Forasmuch as our high and mighty Master, Philip, the potent and most Catholick King of Spain, hath not only in his own Royal person, been long, and often sollicited, and grieved, with the deadly and [uncurable] hatred, sprung up betwixt the two antient and most [honorable] descended Houses of these his two dearly and equally beloved Subjects, Don Ferdinando de Alvarez, and Don Pedro de Vitelli: (all which in vain his Majesty hath often endeavored to reconcile and qualifie:) But that also through the debates, quarrels, and outrages daily arising, falling, and flowing from these great heads, his publick civil Government is seditiously and barbarously molested and wounded, and many of his chief Gentry (no less tender to his Royal Majesty then the very branches of his own sacred blood) spoyld, lost, and submerged, in the impious inundation and torrent of their still-growing malice: It hath therefore pleased His sacred Majesty, out of his infinite affection to preserve his Common-wealth, and general peace, from farther violation, (as a sweet and heartily loving father of his people) and on the earnest petitions of these arch-enemies, to Order, and ordain, that they b[e] ready, each with his well-chosen and beloved friend, armed at all points like Gentlemen, in the Castle of St. Jago, on this present Monday morning betwixt eight and nine of the clock, where (before the combattants be allowed to commence this granted Duel) This to be read aloud for the publick satisfaction of his Majesties well bel[o]ved Subjects.
'Save the King. [Drums within.
Say. Hark their Drums speak their insatiate thirst
Of blood, and stop their ears 'gainst pious peace,
Who gently whispering, implores their friendship!
Assist. Kings nor authority can master fate;
Admit 'em then, and blood extinguish hate.
Enter severally, Alvarez, and Lucio, Vitelli and Lamora[l].
Say. Stay, yet be pleas'd to think, and let not daring
Wherein men now adaies exceed even beasts,
And think themselves not men else, so transport you
Beyond the bounds of Christianity:
Lord Alvarez, Vitelli, Gentlemen,
No Town in Spain, from our Metropolis
Unto the rudest hovel, but is great
With your assured valors daily proofs:
Oh will you then, for a superfluous fame,
A sound of honor, which in these times, all
Like hereticks profess (with obstinacy)
But most erroneously venture your souls,
'Tis a hard task, through a Sea of blood
To sail, and land at Heaven?
Vit. I hope not
If justice be my Pilot: but my Lord,
You know, if argument, or time, or love,
Could reconcile, long since we had shook hands;
I dare protest, your breath cools not a vein
In any one of us, but blows the fire
Which nought but blood reciprocal can quench.
Alv. Vitelli, thou sayst bravely, and sayst right,
And I will kill thee for't, I love thee so.
Vit. Ha, ha, old man: upon thy death I'll build
A story (with this arm) for thy old wife
To tell thy daughter Clara seven years hence
As she sits weeping by a winters fire,
How such a time Vitelli slew her husband
With the same Sword his daughter favor'd him,
And lives, and wears it yet: Come Lamorall,
Redeem thy self.
Lam. Lucio, Genevora
Shall on this Sword receive thy bleeding heart,
For my presented hat, laid at her feet.