A Select Collection of Old English Plays Volume Vii Part 6

_Before this act_ MEGAERA _riseth out of h.e.l.l, with the other furies_, ALECTO _and_ TYSIPHONE _dancing an h.e.l.lish round; which done, she saith_:

MEGAERA. Sisters, begone, bequeath the rest to me, That yet belongs unto this tragedy.

[_The two furies depart down_.

Vengeance and death from forth the deepest h.e.l.l I bring the cursed house, where Gismund dwells.

Sent from the grisly G.o.d, that holds his reign In Tartar's ugly realm, where Pelops' sire (Who with his own son's flesh, whom he had slain, Did feast the G.o.ds) with famine hath his hire; To gape and catch at flying fruits in vain, And yielding waters to his gasping throat; Where stormy Aeol's son with endless pain Rolls up the rock; where Tytius hath his lot To feed the gripe that gnaws his growing heart;[68]

Where proud Ixion, whirled on the wheel, Pursues himself; where due deserved smart The d.a.m.ned ghosts in burning flame do feel-- From thence I mount: thither the winged G.o.d, Nephew to Atlas that upholds the sky, Of late down from the earth with golden rod To Stygian ferry Salerne souls did guide, And made report how Love, that lordly boy, Highly disdaining his renown's decay, Slipp'd down from heaven, and filled with fickle joy Gismunda's heart, and made her throw away Chasteness of life to her immortal shame: Minding to show, by proof of her foul end, Some terror unto those that scorn his name.

Black Pluto (that once found Cupid his friend In winning Ceres' daughter, queen of h.e.l.ls;) And Parthie, moved by the grieved ghost Of her late husband, that in Tartar dwells, Who pray'd due pains for her, that thus hath lost All care of him and of her chast.i.ty.

The senate then of h.e.l.l, by grave advice Of Minos, Aeac, and of Radamant, Commands me draw this hateful air, and rise Above the earth, with dole and death to daunt The pride and present joys, wherewith these two Feed their disdained hearts; which now to do, Behold I come with instruments of death.

This stinging snake, which is of hate and wrath, I'll fix upon her father's heart full fast, And into hers this other will I cast, Whose rankling venom shall infect them so With envious wrath and with recureless woe, Each shall be other's plague and overthrow.

"Furies must aid, when men surcease to know Their G.o.ds: and h.e.l.l sends forth revenging pain On those whom shame from sin cannot restrain."

ACT IV., SCENE 2.

MEGAERA _entereth into the palace, and meeteth with_ TANCRED _coming out of_ GISMUNDA'S _chamber with_ RENUCHIO _and_ JULIO, _upon whom she throweth her snake_.[69]

TANCRED. G.o.ds! are ye guides of justice and revenge?

O thou great Thunderer! dost thou behold With watchful eyes the subtle 'scapes of men Harden'd in shame, sear'd up in the desire Of their own l.u.s.ts? why then dost thou withhold The blast of thy revenge? why dost thou grant Such liberty, such lewd occasion To execute their shameless villainy?

Thou, thou art cause of all this open wrong, Thou, that forbear'st thy vengeance all too long.

If thou spare them, rain then upon my head The fulness of thy plagues with deadly ire, To reave this ruthful soul, who all too sore Burns in the wrathful torments of revenge.

O earth, the mother of each living wight, Open thy womb, devour this wither'd corpse.

And thou, O h.e.l.l (if other h.e.l.l there be Than that I feel), receive my soul to thee.

O daughter, daughter (wherefore do I grace Her with so kind a name?) O thou fond girl, The shameful ruin of thy father's house, Is this my hoped joy? Is this the stay Must glad my grief-ful years that waste away?

For life, which first thou didst receive from me, Ten thousand deaths shall I receive by thee.

For all the joys I did repose in thee.

Which I, fond man, did settle in thy sight, Is this thy recompense--that I must see The thing so shameful and so villanous: That would to G.o.d this earth had swallowed This worthless burthen into lowest deeps, Rather than I, accursed, had beheld The sight that hourly ma.s.sacres my life?

O whither, whither fly'st thou forth, my soul?

O whither wand'reth my tormented mind?

Those pains, that make the miser[70] glad of death, Have seiz'd on me, and yet I cannot have What villains may command--a speedy death.

Whom shall I first accuse for this outrage?

That G.o.d that guideth all, and guideth so This d.a.m.ned deed? Shall I blaspheme their names-- The G.o.ds, the authors of this spectacle?

Or shall I justly curse that cruel star, Whose influence a.s.sign'd this destiny?

But may that traitor, shall that vile wretch live, By whom I have receiv'd this injury?

Or shall I longer make account of her, That fondly prost.i.tutes her widow's shame?-- I have bethought me what I shall request. [_He kneels_.

On bended knees, with hands heav'd up to heaven, This, sacred senate of the G.o.ds, I crave: First on the traitor your consuming ire; Next on the cursed strumpet dire revenge; Last on myself, the wretched father, shame. [_He riseth_.

O! could I stamp, and therewithal command Armies of furies to a.s.sist my heart, To prosecute due vengeance on their souls!

Hear me, my friends; but as ye love your lives, Reply not to me; hearken and stand amaz'd.

When I, as is my wont, O fond delight!

Went forth to seek my daughter, now my death-- Within her chamber, as I thought, she was; But there I found her not--I deemed then For her disport she and her maidens were Down to the garden walk'd to comfort them; And thinking thus, it came into my mind There all alone to tarry her return: And thereupon I, weary, threw myself Upon her widow's bed, for so I thought, And in the curtain wrapp'd my cursed head.

Thus as I lay, anon I might behold Out of the vault, up through her chamber floor, My daughter Gismund bringing hand in hand The County Palurin. Alas! it is too true; At her bed's feet this traitor made me see Her shame, his treason, and my deadly grief-- Her princely body yielded to this thief; The high despite whereof so wounded me That, trance-like, as a senseless stone I lay; For neither wit nor tongue could use the mean T'express the pa.s.sions of my pained heart.

Forceless, perforce, I sank down to this pain, As greedy famine doth constrain the hawk Piecemeal to rend and tear the yielding prey: So far'd it with me in that heavy stound.

But now what shall I do? how may I seek To ease my mind, that burneth with desire Of dire revenge? For never shall my thoughts Grant ease unto my heart, till I have found A mean of vengeance to requite his pains, That first convey'd this sight unto my soul.-- Renuchio!

RENUCHIO. What is your highness' will?

TANCRED. Call my daughter: my heart boils, till I see Her in my sight, to whom I may discharge All the unrest that thus distempereth me. [_Exit_ RENUCHIO.

Should I destroy them both? O G.o.ds, ye know How near and dear our daughter is to us.

And yet my rage persuades me to imbrue My thirsty hands in both their trembling bloods, Therewith to cool my wrathful fury's heat.

But, Nature, why repin'st thou at this thought?

Why should I think upon a father's debt To her that thought not on a daughter's due?

But still, methinks, if I should see her die, And therewithal reflex her dying eyes Upon mine eyes, that sight would slit my heart: Not much unlike the c.o.c.katrice, that slays The object of his foul infections, O, what a conflict doth my mind endure!

Now fight my thoughts against my pa.s.sions: Now strive my pa.s.sions against my thoughts: Now sweats my heart, now chill cold falls it dead.

Help, heavens, and succour, ye celestial powers!

Infuse your secret virtue on my soul.

Shall nature win? shall justice not prevail?

Shall I, a king, be proved partial?

"How shall our subjects then insult on us, When our examples, that are light to them, Shall be eclipsed with our proper deeds?"

And may the arms be rented from the tree, The members from the body be dissever'd?

And can the heart endure no violence?

My daughter is to me mine only heart, My life, my comfort, my continuance; Shall I be then not only so unkind To pa.s.s all nature's strength, and cut her off?

But therewithal so cruel to myself, Against all law of kind to shred in twain The golden thread that doth us both maintain?

But were it that my rage should so command, And I consent to her untimely death, Were this an end to all our miseries?

No, no, her ghost will still pursue our life, And from the deep her bloodless, ghastful spirit Will, as my shadow in the s.h.i.+ning day, Follow my footsteps, till she take revenge.

I will do thus: therefore the traitor dies, Because he scorned the favour of his king, And our displeasure wilfully incurr'd: His slaughter, with her sorrow for his blood, Shall to our rage supply delightful food.

Julio--

JULIO. What is't your majesty commands?

TANCRED. Julio, if we have not our hope in vain, Nor all the trust we do repose in thee, Now must we try, if thou approve the same.

Herein thy force and wisdom we must see, For our command requires them both of thee.

JULIO. How by your grace's bounty I am bound Beyond the common bond, wherein each man Stands bound unto his king: how I have found Honour and wealth by favour in your sight, I do acknowledge with most thankful mind.

My truth (with other means to serve your grace, Whatever you in honour shall a.s.sign) Hath sworn her power true va.s.sal to your hest: For proof let but your majesty command, I shall unlock the prison of my soul; Although unkindly horror would gainsay, Yet in obedience to your highness' will, By whom I hold the tenor of this life, This hand and blade will be the instruments To make pale death to grapple with my heart.

TANCRED. Well, to be short, for I am griev'd too long By wrath without revenge, I think you know Whilom there was a palace builded strong For war within our court, where dreadless peace Hath planted now a weaker entrance.

But of that palace yet one vault remains Within our court, the secret way whereof Is to our daughter Gismund's chamber laid: There is also another mouth hereof Without our wall, which now is overgrown; But you may find it out, for yet it lies Directly south a furlong from our palace!

It may be known--hard-by an ancient stoop,[71]

Where grew an oak in elder days decay'd; There will we that you watch; there shall you see A villain traitor mount out of a vault.

Bring him to us; it is th'Earl Palurin.

What is his fault, neither shall you inquire, Nor list we to disclose. These cursed eyes Have seen the flame, this heart hath felt the fire That cannot else be quench'd but with his blood.

This must be done: this will we have you do.

JULIO. Both this, and else whatever you think good.

[JULIO _departeth into the palace_.

ACT IV., SCENE 3.

RENUCHIO _bringeth_ GISMUND _out of her chamber, to whom_ TANCRED _saith_.

TANCRED. Renuchio, depart: leave us alone. [_Exit_ RENUCHIO.

Gismund, if either I could cast aside All care of thee! or if thou wouldst have had Some care of me, it would not now betide, That either thorough thy fault my joy should fade, Or by thy folly I should bear the pain Thou hast procur'd: but now 'tis neither I Can shun the grief, whom thou hast more than slain: Nor may'st thou heal or ease the grievous wound Which thou hast given me. That unstained life, Wherein I joy'd, and thought it thy delight, Why hast thou lost it? Can it be restor'd?

Where is thy widowhood, there is thy shame.