[SCENE II.]
Enter two Murtherers with Pertillo.
Per. I am so wearie in this combrous wood, That I must needes go sit me downe and rest.
1 Mur. What were we best? to kill him unawares, Or give him notice what we doe intend?
2 Mur. Whie then belike you meane to do your charge, And feel no tast of pittie in your hart.
1 Mur. Of pittie, man! that never enters heere,
And if it should, Ide threat my craven heart
To stab it home for harbouring such a thought.
I see no reason whie I should relent;
It is a charitable vertuous deede,
To end this princkocke[19] from this sinfull world.
2 Mur. Such charitie will never have reward,
Unlesse it be with sting of conscience;
And thats a torment worse than Sisipus,
That rowles a restlesse stone against the hill.
1 Mur. My conscience is not prickt with such conceit.
2 Mur. That shews thee further off from hoped grace.
1 Mur. Grace me no graces, I respect no grace,
But with a grace, to give a gracelesse stab;
To chop folkes legges and armes off by the stumpes,
To see what shift theile make to scramble home;
Pick out mens eyes, and tell them thats the sport
Of hood-man-blinde, without all sportivenesse.
If with a grace I can perform such pranckes,
My hart will give mine agents many thankes.
2 Mur. Then God forbid I should consort my selfe
With one so far from grace and pietie,
Least being found within thy companie,
I should be partner of thy punishment.
1 Mur. When wee have done what we have vowed to do,
My hart desires to have no fellowship
With those that talk of grace or godlinesse.
I nam'd not God, unleast twere with an othe,
Sence the first hour that I could walk alone;
And you that make so much of conscience,
By heaven thou art a damned hipocrite,
For thou hast vow'd to kill that sleeping boy,
And all to gaine two hundreth markes in gold.
I know this purenesse comes of pure deceit,
To draw me from from the murthering of the child,
That you alone might have the benefit.
You are too shallow; if you gull me so,
Chop of my head to make a Sowsing-tub,
And fill it full of tripes and chitterlinges.
2 Mur. That thou shalt see my hart is far from fraud,
Or vaine illusion in this enterprize,
Which doth import the safetie of our soules,
There take my earnest of impietie. [Give him his mony.
Onely forbeare to lay thy ruder handes
Upon the poore mistrustlesse tender child.
As for our vowes, feare not their violence;
God will forgive on hartie penitence.
1 Mur. Thou Eunuch, Capon, Dastard, fast and loose,
Thou weathercocke of mutabilitie,
White-livered Paisant, wilt thou vowe and sweare,
Face and make semblance with thy bagpipe othes
Of that thou never meanst to execute?
Pure cowardice, for feare to cracke thy necke
With the huge Caos of thy bodies waight,
Hath sure begot this true contrition.
Then fast and pray, and see if thou canst winne,
A goodlie pardon for thy hainous sinne.
As for the boy, this fatall instrument
Was mark'd by heaven to cut his line[20] of life,
And must supplie the knife of Atropos,
And if it doe not, let this maister-piece
(Which nature lent the world to wonder at)
Be slit in Carbonadoes[21] for the jawes
Of some men-eating hungrie Canniball.
By heaven ile kill him onely for this cause,
For that he came of vertuous Auncestors.
2 m. But by that God which made that wondrous globe,
Wherein is seene his powerfull dietie,[22]
Thou shalt not kill him maugre all thy spight.
Sweare, and forsweare thyselfe ten thousand times.
Awake Pertillo, for thou art betrai'd;
This bloody slave intends to murther thee. [Draw both.
1 mur. Both him, and all, that dare to rescue him.
Per. Wherefore? because I slept without your leave? Forgive my fault, ile never sleepe againe.
2 Mur. No Child, thy wicked Unckle hath suborn'd
Both him and me to take thy life away,
Which I would save, but that this hellish impe
Will not content to spare thy guiltlesse blood.
Per. Why should Falleria seeke to have my life?
2 mur. The lands and goods, thy father left his sonne, Do hale thee on to thy destruction.
Per. Oh needy treasure, harme-begetting good! That safety[23] should procure the losse of blood!
2 mur. Those lands and goods, thy father got with paine, Are swords wherewith his little sonne is slaine.
1 mu. Then let our swords let out his guiltlesse life.
Per. Sweete, sowre, kinde, cruell, hold thy murthering knife, And here [sic] me speake, before you murther me.
2 mu. Feare not, sweet child, he shall not murther thee.
1 mu. No, but my sword shall let his puddings forth.
Per. First here me speake, thou map of Butcherie:
Tis but my goods and lands my Unckle seekes;
Having that safely, he desires no more.
I do protest by my dead parents soules,
By the deare love of false Fallerios sonne,
Whose heart, my heart assures me, will be griev'd
To heare his fathers inhumanitie,
I will forsake my countrie, goods, and lands,
I, and my selfe will even change my selfe,
In name, in life, in habit, and in all,
And live in some farre-moved continent,
So you will spare my weake and tender youth,
Which cannot entertaine the stroake of death
In budding yeares and verie spring of life.
1 Mur. Leave of these bootlesse protestations,
And use no ruth-enticing argumentes,
For if you do, ile lop you lim by lim,
And torture you for childish eloquence.
2 Mur. Thou shalt not make his little finger ake.
1 Mur. Yes, every part, and this shall proove it true. [Runnes Perillo in with his sworde.
Per. Oh I am slaine, the Lord forgive thy fact! And give thee grace to dye with penitence. [Dyeth.
2 Mur. A treacherous villaine, full of cowardise! Ile make thee know that thou hast done amisse.
1 m. Teach me that knowledge when you will or dare.
[They fight and kill one another; the relenter having some more life, and the other dyeth.
1 mur. Swoones, I am peppered, I had need have salt,
Or else to morrow I shall yeeld a stincke,
Worse then a heape of dirty excrements.
Now by this Hilt, this golde was earn'd too deare:
Ah, how now death, wilt thou be conquerour?
Then vengeance light on them that made me so,
And ther's another farewell ere I goe.
[Stab the other murtherer againe.
2 mur. Enough, enough, I had my death before.
[A hunt within.
Enter the Duke of Padua, Turqualo, Vesuvio, Alberto, &c.
Duke. How now my Lords, was't not a gallant course,
Beleeve me sirs, I never saw a wretch,
Make better shift to save her little life.
The thickets full of buskes,[24] and scratching bryers,
A mightie dewe,[25] a many deepe mouth'd hounds,
Let loose in every place to crosse their course,—
And yet the Hare got cleanly from them all.
I would not for a hundred pound in faith,
But that she had escaped with her life;
For we will winde a merry hunters home,
And starte her once again tomorrow morne.
Turq. In troth my Lord, the little flocked[26] hound,
That had but three good legs to further him,
Twas formost still, and surer of his sent,
Then any one in all the crie besides.
Vesu. But yet Pendragon gave the Hare more turnes.
Alber. That was because he was more polliticke,
And eyed her closely in her coverts still:
They all did well, and once more we will trie,
The subtile creature with a greater crie.
Enter Allenso, booted.
Duke. But say, what well accomplished Gentleman Is that that comes into our company?
Vesu. I know him well, it is Fallerios sonne, Pandynos brother (a kinde Gentleman) That dyed and left his little pretty sonne, Unto his brother's[27] good direction.
Duke. Stand close awhile, and overheare his wordes; He seemes much over-gone with passion.
Allen. Yee timorous thoughts that guide my giddy steps
In unknowne pathes of dreadfull wildernesse,
Why traitor-like do you conspire to holde
My pained heart twixt feare and jealousie?
My too much care hath brought me carelesly,
Into this woody savadge labyrinth,
And I can finde no way to issue out;
Feare hath so dazeled all my better part,
That reason hath forgot discreations art.
But in good time, see where is company.—
Kinde Gentlemen, if you, unlike my selfe,
Are not incumbred with the circling wayes
Of this erronious winding wildernesse,
I pray you to direct me foorth this wood
And showe the pathe that leades to Padua.
Duke. We all are Paduans, and we all intend To passe forthwith with speed to Padua.
Allen. I will attend upon you presently. [See the bodyes.
Duke. Come then away:—but, gentlemen beholde, A bloody sight, and murtherous spectacle!
2 Mur. Oh, God, forgive me all my wickednesse And take me to eternall happinesse!
Duke. Harke one of them hath some small sparke of life, To kindle knowledge of their sad mishaps.
Allen. Ah gratious Lord, I know this wretched child, And these two men that here lye murthered.
Vesu. Do you, Allenso?
Allen. I, my gracious Lord:
It was Pertillo my dead Unckles sonne.
Now have my feares brought forth this fearefull childe
Of endlesse care, and everlasting griefe!
Duke. Lay hands upon Allenso, Gentlemen. Your presence doth confirme you had a share In the performance of this crueltie.
Allen. I do confesse I have so great a share
In this mishap, that I will give him thankes,
That will let foorth my sorrow-wounded soule
From out this goale of lamentation.
Duke. Tis now too late to wish for hadiwist.[28] Had you withheld your hand from this attempt, Sorrow had never so imprisoned you.
Allen. Oh my good Lord, do not mistake my case,
And yet my griefe is sure infallible.
The Lord of heaven can witnesse with my soule,
That I am guiltelesse of your wrong suspect,
But yet not griefelesse that the deed is done.
Duke. Nay if you stand to justifie your selfe,
This gentleman whose life dooth seeme to stay,
Within his body till[29] he tell your shame,
Shall testifie of your integritie:
Speake then, thou sad Anatomy of death,
Who were the Agents of your wofulnesse?
2 Mur. O be not blinded with a false surmise,
For least my tongue should faile to end the tale
Of our untimely fate-appointed death,
Know young Allenso is as innocent
As is Fallerio guiltie of the crime.
He, he it was, that with foure hundredth markes,
Whereof two hundred he paide presently,
Did hire[30] this damn'd villaine and my selfe
To massacre this harmelesse innocent:
But yet my conscience, toucht with some remorse,
Would faine have sav'd the young Pertillos life,
But he remorselesse would not let him live,
But unawares thrust in his harmelesse brest
That life-bereaving fatall instrument:
Which cruell deede I seeking to revenge,
Have lost my life and paid the slave his due
Rewarde for spilling blood of innocents.
Surprise Fallerio, author of this ill;
Save young Allenso, he is guiltlesse still. [Dyeth.
Allen. Oh sweetest honie mixt with bitter gall,
Oh Nightingale combinde with Ravens notes,
Thy speech is like a woodward that should say,—
Let the tree live, but take the root away.
As though my life were ought but miserie,
Having my father slaine for infamie!
Duke. What should incite Fallerio to devise, The overthrowe of this unhappie boy?
Vesu. That may be easily guest, my gracious Lord,
To be the lands Pandino left his sonne,
Which, after that the boy were murthered,
Discend to him by due inheritance.
Duke. You deeme aright. See, gentlemen, the fruites,
Of coveting to have anothers right.
Oh wicked thought of greedie covetice!
Could neither nature, feare of punishment,
Scandall to wife and children, nor the feare,
Of Gods confounding strict severitie,
Allay the head-strong furie of thy will?
Beware, my friends, to wish unlawfull gaine;
It will beget strange actions full of feare,
And overthrowe the actor unawares.
For first Fallerios life must satisfie
The large effusion of their guiltlesse bloods,
Traind on by him to these extremities;
Next, wife and children must be disposest,
Of lands and goods, and turnde to beggerie;
But most of all, his great and hainous sinne,
Will be an eye-sore to his guiltlesse kinne.
Beare hence away these models of his shame,
And let us prosecute the murtherer
With all the care and diligence we can.
[Two must be carrying away Pertillo
Allen. Forbeare awhile to beare away my joy,
Which now is vanisht since his life is fled;
And give me leave to wash his deadly wound
With hartie teares, outflowing from those eyes
Which lov'd his sight, more then the sight of heaven.
Forgive me God for this idolatrie!
Thou ugly monster, grim imperious death,
Thou raw-bonde lumpe of foule deformitie,
Reguardlesse instrument of cruell fate,
Unparciall Sergeant, full of treacherie,
Why didst thou flatter my ill-boding thoughts,
And flesh my hopes with vaine illusions?
Why didst thou say, Pertillo should not dye,
And yet, oh yet, hast done it cruelly?
Oh but beholde, with what a smiling cheere,
He intertain'd thy bloody harbinger!
See, thou transformer of a heavenly face
To Ashie palenesse and unpleasing lookes,
That his fair countenance still retaineth grace
Of perfect beauty in the very grave.
The world would say such beauty should not dye;
Yet like a theefe thou didst it cruelly.
Ah, had thy eyes, deepe-sunke into thy head,
Beene able to perceive his vertuous minde,
Where vertue sat inthroned in a chaire,
With awfull grace and pleasing maiestie,
Thou wouldest not then have let Pertillo die,
Nor like a theefe have slaine him cruellie.
Inevitable fates, could you devise,
No means to bring me to this pilgrimage,
Full of great woes and sad calamities,
But that the father should be principall,
To plot the present downfall of the sonne?
Come then kind death and give me leave to die,
Since thou hast slaine Pertillo cruellie.
Du. Forbeare, Allenso; hearken to my doome,
Which doth concerne thy fathers apprehension.
First we enjoyne thee, upon paine of death,
To give no succour to thy wicked sire,
But let him perrish in his damned sinne,
And pay the price of such a treacherie.
See that with speede the monster be attach'd,
And bring him safe to suffer punishment.
Prevent it not, nor seeke not to delude
The Officers to whom this charge is given;
For if thou doe, as sure as God doth live,
Thy selfe shall satisfie the lawes contempt.
Therefore forward about this punishment.
[Exeunt omnes: manet Allenso.
Al. Thankes, gratious God, that thou hast left the meanes
To end my soule from this perplexitie.
Not succour him on paine of present death!
That is no paine; death is a welcome guest
To those whose hearts are overwhelm'd with griefe.
My woes are done, I having leave to die
And after death live ever joyfullie. [Exit.
Enter Murther and Covetousnesse.
Mur. Now, Avarice, I have well satisfied
My hungrie thoughtes with blood and crueltie;
Now all my melanchollie discontent
Is shaken off, and I am throughlie pleas'd,
With what thy pollicie hath brought to passe.
Yet am I not so throughlie satisfied
Untill I bring the purple actors forth.
And cause them quaffe a bowle of bitternesse,
That father sonne, and sister brother may
Bring to their deathes with most assur'd decay.
Ava. That wilbe done without all question,
For thou hast slaine Allenso with the boy,
And Rachell doth not wish to overlive
The sad remembrance of her brothers sinne.
Leave faithfull love to teach them how to dye,
That they may share their kinsfolkes miserie.
[Exeunt.