Char. Is he yet married?
Cont. No, signior, still a bachelor; howe'er
It is apparent that the choicest virgin
For beauty, bravery, and wealth, in Florence,
Would, with her parents' glad consent, be won,
Were his affection and intent but known
To be at his devotion.
Char. So I think too.
But break we off—here comes my princely charge.
Enter Giovanni and Calandrino.
Make your approaches boldly; you will find
A courteous entertainment.
[Cont. kneels.
Giov. Pray you, forbear
My hand, good signior; 'tis a ceremony
Not due to me. 'Tis fit we should embrace
With mutual arms.
Cont. It is a favour, sir,
I grieve to be denied.
Giov. You shall o'ercome:
But 'tis your pleasure, not my pride, that grants it.
Nay, pray you, guardian, and good sir, put on:
How ill it shows to have that reverend head
Uncover'd to a boy!
Char. Your excellence
Must give me liberty to observe the distance
And duty that I owe you.
Giov. Owe me duty!
I do profess (and when I do deny it,
Good fortune leave me!) you have been to me
A second father, and may justly challenge,
For training up my youth in arts and arms,
As much respect and service as was due
To him that gave me life. And did you know, sir,
Or will believe from me, how many sleeps
Good Charomonte hath broken, in his care
To build me up a man, you must confess
Chiron, the tutor to the great Achilles,
Compared with him, deserves not to be named.
And if my gracious uncle, the great duke,
Still holds me worthy his consideration,
Or finds in me aught worthy to be loved,
That little rivulet flow'd from this spring;
And so from me report him.
Cont. Fame already
Hath fill'd his highness' ears with the true story
Of what you are, and how much better'd by him;
And 'tis his purpose to reward the travail
Of this grave sir with a magnificent hand:
For though his tenderness hardly could consent
To have you one hour absent from his sight,
For full three years he did deny himself
The pleasure he took in you, that you, here,
From this great master, might arrive unto
The theory of those high mysteries
Which you, by action, must make plain in court.
'Tis, therefore, his request, (and that, from him,
Your excellence must grant a strict command,)
That instantly (it being not five hours' riding)
You should take horse and visit him. These his letters
Will yield you further reasons. [Delivers a packet.
Cal. To the court!
Farewell the flower, then, of the country's garland.
This is our sun, and when he's set we must not
Expect or spring or summer, but resolve
For a perpetual winter.
Char. Pray you, observe
[Giovanni reading the letters.
The frequent changes in his face.
Cont. As if
His much unwillingness to leave your house
Contended with his duty.
Char. Now he appears
Collected and resolved.
Giov. It is the duke!
The duke, upon whose favour all my hopes
And fortunes do depend; nor must I check
At his commands for any private motives
That do invite my stay here, though they are
Almost not to be master'd. My obedience,
In my departing suddenly, shall confirm
I am his highness' creature; yet I hope
A little stay to take a solemn farewell
Of all those ravishing pleasures I have tasted
In this my sweet retirement, from my guardian
And his incomparable daughter, cannot meet
An ill construction.
Cont. I will answer that:
Use your own will.
Giov. I would speak to you, sir,
In such a phrase as might express the thanks
My heart would gladly pay; but——
Char. I conceive you:
And something I would say; but I must do it
In that dumb rhetoric which you make use of;
For I do wish you all——I know not how,
My toughness melts, and, spite of my discretion,
I must turn woman.
[Embraces Giovanni.
Cont. What a sympathy
There is between them!
Cal. Were I on the rack,
I could not shed a tear. But I am mad,
And, ten to one, shall hang myself for sorrow
Before I shift my shirt. But hear you, sir,
(I'll separate you), when you are gone, what will
Become of me?
Giov. Why, thou shalt to court with me.
[Takes Char. aside.
Cal. To see you worried?
Cont. Worried, Calandrino!
Cal. Yes, sir: for, bring this sweet face to the court,
There will be such a longing 'mong the madams,
Who shall engross it first, nay, fight and scratch for 't,
That, if they be not stopp'd——So much for him.
There's something else that troubles me.
Cont. What's that?
Cal. Why, how to behave myself in court, and tightly.
I have been told the very place transforms men,
And that not one of a thousand, that before
Lived honestly in the country on plain salads,
But bring him thither, mark me that, and feed him
But a month or two with custards and court cake-bread,
And he turns knave immediately.—I'd be honest;
But I must follow the fashion, or die a beggar.
Giov. And, if I ever reach my hopes, believe it,
We will share fortunes.
Char. This acknowledgment
Enter Lidia.
Binds me your debtor ever.—Here comes one
In whose sad looks you easily may read
What her heart suffers, in that she is forced
To take her last leave of you.
Cont. As I live,
A beauty without parallel!
Lid. Must you go, then,
So suddenly?
Giov. There's no evasion, Lidia,
To gain the least delay, though I would buy it
At any rate. Greatness, with private men
Esteem'd a blessing, is to me a curse;
And we, whom, for our high births, they conclude
The only freemen, are the only slaves.
Happy the golden mean! Had I been born
In a poor sordid cottage, not nursed up
With expectation to command a court,
I might, like such of your condition, sweetest,
Have ta'en a safe and middle course, and not,
As I am now, against my choice, compell'd
Or to lie groveling on the earth, or raised
So high upon the pinnacles of state,
That I must either keep my height with danger,
Or fall with certain ruin.
Lid. Your own goodness
Will be your faithful guard.
Giov. O, Lidia!——
Cont. So passionate[62]! [Aside.
Giov. For, had I been your equal,
I might have seen and liked with mine own eyes,
And not, as now, with others'; I might still,
And without observation or envy,
As I have done, continued my delights
With you, that are alone, in my esteem,
The abstract of society: we might walk
In solitary groves, or in choice gardens;
From the variety of curious flowers
Contemplate nature's workmanship and wonders:
And then, for change, near to the murmur of
Some bubbling fountain, I might hear you sing,
And, from the well-tuned accents of your tongue,
In my imagination conceive
With what melodious harmony a quire
Of angels sing above their Maker's praises:
And then with chaste discourse, as we return'd,
Imp[63] feathers to the broken wings of time:—
And all this I must part from.
Cont. You forget
The haste imposed upon us.
Giov. One word more,
And then I come. And after this, when, with
Continued innocence of love and service,
I had grown ripe for hymeneal joys,
Embracing you, but with a lawful flame,
I might have been your husband.
Lid. Sir, I was,
And ever am, your servant; but it was,
And 'tis, far from me in a thought to cherish
Such saucy hopes. If I had been the heir
Of all the globes and sceptres mankind bows to,
At my best you had deserved me; as I am,
Howe'er unworthy, in my virgin zeal
I wish you, as a partner of your bed,
A princess equal to you; such a one
That may make it the study of her life,
With all the obedience of a wife, to please you.
May you have happy issue, and I live
To be their humblest handmaid!
Giov. I am dumb,
And can make no reply.
Cont. Your excellence
Will be benighted.
Giov. This kiss, bathed in tears,
May learn you what I should say.
Lid. Give me leave
To wait on you to your horse.
Char. And me to bring you
To the one half of your journey.
Giov. Your love puts
Your age to too much trouble.
Char. I grow young,
When most I serve you.
Cont. Sir, the duke shall thank you. [Exeunt.
Florence. A Room in the Palace.
Enter Alphonso, Hippolito, and Hieronimo.
Alph. His highness cannot take it ill.
Hip. However,
We with our duties shall express our care
For the safety of his dukedom.
Hier. And our loves
Enter Cozimo.
To his person.—Here he comes: present it boldly.
[They kneel: Alphonso tenders a paper.
Coz. What needs this form? We are not grown so proud
As to disdain familiar conference
With such as are to counsel and direct us.
This kind of adoration show'd not well
In the old Roman emperors, who, forgetting
That they were flesh and blood, would be styled gods:
In us to suffer it were worse. Pray you, rise.
[Reads.
Still the old suit! With too much curiousness
You have too often search'd this wound, which yields
Security and rest, not trouble, to me.
For here you grieve that my firm resolution
Continues me a widower; and that
My want of issue to succeed me in
My government, when I am dead, may breed
Distraction in the state, and make the name
And family of the Medici, now admired,
Contemptible.
Hip. And with strong reasons, sir.
Alph. For were you old, and past hope to beget
The model of yourself, we should be silent.
Hier. But being in your height and pride of years,
As you are now, great sir; and having, too,
In your possession the daughter of
The deceased Duke of Urbin, and his heir,
Whose guardian you are made; were you but pleased
To think her worthy of you, besides children,
The dukedom she brings with her for a dower
Will yield a large increase of strength and power
To those fair territories which already
Acknowledge you their absolute lord.
Coz. You press us
With solid arguments, we grant; and, though
We stand not bound to yield account to any
Why we do this or that, (the full consent
Of our subjects being included in our will,)
We, out of our free bounties, will deliver
The motives that divert[64] us. You well know
That, three years since, to our much grief, we lost
Our duchess; such a duchess, that the world,
In her whole course of life[65], yields not a lady
That can with imitation deserve
To be her second; in her grave we buried
All thoughts of woman: let this satisfy
For any second marriage. Now, whereas
You name the heir of Urbin, as a princess
Of great revenues, 'tis confess'd she is so:
But for some causes, private to ourself,
We have disposed her otherwise. Yet despair not;
For you, ere long, with joy shall understand,
That in our princely care we have provided
One worthy to succeed us.
Enter Sanazarro.
Hip. We submit,
And hold the counsels of great Cozimo
Oraculous.
Coz. My Sanazarro!—Nay,
Forbear all ceremony. You look sprightly, friend,
And promise in your clear aspect some novel
That may delight us.
Sanaz. O sir, I would not be
The harbinger of aught that might distaste you;
And therefore know (for 'twere a sin to torture
Your highness' expectation) your vice-admiral,
By my directions, hath surprised the galleys
Appointed to transport the Asian tribute
Of the great Turk. A richer prize was never
Brought into Florence.
Coz. Still my nightingale,
That with sweet accents dost assure me that
My spring of happiness comes fast upon me!
Embrace me boldly. I pronounce that wretch
An enemy to brave and thriving action,
That dares believe but in a thought, we are
Too prodigal in our favours to this man,
Whose merits, though with him we should divide
Our dukedom, still continue us his debtor.
Hip. 'Tis far from me.
Coz. Nay, blush not, Sanazarro; we are proud
Of what we build up in thee; nor can our
Election be disparaged, since we have not
Received into our bosom and our grace
A glorious[66] lazy drone, grown fat with feeding
On others' toil, but an industrious bee,
That crops the sweet flowers of our enemies,
And every happy evening returns
Loaden with wax and honey to our hive.
Sanaz. My best endeavours never can discharge
The service I should pay.
Coz. Thou art too modest;
But we will study how to give, and when,
Enter Giovanni and Contarino.
Before it be demanded.——Giovanni!
My nephew! let me eye thee better, boy.
In thee, methinks, my sister lives again;
For her love I will be a father to thee,
For thou art my adopted son.
Giov. Your servant,
And humblest subject.
Coz. Thy hard travel, nephew,
Requires soft rest, and therefore we forbear,
For the present, an account how thou hast spent
Thy absent hours. See, signiors, see, our care,
Without a second bed, provides you of
A hopeful prince. Carry him to his lodgings,
And, for his further honour, Sanazarro,
With the rest, do you attend him.
Giov. All true pleasures
Circle your highness!
Sanaz. As the rising sun,
We do receive you.
Giov. May this never set,
But shine upon you ever!
[Exeunt Giovanni, Sanazarro, Hieronimo, Alphonso, and Hippolito.
Coz. Contarino!
Cont. My gracious lord.
Coz. What entertainment found you
From Carolo de Charomonte?
Cont. Free,
And bountiful. He's ever like himself,
Noble and hospitable.
Coz. But did my nephew
Depart thence willingly?
Cont. He obey'd your summons
As did become him. Yet it was apparent,
But that he durst not cross your will, he would
Have sojourn'd longer there, he ever finding
Variety of sweetest entertainment.
But there was something else; nor can I blame
His youth, though with some trouble he took leave
Of such a sweet companion.
Coz. Who was it?
Cont. The daughter, sir, of signior Carolo,
Fair Lidia, a virgin, at all parts,
But in her birth and fortunes, equal to him.
The rarest beauties Italy can make boast of
Are but mere shadows to her, she the substance
Of all perfection. And what increases
The wonder, sir, her body's matchless form
Is better'd by the pureness of her soul.
Such sweet discourse, such ravishing behaviour,
Such charming language, such enchanting manners,
With a simplicity that shames all courtship[67],
Flow hourly from her, that I do believe
Had Circe or Calypso her sweet graces,
Wandering Ulysses never had remember'd
Penelope, or Ithaca.
Coz. Be not rapt so.
Cont. Your excellence would be so, had you seen her.
Coz. Take up, take up[68].—But did your observation
Note any passage of affection
Between her and my nephew?
Cont. How it should
Be otherwise between them, is beyond
My best imagination. Cupid's arrows
Were useless there; for of necessity,
Their years and dispositions do accord so,
They must wound one another.
Coz. Umph! Thou art
My secretary, Contarino, and more skill'd
In politic designs of state, than in
Thy judgment of a beauty; give me leave,
In this, to doubt it.—Here. Go to my cabinet,
You shall find there letters newly received,
Touching the state of Urbin.
Pray you, with care peruse them: leave the search
Of this to us.
Cont. I do obey in all things. [Exit.
Coz. Lidia! a diamond so long conceal'd,
And never worn in court! of such sweet feature!
And he on whom I fix my dukedom's hopes
Made captive to it! Umph! 'tis somewhat strange.
Our eyes are every where, and we will make
A strict inquiry.—Sanazarro!
Re-enter Sanazarro.
Sanaz. Sir.
Coz. Is my nephew at his rest?
Sanaz. I saw him in bed, sir.
Coz. 'Tis well; and does the princess Fiorinda,
Nay, do not blush, she is rich Urbin's heir,
Continue constant in her favours to you?
Sanaz. Dread sir, she may dispense them as she pleases;
But I look up to her as on a princess
I dare not be ambitious of, and hope
Her prodigal graces shall not render me
Offender to your highness.
Coz. Not a scruple.
He whom I favour, as I do my friend,
May take all lawful graces that become him:
But touching this hereafter. I have now
(And though perhaps it may appear a trifle)
Serious employment for thee.
Sanaz. I stand ready
For any act you please.
Coz. I know it, friend.
Have you ne'er heard of Lidia, the daughter
Of Carolo Charomonte?
Sanaz. Him I know, sir,
For a noble gentleman, and my worthy friend;
But never heard of her.
Coz. She is deliver'd,
And feelingly to us, by Contarino,
For a masterpiece in nature. I would have you
Ride suddenly thither to behold this wonder,
But not as sent by us; that's our first caution:
The second is, and carefully observe it,
That, though you are a bachelor, and endow'd with
All those perfections that may take a virgin,
On forfeit of our favour do not tempt her:
It may be her fair graces do concern us.
Pretend what business you think fit, to gain
Access unto her father's house, and, there,
Make full discovery of her, and return me
A true relation:—I have some ends in it,
With which we will acquaint you.
Sanaz. This is, sir,
An easy task.
Coz. Yet one that must exact
Your secrecy and diligence. Let not
Your stay be long.
Sanaz. It shall not, sir.
Coz. Farewell,
And be, as you would keep our favour, careful.
[Exeunt.
The same. A Room in Fiorinda's House.
Enter Fiorinda and Calaminta.
Fior. How does this dressing show?
Calam. 'Tis of itself
Curious and rare; but, borrowing ornament,
As it does from your grace, that deigns to wear it,
Incomparable.
Calam. I cannot,
Your excellence is above it.
Fior. Were we less perfect,
Yet, being as we are, an absolute princess,
We of necessity must be chaste, wise, fair,
By our prerogative!—yet all these fail
To move where I would have them. How received
Count Sanazarro the rich scarf I sent him
For his last visit?
Calam. With much reverence,
I dare not say affection. He express'd
More ceremony in his humble thanks,
Than feeling of the favour; and appear'd
Wilfully ignorant, in my opinion,
Of what it did invite him to.
Fior. No matter;
He's blind with too much light[69]. Have you not heard
Of any private mistress he's engaged to?
Calam. Not any; and this does amaze me, madam,
That he, a soldier, should in his manners
Be so averse to women.
Fior. Troth, I know not.
Calam. I do suspect him; for I learnt last night,
When the great duke went to rest, attended by
One private follower, he took horse; but whither
He's rid, or to what end, I cannot guess at,
But I will find it out.
Fior. Do, faithful servant;
Enter Calandrino.
We would not be abused.—Who have we here?
Calam. How the fool stares!
Fior. And looks as if he were
Conning his neck-verse.
Cal. If I now prove perfect
In my A B C of courtship, Calandrino
Is made for ever. I am sent—let me see,
On a How d'ye, as they call 't.
Calam. What wouldst thou say?
Cal. Let me see my notes. These are her lodgings; well.
Calam. Art thou an ass?
Cal. Peace! thou art a court wagtail,
[Looking on his instructions.
To interrupt me.
Fior. He has given it you.
Cal. And then say to the illustrious Fi-o-rin-da—
I have it. Which is she?
Calam. Why this; fop-doodle.
Cal. Leave chattering, bull-finch; you would put me out,
But 'twill not do.—Then, after you have made
Your three obeisances to her, kneel, and kiss
The skirt of her gown.—I am glad it is no worse.
Calam. This is sport unlook'd for.
Cal. Are you the princess?
Fior. Yes, sir.
Cal. Then stand fair,
For I am choleric; and do not nip
A hopeful blossom. Out again:—Three low
Obeisances—
Fior. I am ready.
Cal. I come on, then.
Cal. Umph! One, two, three.
[Makes antic courtesies.
Thus far I am right. Now for the last. [Kisses the skirt of her gown.]—O, rare!
She is perfumed all over! Sure great women,
Instead of little dogs, are privileged
To carry musk-cats.
Fior. Now the ceremony
Is pass'd, what is the substance?
Cal. I'll peruse
My instructions, and then tell you.—Her skirt kiss'd,
Inform her highness that your lord——
Calam. Who's that?
Cal. Prince Giovanni, who entreats your grace,
That he, with your good favour, may have leave
To present his service to you. I think I have nick'd it
For a courtier of the first form.
Fior. To my wonder.
Enter Giovanni and a Gentleman.
Return unto the prince—but he prevents
My answer. Calaminta, take him off;
And, for the neat delivery of his message,
Give him ten ducats: such rare parts as yours
Are to be cherish'd.
Cal. We will share: I know
It is the custom of the court, when ten
Are promised, five is fair. Fie! fie! the princess
Shall never know it, so you despatch me quickly,
And bid me not come to-morrow.
Calam. Very good, sir.
[Exeunt Calandrino and Calaminta.
Giov. Pray you, friend,
Inform the duke I am putting into act
What he commanded.
Gent. I am proud to be employ'd, sir. [Exit.
Giov. Madam, that, without warrant, I presume
To trench upon your privacies, may argue
Rudeness of manners; but the free access
Your princely courtesy vouchsafes to all
That come to pay their services, gives me hope
To find a gracious pardon.
Fior. If you please, not
To make that an offence in your construction,
Which I receive as a large favour from you,
There needs not this apology.
Giov. You continue,
As you were ever, the greatest mistress of
Fair entertainment.
Fior. You are, sir, the master;
And in the country have learnt to outdo
All that in court is practised. But why should we
Talk at such distance? You are welcome, sir.
We have been more familiar, and since
You will impose the province (you should govern)
Of boldness on me, give me leave to say
You are too punctual. Sit, sir, and discourse
As we were used.
Giov. Your excellence knows so well
How to command, that I can never err
When I obey you.
Fior. Nay, no more of this.
You shall o'ercome; no more, I pray you, sir.—
And what delights, pray you be liberal
In your relation, hath the country life
Afforded you?
Giov. All pleasures, gracious madam,
But the happiness to converse with your sweet virtues.
I had a grave instructor, and my hours
Design'd to serious studies yielded me
Pleasure with profit, in the knowledge of
What before I was ignorant in; the signior,
Carolo de Charomonte, being skilful
To guide me through the labyrinth of wild passions,
That labour'd to imprison my free soul
A slave to vicious sloth.
Fior. You speak him well.
Giov. But short of his deserts. Then for the time
Of recreation, I was allow'd
(Against the form follow'd by jealous parents
In Italy) full liberty to partake
His daughter's sweet society. She's a virgin
Happy in all endowments which a poet
Could fancy in his mistress; being herself
A school of goodness, where chaste maids may learn,
Without the aids of foreign principles,
By the example of her life and pureness,
To be as she is, excellent. I but give you
A brief epitome of her virtues, which,
Dilated on at large, and to their merit,
Would make an ample story.
Fior. Your whole age,
So spent with such a father, and a daughter,
Could not be tedious to you.
Giov. True, great princess:
And now, since you have pleased to grant the hearing
Of my time's expense in the country, give me leave
To entreat the favour to be made acquainted
What service, or what objects in the court,
Have, in your excellency's acceptance, proved
Most gracious to you.
Fior. I'll meet your demand,
And make a plain discovery. The duke's care
For my estate and person holds the first
And choicest place: then, the respect the courtiers
Pay gladly to me, not to be contemn'd.
But that which raised in me the most delight,
(For I am a friend to valour,) was to hear
The noble actions truly reported
Of the brave count Sanazarro. I profess,
When it hath been, and fervently, deliver'd,
How boldly, in the horror of a fight,
Cover'd with fire and smoke, and, as if nature
Had lent him wings, like lightning he hath fallen
Upon the Turkish galleys, I have heard it
With a kind of pleasure, which hath whisper'd to me,
This worthy must be cherish'd.
Giov. 'Twas a bounty
You never can repent.
Fior. I glory in it.
And when he did return, (but still with conquest,)
His armour off, not young Antinous
Appear'd more courtly; all the graces that
Render a man's society dear to ladies,
Like pages waiting on him; and it does
Work strangely on me.
Giov. To divert your thoughts,
Though they are fix'd upon a noble subject,
I am a suitor to you.
Fior. You will ask,
I do presume, what I may grant, and then
It must not be denied.
Giov. It is a favour
For which I hope your excellence will thank me.
Fior. Nay, without circumstance.
Giov. That you would please
To take occasion to move the duke,
That you, with his allowance, may command
This matchless virgin, Lidia, (of whom
I cannot speak too much,) to wait upon you.
She's such a one, upon the forfeit of
Your good opinion of me, that will not
Be a blemish to your train.
Fior. 'Tis rank! he loves her:
But I will fit him with a suit. [Aside.]—I pause not,
As if it bred or doubt or scruple in me
To do what you desire, for I'll effect it,
And make use of a fair and fit occasion;
Yet, in return, I ask a boon of you,
And hope to find you, in your grant to me,
As I have been to you.
Giov. Command me, madam.
Fior. 'Tis near allied to yours. That you would be
A suitor to the duke, not to expose,
After so many trials of his faith,
The noble Sanazarro to all dangers,
As if he were a wall to stand the fury
Of a perpetual battery: but now
To grant him, after his long labours, rest
And liberty to live in court; his arms
And his victorious sword and shield hung up
For monuments.
Giov. Umph!—I'll embrace, fair princess,
Enter Cozimo.
The soonest opportunity. The duke!
Coz. Nay, blush not; we smile on your privacy,
And come not to disturb you. You are equals,
And, without prejudice to either's honours,
May make a mutual change of love and courtship,
Till you are made one, and with holy rites,
And we give suffrage to it.
Giov. You are gracious.
Coz. To ourself in this: but now break off; too much
Taken at once of the most curious viands,
Dulls the sharp edge of appetite. We are now
For other sports, in which our pleasure is
That you should keep us company.
Fior. We attend you. [Exeunt.
The Country. A Hall in Charomonte's House.
Enter Bernardo, Caponi, and Petruchio.
Bern. Is my lord stirring?
Cap. No; he's fast.
Pet. Let us take, then,
Our morning draught. Such as eat store of beef,
Mutton, and capons, may preserve their healths
With that thin composition call'd small beer,
As, 'tis said, they do in England. But Italians,
That think when they have supp'd upon an olive,
A root, or bunch of raisins, 'tis a feast,
Must kill those crudities rising from cold herbs,
With hot and lusty wines.
Cap. A happiness
Those tramontanes[70] ne'er tasted.
Bern. Have they not
Store of wine there?
Cap. Yes, and drink more in two hours
Than the Dutchmen or the Dane in four and twenty.
Pet. But what is 't? French trash, made of rotten grapes,
And dregs and lees of Spain, with Welsh metheglin,
A drench to kill a horse! But this pure nectar,
Being proper to our climate, is too fine
To brook the roughness of the sea: the spirit
Of this begets in us quick apprehensions,
And active executions; whereas their
Gross feeding makes their understanding like it:
They can fight, and that's their all.
[They drink.
Enter Sanazarro and Servani.
Sanaz. Security
Dwells about this house, I think; the gate's wide open,
And not a servant stirring. See the horses
Set up, and clothed.
Serv. I shall, sir. [Exit.
Sanaz. I'll make bold
To press a little further.
Bern. Who is this,
Count Sanazarro?
Pet. Yes, I know him. Quickly
Remove the flagon.
Sanaz. A good day to you, friends.
Nay, do not conceal your physic; I approve it,
And, if you please, will be a patient with you.
Pet. My noble lord. [Drinks.
Sanaz. A health to yours. [Drinks.] Well done!
I see you love yourselves, and I commend you;
'Tis the best wisdom.
Pet. May it please your honour
To walk a turn in the gallery, I'll acquaint
My lord with your being here.
[Exit.
Sanaz. Tell him I come
For a visit only. 'Tis a handsome pile this.
[Exit.
Cap. Why here is a brave fellow, and a right one;
Nor wealth nor greatness makes him proud.
Bern. There are
Too few of them; for most of our new courtiers,
(Whose fathers were familiar with the prices
Of oil and corn, with when and where to vent them,
And left their heirs rich, from their knowledge that way,)
Like gourds shot up in a night, disdain to speak
But to cloth of tissue.
Enter Charomonte in a nightgown, Petruchio following.
Char. Stand you prating, knaves,
When such a guest is under my roof! See all
The rooms perfumed. This is the man that carries
The sway and swing of the court; and I had rather
Preserve him mine with honest offices, than——
But I'll make no comparisons. Bid my daughter
Trim herself up to the height. Which way went he?
Cap. To the round gallery.
Char. I will entertain him
As fits his worth and quality, but no further.
[Exeunt.
A Gallery in the same.
Enter Sanazarro.
Sanaz. I cannot apprehend, yet I have argued
All ways I can imagine, for what reasons
The great duke does employ me hither; and,
What does increase the miracle, I must render
A strict and true account, at my return,
Of Lidia, this lord's daughter, and describe
In what she's excellent, and where defective.
'Tis a hard task: he that will undergo
To make a judgment of a woman's beauty,
And see through all her plasterings and paintings,
Had need of Lynceus' eyes, and with more ease
May look, like him, through nine mud walls, than make
A true discovery of her. But the intents
And secrets of my prince's heart must be
Served, and not search'd into.
Enter Charomonte.
Char. Most noble sir,
Excuse my age, subject to ease and sloth,
That with no greater speed I have presented
My service with your welcome.
Sanaz. 'Tis more fit
That I should ask your pardon, for disturbing
Your rest at this unseasonable hour.
But my occasions carrying me so near
Your hospitable house, my stay being short too,
Your goodness, and the name of friend, which you
Are pleased to grace me with, gave me assurance
A visit would not offend.
Char. Offend, my lord!
I feel myself much younger for the favour.
How is it with our gracious master?
Sanaz. He, sir,
Holds still his wonted greatness, and confesses
Himself your debtor, for your love and care
To the prince Giovanni; and had sent
Particular thanks by me, had his grace known
The quick despatch of what I was design'd to
Would have licensed me to see you.
Char. I am rich
In his acknowledgment.
Sanaz. I have heard
Your happiness in a daughter.
Char. Sits the wind there? [Aside.
Sanaz. Fame gives her out for a rare masterpiece.
Char. 'Tis a plain village girl, sir, but obedient;
That's her best beauty, sir.
Sanaz. Let my desire
To see her find a fair construction from you:
I bring no loose thought with me.
Char. You are that way,
My lord, free from suspicion. Her own manners,
Without an imposition from me,
I hope, will prompt her to it.
Enter Lidia and Petronella.
As she is,
She comes to make a tender of that service
Which she stands bound to pay.
Sanaz. With your fair leave,
I make bold to salute you.
Lid. Sir, you have it.
Char. How he falls off!
Lid. My lord, though silence best becomes a maid,
And to be curious to know but what
Concerns myself, and with becoming distance,
May argue me of boldness, I must borrow
So much of modesty, as to inquire
Prince Giovanni's health.
Sanaz. He cannot want
What you are pleased to wish him.
Lid. Would 'twere so!
And then there is no blessing that can make
A hopeful and a noble prince complete,
But should fall on him. O! he was our north star,
The light and pleasure of our eyes.
Sanaz. Where am I?
I feel myself another thing! Can charms
Be writ on such pure rubies[71]? her lips melt
As soon as touch'd! Not those smooth gales that glide
O'er happy Araby, or rich Sabæa,
Creating in their passage gums and spices,
Can serve for a weak simile to express
The sweetness of her breath. Such a brave stature
Homer bestow'd on Pallas, every limb
Proportion'd to it!
Char. This is strange.—My lord!
Sanaz. I crave your pardon, and yours, matchless maid,
For such I must report you.
Petron. There's no notice
Taken all this while of me.
[Aside.
Sanaz. And I must add,
If your discourse and reason parallel
The rareness of your more than human form,
You are a wonder.
Char. Pray you, my lord, make trial:
She can speak, I can assure you; and that my presence
May not take from her freedom, I will leave you:
For know, my lord, my confidence dares trust her
Where, and with whom, she pleases.—Petronella!
Petron. Yes, my good lord.
Char. I have employment for you.
[Exeunt Charomonte and Petronella.
Lid. What's your will, sir?
Sanaz. Madam, you are so large a theme to treat of,
And every grace about you offers to me
Such copiousness of language, that I stand
Doubtful which first to touch at. If I err,
As in my choice I may, let me entreat you,
Before I do offend, to sign my pardon:
Let this, the emblem of your innocence,
Give me assurance.
Lid. My hand join'd to yours,
Without this superstition, confirms it.
Nor need I fear you will dwell long upon me,
The barrenness of the subject yielding nothing
That rhetoric, with all her tropes and figures,
Can amplify. Yet since you are resolved
To prove yourself a courtier in my praise,
As I'm a woman (and you men affirm
Our sex loves to be flatter'd) I'll endure it.
Enter Charomonte above.
Now, when you please, begin.
Sanaz. [turning from her.] If the great duke
Made this his end to try my constant temper,
Though I am vanquished, 'tis his fault, not mine;
For I am flesh and blood, and have affections
Like other men. Who can behold the temples,
Or holy altars, but the objects work
Devotion in him? And I may as well
Walk over burning iron with bare feet,
And be unscorch'd, as look upon this beauty
Without desire, and that desire pursued too,
Till it be quench'd with the enjoying those
Delights, which to achieve, danger is nothing,
And loyalty but a word.
Lid. I ne'er was proud;
Nor can find I am guilty of a thought
Deserving this neglect.
Sanaz. Suppose his greatness
Loves her himself, why makes he choice of me
To be his agent? It is tyranny
To call one pinch'd with hunger to a feast,
And at that instant cruelly deny him
To taste of what he sees. Allegiance
Tempted too far is like the trial of
A good sword on an anvil; as that often
Flies in pieces without service to the owner,
So trust enforced too far proves treachery,
And is too late repented.
Lid. Pray you, sir,
Or license me to leave you, or deliver
The reasons which invite you to command
My tedious waiting on you.
Char. As I live,
I know not what to think on 't. Is 't his pride,
Or his simplicity?
Sanaz. Whither have my thoughts
Carried me from myself? In this my dulness,
I've lost an opportunity——
[Turns to her; she falls off.
Lid. 'Tis true
I was not bred in court, nor live a star there;
Nor shine in rich embroideries and pearl,
As they that are the mistresses of great fortunes
Are every day adorn'd with——
Sanaz. Will you vouchsafe
Your ear, sweet lady?
Lid. Yet I may be bold,
For my integrity and fame, to rank
With such as are more glorious. Though I never
Did injury, yet I am sensible
When I'm contemn'd and scorn'd.
Sanaz. Will you please to hear me?
Lid. O the difference of natures! Giovanni,
A prince in expectation, when he lived here,
Stole courtesy from heaven[72], and would not to
The meanest servant in my father's house
Have kept such distance.
Sanaz. Pray you, do not think me
Unworthy of your ear: it was your beauty
That turn'd me statue. I can speak, fair lady.
Lid. And I can hear. The harshness of your courtship
Cannot corrupt my courtesy.
Sanaz. Will you hear me,
If I speak of love?
Lid. Provided you be modest;
I were uncivil, else.
Char. They are come to parley:
I must observe this nearer.
[He retires.
Sanaz. You are a rare one,
And such (but that my haste commands me hence)
I could converse with ever. Will you grace me
With leave to visit you again?
Lid. So you,
At your return to court, do me the favour
To make a tender of my humble service
To the prince Giovanni.
Sanaz. Ever touching
Upon that string! [Aside.] And will you give me hope
Of future happiness?
Lid. That, as I shall find you:
The fort that's yielded at the first assault
Is hardly worth the taking.
Re-enter Charomonte below.
Sanaz. She is a magazine of all perfection,
And 'tis death to part from her, yet I must.
Char. A homely breakfast does attend your lordship,
Such as the place affords.
Sanaz. No; I have feasted
Already here; my thanks, and so I leave you:
I will see you again.—Till this unhappy hour
I was never lost; and what to do, or say,
I have not yet determined.
[Aside, and exit.
Char. Gone so abruptly!
'Tis very strange.
Lid. Under your favour, sir,
His coming hither was to little purpose,
For any thing I heard from him.
Char. Take heed, Lidia!
I do advise you with a father's love,
And tenderness of your honour; as I would not
Have you too harsh in giving entertainment,
So by no means be credulous: for great men,
Till they have gain'd their ends, are giants in
Their promises, but, those obtain'd, weak pigmies
In their performance. And it is a maxim
Allow'd among them, so they may deceive,
They may swear any thing; for the queen of love,
As they hold constantly, does never punish,
But smile at, lovers' perjuries[73].—Yet be wise too,
And when you are sued to in a noble way,
Be neither nice nor scrupulous.
Lid. All you speak, sir,
I hear as oracles; nor will digress
From your directions.
Char. So shall you keep
Your fame untainted.
Lid. As I would my life, sir. [Exeunt.
Florence. An Anteroom in the Palace.
Enter Sanazarro and Servant.
Sanaz. Leave the horses with my grooms; but be you careful,
With your best diligence and speed, to find out
The prince, and humbly, in my name, entreat
I may exchange some private conference with him
Before the great duke know of my arrival.
Serv. I haste, my lord.
Sanaz. Here I'll attend his coming:
And see you keep yourself, as much as may be,
Conceal'd from all men else.
Serv. To serve your lordship,
I wish I were invisible.
[Exit.
Sanaz. I am driven
Into a desperate strait, and cannot steer
A middle course; and of the two extremes
Which I must make election of, I know not
Which is more full of horror. Never servant
Stood more engaged to a magnificent master,
Than I to Cozimo: and all those honours
And glories by his grace conferr'd upon me,
Or by my prosperous services deserved,
If now I should deceive his trust, and make
A shipwreck of my loyalty, are ruin'd.
And, on the other side, if I discover
Lidia's divine perfections, all my hopes
In her are sunk, never to be buoy'd up:
For 'tis impossible, but, as soon as seen,
She must with adoration be sued to.
A hermit at his beads but looking on her
At this object would take fire. Nor is the duke
Such an Hippolytus, but that this Phædra,
But seen, must force him to forsake the groves
And Dian's huntmanship, proud to serve under
Venus' soft ensigns. No, there is no way
For me to hope fruition of my ends,
But to conceal her beauties;—and how that
May be effected is as hard a task
As with a veil to cover the sun's beams,
Or comfortable light. Three years the prince
Lived in her company, and Contarino,
The secretary, hath possess'd[74] the duke
What a rare piece she is:—but he's my creature,
And may with ease be frighted to deny
What he hath said: and if my long experience,
With some strong reasons I have thought upon,
Cannot o'er-reach a youth, my practice yields me
But little profit.
Enter Giovanni with the Servant.
Giov. You are well return'd, sir.
Sanaz. Leave us.—[Exit Servant.] When that your grace shall know the motives
That forced me to invite you to this trouble,
You will excuse my manners.
Giov. Sir, there needs not
This circumstance between us. You are ever
My noble friend.
Sanaz. You shall have further cause
To assure you of my faith and zeal to serve you:
And when I have committed to your trust
(Presuming still on your retentive silence)
A secret of no less importance than
My honour, nay, my head, it will confirm
What value you hold with me.
Giov. Pray you, believe, sir,
What you deliver to me shall be lock'd up
In a strong cabinet, of which you yourself
Shall keep the key; for here I pawn my honour,
Which is the best security I can give yet,
It shall not be discover'd.
Sanaz. This assurance
Is more than I with modesty could demand
From such a paymaster; but I must be sudden;
And, therefore, to the purpose. Can your excellence,
In your imagination, conceive
On what design, or whither, the duke's will
Commanded me hence last night?
Giov. No, I assure you;
And it had been a rudeness to inquire
Of that I was not call'd to.
Sanaz. Grant me hearing,
And I will make you truly understand
It only did concern you.
Giov. Me, my lord!
Sanaz. You, in your present state and future fortunes;
For both lie at the stake.
Giov. You much amaze me.
Pray you, resolve this riddle.
Sanaz. You know the duke,
If he die issueless, as yet he is,
Determines you his heir.
Giov. It hath pleased his highness
Oft to profess so much.
Sanaz. But say he should
Be won to prove a second wife, on whom
He may beget a son, how, in a moment,
Will all those glorious expectations, which
Render you reverenced and remarkable,
Be in a moment blasted, howe'er you are
His much-loved sister's son!
Giov. I must bear it
With patience, and in me it is a duty
That I was born with; and 'twere much unfit
For the receiver of a benefit
To offer, for his own ends, to prescribe
Laws to the giver's pleasure.
Sanaz. Sweetly answer'd,
And like your noble self. This your rare temper
So wins upon me, that I would not live
(If that by honest arts I can prevent it)
To see your hopes made frustrate. And but think
How you shall be transform'd from what you are,
Should this (as Heaven avert it!) ever happen.
It must disturb your peace: for whereas now,
Being, as you are, received for the heir-apparent,
You are no sooner seen but wonder'd at;
The signiors making it a business to
Inquire how you have slept; and, as you walk
The streets of Florence, the glad multitude
In throngs press but to see you; and, with joy,
The father, pointing with his finger, tells
His son, This is the prince, the hopeful prince,
That must hereafter rule, and you obey him.—
Great ladies beg your picture, and make love
To that, despairing to enjoy the substance.—
And but the last night, when 'twas only rumour'd
That you were come to court, as if you had
By sea pass'd hither from another world,
What general shouts and acclamations follow'd!
The bells rang loud, the bonfires blazed, and such
As loved not wine, carousing to your health,
Were drunk, and blush'd not at it. And is this
A happiness to part with?
Giov. I allow these
As flourishes of fortune, with which princes
Are often soothed; but never yet esteem'd them
For real blessings.
Sanaz. Yet all these were paid
To what you may be, not to what you are;
For if the Great Duke but show to his servants
A son of his own, you shall, like one obscure,
Pass unregarded.
Giov. I confess, command
Is not to be contemn'd, and if my fate
Appoint me to it, as I may, I'll bear it
With willing shoulders. But, my lord, as yet,
You've told me of a danger coming towards me,
But have not named it.
Sanaz. That is soon deliver'd.
Great Cozimo, your uncle, as I more
Than guess, for 'tis no frivolous circumstance
That does persuade my judgment to believe it,
Purposes to be married.
Giov. Married, sir!
With whom, and on what terms? pray you, instruct me.
Sanaz. With the fair Lidia.
Giov. Lidia!
Sanaz. The daughter
Of signior Charomonte.
Giov. Pardon me
Though I appear incredulous; for, on
My knowledge, he ne'er saw her.
Sanaz. That is granted:
But Contarino hath so sung her praises,
And given her out for such a masterpiece,
That he's transported with it, sir:—and love
Steals sometimes through the ear into the heart,
As well as by the eye. The duke no sooner
Heard her described, but I was sent in post
To see her, and return my judgment of her.
Giov. And what's your censure[75]?
Sanaz. 'Tis a pretty creature.
Giov. She's very fair.
Sanaz. Yes, yes, I have seen worse faces.
Giov. Her limbs are neatly form'd.
Sanaz. She hath a waist
Indeed sized to love's wish.
Giov. A delicate hand too.
Sanaz. Then for a leg and foot—
Giov. And there I leave you,
For I presumed no further.
Sanaz. As she is, sir,
I know she wants no gracious part that may
Allure the duke; and, if he only see her,
She is his own; he will not be denied,
And then you are lost: yet, if you'll second me,
(As you have reason, for it most concerns you,)
I can prevent all yet.
Giov. I would you could,
A noble way.
Sanaz. I will cry down her beauties;
Especially the beauties of her mind,
As much as Contarino hath advanced them;
And this, I hope, will breed forgetfulness,
And kill affection in him: but you must join
With me in my report, if you be question'd.
Giov. I never told a lie yet; and I hold it
In some degree blasphémous[76] to dispraise
What's worthy admiration: yet, for once,
I will dispraise a little, and not vary
From your relation.
Enter Alphonso.
Alph. My lord, the duke hath seen your man, and wonders
Enter Cozimo, Hippolito, Contarino, and Attendants.
You come not to him. See, if his desire
To have conference with you hath not brought him hither
In his own person!
Coz. They are comely coursers,
And promise swiftness.
Cont. They are, of my knowledge,
Of the best race in Naples.
Coz. You are, nephew,
As I hear, an excellent horseman, and we like it:
'Tis a fair grace in a prince. Pray you, make trial
Of their strength and speed; and, if you think them fit
For your employment, with a liberal hand
Reward the gentleman that did present them
From the viceroy of Naples.
Giov. I will use
My best endeavour, sir.
Coz. Wait on my nephew.
[Exeunt Giovanni, Alphonso, Hippolito, and Attendants.
Nay, stay you, Contarino:—be within call;
It may be we shall use you. [Exit Contarino.] You have rode hard, sir,
And we thank you for it: every minute seems
Irksome, and tedious to us, till you have
Made your discovery. Say, friend, have you seen
This phœnix of our age?
Sanaz. I have seen a maid, sir;
But, if that I have judgment, no such wonder
As she was deliver'd to you.
Coz. This is strange.
Sanaz. But certain truth. It may be, she was look'd on
With admiration in the country, sir;
But, if compared with many in your court,
She would appear but ordinary.
Coz. Contarino
Reports her otherwise.
Sanaz. Such as ne'er saw swans
May think crows beautiful.
Coz. How is her behaviour?
Sanaz. 'Tis like the place she lives in.
Coz. How her wit,
Discourse, and entertainment?
Sanaz. Very coarse;
I would not willingly say poor, and rude:
But, had she all the beauties of fair women,
The dulness of her soul would fright me from her.
Coz. You are curious, sir. I know not what to think on 't.— [Aside.
Contarino!
Re-enter Contarino.
Cont. Sir.
Coz. Where was thy judgment, man,
To extol a virgin Sanazarro tells me
Is nearer to deformity?
Sanaz. I saw her,
And curiously perused her; and I wonder
That she, that did appear to me, that know
What beauty is, not worthy the observing,
Should so transport you.
Cont. Troth, my lord, I thought then——
Coz. Thought! Didst thou not affirm it?
Cont. I confess, sir,
I did believe so then; but now I hear
My lord's opinion to the contrary,
I am of another faith: for 'tis not fit
That I should contradict him. I am dim, sir;
But he's sharp-sighted.
Sanaz. This is to my wish. [Aside.
Coz. We know not what to think of this; yet would not
Re-enter Giovanni, Hippolito, and Alphonso.
Determine rashly of it. [Aside.]—How do you like
My nephew's horsemanship?
Hip. In my judgment, sir,
It is exact and rare.
Alph. And, to my fancy,
He did present great Alexander mounted
On his Bucephalus.
Coz. You are right, courtiers,
And know it is your duty to cry up
All actions of a prince.
Sanaz. Do not betray
Yourself, you're safe; I have done my part.
[Aside to Giovanni.
Giov. I thank you;
Nor will I fail.
Coz. What's your opinion, nephew,
Of the horses?
Giov. Two of them are, in my judgment,
The best I ever back'd; I mean the roan, sir,
And the brown bay: but for the chestnut-colour'd,
Though he be full of metal, hot, and fiery,
He treads weak in his pasterns.
Coz. So: come nearer;
This exercise hath put you into a sweat;
Take this and dry it: and now I command you
To tell me truly what's your censure of
Charomonte's daughter, Lidia.