Natural Antipathies. Nature, that loves not to be questioned Why she did this, or that, but has her ends, As he and I am: if a bowl of blood I calmly beg. But by thy father's wrath, Rage from the seas, nor thy love teach them love, The fair Orithea, whom he swore he lov'd. Of players which upon the world's stage be, His warm land, well content to think thee page, But none of these Nor spungy Aydroptique Dutch shall thee displease, To walk in expectation, till from thence Assail'd, fight, taken, stabb'd, bleed, fall, and die. Drawn from this arm of mine would poison thee, A draught of his would cure thee. Interest in Virtue. Why, my lord, are you so moved at this?- I have an interest in't. [Act i., Sc. 2.] [Act iii., Sc. 1.] CUPID'S REVENGE. A TRAGEDY [PUBLISHED 1615: PRODUCED 1611-12]. BY FRANCIS BEAUMONT AND JOHN FLETCHER Leucippus, the King's Son, takes to mistress Bacha, a Widow; but being questioned by his Father, to preserve her honour, swears that she is chaste. The old King admires her, and on the credit of that Oath, while his Son is absent, marries her. Leucippus, when he discovers the dreadful consequences of the deceit which he had used to his Father, counsels his friend Ismenus never to speak a falsehood in any case. Leu. My sin, Ismenus, has wrought all this ill : Be sure thou do not lie, make no excuse For him that is most near thee: never let The most officious falsehood 'scape thy tongue; Will make that seed which thou hast sown of lies, Upon thine head, as they have done on mine. [Act iii., Sc. 2.1] Leucippus and his wicked Mother-in-law, Bacha, are left alone together for the first time after her marriage with the King, his Father. Bach. He stands As if he grew there, with his eyes on earth. Sir, you and I, when we were last together, 1[Dyce's edition of Beaumont and Fletcher, vol. ii.] Kept not this distance, as we were afraid Of blasting by ourselves. Leu. Madam, 'tis true, Heaven pardon it. Bach. Amen, sir: you may think That I have done you wrong in this strange marriage. Leu. "Tis past now. Bach. But it was no fault of mine: The world had call'd me mad, had I refus'd The king; nor laid I any train to catch him ; Leu. "Tis a truth, That takes my sleep away; but would to heaven, With having you myself: but since 'tis thus, From henceforth; and not abuse his credulous age, A son owes to a mother; more than this Is not in me, but I must leave the rest To the just gods, who in their blessed time, As unexpected means to ease my grief Bach. Grown so godly? This must not be, and I will be to you Leu. Bless me, I should urge you! Bach. Nay, but swear then, that I may be at peace, For I do feel a weakness in myself That can deny you nothing; if you tempt me, And run to meet it. Leu. If you knew how far It were from me, you would not urge an oath. But for your satisfaction, when I tempt you Bach. Swear not. I cannot move him. This sad talk Of things past help, does not become us well. Shall I send one for my musicians, and we'll dance? Leu. "Tis true: what then? Bach. What then? You make my smiling now break into laughter: What think you is to be done then? Leu. We should pray to heaven for mercy. To pass the time. Leu. I dare not think I understand you. Leu. Kiss you? Bach. Yes, be not asham'd: Come kiss me. You did it not yourself; I will forgive you. Leu. Keep, you displeased gods, the due respect I ought to bear unto this wicked woman, As she is now my mother: haste within me, Bach. Leave these melancholy moods, Leu. Pray leave this wicked talk: You do not know to what my father's wrong Bach. I am careless, and do weigh The world, my life, and all my after hopes, Thy love, as I have had it, free and open As wedlock is within itself, what say you? Bach. Pity me, behold a duchess Kneels for thy mercy. What answer will you give? Leu. They that can answer must be less amaz'd Than I am now: you see my tears deliver My meaning to you. Bach. Shall I be contemn'd ? Thou art a beast, worse than a savage beast, Leu. "Tis your will, heaven: but let me bear me Bach. How fond was I To beg thy love! I'll force thee to my will. Leu. All you have nam'd, but making of me sin That is due from me to my father's wife. Bach. Lord, how full of wise formality you're grown Of late! but you were telling me, You could have wish'd that I had married you; If you will swear so yet, I'll make away The king. Leu. You are a strumpet. Bach. Nay I care not For all your railings: they will batter walls And take in towns as soon as trouble me: Tell him; I care not; I shall undo you only, Leu. I appeal to you, Still, and for ever, that are and cannot be other. Madam, I see 'tis in your power To work your will on him: and I desire you To lay what trains you will for my wish'd death, |