Selected quad for the lemma: cause_n
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A11155
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A tragedy called All's lost by lust. Written by William Rowley. Divers times acted by the Lady Elizabeths Servants. And now lately by her Maiesties Servants, with great applause, at the Phœnix in Drury Lane; All's lost by lust
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Rowley, William, 1585?-1642?
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1633
(1633)
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STC 21425; ESTC S116285
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36,932
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72
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for once And once shall serve for all if it but take And that she bed with me not for the act For there your honour must be weighed but company Shall serve the turne then rise I and proclaime Both our luxurious sin 〈…〉 how 〈◊〉 she then Claime any part in you Ant. T is a strange extreameâ— Laz. Vlcers must have co 〈…〉 sives to eate not skinde Extreames must have extreames to coape withall It will not yeeld else Ant. I like it and allow it T is more then water that must fight with wilde fire This passage shall be inst 〈…〉 ly preparde With some of my wearings brought as neare my selfe As art can make this Ring to strengthen it I could subtract a third from my estate To heale her iniury and quite blot out That taints mine honour being voyc't It must be curde pardon heaven and Margaret There is an innate falling from what 's good Which nothing can repaire in 's but our bloud Exeunt Actus quartus Enter 〈◊〉 with 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 and 〈◊〉 Iul. THat I should ten leagues be in scorne remov'de From Court unto my countrey house for what T is very strange know you the cause Pia. Not I my Lord Iul. I cry you mercy Sir and my king mercy And I beshrew my thoughts for be 〈…〉 g troubled I know the canst my selfe his grâ—ce is wise For seeing me on a 〈◊〉 of 〈◊〉 So eye-able to the world the 〈◊〉 slaves The multitude in their loud be 〈…〉 g voyces Might adde so much to me Sir as might dim His owne proper 〈◊〉 for such 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 see The present 〈◊〉 〈…〉 or 〈◊〉 He gives me safety 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Himselfe much worth and honour for Sir what honour Can subiects have but is 〈…〉 Due 〈◊〉 their Crowne◠〈…〉 I do app 〈…〉 〈◊〉 〈…〉 Pia. Your prisoners must be sent 〈◊〉 too my Lord Iul. Ha my prisoners 〈◊〉 goâ—â— somewhat further Sir I befe 〈…〉 yoâ— this day 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Your selfe into our 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 nobly 〈◊〉 The 〈…〉 go 〈◊〉 the 〈◊〉 â—oo This very night 〈◊〉 answer and confirme What he commands Pia. To morrow I must returne Exit 〈◊〉 Iul. You shall 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 I pray be merry with us Commandâ—d 〈◊〉 â—he Co 〈…〉 my prisoners sent for T is strange oh my forgetfull m 〈…〉 ry I did not aske how my 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 But she forgets too mindes not me her father We 'le mixe 'um both together but my prisoners Enter a Servant Serv. Sir here 's a woman forcde by some tide of sorrow With teares intreats your pitty and to see you Iul. If any souldier has done violence to her Beyond our military discipline Death shall divide him from us Fetch her in Exit Servant I have my selfe a daugh 〈…〉 〈◊〉 on whose face But thinking I must neede be pitifull And when I ha told my conquest to my king My poore girle then shall know how for her sake I did one pious act is this the creature Enter with Iacinta Ser. Yes my Lord and a sad one Iul. Leave us a sad one The down-cast loo 〈…〉 calls up compassion in me A Coarse going to the grâ—â—e looks not more deadly Why kneelst thou art thou wrongde by any souldier Rise for this honour is not due to me Hast not a tongue to reade thy sorrowes out This booke I understand not Iacin. O my deare father Iul. Thy father who has wrongd him Iac. A great Commander Iul. Vnder me Iac. Above you Iul. Above me whose above a Generall None but the Generall of all Spaines Armies And that 's the king king Rodericke hee s all goodnesse He cannot wrong thy father Iacin. What was Tarquin Iul. A king and yet a 〈…〉 isher Iacin. Such a sinne Was in those dayes a monster 〈◊〉 〈…〉 t is common Iul. Prethee be plaine Iacin. Have not you Sir a daughter Iul. If I have not I am the wretchedst man That this day lives for all the wealth I have Lives in that childe Iacin. O for your daughters sake then heare my woes Iul. Rise then and speake 'um Iac. No let me kneele still Such a resemblance of a daughters duty Will make you mindfull of a fathers love For such my iniuries must exact from you A you would for your owne Iul. And so they do For whilst I see thee kneeling I thinke of my Iacinta Iac. Say your Iacinta then chast as the Rose Comming on sweetly in the springing bud And ne're felt heat to spread the Sommer sweet But to increase and multiply it more Did to it selfe keepe in its owne perfume Say that some rapine hand had pluckt the bloome Iacinta like that flower and ravisht her Defiling her white lawne of chastity With ugly blacks of lust what would you do Iul. O t is too hard a question to resolve Without a solemne Councell held within Of mans best understanding faculties There must be love and fatherhood and griefe And rage and many passions and they must all Beget a thing call'd vengeance but they must sit upon 't Iac. Say this were done by him that carried The fairest seeming face of friendship to your selfe Iul. We should fall out Iac. Would you in such a case respect degrees Iul. I know not that Iac. Say he were noble Iul. Impossible th' acts ignoble the Bee can breed No poyson though it sucke the iuyce of hemlocke Iac. Say a king should doo 〈…〉 were th' 〈…〉 lesse done By the greater power does Maiesty extenuate a crime Iul. Augment it rather Iac. Say then that Rodericke your king and Master To quit the honours you are bringing home Had ravisht your Iacinta Iul. Who has sent A furie in this fowle-faire shape to vexe me I ha seene that face me thinks yet know it not How darest thou speake this treason gainst my king Durst any man i th world bring me this lye By this had been in hell Rodoricke a Tarquin Iacin. Yes and thy daughter had she done her part Should be the second Lucrece view me well I am Iacinta Iul. Ha Iac. The king my ravisher Iul. The king thy ravisher oh unkingly sound He dares not sure yet in thy sullied eyes I reade a Tragicke story Enter Antonio Alonzo Medina O noble friends Our warres are ended are they not Omn. They are Sir Iul. But Spaine has now begun a civill warre And to confound me onely see you my daughter She sounds the Trumpet which draws forth my sword To be revengde Alon. On whom speake loud your wrongs Digest your choller into temperance Give your considerate thoughts the upper hand In your hot passions t will asswage the swelling Of your big heart if you have iniuries done you Revenge them and we second you Iac. Father deare father Iul. Daughter deare daughter Iac. Why do you kneele to me Sir Iul. To aske thee pardon that I did beget thee I brought thee to a shame staines all the way Twixt earth and Acheron not all the clouds The skies large canopy could they drowne the S 〈…〉 With a