Bellamira Yet by the consequence of this affection Thou hast destroy'd my peace of mind for ever Thou hast been ruinous and mortal to mâ— As Robbers Ravishers or Murderers Therefore be gone fly from my Eyes for ever And never let me see Palante more Gand. I go for ever from you aâ— you charge me And for that purpose I did hither come But little thought that you would drive me thus I hop'd at least that when I parted from you And bid you everlastingly farewel I hop'd but oh those flattering hopes were vain That gentle Bellamira should have sigh'd Or dropt a tear when I would take my leave And never see her more Bellam. O Cruelty You rend the Plaister from the bleeding wound Gand. An Elder Brother calâ—s you to his Bed And you perhaps will not be râ—vish'd â—hiâ—her O Bellamira I had once those Vows Which thy frail heaâ—t does now resign to Borgia But I have staid too long Faâ—ewel â—or ever When I am gone and thou for many yâ—ars Enjoy'st the Change thy Father forc'd thee to For sure I cannot think it all thy doing If happy Caesar Borgia chance to fold thee More closely in his arms then was his Custom Say to thy heart with a relenting thought Thus if your Fates had pleas'd the wretched Gandia Would thus have lov'd me But no more farewel You 're pleas'd to banish me and I 'll obey Exituâ—ns Bell. Come back come back you shall not leave me thus Let Fathers Curse and Jealous Husbands Rage Love has a force that can surmount the World Enter Borgia If then 't is destin'd that you must be gone And leave me to the Arms of Câ—uel Borgia Borg. Ha! but observe there may be more in this Bell. If we two Lovers whom â—or tenderness The World can never mâ—tch must part for ever Gand. O that for ever Borg. Iâ—'s Apparition all By Heav'n a Dream I swear a vâ—ry Dream Bell. Yet take O take this dying â—arewel with thee And whomsoe're thy Paâ—sion shall Espouse Remember O Remember thiâ— and lâ—ave me No Man was ever so by Woman lov'd As thou Palante art by Bellamira Gand. Stop theâ—e for to go on will give me Death O! thou hast utter'd Sounds oâ— such a strain As Nature cannot bear like utmost Musick Which while it charms the Sense makes chill the Blood No more for by my glimmering joys I fear Thou 'lt sing my soul to Everlasting Sleep Borg. Then let me wake you Bell. O Heav'ns we are undone Borg. Start not nor weep not beauteous Bellamira For there is nothing toward you but well Fortune her self now smiles on your design And Heav'n and Earth conspire to make you happy These Mourning Habits on your Wedding Day Had chance not guided me to hear your Loves Would have betray'd the secret Gand. O Brother what must I expect I know not Whether I ought to hope or fear Borg. Hope all For curst is he that parts whom Heav'n has joyn'd I stand convinc'd that Love has made you one And may those Chaster Fires that warm your hearts Vie with the Stars for Immortality Gand. Speak it again again confirm this goodness For one so Noble sure this World contains not O! 't is too little but to name him Noble For such a Soul aspires above the Clouds So great Ethereal and so God-like fram'd He must look down on Kings such vast compassion Such an unheard magnificence of Mercy As we must both adore Kneel Bellamira For 't is a God we talk with Borg. O you must not Methinks fair Bellamira who still answers With the accustom'd Language of her Tears Methinks you should have told me all this while Your Beauties were not doom'd for Caesar Borgia 'T is true I often fear'd by your reserv'dness Your Heart must be ingag'd Or thou Palente Had'st thou but told me when I woo'd her first How many sighs and sorrows hadst thou sav'd me I would not then have launch'd but yielded up The Noble Fraight this more than Indian Treasure And given thee all my interest in her Father Gand. Alas I fear'd Borg. I hold you Sir excus'd May you be happy as your Souls can wish But I must beg you from this place retire For your own interest Orsino here Entreated me to wait him and 't is now Upon this day allotted for my Marriage Unfit to break the business of your Loves Yet doubt not O most happy lovely Pair But Care and Time shall perfect all your Wishes Gand. Give me your Arms I had design'd this Morningâ— Made desperate with my griefs t' acquaint your Ear With all the progress of my ruin'd passion I thought that you would storm and use me ill And had design'd I know not what to forfeit My life rather than lose my Bellamira But you have so prevented me Borg. No more How fairest Bellamira not one word Am I ordain'd the Pâ—oxy of your Love Without the Breath of thanks Bell. The bounteous Heav'ns Rain on your head whole Deluges of mercies For this great goodness Hear me oh ye Powers Hear me upon my knees where-e're he goes Guard him with blessings give him his own wisheâ— If to the Wars he pass Renown attend him And growing Conquest dwell upon his Arms Let him attain by a long course of Valour And gallant acts to the old Roman Greatness And when at last in Triumph he returns May all the sighing Virgins strow his way And with new Garlands Crown his coming Glory Ex. with Gandia Enter Machiavel Mach. Something 's discover'd and I guess the business My Lord you 're wanted and the beauteous Bride Borg. I charge thee name her not upon thy life Here tear tear off these unbecoming Garments Get me my Horse and bid my Arms be ready Yes Machiavel with to morrows dawn Thou shalt behold me in another Dress Breathing Defiance to these softer Wars Mach. But why Sir why how comes this sudden change Why have you charg'd me that I should not speak Of Bellamira Borg. Cruel Machiavel Why dost thou bring the fatal Charmer back Whom I would drive for ever from my Soul Mach. This wâ—ndrous alteration of your humour Must sure arise from some as wondrous cause Have you discover'd ought Borg. All all 's discovâ—r'd And such â—n over sight in theeâ— but where Wheâ—e now is thy profound Sagacity Where aâ—l thy Dâ—posiâ—ions Promises Warâ—aâ—ts Ingâ—gâ—ments thâ—t shâ— should be mine Chastly religiously devâ—uâ—ly miâ—e Maâ—h And iâ— she not Borg. By Heav'n quiâ—e opposiâ—e Aâ—l that my boding heart presag'd to thee Bâ—fore haâ— hâ—ppen'd happen'd in such manner As quite out went my own Imagination Mach. Who e're he is that has supplanted you By your just rage he was a sâ—cret Villain The closest Traytor that e're plotted mischief And justly has deserv'd the sâ—ab you gave himâ— Borg. How Machiavel ha didst thou talk of stabbing Mach. I neither think nor know what 's youâ— intenâ—ion But that 's your Countries Custom in such cases Besides Sir when I did
I owe the best of Fathers best of Friends This day this glorious day for ever blest And never to be lost in Times dark Legend Crowns me your Son Thus then I bend my kneesâ— Which are not us'd to kneel but at the Altar And O! permit me thus to kiss your Hand And pay the Eternal Vows of my Obedience Orsin O rise my Lord all Duâ—y is out done Wiâ—h but one single bare Acknowledgment Yâ—t for a satisfaction to this Company Say do you love my Daughter Bellamira Bâ—rg Ha! what says my Father do I live O Heaven Why do you wound me with the Question Does the poor suff'ring Fair One Vertue love Who drinks the Brook and eaâ—s what Nature yields Rather than feast in Courts wiâ—h loss of Honour Do those who on the Rack for Heav'n expire Love Angels and Eternal brightness there 'T is sure they do And oh 't is full as sure That Caesar Borgia dies for Bellamira Orsin No more you Honour her and me too muchâ— Therefore this day I give her to your Arms With all the pleasure of a proud old Father O'rejoy'd to see his Daughter match'd above him By Heav'n my eyes grow full here all our Discord For ever end all Jars betwixt the Orsins Vitelli and the Duke of Valentinois Be bury'd ever in this strict Imbrace Borg. Since you will havâ— it so forgive my Dutyâ— Let me grow bold and as a Friâ—nd imbrace you Orsin See here my Lord for scarce can I distinguish Through the bright joy that dazles my weak sight Oliverotto and the Duke Graviana When Vitellozzo come to grace your Nuptials All on their knees acknowledge you their Prince Borg. My Equals all Nor shall this Homage be I swear it shall not Rise my Lords your Arms Let me imbrace you round by all things sacred I swear that none of you have been too blame Were you Confederates against my Arms You were but Borgia'â— infinite Ambition Forc'd you against your wills to let him know His head-strong Youth like a young fiery Horse Unless you kindly stop him in hiâ— speed Would hurl him from some Precipice to ruine Oâ—sin See Vitellozzo how he takes our Crimes Upon himself Borg. Behold this Child my Sonâ— I know not any thing the World callâ— precious Which in the darkness of my heart can match him But Bellamira Take him Vitellozzo Take the dear blood that trickles from my heart The very strings that wind about my life And let him for my part be Surety As beautious Bellamira is for yours Orsin Farewell my Lord with these Attendance here I go to haste the Bride and let my life Be answer for the little Seraphino Ex. Orsin Vitelli. Ascan. He has her now that delicate bit of Beauty Which I reserv'd for my own Letchery He drills her from her old deluded Sire Hell and she melts she melts into hiâ— mouth But by my Holy-Dame I 'll be reveng'd On every part of him His little Bastard Because he doats on him shall streight be mangled I 'll do 't I say Yes by my Holy Dame I will revenge my loss of Letchery Ha! what a jerk was that it grates my bones Pray Heav'n it ben't a Spice a little Tang Of the Neapolitan Itch O my Holy-Dame Ex. with Cardinals Borg. Now Machiavel prepare to hear my Soul Hear to what softness and effeminate mourning All my dear Victories at last are melted For I will tell thee though thou'lt scarce believe Since first I saw the Charming Bâ—llamira The very Image of Charlotta's scorn I have not had one hour of Free repose Ev'n when at last I have resolv'd to joyn Our hands and trust her with my tender glory I 've started from my Bed at midnight rose And wandeâ—'d by the Moon Then laid me down Upon some dewy bank and slept till morn Mach. Therefore there must be some strange Circumstance That first induc'd those fears some dang'rouâ— hint For your suspitions Borg. Yes Machiavâ—l There is there is a cause for my suspitions Mach. Are you sure of it Borg. Most sure I am Sure aâ— reserv'dness does imply aversion Yet I as if my flames were fire in Frost The more she cools scorch rage and burns the more Mach. I guesâ— your meaning like Charlotta she Has pawn'd her heart but 't is confess'd you know him Borg. Ha! did I know the name of him I dread What God in Armâ— should save him from my Sword Here thou hast rouz'd the Lion in my heart Italian spite revenge and blasting fury Devouâ—s my Soul all mildness sleeps like Death I boil like Drunkards Veins Death Hell and Vengeance Mach. Suppress this Fury Câ—me come my Lord I find your are better skill'd In Camps then Courts and know not yet Loves World She is reserv'd you say when you approach her Why let her weep too was it ever known A subtle Pride laugh'd on her Wedding Day Or clasp'd her love in the eye o' th world I find you are unlearn'd Sir 't is their Trade The very Nature Soul and Life-blood of 'em To whineâ— and cry and turn their heads away When their hearts dote on what they seem to scorn Borg. If it were so Mach. Why it was always so Is so and will be so to the worlds end Give me your hand and take her on my word I have been bred in Courts sounded the humours Even of all Women-kind Therefore advise you Repair immediately to old Orsino Who with his Beauteous Daughter waits your Coming Borg. Could she be truly mine the wings of Winds Would be too slow to waft me to her arms Mach. Once more I say she is and shall be yours Truly religiously devoutly yours Why all this thought and groundless Jealousy Let manly Confidence and Roman-Vertue Master this Gothick Fury in your blood Borg. By Arms by all the glories I have won Thou hast awak'd my Love and Charm'd my fears Charlotta O the very figure of her But sure the Beauteous Lines are softer here And now I find 't is ruine to forgo her Mach. No more my Lord. 'T is I that thus embark youâ— And if some startinâ— Plank should flâ—w the Vessel To your destruction I am ruin'd too Since all I have or am or ever would be Is to be yours your sworn unbyass'd friend Borg. Thou best of men Thou art my Oracle my Heaven my Genius And as some God shalt guide me through the World Let 's go to Conquest tho through Death we go Marriage and Death both new Experiments Methinks I see the Taper in the Window The Busie Nurse unveils the weeping Maid And I must naked pass through Seas to reach her O fatal Marriage O thou dismal Gulph Which like the Hellespona do'st rore between Me and my Joys Is there no other way None none the Winds and the dash'd Rocks reply Why let 'm roar and let the Billows swell Till the rack't Orbs be wiâ—h the Deluge drown'd 'T is fixt I 'll plunge or perish or enjoy her Mach. Justly
spread at their full length Enter Alonzo and Don Michael D. Mich. ARE these the Presents say'st thou of the late New Cardinal Ascanio Sforza Alonz. They are he offers thus to Machiavel And thinks that Gold may bribe him to betray The Duke Valentinois But Michael tell me What does the World report of this Creation Does it not rail and gâ—in and bite the Pope D. Mich. Has it not Reason For betwixt our selves Would any man in his high Dignity So vilely sell the Glories of the Church Twelve Cardinals at once created Ascanio first because he bids him most A fine effeminate Villain bred in Brothels Senseless illiterate the Jear of Rome A blot to the whole See! One fitter far For Hospitals that paints and patches up A wretched Carkass worried in the Stews But see the gaudy Pageant moves this way How spruce he looks and with a Pocked Glass Surveys the gloating Image Alonz. All Luxury I heard the night succeeding his Creation That he got drunk and kiss'd the Prelates round For joy But see he comes retire and leave me Ex. D. Mich. Enter Ascanio Sforza Ascan. Well Borgiâ— well if I am not reveng'd Was there none else in Rome but Bellamira Ah Bella Bella Bella Bella Bellamira I saw her first at Mass as I remember Cherubin and Seraphin were nothing to her Oh such a skin full of alluring flesh Ah such a ruddy moist and pouting Lip Such Dimples and such Eyes such melting Eyes Blacker than Sloes and yet they sparkl'd fire Then such a way she had to roul 'em round As thus and thus a thousand amorous ways And wink and gloat and turn 'em to the corners Alonz. My Noble Lord Ascan. My dear my dear Alonz Nay let me greet thee 't was the Father's Custom But tell me lovely dear Alonzo tell me Thou hast the softest fine Complexion for A Lover best take heed of walking late Tell me I say or I will pinch thy Cheek Moves he this way or does he teem alone With some state Birth if so I 'll wait agen Alonz. Whom does your Eminence intend Ascan. Thy Lord Whom should I mean intend or think of else Thy Lord and mine Well he 's an Oracle intend Why man I dream of nothing else Alonz. But Wenches Ascan. O Machiavel there there 's a word a sound An Air a blast a Thunder-clap of wit To rouse our Foggy thick-scull'd Cardinals I 'll say no more Would he were Popâ— Head of the Christian World and I his Engine His particular member to bring to cast To throw disperse convey the warmest Sprinklings of his benediction Alonz. My Lord I humbly offer'd your Address While with an eye swift as the Sun and piercing He ran your Letter o're and sure it stirr'd him For strait he turn'd and darting me he ask'd If the great Cardinal meaning you my Lord Which shews the deep respect he bears your Person Knew not that Borgia was his best of Friends Borgia he cry'd again to whom the Lords Of Florence sent me their Ambassadour With promis'd aid against the Rebel Orsins Ascan. Has he receiv'd stay I say has he here Open thy Fist now gripe me fast and tell me Alonz. I durst not name your Presents But bowing soon retir'd and plac'd em here That as he follows he may view at once All your Magnificence if ought of Earth His temper holds this lightning will dissolve it But see He comes be pleas'd Sir to retire And you shall hear the Zeal with which I serve you Enter Machiavel Mach. Thus have I drawn the platform of their Fates As oft I have beheld by Masters hands A Tale in painting admirably told Here a soft Dido stabb'd into the breast A Hero there thrown headlong from a Window To meet her Lover wrack'd upon the Shore So have I form'd in more than Brass or Marble The Deaths of those whom I intend to hush O Caesar Borgia such a Name and Nature That is my second self a Machiavel A Prince who by the vigor of this brain Shall rise to the old height of Roman Tyrants Alonz. He deeply thinks nor dare I interrupt him Till he comes forward Ascan. Peace and give him way Oh such a Head-pieceâ—â— Mach. In all my strict enquiries all the Humours Which I have drain'd with more than Chymists pains I have not found a temper so compleat To finish forth a greatness as my Caesar's First he 's a Bastard got in a fit of Nature She shook him from her Nerves in a Convulsion His Father stampt the Bullion in a heat And taking from the Mint the fiery ore His Image blest and cry'd it is my own Yet more a Priest begot him and 't is thought That Earth is more oblig'd to Priests for Bodies Than Heav'n for Souls nay and a young Priest too Perhaps in the Embraces of a Nun Who ventur'd life to clasp the lusty joy Ascan. Oh if a man could but hear him now Brain all brain Alas Alonzo we are stuff to him Meer Entrails but the Guts of Government Nothing to him hark he goes on Mach. Why what a start of Nature is this man Whom by Ambition not by Love I 'll raise Therefore Ascanio's new golden World I gravely take for ruine to the Bride To her old doting Father Broâ—hers Uncles And the whole Race of Orsin and Viâ—elli Is sixt by Fate and me No more the fleeâ—ing Air May catch the sounds and walls themselves have ears Alonz. My Lord the Cardinal Ascanio coming 〈◊〉 bowing Is planted to your order Mach. Let him hear us Urge me no more for â—is impossibleâ— Alonz. My Lord he thinks not so He says your Voice is as the mouth of Heav'n Stiles you a God and in the extravagance Of his unbounded admiration swears Nothing to you can be impossible Mach. Extravagance indeed Yet such extravagance expresses love And merits all my thâ—nks and had he mention'd Ought but the ruine of my best Friends I would with all the Wings of expedition Have shot through 1â—00 bars to do him service Alonz. My Lord he does not hint at Borgia's ruine Mach. Does he not wish that I should break the Nuptials 'T is sure the Marriage I at first dislik'd I pierc'd â—he Charmer with a narrow eye And found how Wit and Beauty threatn'd in her With all the subtlest graces that might â—ull Stubborn ambition to inglorious rest But love already had perform'd his part And laid the Warring Borgia at her Feet How then should I oppose his first Enjoyment Who was his Legate and sollicited The Parents of the beauteous Bellamira Alonz. At least Sir for the future lay some block That may disturb the progress of their loves And since you have alledg'd 't is for his glory This Marriage were undone since it is done Let it be hurtful in the consequence Mach. Thus I should prove indeed a Friend to Florence Who hate Orsino's Race Nay I should act The truest Part of Friendship to my Borgia Snatching this Soft'ner from
discourse you last You fell into Convulsions of Despair With mentioning the very name of Rival And thundâ—r'd out whole Volleys of revenge Borg. Tâ—ue Machiavel but could not think my Rival Shâ—uld prove my Brother Mach. Ha! Borg. Raise raise me Heav'n Some other Man that dares to take her from me To snatch the only Beauty I can love And at the Altar too from my imbraces If I not end him though he were Imperial Ev'n in the middle of his Guards Mach Your Brother And have you Confiâ—maâ—ion that she loves him Borg. Why dost thou wondeâ— I both saw and heard Heaâ—d all his Vows and her most passionate Answers She loves him Yes these cursed Remâ—mbrancers These eyes have seen it O! she dotes on him Feeds on his looks eyes him as pregnant Women Gaze at the precious thing their Souls are set on Mach. And you pâ—rhaps will bear it from a Brother With all the meekness of an Anchorite A man of quite another Worldâ— you 'd best Go to the Wars be shot and leave this Brother The Heir of all sole Darling of the Pope Borg. 'T is certain that I seem'd to all appearance Mild and relenting bâ—gg'd 'em leave me here That I might think Mach. Think by your Holy Father You have no blood no soul nor spirit left The Genius of your House must blush at this A Brother why so much the more a Villain Borg. O Machiavel Mach. O Conscientious Borgia By all that 's great it is in him flat Incest There 's â—or your Conscience if you will have Conscience She was betroth'd yours by her Father's Will Publish'd to the World and what else makes a Marriage And for a Brother thus to undermine you And carry it too Are you Italian born Begot by one O make it not a doubt I grieve I groan I am mad to see you thus What to be made the talk the jeer of Rome As once you were at Paris by Charlotta No I 'll revenge thee cold as thou art and dead And may this Steel be sheath'd in Machiavel If that the treacherous Duke of Gandia scape me Exiturns Borg. Come back I say for what is to be done I 'll act my self Where was I or where am I No Machiavel thou know'st 't is not my Conscience That lets the Villain live I think thou hast heard The fatal Jars w'have had about my Sister For I remember being in her Bath And by her Women told we were at words She ran in haste half naked to the Pope Who came to part the fray and swore in fury With horrid Imprecations who-e're sell By th'oâ—hers hand he never would have mercy On the Surviver This my Machiavel Is Borgia's Conscience For to do a murdâ—r And not be safe is Drunkards policy Mach. What then is your intent Borg. To follow Nature For so do Flames that burn and Seas that drown Yes Machiavel and care not what comes on 't So when security and black occasion Point me to death I will be rough as those And blood him till he changes to a Ghost Yet since my Fathers threats bar present murder I 'll find a way to rack him Mach. Ha! you mean To take again your beauteous Prize that is The lovely Bellamira still retains Some holds about your heart Borg. O 't is confess'd And howsoe're my Tongue has plaid the Braggart She Reigns more fully in my Soul than ever She Garrisons my Breast and Mans against me Even my own Rebel thoughts with thousand Graces Ten thousand Charms and new discover'd Beauties O! hadst thou seen her when she lately blest me What tears what looks and languishings she darted Love baâ—h'd himself in the distilling Balm And oh the subtle God has made his entrance Quiâ—e through my heart he shouts and triumphs too And all his Cry is Death or Bâ—llamira Mach. Why this is like the Spirit of your Father You bring his graceâ—ul vigour just before me Just just as first he wore the triple Crown Just so he walk'd just with that fiery Movement So sparkled too his eyes so glow'd his Cheeks Nor fear Palente when she 's in your Arms When she perceives the fervour of your passion Panting upon her naked Breasts for Mercy Borg. Sighing as if my very Soul would burst And gasping Machiavel as if Deaths pangs were on me Mach. Now stealing to her Lips dissolv'd in Tears And pressing close but softly to her side Whispering O why why gentle Bellamira Then with a sudden start let loose your love Grasp her as if you could no longer bear it Clasp her all Night and stifle her with Kisses O there are Thousand ways Borg. Ten Thousand Thousand Millions and infinite yet add to those I 'll try 'em all nor shall a drop of mercy Fall from my Eyes though I beheld Palante Dead at her Door O expectation burns me O Bellamira heart how she does inflame me Mach. Then there 's no need of warlike preparations Borg. Talk no more of War for now my Theme's all Love The War like Winter vanishes 't is gone And Bellamira with eternal Spring Drest in blew Heavens and breathing Vernal Sweets Drops like a Cherubin in smiles before me Mach. Oh that the World could but behold you thus That Bellamira saw you in this height Of dazling Passion and becoming Fury Borg. Thus to a glorious Coast through Tempests hurl'd We sail like him who sought the Indian World 'T is more 't is Paradise I go to prove And Bellamira is the Land of Love I have her in my view and hark she talks And see about like the first Maid she walks Fair as the Day when first the World began And I am doom'd to be the happy man Exeunt ACT III. SCENE I. Enter Ascanio and Alonzo Alonz. MY Lord this is an Act so newly horrid So ghastly a contrivance of Revenge That Fiends themselves would start at the Proposal I to do this I who have bred him up Oh Seraphino â— Nurs'd thee in my Bosom To gash thy Cheeks and tear out both thy Eyes Ascan. The sums of Gold are order'd to be paid Half on your bare consent on Execution The whole Alonzo thou hast no compassion When Interest comes in play Don't I know At the Command of Machiavel or Borgia Thou would'st not stick to poyson ev'n the Pope Come come dissemble not thy Occupation Murder 's thy Trade and Death thy Livelihood Therefore perform this act of spritely Vengeance And I 'll Create thee Noble Alonz. 'T is sure e're long when I have serv'd their turn They will end me too for fear of talking Therefore my Lord how-e're my Conscience stings me For 't is most true I love the Innocent Boy Send home the Gold Ascan. Thou shalt along with me I will not send but pay it thee in hand Full Twenty Thousand Crowns Why what a sum is that Full Twenty Thousand Crowns Why I will tell thee there are Roguâ—s in Ordeâ—s Monks Fryers Iesuites that would kill their Fathers Ravish their
I conquer thee and shew thee mercy Never love more nor after I am marri'd Dare for thy Soul to speak of Bellamira Gand. I thank thee and accept the terms with Joy Which blood must ratifieâ— And here I swear If vanquish'd by thy Arm though Death I hope Will more than Oath confirm the fatal bargain For evâ—r to renounce all Claim and yield By my Eâ—ernal absence Bellamira Borg. Come on then And let Love and Glory steell Thy unflesh'd arm think on this moment hangs Thy whole life's Joy or worse than Death Despair I would noâ— win such Beauty without Blood But as the brave Gonsalvo being shot Mov'd not at all nor chang'd his mighty Look As if the Gallantry of such demeanour Could charm coy Victory to raise the Seige So would I with my blood distilling down Answering her tears lead Bellamira on And woo her at the Altar with my wounds Gand. No more Borg. Agreed The word is Bellamira Fight Gandia is wounded Hold hold Palante for thou bleedst Gand. A scratch Borg. My Father crys out save him on thy life Fight again Gand. Guard well thy life Borgia is wounded on the Arm but disarms Gandia Enter Machiavel Mach. What means this noise of Arms Why these Swords drawn what now my Lords Both wounded Borgia throws Gandia his Sword By Heav'n I swear you shall proceed no further Borg. 'T is now too late to tell thee how we quarrell'd Look to his wound soon as the Cure's perform'd I 'll serve the Duke of Gandia with my Fortune But far from Rome for he has agreed Never to see my Bellamira more For me I 'll to the Temple Mach. My Lord you bleed Borg. The Skin 's but rac'd Would it were deep in the most mortal part So Bellamira when the blood gush'd forth Would sink upon my breast and swear she lov'd me But that 's too much to hope what e're is doom'd I swear this night to grasp the conquer'd Prize Yes yes Palante hear and fly for ever All the white World of Bellamira's Beauty This Night I 'll travel o're to feast my Love The Little Glutton shall be gorg'd with Revels He shall be drunk with spirits of delight With all that amorous wishes can inspire And all the Liberties of loose desire Exit Gand. I 'll after him and at the Altar end him Waâ—'t not enough to wound and vanquish me But he must triumph too I rave and talk I know not what for he is generous And nobly merits what his valour won Yes happy Borgia I will keep my word And since thus lost to all that I held dear Abandon this loath'd World Mach. You must retire Gand. I will devote the sad remains of life To the blest Company of holy men Learn Contemplation and the dregs of life Purg'd off taste clearer and more sprightly joys Partake their transports in the brightest Visions See opening Heav'ns and the descending Gods Then as I view the dazling tracks of Angels Sigh to my heart and cry see there and there In full perfection thousand Bellamira's Mach. My Lord your wound bleeds fast Gand. O Machiavel When I am shut for ever from the World Thou tenderst hearted gentlest best of Friends Wilt visit me sometimes I know thou wilt Mach. Why do you droop thus lean upon my Arm All shall be well Yes I will find a way In spite of Fortune yet to heal your sorrows And pour the Balm of Bellamira's tears Upon your wound Gand. Could I but see her once Beâ—ore I die Mach. Once Twice a Hundred times Doubt not you shall but haste to your Apartment Ex. Gandia Methinks if mischief had but this to vaunt That like a God none knows her but her self It were enough to mount her o're the World I love my self and for my self I love Borgia my Prince Who does not love himself Self-love's the Universal Beam of Nature The Axle-tree that darts through all its Frame And he 's a Child in thought who fears the sting Of Conscience and will rather lose himself Than make his Fortune by another's ruine Conscience the Bug-bears roar the Nurses howl Our Infant lash and whip of Education Enter Adornaâ— My Genius my Love my little Angel Hast thou the Letters Adorn First my Lord If I have breath to utter let me tell you Never was Marriage solemniz'd like this Mach. Go on Adorn The Bride in Mourning Robes was led Or rather born like a pale Course along I saw her when she first approach'd the Temple How rushing from the arms of those that held her She threw her Body on the Marble steps When straâ—t the Bridegroom with a kindled Face Draw near and blushing stretcht his bloody Aâ—m Wrapt in a Scarf and gave it to the Bride Then bowing wish'd the Priest perform his Duty Mach. What follow'd Adorn Urg'd or rather brib'd before The Priest at Old Orsino's Intercession Soon joyn'd their Hands all from the Temple haste Oâ—sino and his Son in deep Discourse And Bellamira blind with weeping led This way Mach. I am glad on 't for I wait to speak with her Prithee produce the Letâ—ers Come I know Thou hast 'em nay 't is thy own interest Adorn See Bellamira enters stay some time And I 'll discover to your own desire Enter Bellamira Mach. Madam I would entreat a word in private Bell. Can misery like mine be worth discourse Mach. The dead are only happy and the dying The dead are still and lasting slumbers hold 'em He who is near his Death but turns about Shuffles a while to make his Pillow easie Then slips into his Shroud and rests for ever Bella. My Mind presages by the bloody hand That seiz'd me at the Altar Mach. In their Nonage A Sympathy unusual joyn'd their loves They pair'd like Turtles still together drank Together eat nor quarrell'd for the choice Like Twining-streams both from one Fountain fell And as they ran still mingled smiles and tears But oh when Time had swell'd their Currents high This boundless World this Ocean did divide 'em And now for ever they have lost each other Bella. For ever Oh the horrour that invades me Thou seem'st to imitate some horrid act I charge thee speak how fares the Duke of Gandia Not answer me why dost thou shake â—hy Head And cross thy arms and turn thy eyes away Has there been ought betwixt my Lord and him Mach. There has they fought Bella. The Cause the Cursed Cause Stands here before thy eyes she stands to blast thee I know 't is thus Borgia for me was wounded And oh my fears by his relentless handâ— Perhaps that poor despairing lost Palante Is miserably slain If it be so Spite of my Father I 'll renounce my Vows Forgo forswear all comforts in this life And fly the World Mach. Would I were out on 't Nothing but fraud and cruelties reign here He is not slain but as his Surgeons bode I fear him much Oh would you be so kind To see the Wounds he suffers