The Laws of Candy Part 28

Here's some strange novelty.

Possenne:

Sure we are mock'd, Speak one at once: say wherein hath your Son Transgress'd the Law?

Ca.s.silanes:

O the gross mists of dulness!

Are you this Kingdomes Oracles, yet can be So ignorant? first hear, and then consider.

That I begot him, gave him birth and life, And education, were, I must confess, But duties of a Father: I did more; I taught him how to manage Arms, to dare An Enemy; to court both death and dangers; Yet these were but additions to compleat A well accomplish'd Souldier: I did more yet.

I made him chief Commander in the field Next to my self, and gave him the full prospeft Of honour, and preferment; train'd him up In all perfections of a Martiallist: But he unmindful of his grat.i.tude, You know with what contempt of my deserts, First kick'd against mine honour, scorned all My services; then got the palm of glory Unto himself: yet not content with this, He (lastly) hath conspir'd my death, and sought Means to engage me to this Lady's debt, Whose bounty all my whole estate could never Give satisfaction to: now honoured Fathers, For this cause only, if your Law be law, And you the Ministers of justice; then Think of this strange ingrat.i.tude in him.

Philander:

Can this be so _Antinous_?

Antinous:

'Tis all true, Nor hath my much wrong'd father limn'd my faults In colours half so black, as in themselves, My guilt hath dy'd them: were there mercy left, Yet mine own shame would be my Executioner: Lords, I am guilty.

Erota:

Thou beliest, _Antinous_, Thine innocence: alas, my Lords, he's desperate, And talks he knows not what: you must not credit 290] His lunacy; I can my self disprove This accusation: _Ca.s.silane_, be yet More mercifull; I beg it.

Ca.s.silanes:

Time, not fate, The world, or what is in it, shall not alter My resolution: he shall dye.

Erota:

The Senats Prayers, or weeping Lovers, shall not alter My resolution: thou shalt dye.

Antinous:

Why Madam, Are ye all Marble?

Possenne:

Leave your s.h.i.+fts _Antinous_, What plead you to your Fathers accusation?

Antinous:

Most fully guilty.

Possenne:

You have doom'd your self, We cannot quit you now.

Ca.s.silanes:

A burthen'd conscience Will never need a hang-man: hadst thou dar'd To have deni'd it, then this Sword of mine Should on thy head have prov'd thy tongue a lyar.

Erota:

Thy sword? wretched old man, thou hast liv'd too long To carry peace or comfort to thy grave; Thou art a man condemn'd: my Lords, this tyrant Had perish'd but for me, I still suppli'd His miserable wants; I sent his Daughter Mony to buy him food; the bread he eat, Was from my purse: when he (vain-gloriously) To dive into the peoples hearts, had p.a.w.n'd His birth-right, I redeem'd it, sent it to him, And for requitall, only made my suite, That he would please to new receive his son Into his favour, for whose love I told him I had been still so friendly: but then he As void of grat.i.tude, as all good nature, Distrafted like a mad man, poasted hither To pull this vengeance on himself, and us; For why, my Lords, since by the Law, all means Is blotted out of your commission, As this hard hearted Father hath accus'd n.o.ble _Antinous_, his unblemished Son, 291] So I accuse this Father, and crave judgement.

Ca.s.silanes:

All this is but deceit, meer trifles forg'd By combination to defeat the process Of Justice, I will have _Antinous_ life.

Arcanes:

Sir, what do ye mean?

Erota:

I will have _Ca.s.silane's_.

Antinous:

Cunning and cruel Lady, runs the stream Of your affections this way? have you not Conquest enough by treading on my grave?

Unless you send me thither in a shrowd Steept in my fathers bloud? as you are woman, As the protests of love you vow'd were honest; Be gentler to my Father.

Erota:

Ca.s.silane, Thou hast a heart of flint: let my intreaties, My tears, the Sacrifice of griefs unfeigned, Melt it: yet be a Father to thy son, Unmask thy long besotted judgement, see A low obedience kneeling at the feet Of nature, I beseech you.

Ca.s.silanes:

Pish, you cozen Your hopes: your plots are idle: I am resolute.

Erota:

_Antinous_, urge no further.

Antinous:

Hence thou Sorcery Of a beguiling softness, I will stand, Like the earths center, unmov'd; Lords your breath Must finish these divisions: I confess Civility doth teach I should not speak Against a Lady of her birth, so high As great _Erota_, but her injuries And thankless wrongs to me, urge me to cry Aloud for justice, Fathers.

Decius:

Whither run you?

Antinous:

For (honoured fathers) that you all may know That I alone am not unmatchable In crimes of this condition, lest perhaps You might conceive, as yet the case appears, That this foul stain, and guilt runs in a bloud; Before this presence, I accuse this Lady Of as much vile ingrat.i.tude to me.

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