Selected quad for the lemma: death_n
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A02455
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The Queene of Arragon A tragi-comedie.
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Habington, William, 1605-1654.
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1640
(1640)
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STC 12587; ESTC S120594
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37,547
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68
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of this great state a most Contagious Feaver Queene Pray no Metaphor Decast. You have invited warre to interrupt With its rude noise the musique of our peace A forraigne enemie gathers the fruite The sweate and labour of your subjects planted In the coole shadow of the Vine we pruin'd He wantonly lyes downe and roughly bids The owner presse the grape that with the juyce His blood may swell up to lascivious heates Queene My Lord I answere not th' effects of war But I must pay Castile all thankefull service For his faire charitie Decast. Doe you then Madam Reckon on mischiefe as a charitie Queene Yes such a mischiefe as is mercifull And I a Queene opprest But how dares he Whose duty ought with reverence obey And not dispute the councells of his Princesse Question my actions Whence my Lord springs this Ill tutor'd priviledge Decast. From the zeale I owe The honour of our Nation Over which Kings rule but at the Courtesie of Time Queen You are too bold And I must tell your pride It swells to insolence For were your nature Not hoodwink'd by your interest you would praise The vertue of his courage who tooke Armes To an injured Ladies rescue Decast. T was ambition Greedy to make advantage of that breach Betweene you and your people arm'd Castile Unpittyed else you might have wept away The houres of your restraint Queen Poore erring man Could thy Arts raise a tempest blacker yet Such as would fright thy selfe It could not for One moment cloud the splendor of my soule Misfortune may benight the wicked she Who knowes no guilt can sinke beneath no feare Decast. Your Majestie mistakes the humble aime Of my addresse I come not to disturbe Th' harmonious calme your soule enjoyes May pleasure Live there enthron'd till you your selfe shall wooe Death to enlarge it May felicities Great as th' Idaeas of Philosophie Waite still on your delight May fate conspire To make you rich and envied Queen Pray my Lord Explaine the riddle By the cadence of Your language I could guesse you have intents Farre gentler than your actions Decast. If your eare Great Madam would convey into your heart The story of my love My love a flame Queen Leave off this history of love and flame And honestly confesse your feares my Lord Least Castile should correct you Decast. Correct me No Madam I have forc't them t' a retreate And given my fine young Generall cause to wish He had not left his amorous attempts On Ladies to assault our Citie Queen But he is not wounded Decast. Not to death perhaps But certainely w' have open'd him a veine Will cure the Feaver of his blood Queene O stay Decast. Torment And doth she weepe I might have falne Downe from some murdering precipice to dust And mist the mercie of one teare though it Would have redeem'd me backe to life agen Accurst be that felicitie that must Depend on womans passion Queene Florentio If in my quarrell thou too suddenly Art lost i th' shades of death ô let me finde The holy vault where thy pale earth must lye There I will grow and wither Decast. This is strange My heart swells much too bigge to be kept in Queen But if that Providence which rules the world Hath to preserve the stocke of vertue kept Thee yet alive Decast. And what if yet alive Pray recollect your reason and consider My long and faithfull service to your crowne The fame of my progenitors and that Devotion the whole Kingdome beares me How Hath nature punisht me that bringing all The strength of argument to force your judgement I cannot move your love Queen My Lord you plead With so much arrogance and tell a story So gallant for your selfe as if I were Exposed a prize toth ' cunningst Orator Decast. No Madam humbler far than the tand slave kneeles Tyed to the Oare I heere throw downe my selfe And all my victories Dispose of me To death for what hath life merits esteeme What tye Alas can I have to the World Since you disdaine my love Floria. Will you permit The Generall kneele so long Queen Feare not Floriana My Lord knowes how to rise though I should strive To hinder it Decast. Here statue-like I le fix For ever till your pity for your love I must despaire enforce a life within me Alarum and Enter Ossuna Ossuna O my Lord To arme to arme The enemie encouraged By a strange leader wheel'd about the towne And desperately surpris'd the carelesse guard One gate 's already theirs Decast. Have I your licence Queen To augment your owne command and keepe me still An humble captive Decast. Madam your disdaine Distracts me more than all th' assaults of fortune Exeunt all but the Queene Floriana and Cleantha Queen My fate O whether dost thou leade me Why Is my youth destin'd to the stormes of warre What is my crime you heavenly powers that it Must challenge blood for expiation Clean. Madam Queen Fortune O cruell For which side soe're Is lost I suffer either in my people Or slaughter of my friends No victory Can now come welcome the best chance of warre Makes me how ere a mourner Cleant. Madam you Have lost your vertue which so often vowed A cleere aspect what cloud soever darken'd Your present glory Queen I had thoughts Cleantha But they are vanisht what shall we invent To take off feare and trouble from this houre Poore Floriana Thou art trembling now With thought of wounds and death to which the courage Of thy feirce husband like a headstrong jade May runne away with him But cleere thy sorrowes If he fall in this quarrell thou shalt have Thy choise 'mong the Castilian Lords And give My judgement faith there be brave men emong them Flor. Madam I have vowed my life to a Cloyster Should I survive my Lord Queen And thou art fearefull Thou shalt be forc't to make thy promise good Alasse poore soule Inclosure and course dyet Much Disciple and early prayer will ill Agree with thy complection There 's Cleantha She hath a heart so wean'd from vanitie To her a Nunnery would be a Pallace Clean. Yes if your Majestie were Abbesse Madam But Cloyster up the fine young Lords with us And ring us up each midnight to a Masque In steed of Mattins And I stand prepar'd To be profest without probation Drum beats Flor. Harke What noyse is that Queen T is that of death and mischiefe My griefes but I le discemble them Yet why Cleantha being the sole beautious Idoll Of all the superstitious youth at Court Remainst thou yet unmarried Cleant. Madam I Have many servants but not one so valiant As dares attempt to marry me Queen There 's not a wit but under some feign'd name Implores thy beauty sleepe cannot close up Thy eyes but the sad world benighted is Or else their sonnets are Apocriphall And when thou wakest the Larke salutes the day Breaking from the bright East of thy faire eyes And if mong thy admirers
THE QUEENE OF ARRAGON A Tragi-Comedie LONDON Printed by Tho. Cotes for William Cooke and are to be sold at his shop at Furnivals Inne gate in Holburne 1640 The Actors Names THe Queene of Arragon Decastro Generall of the Forces of Arragon in love with the Queene Ossuna Friend to Decastro Florentio Generall of the Forces of Castile enamor'd on the Queene Velasco a great Commander under Florentio Ascanio the King of Castile disguisd Lerma a Noble man Privie to his disguise Oniate a sober Courtier Sanmartino a halfe witted Lord Browfilldora Dwarfe to Sanmartino Floriana wife to Sanmartino Cleantha a wittie Court Lady Captaine Servants Severall Souldiers The Prologue at Court HAd not obedience ov'r rul'd the Authors feare And Iudgement too this humble peece had nere Approacht so high a Majestie not writ By the exact and subtile rules of wit Ambitious for the splendor of this night But fashion'd up in hast for his owne delight This by my Lord with as much zeale as ere Warm'd the most loyall heart is offered here To make this night your pleasure although we Who are the Actors feare t will rather be Your patience and if any mirth we may sadly suspect t will rise quite the wrong way But you have mercy sir and from your eye Bright Madam never yet did lightning flye But vitall beames of favour such as give A growth to all who can deserve to live Why should the Authour tremble then or we Distresse our hopes and such tormentors be Of our owne thoughts since in those happie times We live when mercie 's greater than the crimes The Prologue at the Fryers ERe we begin that no man may repent Two shillings and his time the Author sent The Prologue with the errors of his Play That who will may take his money and away First for the Plot it 's no way intricate By crosse deceits in love nor so high in state That we might have given out in our Play-bill This day 's the Prince writ by Nick Machivill The Language too is easie such as fell Unstudyed from his pen not like a spell Bigge with misterious words such as inchant The halfe witted and confound the ignorant Then what must needes afflict the Amorist No Virgin here in breeches casts a mist Before her Lovers eyes No Ladies tell How their blood boyles how high their veines doe swell But what is worse no bawdy mirth is here The wit of bottle Ale and double Beere To make the wife of Citizen protest And Country Iustice sweare t was a good Iest Now sirs you have the errors of his wit Like or dislike at your owne perills be 't THE QVEENE OF ARRAGON Actus Primus Scena Prima Enter Sanmartino and Cleantha Clean. MY Lord le ts change the subject Love is worne So thred-bare out of fashion and my faith So little leanes to vowes San. The rage of time Or sicknesse first must ruine that bright Fabrique Nature tooke pride to build Clean. I thanke my youth then For th' tender of your service T is the last Good turne it did me But by this my feares Instruct me when the old bald man cal'd Time Comes stealing on me and shall steale away What you call beauty my neglected face Must be inforc't to goe in quest for a new Knight Errant San. Slander not my constant faith Nor doubt the care fate hath to stoppe the Motion Of envious Time might it indanger so Supreame a beautie Clean. Sure my Lord fate hath More serious businesse or Divines make bold T' instruct us in a scisme But grant I could Induce my selfe which I despaire I shall To heare and talke that emptie nothing Love I st now in season when an Armie lyes Before our Citie gates and every houre A battery expected Deere my Lord Let 's seale our testament and prepare for heaven And as I am inform'd by them who seeme To know some part o th' way Loves not the neerest Path that leades thither San. Madam he is but A Coward Lover whom or death or hell Can fright from 's Mistris And for danger now Threatning the Citie How can I so arme My selfe as by your favour proofe against All stratagems of warre Cleant. Your Lordship then Shall walke as safe as if a Lapland witch You will not envie me the honour of The metaphor preserv'd you shot-free But Who is your Confessor Yet spare his name His function will forgive the glory of it Sure he 's ill read in Cases to allow A married Lord the freedome of this Courtship San. Can you thinke Madam that I trust my sinnes But vertues are those loves I pay your beauty Toth ' councell of a Cassock Who hath art To judge of my confession must have had At least a Privie Chamberer to his Father We of the Court commit not as the vulgar Dull ignorant sinnes Then that I 'm married Madam Is rather safety to our Love Clean. My heart How sicke am I o th' sudden Good my Lord Call your dwarfe hither San. Garaganta Boy Enter Browfilldora Clean. Preethee thy pedegree San. Madam What meane you Clean. O any thing but to divert from Love Another word of Courtship and I swound Garag. My Ancestors were Giants Madam Giants Pure Spanish who disdain'd to mingle with The blood of Goth or Moore Their mighty actions In a small letter Nature Printed on Your little Servant Clean. How so very little Gar. By the decay of Time and being forc't From fertile pastures to the barren hills Of Biskay Even in trees you may observe The wonder which transplanted to a soile Lesse happie lose in groath Is not the once Huge body of the Roman Empire now A very Pigmie Cleant. But why change you not That so Gigantick name of Brumfilldora Gar. Spight of malignant Nature I le preserve The memory of my forefathers They shall live In me contracted San. Madam le ts returne To th' love we last discourst on Clean. This my Lord Is much more serious What course thing is that Enter Oniate and Floriana Flor. I owe you sir for th' pleasure of this walke Oniate Madam it was to me the highest honour Exit Oniate Clean. Welcome ó welcome to redeeme me What Can the best wit of woman fancie we Have beene discoursing of Floria. Sure not of love Clean. Of that most ridiculous hobby horse Love That foole that fooles the world That Spaniell Love That fawnes the more t is kickt San. Will you betray me Clean. Thy Lord hath so protested Floriana Vowed such an Altar to my beutie swoare So many oathes and such prophane oathes too To be religious in performing all That 's impious toward heaven and to a Ladie Most ruinous Floria. Good Cleantha all your detraction Winnes no beleefe on my suspition Cleant. Be credulous and be abused Floriana There 's no vice so great as to thinke him vertuous Goe mount your milke-white steede fit Lanceloi Your little squire attends you there In suburbs Inchanted Castles are where Ladies waite