the disorder grows, and the earth cleaves  
Fabritio comes forth thence, my strength fails here,  
And I am almost dead with fear and weakness.   

SCENA QVARTA.  FABRITIO CLIMENE. Fabritio coming out the Mine. Fabritio. 
THanks unto Carlos, and in spite of destiny,  
I hope to see Climene in this garden  
But to conceal the means on't I must cover  
Most carefully the opening of the Mine:  
Those stones, and those green boughs will make the hole  
Invisible, I need but seek the ingrateful,  
Before I vent my anger; 'll'le reproach her  
With my passed services, with her inconstancy,  
And her false oaths; for fear my death should give her,  
Some satisfaction, and to th'end t'afflict her,  
I will appear unto her, and protest  
That I will live yet to abhor her; yonder  
I see that fair Inconstant; but alas!  
I see her pale, cold, and in dying posture;  
At this sad object which confoundeth me,  
A tender pity doth succeed my passion;  
And if this pity caused by her misfortune,  
Is not yet love, 'tis something, sure, that's near it,  
Climene thou fair object of the flame  
which riseth up again, when almost dead,  
Cast yet a languishing look upon Fabritio;  
For all thy anger and inconstancy,  
I never sought any revenge 'gainst thee;  
Return, and if thou wilt not that I live,  
At least with one sweet look honour my death:  
I hear some coming, I must hid myself.  
If I should go into the Mine again,  
There's danger I might be surprised.   

SCENA QUINTA.  The Duke, Climene. Duke. 
I have heard strokes which troubled me much  
The noise came from this side, let us advance  
I see Climene, who fleepes; but alas,  
Unparalleled misfortune! she is dead,  
And underneath a thick veil, her fair eyes  
Are shut up never to be opened:  
Tyrannic destiny, by what law is it  
That such a rare and exquisite beauty hath  
So tragical a fate, and that the Star  
Of my nativity, which hath produced  
My sires, sindes in its morn eternal night?  
But I am in an errout; Master piece  
Of all perfection, fate is innocent,  
And I alone am guilty, 'tis this arm,  
This batharous arm that hath ta'en hence my Mistress  
In murdering my Rival.  Climene. 
Oh, alas!  Duke. 
She breathes, she breathes, and openeth her eyes  
Love, be propitious to me.  Climene 
Is it thee,  
My dear Fabritio, Fantasme of my sonle,  
Sweet Shadow of my Lover? what wilt thou?  Duke. 
Her grief distracts her judgement.  Climene. 
Comest thou to reproach me suddenly,  
That thou hadst lived, if thou hadst not seen me,  
And that the fire sometime so fair, which kindled  
Our hearts with mutual love, served but to light thee  
To descend to the grave?  Duke. 
You are mistaken,  
Adoreable Climene.  Climene. 
Tell me then  
The cause that brings thee, Comest thou to solissit  
My heart and arm a while yet to defer  
My death, unto the end to revenge thine!  
Will thou that this hand plunged in the Duke's blood  
Make my destruction just, and thine revenged  
Speak speak; he shall not long be in condition  
To triumph in thy death, in the midst of  
His Court, and in the eyes of all Ferrara,  
I'll pierce the bosom of that barbarous Prince.  Duke. 
My heart fears but the stroales of your fair eyes,  
Know me, and recollect your wandering senses  
The excess of your sorrow wrongs you much.  Climene. 
Whom do I see?  Duke. 
A Prince that loveth you.  Climene. 
What fatal accident, what cruel destiny  
Presenteth me, in stead of my Lover,  
His murderer, Sir, you must pardon me  
This language, as a person highly injured:  
I can no more respect you: is it possible,  
You are not fully satisfied yet  
In barbarously depriving me of him,  
I loved more than myself, but you must come  
To rob me of his Shadow?  Duke. 
This vain shadow  
You speak of, is but an illusion  
Formed by your fear and your affliction;  
And when I've dissipated from your fancy  
This fatal image, you will find that I  
Have more advauntaged, then injured you.  
For dead Fabritio, please you to remember,  
That 'twas your interest made me punish him;  
The insolent discourse which he held forth,  
Carried me justly to that violence:  
If I had spared him, I had injured you,  
And if I had done less, I had less loved.  Climene. 
Brahis account then I'm indebted to you  
For giving, me the greatest of misfortunes,  
In killing even before mine eyes the object  
Which I adore, without whom the fair light  
Is odious to me; you are much deceived  
In your pretensions, you have gained nothing  
In ruining a Rival, and the art  
Which you use to asperse his reputation,  
Can't hinder him to live with in my soul:  
Though this death which I feel lively with in me  
Had not expressed so much hate and contempt  
As you show love and tenderness, I should  
Have loved him so much as I hate you.  Duke. 
I condemn not your just transports, but bear them,  
He was your Lover, though he was my Rival;  
And I repent my rage in that I wronged  
Your charming Image, printed in his soul:  
I know that Rival, which was odious to me,  
Pleased your fair eyes more than I, his merit  
Was that which only rendered him guilty:  
I hated him for being too amiable;  
But in that hate, I fully did express  
My love to you in offering you a heart,  
And with that heart a crown. But I offend you,  
Your looks speak your disdain. not to provoke you,  
I leave you, and hope yet, that you will one day  
Have less aversion for me.  Climene. 
Time can never  
Cure my disease, death only is its term.   

SCENA SEXTA.  Jacinta, Fabritio, Climene. Fabritio. 
I will approach, I see the Duke retire,  
My trouble is passed; and Climene lives;  
But, heaven: who cometh here again to cross me,  jacinta to Climene. jacinta. 
The Funeral is coming.  Climene. 
What, Fabritio's?  Fabritio. 
It is jacinta, I need not for her  
Keep a loof of.— aside.  jacinta. 
Yes Madam, you may see  
The coffin which encloseth your dead Lover  
From your Balcony at this very instant:  
His Father, who intends to celebrate  
His mourning, honoureth Fabritios' death  
With funeral pomp, and whilst they carry him  
Unto the Temple, you may, if you please,  
See that unfortunate body pass.  Climene. 
I will so,  
It is my last desire,  Fabritio, discovering himself. Fabritio. 
Enjoy it, Madam,  
Behold here the unfortunate Fabritio.  jacinta 
Heaven! where shall I fly safely from this Fantasme.  
I dare not stay.— jacinta flies away.  Climene. 
What! will jacinta leave me?  jacinta. 
I have no other Mistress now but fear.  Fabritin holding Climene. Fabritio. 
False and ingrateful Beauty, do you fly me!  
This makes your lightness. To appear too much:  
If any justice yet reigns in your soul,  
After you have betrayed me, give me leave  
To complain my misfortune.  Climene. 
I betray you?  
What do I hear, Heavens! how astonished am I  
At this so strange event? if I may here  
Believe mine eyes, it is the living portrait  
Of my Fabritio, but if I believe  
His voice, it is but a deceitful Fantasme  
Of such a sa'tfull Lover:  Fabritio. 
I am that very Lover, who against  
Your will could not, in losing all his hope,  
Lose his life too ● yes, I live yet, Ingrateful,  
And fear I live for you still in despite  
Of my just anger, I know not what power  
Opposeth it in steed of murmuring,  
I sigh, and all the heat that rests with me  
Resembles anger less than love.  Climene. 
Now I  
Begin again to know Fabritio;  
His heart in spite of him doth secretly  
Render me justice; and when the false mouth  
Condemns me, it seems resolute in thought  
That I am faithful.  Fabritio. 
Faithful? oh it is  
Unto the Duke that this speech is addressed  
He only is to hope for all your love.  Climen. 
Canst thou impute those base thoughts unto me?  Fabritio. 
They are truths, if I may believe your oaths;  
I should doubt yet of this extreem misfortune,  
If I had understood it from the mouth  
Of any other but yourself.  Climene. 
An evil  
When it is known, is easy to be cured;  
I know thy error, cease to be abused;  
If the last fatal evening I expressed  
Find words unto the Duke, I did believe  
That I discoursed to thee, and so upon  
That faith all that I said to him, was wholly  
Intended unto thee●, thy only Image,  
Which can possess my heart, my memory,  
And all my senses with so much renown,  
Was only guilty in that fatal moment,  
If but a little blindness may be said  
To be a crime in Love.  Fabritio. 
Unto a Lover,  
Whose soul resigns itself unto suspicions,  
Any excuse is good enough, and passeth,  
A lie that pleaseth deceives pleasantly,  
And every thing is easily believed,  
Which is desired; though all thy reasons were  
As false as fair, so sweet it would be to me  
To see my scares to end, and in my fancy  
To flatter the affliction which thou  
Mightst cause me, that thou wouldst oblige me strongly  
To make 〈◊〉 yield to be abused.  Climene. 
Let thy heart be  
Free from those Low suspicions; if thou wilt  
Absent thee, I am ready here to follow thee;  
I'll manesest unto thee every where  
The clecrenes of my faith, be it to live,  
Or die with thee, let Heaven bless, or deceive  
Our expectations, I'll live satisfied,  
Or die content.  Fabritio. 
What own I—  Climene. 
Thou ow'st nothing;  
Nothing of thanks, in following thy desires,  
I follow my own sentiments; but how  
Were't thou secured?  Fabritio. 
Fortune did favour me,  
A stranger passing that night perished  
Instead of me, and this Mine gives me means  
From Carlos house to enter into thine.  Climene. 
Thou mayst a while here entertain thy thoughts  
In the mean I'll go to fetch my lewells:  
Pass underneath this arbour, I believe  
I hear a noise; assoon as it is night,  
I'll come to thee again.   

SCENA SEPTIMA.  Jacinta, Fabritio. Fabritio. 
IF I am not deceived, here comes jacinta,  
Climene trusts her with her nearest secrets:  
Fortune, it seems, to day in overie point  
Will be sweet to me, if I can oblige her  
To go away with us.  jacinta. 
Scarce freed yet  
From my first fear, I tremblinglie return  
Unto Climenes' house: Fabritio  
Was murdered through my means, and without doubt  
He cometh to revenge himself upon me  
From th' other world: my ruin were inevitable  
If I should meet that fearful Ghost again.  Fabritio. 
Stay.—  jacinta. 
'tis the Spirit, good God, I die with fear!  
Oh Genrle Fantasme, have compassion of me;  
I do confess my fault, and promise faithfully  
Ne'er to betray you, nor my Mistress more.  Fabritio. 
Strange! but I must know more. Disguise me nothing,  
If thou dost—  jacinta. 
Touch me not then, I beseech you,  
And I will tell you all: 'tis true, I always  
Endeavoured to hurt you, that I studied  
To serve the Duke in his amours against you,  
And that indeed I was cause of your death.  Fabritio. 
Pernstious spirit.—  jacinta 
Enter not into fury,  
This is not all yet, lend your ear, I pray you,  
I had forgot to tell you that the Duke.  
By my advice this day hath fixed upon  
Climenes' rape, and that this very evening  
He will attempt this unjust enterprise,  Fabritio. 
Horrid perfidiousness!  jacinta. 
I have told all my faults, now may it please you  
That I leave you in peace: for know that nothing  
Is so unpleasant to me as discourse  
With people of another World. If you  
Were not dead, you would be so good unto me,  
To grant me pardon upon my repentance.  Fabritio. 
It would not suit well with a generous spirit  
To punish a weak woman. Go.—  jacinta. 
Monsieur Fantasme,  
God will receive your soul.— Exit jacinta.  Fabritio. 
The Duke this night  
Intends, it seems, to take away Climene,  
Heaven, must my hope be yet again destroyed?  
But my heart leaves itself to be assaulted  
With a vain sear, seeing I am beloved,  
What should I doubt; nothing is strong enough  
To disunite two hearts which love hath joined,  
This God doth miracles for those that be  
His saithful Votaries, and such are we.  
The End of the third Act.    

ACTUS QVARTUS.  

SCENA PRIMA.  Fabritio, alone. 
Behold the hour, wherein I hope to see  
The Beauty which my soul loves and adores:  
The sun already having run his course,  
Darteth no more here but a feeble light:  
With his last rays he now adorns the West  
He sets with glory, shines when he is lost  
And the fair remnants of his dying brightness  
Maketh his fall and loss illustrious,  
Pardon, thou glorious Stat, whose splendour hurts me,  
If my hope comes, when thy light vanisheth:  
Ingenious Love, to hurt me more, assembles  
That mass of Instre which so charmeth me  
In fair Climenes' eyes, and presently  
Her looks will give me brightness which surpasseth  
That which thou takest from me: But she stays,  
Heaven. she neglects me, she appeareth not:  
The Moon is well advanced: and all my hope  
Dies with the day; this long delay denotes  
A'fault of love: I hear one walk, and if  
My eyes are faithful witnesses, I see  
This miracle of Fair ones come at last.   

SCENA SECUNDA.  Climene, Fabritio. Climene. 
FAbritie—  Fabritio. 
Hear, fair subject of my flame.  
Here's he, who is as saithful as he's happle.  Climene. 
I did not think to have been so long absent.  
I fear that I have put thee to some trouble.  Fabritio. 
Believe, indeed, that to Fabritio  
The least remove of thy fair eyes is grievous,  
I did expect thee sooner, and to speak  
The truth resolved to complain unto thee,  
Upon this point; but to forget it choir,  
It is sufficient that I see thee now;  
I have no power to complain before thee,  
The present pleasure flattering my thought,  
Takes wholly from me the remembrance  
Of my passed trouble.  Climene. 
Since love forceth thee  
Not to accuse me, the same passion  
Obligeth me too to excuse myself.  
It was not the care of these Diamonds  
Where with I'm loaden, which caused my stay,  
It only was the care to take a time  
Proper for our departure.  Fabritio. 
Let's refer  
The prosecution of this discourse  
Unto another time, and think we now  
To finish our designs, and t'haste our slight;  
I fear the strokes yet of injurious chance,  
She should be trusted least, when she smiles most.  Climene 
Let's haste, I willingly consent unto it,  
I fear lest that torch should discover thee,  
Oh hid thee!  Fabritio. 
I will die rather than hid me;  
An outrage is intended to thy person.  
I must prevent it, being advertised  
That the Duke's ready by a barbarous order  
To carry thee away by violence.   

SCENA TERTIA.  The Duke, Valerio, Climene, Fabritio, Guards. Valerio. 
SHe must be here  Duke. 
I'll draw a side a little,  
But so, that I'll hear all: Go, speak from me.  Fabritio. 
What suffer thee to be ta'en hence by force,  
And in my presence?  Climene. 
No, if any Violence  
Be offered, step forth unto my aid,  
In the mean time hid thee, and make me not  
To fear for any but myself; Valerio,  
What seek you here at such an hour as this?  Valerio. 
I could not wish to meet a better object  
Then your fair self, a coach near hand attends you,  
I must conduct you there, having for it  
An express order.  Climene 
How! from whom have you  
This order?  Valerio. 
Madame, from the Duke my Master,  
Whom every one is bound here to acknowledge  
For Sovereign.  Climene. 
Let him be ne'er so Sovereign,  
Yet he must know that the free soul of Climene  
Is not within his power my heart depends  
Upon another, and say what he will,  
That is no lawful subject to his Empire.  Valerio. 
Madam, I'm sorry— but I must obey,  Climene. 
What ' thinketh he to make himself beloved.  
As one makes himself hated ' Losing liberty?  
Believeth he that I should be so simple  
To take so many marks of hatred for  
Effects of love? what from his enmity  
Might I not fear, if when he loveth me,  
He seeks to persecute me?  Valerio. 
I am forced  
as much as you are, but it is in vain  
For you to give yourself o'er to complaints,  
Fellow me quickly where I go.—  Duke. 
Stay, stay;  
Her beauty will not suffer any outrage  
To be done to her person, in my presence,  
Or rather I have too much passion  
To suffer that she should be injured.  
'tis true that troubled much, and desperate  
At your contempt I was prepared to take you  
Away by force, I did expect the issue,  
And will confess, Madam, that in my soul  
Love vanquished respect; but presently  
At your first words love vanquished at its turn,  
Yielded unto respect: cease, cease to fear,  
Thou charming wonder, the heat of that love  
some what too violent: should your heart be  
Hard as a rock, I only would employ  
Respect to touch it, there's more passion in me  
Then hate in you: in all the places where  
I reign, you shall be Sovereign, and I shall  
Esteem me happy, not to give you laws,  
But to take them of you.  Climene. 
I should give thanks  
Unto the Duke for such a declaration  
If I could flatter here Fabritios' enemy.  Duke. 
Although his loss hath reason to oblige me,  
Since it afflicts you, it afflicteth me;  
But there runs a report upon this point  
Which terrifies me, 'tis that to your eyes  
His Fantasme doth appear.  Climene. 
There's nothing false  
In this report, Fabritio since his death  
Appeared before mine eyes.  Duke. 
To dissipate  
Obnoxious fears which might cause evil visions  
Within your fancy, some of my attendance  
Shall presently have order not to leave you,  Climene. 
Oh! Sir, this is not it which I demand.  Duke. 
'tis the least duty I must render you:  
Suffer them for to guard you.  Climene. 
Sir, it needs not.  Duke. 
Your quietness concerns me, and I must  
Take care of it.  Climene. 
So fare you would be from obliging me  
By this design, that you would hurt me rather;  
Of this care therefore I dispense your Highness.  Duke. 
To condescend to your desires herein,  
Were to betray you, the sad vision  
Of a dead person doth increase your griefs.  
Permit—  Climene. 
No, Sir, command them not to follow;  
The vision doth please me, and I fear  
To be deprived of its company.  Duke. 
This Spirit will always distract your reason,  
As long as you stay in the house alone.  Climene. 
If but to change house will give you content,  
I'll satisfy you, Carlos is my neighbour,  
I will retire to him.  Duke. 
If you six there,  
I contradict it not, his mother is  
A very prudent Woman, and her counsels  
Will be a great help to your timourous spirits,  
Permit me to conduct you to her house.  Climene. 
This prayer is a command, Sir.  
I cannot  
Refuse to follow, him, especially  
Seeing Fabritio likewise hath design  
To go there.  Softly. Fabritio. 
What discourse i'th'name of wonder  
Might she have all this while there; but good God  
The Duke draws her away, I'll secure her.  Duke. 
This Fantasm's nothing else but the effect  
Of a sad thought, the senses are all hurt,  
When the soul's troubled.  Fabritio. 
I'll put out the light.  Duke. 
Lastly l' promise you that there's no Fantasme,  
Nor ever was; but what is that I see?  
O prodigy! o Heaven! how am I troubled?  Fabritio. 
It is Fabritio, who is come to take  
Climene from you.  Climene. 
O Fabritio,  
Unto what danger comes thou to expose thee?  — aside. Fabritio. 
Climene, save thyself, or leave me perish.  Climene. 
My life's in danger, when thou hazardest  
Thyself. I do withdraw now, follow me.  Duke. 
Advance, Guards, I'll be cleared in this point,  
Leave me not, I command ye.  Fabritio. 
She is gone.  
I'll follow her.  Valerio. 
Sir doubt not on't, it is  
Fabrotio's shadow.  Duke. 
No matter, I'll be satisfied therein.   

SCENA QUARTA.  Carlos, Valerio, the Duke, attendance. Carlos coming out of the Mine. Carlos. 
I'll go to aid my friend, this noise doth make me  
To judge that his life runs some danger here.  Valerio. 
It is impossible to take a Fantasme;  
Yet he is taken, and it is a sensible,  
And solid body.  Duke. 
Traitor, and the greatest  
Of all my enemies.  Carlos. 
Oh Sir! what fault  
Hath Carlos committed? never had you  
A subject yet more faithful.  Duke. 
What is that?  
'tis Carlos, strange! this is a new surprise:  
Hear all my arguments are vain. Come you,  
Carlos, to take Climene from my hands?  Carlos. 
I, Sir? by no means; the noise which I heard  
Drew me unto this place to know the cause on't.  Duke. 
Who came into this garden then to stop me?  Carlos. 
It was Vabritios' shadow, can you doubt out?  
We can give you a certain testimony  
Thereof, as knowing well his voice and visage.  Duke. 
I observed them myself very distinctly.  Carlos. 
Assure ye, Sir, it was Fabritios' shadow.  Duke. 
I'm strangely troubled at this prodigy;  
Climene was persuaded by my reasons  
To quit this house, and I was bringing her  
Unto thine, when that spirit came and parted us,  
So that we have lost each other in the dark.  Carlos. 
This success, Sir, strikes me with terror too.  Duke. 
Carlos, we must find out this charming Beauty,  
And for her safety bring her home to thee:  
Seek thou of than side, the rest follow.  Carlos. 
Oh heaven! we are undone, the plots discovered:  
If the Duke find Fabritio, his ruin  
Is certain, but if in spite of the night  
I'm not abused, I see a woman coming  
Towards me.   

SCENA QUINTA.  Carlos, Climene. Climene. 
FAbritio, is it thee?  Carlos. 
No.  Climene. 
Oh, my grief!  Carlos. 
Although it be not he, at least it is  
His second self, 'tis Carlos.—  Climene. 
Oh! dear Sir,  
How miserable am I?  Carlos. 
I know, Madame,  
All your misfortune, having understood it.  
From the Duke's mouth, who very much in passion,  
Seeketh you with no ordinary care.  Climene. 
Fabritio's here about, if he should be  
Vnfortunatelie sound, it were impossible  
To save him afterward; Sir, if you love him,  
Divert his danger, overtake the Duke;  
To draw him hence, tell him that I am ready  
To come forth of this fatal place, and that  
I've promised to stay here till you come,  
To go with you unto your house.  Carlos. 
I fly;  
In the mean time, find, if you can your Lover,  
And tell him what hath happened, above all  
fail not to be here presently, yourself.  Climene. 
Fortune; I fear is not propitious  
Enough unto me, to permit me now  
To find Fabritio, with too much heat  
Her anger doth pursue me, to consent  
That I shall have this happiness, notwithstanding  
I hear a noise, perhaps Love   
To my chaste flames, guideth my Lover here:  
But what, they are two women; they have seen me,  
Or I am much deceived, I must be gone  
To seek Fabritio, and to shun their presence.  Exit Climene.  

SCENA SEXTA  jacinta, Isabel. jacinta. 
IT is my Mistress, Madam, approach boldly,  
And give me leave to go immediately  
Into the house, my conduct, and my cares  
Are here superfluous.  Isabel. 
Stay, she goes away,  
And I see her no more, come, let us follow.  jacinta. 
Good God if I should meet the spirit again  
Which I foe dread?  Isabel. 
Thou knowest all these turn,  
And thou canst guide me; Go before.  janinta. 
Who, I? defend me, God, from such a rudeness,  
I know my duty well, though a gross Girl,  
Madam, you are to go first, I'm to wait you  
Oh if the spirit should come to punish me  
For my late treason!— softly  Isabel. 
But thou tremblest.  jacinta. 
Alas! there's reason for it.  Isabel. 
Stav here then,  
I'll follow her without thee, ho, Climene!  jacinta. 
She leaveth me alone, oh, I am lost!  
Madame, where run you?  Isabel. 
Do not stay my steps.  jacinta. 
Should you be ne'er so angry, by your favour,  
You shall not follow her.  Isabel. 
Thy importunity  
Is really, extreme, why dost thou stop me?  jacinta. 
Because I love you, you would be in danger,  
Should you go on, your safeties dear unto me,  
And I'll take care on't.  Isabel. 
Leave me.  jacinta. 
No, I must not:  
I'll tell you a strange thing a fearful Spirit  
Haunteth those places,  Isabella 
Is't a waggish Spirit?  
Hobgoblin, or a Robin, Good follow?  jacinta. 
No, he's not pleasant, rather on the contrary,  
It is an evil, and a mischievous spirit.  Isabel. 
Who told it thee?  jacinta. 
Mine eyes, which did not lie.  
And Is wear to you that I've twenty times  
Seen it in several figures, sometimes like  
A man, and sometimes like a ravenors beast,  
And still at every bout mischievoullie  
Ready to break my neck.  Isabel. 
Climene then  
Is not in safety here.  jacinta. 
I know not that;  
But I believe there is a league between them  
They agree very well: But see the spirit  
In form now of a Giant; Heaven protect me.   

SCENA SEPTIMA.  Fabritio, jacinta, Isabel. Fabritio. 
IT is jacinta, and Climene is  
Without. doubt with het.  jacinta. 
It approacheth to us,  
Oh let us fly, 'tis death to meet with it.  Isabel. 
It stopps at me, o Heaven, what fear have I?  Fabritio. 
Climene, stay, and hear me, I'm Fabritio.  Isabel. 
It is my brother, strange surprise! I will  
Speak soft and counterfeit my voice to find  
What his design is,— aside.  Fabritio. 
The injurious Duke,  
From whom my cares would take thee, see keth thee  
Without doubt at this instant, let us lose  
No time to shun his violence, but haste we  
To Carlos house: besides, I fear my sister,  
For she at home this evening said unto me,  
That she would come to visit thee: if she  
Should see me, presently my Father, who  
Thinks me already fare of from this place,  
Will understand the contrary. This is not  
To detract from my Sister, she is good.  
And very innocent, but her fault is  
She cannot hold her peace.  Isabel. 
Continue, Brother,  
I'm much obliged unto you, pray, proceed.  Fabritio. 
Misfortune! 'tis my Sister Isabel.  Isabel. 
Pursue, good Brother.  Fabritio. 
'Las! I've said too much,  
Excuse the fears and weakness of a Lover?  
If thy heart felt such seizures thou shouldst know  
That the God, who is Precedent of love,  
Is but a timourous child, and trembles always:  Isabel 
I do confess, that I am ignorant  
In maxims of this nature, and indeed  
Too innocent to understand them well:  
Concerning your abode, which I have learned  
With some regrett, for being known to me  
'tis not less secret: I will make appear  
By silence and discretion, that I am  
A better Sister to you than you are a  
Brother to me.  Fabritio. 
Oh! Sister, what sweet sentiments have you?  
How shall I merit them?  Isabel. 
I hear some body,  
Brother, let us withdraw.  Fabritio. 
I'll take your counsel; go forth of this dwelling  
To Carlos house, I'll follow you immediately.   

SCENA OCTAVA.  The Duke, Carlos, Isabel, attendance. Carlos. 
YOu see Climene stays here, as I said,  Duke. 
Conduct her! 'tis enough, In satisfied,  
And will go forth content.  Carlos. 
Madame, 'tis Carlos,  
Fellow me without fear, speak soft—  Isabel 
'tis Carlos,  
I'll follow him without constraint.— aside.  Duke. 
Guards, wait upon Climene for this night,  
My eyes must be deprived of the happiness  
To see her, my love urgeth me in vain  
To follow her, defer we till to morron  
To render her a visit, the good which  
I expect thence would be too dear bought  
If it should cost a trouble to Climene.  
Depart we, and let's flatter us with hope  
That we through perseverance shall overcome,  
And that there is no heart so hard by charm,  
Which those fires in my bosom cannot warm.   

SCENA NONA.  Climene, Fabritio, The Duke. Climene. 
FAbritio.  Fabritio. 
My Climene.  Duke. 
Heaven! what hear I?  
My judgement is confounded here; Climene  
Is gone with Carlos, yet some secret charm  
Which I can't comprehend, holdeth her here  
In conference with the shadow of the dead.  Climene. 
Every one is retired we are alone,  
The Duke is also gone out of the garden:  
Let's finish the design we have in hand,  
Let's press it on, and fly we without fear  
That Tyrant's love, for whom I've so much horror  Duke. 
In what a hideous gulf of black despair  
Am I plunged by this prodigy? is't a truth,  
Or is't a dream?  Fabritio. 
Haste we, but I'm afraid  
That in the dark we shall not find the Mine.  Climene. 
No matter we khan go out of the garden  
Another way, the key of the back door  
Which I have here about me privately,  
Will give us passage forth to Carlos house,  
Where 'gainst the light returns, I will be ready  
T'embrace thy fortune, and to follow thee,  
Go where thou wilt.  Fabritio. 
By what expressions.—  Climene, 
'tis enough, make me no reply, but follow,  
We jose time,  Duke. 
There's no doubt of it, 'tis certain,  
Fabritio either dead of living steal  
Away Climene; ha'! I cannot suffer,  
This outrage in my sight: come, I'm resolved  
To lose myself, or rescue her; O Heavens!  The Duke running to succour Climene, falls into the Mine. 
The End of the fourth Act.    

ACTUS QVINTUS.  

SCENA PRIMA.  Carlos, Isabel. In a hall of Carlos house. Carlos. 
WHom see I here? misfot tune! oh unlucky  
Encounter! but, perhaps, I am deceived,  
Is it you, Isabel?  Isabel. 
Strange? What hear I?  
Is't possible that Carlos should not know me?  
Are all my features suddenly defaced?  
No, they remain yet, only I have cause  
To think ahat they are razed out of thy memory  Carlos. 
Oh, Madam, this suspicion is unjust,  
I will upon this point tell you the truth  
With all sinceritic.  Isabel. 
Pray, What sincerity  
Can one expect from you?  Carlos. 
Condemn me not  
Before you hear me: I had a design  
Which prospered not, my intent was to bring  
Another woman here, and I confess  
That I am sorry now to see you Madam.  
In her place, your fair presence is indeed  
A trouble at this time. But—  Isabel. 
It sufficeth,  
Ingrateful, thy crime is acknowledged,  
And more sincerely than I could have thought  Carlos. 
Suffer me to express myself.  Isabel. 
It needs not,  
What explication can be more clear?  Carlos. 
Hear what remains.  Isabel. 
No, I will hear no more,  
All thy disguisements are superfluous.  Carlos. 
But know—  Isabel. 
What should I know more? hast thou not  
Told me that thy soul's fleeting, thou intende'st  
To bring another Woman here, thou wilt  
That I believe it, and I do believe it.  Carlos. 
I have not.—  Isabel. 
True, thou hast not any thing  
For me but coldness, and presumption;  
To see me in her place, thou sayest, thou'rt sorry,  
And with an unjust passion thy self spirit  
Carried away, goes from inconstancy  
To incivility.  Carlos. 
Give me leave to speak.  Isabel. 
What canst thou say unto me?  
That thou acknowledgest the Empire of  
A Worthier object, that in vain thy heart  
Hath stood against her charms, and that to gain thee  
I have too little beauty?  Carlos. 
Oh deceive not  
Yourself with so much art, and I beseech you  
Be less unjust to my poor heart that loves you.  Isabel. 
In losing such a heart as thine, I shall  
Lose little, it is faithless, base, and treacherous,  
And I pretend not any thing unto it;  
Adieu.  Carlos 
What without hearing me, oh stay,  
I do beseech you, stay.  Isabel. 
My presence here  
Doth trouble you.  Carlos. 
It is a real truth.  Isabel. 
A real truth,  
Ingrateful?  Carlos. 
You shall not go forth before  
 heard me, suffer me upon this point  
T'ex press my thought.  Isabel. 
I should again be troubled  
With thy discourse.  Carlos. 
What I shall say unto you  
Can easily be verified.  Isabel. 
No, no,  
I forbidden thee to justify thyself.  Carlos. 
For the last time yet give me leave to say,  
That it is you alone whom I adore,  
That I am wholly yours.  Isabel. 
Well, let me see then,  
If I have any power yet in thy soul.  Carlos 
Madame, command, you shall be satisfied.  Isabel. 
Say nothing more than to excuse thyself,  
And leave me to departed. this I command,  
Obey me in this point.  Carlos. 
For such a perfect Lover as I am,  
It is a crime t'obey too readily.  Isabel 
No, no, I have some power upon thy spirit,  
Show thy respect by thy obedience,  Carlos. 
Love by respect is very ill expressed,  
Who can obey well, knoweth not to love,  
This favourable council, cruel Beauty,  
Was given to Carlos.  Isabel. 
Yes to Carlos faithful,  
But this fatal advice, whereof thou dost  
Presume so much, was never given unto  
Carlos inconstant,  Carlos. 
Madame, what's my crime?  Isabel. 
Ingrateful, I will tell it thee, 'tis true  
I had for thee something about my heart  
That savoured of tenderness and that  
I know not what began to differ little  
From the toy called Love; at last I was  
Tainted with that disease, when for my punishment  
I knew my love produeed but thy hate;  
True, thou feelest it not more, now that thou seest  
That I am touched; I become trouble some  
To him that's dear to me; now that my flame  
Appears, thine is consumed, and beginning  
To love, I cease to be beloved. Beloved?  
what have I said '? I learn by the effects,  
That thou feignest always, and didst never love me  
What canst thou answer to excuse thyself.  
So just a reproach cannot but confound thee;  
Thou strivest not more to justify thyself,  
Thy silence speaks thee guilty and confounded.  Carlos. 
This trouble which appeareth in my countenance  
Proceeds from your injustice, not my crime.  Isabel. 
What have I said here which thou canst deny?  
Defend thyself.  Carlos. 
You have forbidden me  
To justify myself. I fear you would be  
Offended still with my discourse.  Isabel. 
No, no  
Speak, Carlos, now my anger's vanished;  
Although thou shouldst be false, and prove inconstant.  
In such a high degree as to betray me,  
I might complain thereof, but could not hate thee  
And whatsoever change thy heart should make.  
I should excuse thee if thou didst desire it.  Carlos. 
Upon your fair hands for this sweet expression,  
Let me imprint my joy, and my resentment.  He kisseth her hand.  

SCENA SECUNDA.  Alphonso, Isabel, Carloo. Alphonso. 
WHat do I see?  Carlos. 
But Madam, your suspicions  
Injute my love extremely.  Isabel. 
My suspicions  
Give Carlos intimation that I love him.  Alphonso. 
You love him?  Isabel. 
Heaven! what hear I?  Carlos. 
O hard Fortune!  Isabel. 
I must dispose myself to die, he'll kill me— aside  
Father.  Alphonso. 
Unworthy object of my anger  
In stly provoked, I'm thy enemy,  
Call me no more thy Father: how! presum'st thou  
T'offend me in foe high degree as thus  
Against the rules of reason and of honour  
To come to Carlos at his house by night,  
And in despising the Religious Cloister  
Whereto I've destined thee, to give thyself  
Over to base amours?  Isabel. 
I do beseech you,  
Hear me, grant me that savour, will you, Sir  
Refuse me?  Alphonso. 
Yes, every thing except death.  Carlos. 
Hear equitic oppressed by my mouth,  
If her flame be a crime, I m guilty only;  
Yes if it be a fault, deign to remember,  
That I am the cause on't, and whom you ought  
Only to punish, be more just without  
Being more gentle, save the innocent.  
And destroy the offender.  Isabel. 
No, against me  
bend all your fury, if it be a crime  
To love, it is a virtue to be loved:  
The tenderness which I resent for Carlos  
Denotes his merit, and sets forth my weakness:  
And if my passion be worthy death,  
Carlos is free, and I alone am guilty.  Alphonso. 
Perfidious, thou shalt die then.  Carlos 
Oh, abandon  
That thought.  Alphonso. 
Then Carlos with my honour take  
Away my life, that is the only way  
To make her crime safe; nothing but my death  
Can stop her punishment.  Carlos. 
Fear nothing from me,  
I have respect for you, and since I could not  
Appease your anger. I oppose no further  
But rather press you now that Isabel  
May perish  Isabel 
How? do you press my destruction?  
Oh now's the fatal moment, wherein I  
Have just cause to complain of destiniie  
My heart is pierced with grief to see you here  
With such injustice to become my judge,  
And not my complice. I was well resolved,  
Carlos, to die, and quarrelled not with fate,  
So long as I thought to expire for thee;  
But I believed not in this adventure  
That Love aswell as Nature would betray me,  
And that I should at last go to the grave  
Thus by a Father's stroke, and Lovers sentence.  Carlos. 
Madame, I've said but what I should have said:  
Once more I do repeat it, since your daughter  
Must die, Sir, and I cannot hinder it,  
Content yourself to strike, but pray mistake not  
The bosom, here direct your strokes, 'tis here  
That Isabella's lodged, here she is Mistress,  
Hear she is criminal, here you must assault her  
To punish her, and in piercing my heart,  
You cannot miss her.  Isabel. 
Oh, believe him not;  
Turn your arms here.  Alphonso aside. Alphonso. 
Ready to shed my blood,  
I feel my tears flow, and my choler's cold:  
I only by a sudden strange effect  
Am vanquished in the fight, let us feign yet,  
Carlos, your cunning for a little time  
Retards her Punishment, but fatisfy me  
Upon a thing that brought me here, and wick  
Doth trouble me extremely tell me truly,  
Is my Son here, or no; if he be here,  
His death is but too certain.  Carlos. 
I assure you,  
He is not here, Sir.  Alphonso. 
Since you do assure me,  
I will not doubt it.   

SCENA TERTIA.  Fabritio, Alphonso, Climene, Carlos, Isabel. Fabritio. 
WE are free at last  
From the Duke's hands.  Alphonso. 
O Heaven! is't possible?  
Fabritio yet present him to mine eyes?  
I gave, Sir, too much credit to your words.— to Carlos,  Carlos. 
He was not here, Sir, when I said them to you,  Alphonso. 
Thou blinded Son, through what ingratitude  
Buildest thou thy pleasures upon my disquiet?  
What hath made thee despise a Father's Will,  
whom thou knowst cherisheth thy life so much  
And why in violating all the rights  
Of nature, dost thou make so small account  
Of the light which thou owest me? Ingrateful?  Fabritio. 
The care, Sir, of my safety troubleeh you  
Too much, I do not hate the light, but love is  
Less than Climene.  Alphonso. 
I commanded thee  
To quit this residence.  Fabritio. 
But I received  
Another order.  Alphonso. 
How! from whom?  Fabritio. 
From Love.  Alphonso. 
Love makes no laws but for those that will take 'em;  
And reason now forbiddeth thee to embrace it  Fabritio. 
Oh reason, Sir, had left me, and I was  
Too much enchained, to departed.  Alphonso. 
Canst thou  
Stay without shame, after an infidelity?  Fabritio. 
Climene is as constant as she's fair:  
My spirit was struck with an injust suspicion,  
I'm disabused, and she's ready here  
To follow me.  Alphonso. 
To follow thee?  Climene. 
Yes Sir,  
To follow him, I have engaged myself;  
Though his condition be changed, I am not.  Alphonso. 
I always doubted till this very moment.  
Whether a woman could love constantly;  
But if your love hath any reason with it,  
Haste you to go out of his fatal country.  Fabritio. 
There's nothing that shall stop my steps to morrow  
Sir, I swear to you.—  Carlos. 
Friend, thou shalt not swear.  Fabritio. 
If you believe it not, I do assure you,  
You are in an extreme error; who can stay us?  Carlos. 
Pehaps, It may be I.  Fabritio. 
You?  Carlos. 
Yes, I will  
Tell you a sad adventure, which should be  
Equally grievous to us both; Climene  
Is by a fatal chance committed to  
My guard, and I'm responsible for her.  
I've the Duke's order for it, and to add  
To the misfortune, I thought to have taken  
Climene, and I took your sister for her.  Isabel. 
What! this was then the cause which troubled you  
So much but now?  Carlos. 
You have but little reason  
To doubt of it; but understand my trouble  
In this extremity, if Climene flies,  
I shall be forced to expose Isabel  
Instead of her to the Duke's passions:  
I love her, and 'tis now no longer time  
To disguise my thoughts to you, judge, I pray you,  
If in this danger I ought to expose her.  Fabritio. 
How great is our misfortune?  Alphonso. 
Not so great  
As it appears unto you; to be free  
Of all scare, get ye gone all four together.  
The Duke will be reduced afterward  
To be appeased.  Carlos. 
This is a most sure way;  
But whence proceeds this noise?   

SCENA QUARTA.  Celin, Alphonso, Carlos, Fabritio, Climeno, Isabel, Celin to Carlos. Colin. 
Sir, divers men  
Armed with halberds desire speech with you.  Carlos. 
'tis the Duke and his Guards, sure, their design  
Surpriseth me.  Alphonso. 
I have lost all my hope.  
Carlos, assuredly my son's discovered.  Carlos 
We will be presently cleared on that point.  
Without light let Fabritio stay here,  
And if he doubts that they are come to seek him  
Behind this false wall he may hid himself:  He shows them a wall which is turned upon a pivot of Iron. 
See, how it turns; before his death my Father  
Fearing the malice of his enemies,  
Caused it to be made in secret for him,  
And I know that there is no wit so subtle,  
That can find out Fabritio in this place.  Alphonso. 
To save thy life, do this, Son, I conjure thee;  Climene. 
And I Climene pray thee.  Fabritio. 
I obey  
As son, and I obey no less as Lover.  Carlos. 
Let's cease discourse, and go forth presently.  Exeunt all but Fabritio. Fabritio alone. Fabritio. 
Heaven! must I always be distracted thus  
Twixt fear and hope, and must so just a love  
Have such a rigid fortune? the Duke loves,  
Or abhors her, and I know that there's reason  
To fear all things from him that hopeth nothing;  
And that? 'bove all things it is dangerous  
To be competitor with his Prince, and Rival  
Unto his Master. But what● hear I not  
Some person walk, at if he would come to me?   

SCENA QUINTA.  The Duke, Fabritio. The Duke alone. Duke. 
I've passed through a straight way, now I enter  
Into a greater, yet am still in doubt,  
My hope's confounded, and my spirits dark,  
Which should light me in these obscurities?  
Am I'mongst mortals? am I in some cave?  
Am I upon the earth, or in is centre?  
Murdered Fabritio offereth himself  
To my remembrance, would Heaven punish me  
For his unjust death? but I hear a noise,  
Who's there?  Fabritio. 
Fabritio.  Duke. 
Fabritio!  
Appears his Fantasme here then for my punishment,  
And am I sunk down into Hell alive  
To suffer for the evils I've made him suffer?  Fabritio. 
I hear the Duke's voice, which I know full well.  
Is it you then, Sir Duke?  Duke. 
The art not deceived.  
I am the author of thy death, I will not  
Say any thing unto thee for to save  
My life, thou canst without crime take it from him  
Who hath ta'en thine from thee, all the fear which  
Resteth unto me in this sad misfortune,  
Proceedeth from my crime, not from my death;  
And if now any grief oppresseth me,  
'tis not to die, but to die culpable.  Fabritio aside. Fabritio. 
He thinks me still dead, I will profit by  
This error.— aside.  
Duke, you have just cause to fear  
My fury, your fate now is in my power,  
Nothing can stop the course of my revenge;  
I can now sacrifice your blood to mine;  
But, Sat, you are my Prince, and I le not do it;  
Injustice I abhor, and notwithstanding  
My anger, I would rather suffer it  
Then execute it.  Duke. 
The mote thy respect  
Appears for me, the more unjust's thy death  
And the more black my crime; by this, my fault  
Becomes doubly condemnable, the less  
Sevete thou art in punishing me, the more  
I'm worthy punishment. But if thy shadow  
Pretendeth to respect me, what obligeth thee  
To persecute me thus in every place?  
How comes it that thou dost confer upon me  
Imperfect favouts? why dost thou pursue me?  
What is't thou dost desire?  Fabritio. 
Since you ordain it  
I'll speak it then; know, Sir, that this your trouble  
Shall never see an end before you cease,  
To love Climene.  Duke. 
Cease to love Climene?  
Oh! that's too much presumption, I may cease  
To live, but not to love her, to obtain  
Thy wishes, thou shouldst ask a possible thing;  
But I should have abused thee if I had  
Flattered thy hope that I would cease to love  
That charming Beauty.  Fabritio. 
To love in this manner  
Is to love like a tyrant.  Duke. 
Well, I know  
That I love like a tyrant, but no matter:  
Know also that. Love who gives Law to me,  
Is yet a blinder tyrant fare then I:  
To force me to love this ingrateful Mistress,  
He hath to much strength, and I so much weakness  
Only the hope that I can give thee is,  
Never to see her more, yet still to love her.  Fabritio. 
He that can lose the object, can lose also  
The flame, the heart holds not what the eye is  
Deprived of, Love from our will hath his power;  
To cease to love, there needs but the desire:  
To put out all your flames, quench all your hope,  
And yield Climene to my constancy.  Duke. 
But if I should do so, what's thy design?  Fabritio. 
To marry her.  Duke. 
To marry her? what! art thou  
Not dead then?  Fabritio. 
What have I said?  Duke. 
Thou shouldst be  
O'th' number of the living for this works;  
Who cherisheth a body, must not be  
A shadow. Speak, and believe that thy death  
Hath cost me tears.  Fabritio. 
He feigneth for to know me,  
And to destroy me afterward.— aside.  Duke. 
He answereth not a word; Let's seek about.  
But lest he should go forth, 'tis requisite  
To keep this port: to know too where I am,  
'tis best to make a noise; hola! who's there?  
Some one come to me.  Fabritio. 
Heaven! whereto am I  
Reduced? but let me, ere they bring a light  
Advance to wards the wall, and hid myself  
Behind it.  Duke. 
I'll be cleared in this doubt,  
Hear comes a light.   

SCENA SEXTA.  The Duke, Carlos, Alphonso, Valerio, Climene, Isabel, Guards. Climene. 
Do we not see the Duke?  Duke. 
See I again my Mistress?  Valerio. 
Oh! we sought  
Your Highness every where.  Duke. 
Is this enchantment?  
Where am I?  Carlos. 
In my house.  Duke. 
But where is he?  Alphonso. 
Who, Sir?  Duke. 
Your Son.  Alphonso. 
My Son.  
Your Highness is abused.  Duke. 
I've speaken with him;  
Use no deceit towards me.  Alphonso. 
Those are visions.  Duke. 
They are truths, but he can't come forth, seek carefully  
On every side.  Alphonso speaking to Carlos. 
Oh Carlos how I fear!  Carlos addressing himself to Alphonso. Carlos. 
I say, be not afraid.  Valerio. 
Sir, I've seen nothing.  Duke. 
Heaven! what new prodigy is this? judge all  
If I have reason to believe myself  
Enchanted: I went forth the garden, thinking  
To see before mine eyes Fabritios' Ghost,  
When suddenly I fell into a precipice;  
And passing through places which I know not,  
Arrived here, where to increase the horror  
Of my sad soul, his shadow once again  
Appeared before me, spoke long time unto me,  
And used persuasions to make me cease  
To love Climene, and to yield her to him.  
This discourse gave me much incertainty  
Of his condition; I doubted if  
He was dead; but surprised and amazed  
By this success, I need no more to doubt it.  
Would that it plase Heaven he were alive,  
I should be free then of that sad remorse  
Which wounds my conscience, I would do him justice,  
And banishing my fires, would satisfy  
Myself in rendering him happy.  Alphonso. 
Sir,  
It is an easy generosity  
To lament, an oppressed enemy  
That is no longer to be feared, you think  
My son dead, and on that account, bewail him,  
But if he were alive indeed, you would  
Be less humane.  Duke. 
I would not break my word.  
By Heaven, by fair Climene, by all nature,  
I swear to you Alphonso, that if now  
Fabritio yet alive should by a miracle.  
Appear before mine eyes, so fare would I  
Be from opposing still his just desires  
That I would willing lie resign unto him.  
That Beauty so beloved and Cherished.   

SCENA SEPTIMA.  Fabritio, The Duke, Alphonso, Carlos, Climeno, Isabel, Valorio, Guards. Fabritio coming forth from behind the false wall. Fabritio. 
Behold me living then, most generous Prince,  
Feep your word and your oath, and make me happy.  Duke. 
Is this a Fantasme? Heaven!  Alphonso. 
Shake of your fear.  
It is Fabritio living, and his death  
Is but a feigned thing.  Fabritio. 
Sir, at your feet  
I humbly do expect the blessed effect  
Of what you promised.  Duke. 
I'll keep my word,  
Climene's yours.  Alphonso. 
Sir, favour my poor family  
In every point, gius Carlos too in marriage  
Unto my daughter, and approve with me  
Their innocent desires,  Carlos. 
I humble crave  
That favour from your Highness'  Duke. 
I consent to't;  
Carlos, enjoy your wish, although I am  
Deceived by your artifice; but losing  
My Mistress, I lose my injustice too:  
In not betraying me, you did betray  
My glory, who commands ill, should be ill  
Obeyed ', unjust designs may justly be  
Destroyed: Come follow me, and whilst your joys  
Are making ready, rell me by what Art  
The Amorous Fantasme played his subtle part.  
The End of the fifth and last Act.     

EPILOGUE to the Court.  
LEt me Star gaze a while, and calculate  
Those Heavens, to know our fortune, or our fate  
Before I dare to speak; I cannot see  
One cloud appear that should discourage me;  
'tis a good omen: Fair Queen of this night,  
Not Cynthia, but a Goddess far more bright,  
To you I kneel. From him, whose glory is  
To offer you a pleasing Sacrifice,  
I mean th' ambitious Poet I am come,  
Humbly to beg a favourable doom  
Upon his Fantasme, who although he be  
At the full point of his felicity  
A perfect body now, yet if you frown  
Upon his action, and so cry him down,  
No more a feigned Fantasme to be made,  
He dies indeed, and flies into a shade.  
FINIS.