Chapter XI: Act V: Scene I

_A room in_ FERNANDO’S _house_.

FERNANDO, FRANCISCO, PEDRO, RODERIGO, CLARA,
_and_ MARIA, _pass over the stage from church:
as the others exeunt_, FERNANDO _stays_
RODERIGO.

FER. Thou hast now the wife of thy desires.
ROD. Sir, I have,
And in her every blessing that makes life
Loath to be parted with.
FER. Noble she is,
And fair; has to enrich her blood and beauty,
Plenty of wit, discourse, behaviour, carriage.
ROD. I owe you duty for a double birth,
Being in this happiness begot again,
Without which I had been a man of wretchedness.
FER. Then henceforth, boy, learn to obey thy fate;
’Tis fallen upon thee; know it, and embrace it;
Thy wife’s a wanton.
ROD. A wanton?
FER. Examine through the progress of thy youth
What capital sin,[361] what great one ’tis, for ’tis
A great one, thou’st committed.
ROD. I a great one?
FER. Else heaven is not so wrathful to pour on thee
A misery so full of bitterness:
I am thy father; think on’t, and be just;
Come, do not dally.
ROD. Pray, my lord——
FER. Fool, ’twere
Impossible that justice should rain down
In such a frightful horror without cause.
Sir, I will know it; rather blush thou didst
An act thou dar’st not name, than that it has
A name to be known by.
ROD. Turn from me then,
And as my guilt sighs out this monster,—rape,
O, do not lend an ear!
FER. Rape? fearful!
ROD. Hence,
Hence springs my due reward.
FER. Thou’rt none of mine,
Or if thou be’st, thou dost belie the stamp[362]
Of thy nativity.
ROD. Forgive me!
FER. Had she,
Poor wrongèd soul, whoe’er she was, no friend,
Nor father, to revenge? had she no tongue
To roar her injuries?
ROD. Alas, I know her not!
FER. Peace! thou wilt blaze a sin beyond all
precedent:
Young man, thou shouldst have married her; the devil
Of lust that riots in thy eye should there
Have let fall[363] love and pity, not on this stranger
Whom thou hast doted on.
ROD. O, had I married her,
I had been then the happiest man alive!

_Re-enter_ CLARA, MARIA, _and_ PEDRO, _from behind the
arras_.

CLA. As I the happiest woman, being married:
Look on me, sir.
PED. You shall not find a change
So full of fears as your most noble father,
In his wise trial, urg’d.
MAR. Indeed you shall not,
The forfeit of her shame shall be her pawn.
ROD. Why, pray, d’ye mock my sorrows? now, O, now,
My horrors flow[364] about me!
FER. No, thy comforts,
Thy blessings, Roderigo.
CLA. By this crucifix [_Shewing crucifix._
You may remember me.
ROD. Ha! art thou
That lady wrongèd?
CLA. I was, but now am
Righted in noble satisfaction.
ROD. How can I turn mine eyes, and not behold
On every side my shame!
FER. No more: hereafter
We shall have time to talk at large of all:
Love her that’s now thine own; do, Roderigo;
She’s far from what I character’d.
CLA. My care
Shall live about me to deserve your love.
ROD. Excellent Clara!—Fathers both, and mother,
I will redeem my fault.
FER. }
PED. } Our blessings dwell on ye!
MAR. }

_Re-enter_ FRANCISCO _with_ LOUIS.

LOUIS. Married to Roderigo?
FRAN. Judge yourself;
See where they are. [_Exit._
LOUIS. Is this your husband, lady?
CLA. He is, sir: heaven’s great hand, that on record
Fore-points the equal union of all hearts,
Long since decreed what this day hath been perfected.
LOUIS. ’Tis well then; I am free, it seems.
CLA. Make smooth,
My lord, those clouds, which on your brow deliver
Emblems of storm;[365] I will, as far as honour
May privilege, deserve a noble friendship,
As you from me deserve a worthy memory.
LOUIS. Your husband has prov’d himself a friend [to
me],
Trusty and tried; he’s welcome, I may say,
From the university.
ROD. To a new school
Of happy knowledge, Louis.
LOUIS. Sir, I am[366]
Not so poor to put this injury up;
The best blood flows within you is the price.
ROD. Louis, for this time calm your anger; and if
I do not give you noble satisfaction,
Call me to what account you please.
LOUIS. So, so.—I come for justice t’ye,
And you shall grant it.
FER. Shall and will.
LOUIS. With speed too;
My poor friend bleeds the whiles.
FER. You shall yourself,
Before we part, receive the satisfaction
You come for.—Who attends?
SERVANT [_within_]. My lord?
FER. The prisoner!
SERVANT [_within_]. He attends your lordship’s
pleasure.

_Enter_ CONSTANZA, GUIAMARA, _and_ ALVAREZ.

LOUIS. What would this girl?
Foh, no tricks; get you to your cabin, huswife;
We have no ear for ballads.
FER. Take her away.
CLA. A wondrous lovely[367] creature!
CONST. Noble gentlemen,
If a poor maid’s, a gipsy-virgin’s tears
May soften the hard edge of angry justice,
Then grant me gracious hearing; as you’re merciful,
I beg my husband’s life!
FER. Thy husband’s, little one?
CONST. Gentle sir, our plighted troths are chronicled
In that white book above which notes the secrets
Of every thought and heart; he is my husband,
I am his wife.
LOUIS. Rather his whore.
CONST. Now, trust me,
You’re no good man to say so; I am honest,
'Deed, la, I am; a poor soul, that deserves not
Such a bad word: were you a better man
Than you are, you do me wrong.
LOUIS. The toy grows angry!
CLA. And it becomes her sweetly; troth, my lord,
I pity her.
ROD. I thank you, sweet.[368]
LOUIS. Your husband,
You’ll say, is no thief.
CONST. Upon my conscience,
He is not.
LOUIS. Dares not strike a man.
CONST. Unworthily
He dares not; but if trod upon, a worm
Will turn again.
LOUIS. That turning turns your worm
Off from the ladder, minion.
CONST. Sir, I hope
You’re not his judge; you are too young, too choleric,
Too passionate; the price of life or death
Requires a much more grave consideration
Than your years warrant: here sit they,[369] like gods,
Upon whose head[s] the reverend badge of time
Hath seal’d the proof of wisdom; to these oracles
Of riper judgment, lower in my heart [_Kneels._
Than on my knees, I offer up my suit,
My lawful suit, which begs they would be gentle
To their own fames, their own immortal stories.
O, do not think, my lords, compassion thrown
On a base low estate, on humble people,
Less meritorious than if you had favour’d
The faults of great men! and indeed great men
Have oftentimes great faults: he whom I plead for
Is free; the soul of innocence itself
Is not more white:[370] will you pity him?
I see it[371] in your eyes, ’tis a sweet sunbeam,
Let it shine out; and to adorn your praise,
The prayers of the poor shall crown your days,
And theirs are sometimes heard.[372]
FER. Beshrew the girl,
She has almost melted me to tears!
LOUIS. Hence, trifler!—Call in my friends![373]—

_Enter_ JOHN, DIEGO, CARDOCHIA, _and Servants_.

What hope of ease?
DIEGO. Good hope, but still I smart;
The worst is in my pain.
LOUIS. The price is high
Shall buy thy vengeance: to receive a wound
By a base villain’s hand, it mad[den]s me.
JOHN. Men subject to th' extremity of law
Should carry peace about ’em to their graves;
Else, were you nobler than the blood you boast of
Could any way, my lord, derive you, know
I would return sharp answer to your slanders;
But it suffices, I am none of ought
Your rage misterms me.
LOUIS. None of ’em? no rascal?
JOHN. No rascal.
LOUIS. Nor no thief?
JOHN. Ask her that’s my accuser: could your eyes
Pierce through the secrets of her foul desires,
You might without a partial judgment look into
A woman’s lust and malice.
CARD. My good lords,
What I have articled against this fellow,
I justify for truth.
JOHN. On then, no more:
This being true she says, I have deserv’d
To die.
FER. We sit not here to bandy words,
But minister [the] law, and that condemns thee
For theft unto the gallows.
CONST. O my misery!
Are you all marble-breasted? are your bosoms
Hoop’d round with steel? to cast away a man,
More worthy life and honours than a thousand
Of such as only pray unto the shadow
Of abus’d greatness!
JOHN. ’Tis in vain to storm;
My fate is here determinèd.
CONST. Lost creature,
Art thou grown dull too? is my love so cheap
That thou court’st thy destruction ’cause I love thee?—
My lords, my lords!—Speak, Andrew, prithee, now,
Be not so cruel to thyself and me;
One word of thine will do’t.
FER. Away with him!
To-morrow is his day of execution.
JOHN. Even when you will.
CONST. Stay, man; thou shalt not go,
Here are more women yet.—Sweet madam, speak!
You, lady, you methinks should have some feeling
Of tenderness; you may be touch’d as I am:
Troth, were’t your cause, I'd weep with you, and join
In earnest suit for one you held so dear.
CLA. My lord, pray speak in his behalf.
ROD. I would,
But dare not; ’tis a fault so clear and manifest.
LOUIS. Back with him to his dungeon!
JOHN. Heaven can tell
I sorrow not to die, but to leave her
Who whiles I live is my life’s comforter.
[_Exit with Servants._
CARD. Now shall I be reveng’d!
[_Aside, and exit with_ DIEGO.
CONST. O me unhappy! [_Swoons._
FER. See, the girl falls!
Some one look to her.
CLA. ’Las, poor maid!
GUI. Pretiosa!
She does recover: mine honourable lord——
FER. In vain; what is’t?
GUI. Be pleas’d to give me private audience;
I will discover something shall advantage
The noblest of this land.
FER. Well, I will hear thee;
Bring in the girl.
[_Exeunt._ FERNANDO, MARIA, PEDRO, CLARA,
RODERIGO, GUIAMARA, _and_ CONSTANZA: ALVAREZ
_stays_ LOUIS.
LOUIS. Ought with me? what is’t?
I care not for thy company, old ruffian;
Rascal, art impudent?
ALV. To beg your service.
LOUIS. Hang yourself!
ALV. By your father’s soul, sir, hear me!
LOUIS. Despatch!
ALV. First promise[374] me you’ll get reprieve
For the condemnèd man, and by my art
I'll make you master of what your heart on earth
Can wish for or desire.
LOUIS. Thou liest; thou canst not!
ALV. Try me.
LOUIS. Do that, and then, as I am noble,
I will not only give thy friend his life,
But royally reward thee, love thee ever.
ALV. I take your word; what would you?
LOUIS. If thou mock’st me,
'Twere better thou wert damn’d!
ALV. Sir, I am resolute.
LOUIS. Resolve me, then, whether the count Alvarez,
Who slew my father, be alive or dead?
ALV. Is this the mighty matter? the count lives.
LOUIS. How?
ALV. The count lives.
LOUIS. O fate! Now tell me where,
And be my better genius.
ALV. I can do’t:
In Spain ’a lives; more, not far from Madrill,[375]
But in disguise, much alter’d.
LOUIS. Wonderful scholar!
Miracle of artists! Alvarez living?
And near Madrill too? now, for heaven’s sake, where?
That’s all, and I am thine.
ALV. Walk off, my lord,
To the next field, you shall know all.
LOUIS. Apace, then!
I listen to thee with a greedy ear:
The miserable and the fortunate
Are alike in this, they cannot change their fate.
[_Exeunt._

SCENE II.

_A field._[376]

_Enter_ ALVAREZ _and_ LOUIS.

ALV. Good, good: you would fain kill him, and revenge
Your father’s death?
LOUIS. I would.
ALV. Bravely, or scurvily?[377]
LOUIS. Not basely, for the world!
ALV. We are secure. [_Produces two swords._
Young Louis, two more trusty blades than these
Spain has not in her arm[or]y: with this
Alvarez slew thy father; and this other
Was that the king of France wore when great Charles
In a set battle took him prisoner;
Both I resign to thee.
LOUIS. This is a new mystery.
ALV. Now see this naked bosom; turn the points
Of either on this bulwark, if thou covet’st,
Out of a sprightly youth and manly thirst
Of vengeance, blood; if blood be thy ambition,
Then call to mind the fatal blow that struck
De Castro, thy brave father, to his grave;
Remember who it was that gave that blow,
His enemy Alvarez: hear, and be sudden,
Behold Alvarez!
LOUIS. Death, I am deluded!
ALV. Thou art incredulous; as fate is certain,
I am the man.
LOUIS. Thou that butcher?
ALV. Tremble not, young man; trust me, I have wept
Religiously to wash off from my conscience
The stain of my offence: twelve years and more,
Like to a restless pilgrim I have run
From foreign lands to lands to find out death.
I'm weary of my life; give me a sword:
That thou mayst know with what a perfect zeal
I honour old De Castro’s memory,
I'll fight with thee; I would not have thy hand
Dipp’d in a wilful murder; I could wish
For one hour’s space I could pluck back from time
But thirty of my years, that in my fall
Thou might’st deserve report: now if thou conquer’st,
Thou canst not triumph, I'm half dead already,
Yet I'll not start a foot.
LOUIS. Breathes there a spirit
In such a heap of age?[378]
ALV. O, that I had
A son of equal growth with thee, to tug
For reputation! by thy father’s ashes,
I would not kill thee for another Spain,
Yet now I'll do my best. Thou art amaz’d;
Come on.
LOUIS. Twelve tedious winters' banishment?
’Twas a long time.
ALV. Could they redeem thy father,
Would every age had been twelve ages, Louis,
And I for penance every age a-dying!
But ’tis too late to wish.
LOUIS. I am o’ercome;
Your nobleness hath conquer’d me: here ends
All strife between our families, and henceforth
Acknowledge me for yours.
ALV. O, thou reviv’st
Fresh horrors to my fact! for in thy gentleness
I see my sin anew.
LOUIS. Our peace is made;
Your life shall be my care: ’twill be glad news
To all our noble friends.
ALV. Since heaven will have it so,
I thank thee, glorious majesty! My son,
For I will call thee [so], ere the next morrow
Salute the world, thou shalt know stranger mysteries.
LOUIS. I have enough to feed on: sir, I'll follow ye.
_Exeunt._

SCENE III.

_A room in_ FERNANDO’S _house_.

_Enter_ FERNANDO, GUIAMARA, _and_ CONSTANZA.

FER. Don John, son to the count of Carcomo?
Woman, take heed thou trifle not.
GUI. Is this,
My lord, so strange?
FER. Beauty in youth, and wit
To set it forth, I see, transform[379] the best
Into what shape love fancies.
CONST. Will you yet
Give me my husband’s life?
FER. Why, little one,
He is not married to thee.
CONST. In his faith
He is; and faith and troth I hope bind faster
Than any other ceremonies can;
Do they not, pray, my lord?
FER. Yes, where the parties
Pledg’d are not too unequal in degree,
As he and thou art.
CONST. This is new divinity.
GUI. My lord, behold this child well: in her face
You may observe, by curious insight, something
More than belongs to every common birth.
FER. True, ’tis a pretty child.
GUI. The glass of misery
Is, after many a change of desperate fortune,
At length run out: you had a daughter call’d
Constanza?
FER. Ha!
GUI. A sister, Guiamara,
Wife to the count Alvarez?
FER. Peace, O, peace!
GUI. And to that sister’s charge you did commit
Your infant daughter, in whose birth your wife,
Her mother, died?
FER. Woman, thou art too cruel!
CONST. What d’ye mean, granam? ’las, the nobleman
Grows angry!
FER. Not I, indeed I do not:—
But why d’ye use me thus?
GUI. Your child and sister,
As you suppos’d, were drown’d?
FER. Drown’d? talking creature!
Suppos’d?
GUI. They live; Fernando, from my hand,
Thy sister’s hand, receive thine own Constanza,
The sweetest, best child living.
CONST. Do you mock me?
FER. Torment me on; yet more, more yet, and spare not,
My heart is now a-breaking; now!
GUI. O brother!
Am I so far remov’d off from your memory,
As that you will not know me? I expected
Another welcome home: look on this casket,
[_Shewing casket._
The legacy your lady left her daughter,
When to her son she gave her crucifix.
FER. Right, right; I know ye now.
GUI. In all my sorrows,
My comfort has been here, she should be [yours],
Be yours [at last].—Constanza, kneel, sweet child,
To thy old father.
CONST. How? my father? [_Kneels._
FER. Let not
Extremity of joys ravish life from me
Too soon, heaven, I beseech thee! Thou art my sister,
My sister Guiamara! How have mine eyes
Been darken’d all this while! ’tis she!
GUI. ’Tis, brother;
And this Constanza, now no more a stranger,
No Pretiosa henceforth.
FER. My soul’s treasure,
Live to an age of goodness; and so thrive
In all thy ways, that thou mayst die to live!
CONST. But must I call you father?
FER. Thou wilt rob me else
Of that felicity, for whose sake only
I am ambitious of being young again:
Rise, rise, mine own Constanza!
CONST. [_rising_] ’Tis a new name,
But ’tis a pretty one; I may be bold
To make a suit t’ye?
FER. Any thing.
CONST. O father,
And if you be my father, think upon
Don John my husband! without him, alas,
I can be nothing!
FER. As I without thee;
Let me alone, Constanza.—Tell me, tell me,
Lives yet Alvarez?
GUI. In your house.
FER. Enough:
Cloy me not; let me by degrees disgest[380]
My joys.—Within, my lords Francisco, Pedro!
Come all at once! I have a world within me;
I am not mortal sure, I am not mortal:

_Enter_ FRANCISCO, PEDRO, MARIA, RODERIGO, _and_
CLARA.

My honourable lord[s], partake my blessings;
[The] count Alvarez lives here in my house;
Your son, my lord Francisco, Don John, is
The condemn’d man falsely accus’d of theft;
This, my lord Pedro, is my sister Guiamara;
Madam, this [is] Constanza, mine own child,
And I am a wondrous merry man.—Without!
The prisoner!

_Enter_ ALVAREZ, LOUIS, JOHN, DIEGO, SANCHO,
SOTO, _and_ CARDOCHIA.

LOUIS. Here, free and acquitted,
By her whose folly drew her to this error;
And she for satisfaction is assur’d[381]
To my wrong’d friend.
CARD. I crave your pardons;
He whose I am speaks for me.
DIEGO. We both beg it!
FER. Excellent! admirable! my dear brother!
ALV. Never a happy man till now; young Louis
And I are reconcil’d.
LOUIS. For ever, faithfully,
Religiously.
FRAN. } My noble lord, most welcome!
PED., _&c._[382] }
ALV. To all my heart pays what it owes, due thanks;
Most, most, brave youth, to thee!
JOHN. I all this while
Stand but a looker-on; and though my father
May justly tax the violence of my passions,
Yet if this lady, lady of my life,
Must be denied, let me be as I was,
And die betimes.
CONST. You promis’d me——
FER. I did.—
My lord of Carcomo, you see their hearts
Are join’d already, so let our consents
To this wish’d marriage.
FRAN. I forgive thine errors;
Give me thy hand.
FER. Me thine.[383]—But wilt thou love
My daughter, my Constanza?
JOHN. As my bliss.
CONST. I thee as life, youth, beauty, any thing
That makes life comfortable.
FER. Live together
One, ever one!
FRAN. } And heaven crown your happiness!
ROD., _&c._[384] }
PED. Now, sir, how like you a prison?
SAN. As gallants do a tavern, being stopped for
a reckoning, scurvily.
SOTO. Though you caged us up never so close,
we sung like cuckoos.
FER. Well, well, you be[385] yourself now.
SAN. Myself?—am I out of my wits, Soto?
FER. Here now are none but honourable friends:
Will you, to give a farewell to the life
You ha' led as gipsies, these being now found none,
But noble in their births, alter’d in fortunes,
Give it a merry shaking by the hand,
And cry adieu to folly?
SAN. We’ll shake our hands, and our heels, if you’ll
give us leave. [_A dance._
FER. On, brides and bridegrooms! to your Spanish
feasts
Invite with bent knees[386] all these noble guests.
[_Exeunt omnes._

THE CHANGELING.

_The Changeling: As it was Acted (with great Applause) at the Privat house in Drury-Lane, and Salisbury Court._

{ _Thomas Midleton_ }
_Written by_ { and } _Gent._
{ _William Rowley_ }

_Never Printed before. London, Printed for Humphrey Moseley, and are to be sold at his shop at the sign of the Princes-Arms in St Pauls Church-yard, 1653._ 4to. The edition just described was put forth with a new title-page in 1668,—_The Changeling: As it was Acted (with great Applause) by the Servants of His Royal Highness the Duke of York, at the Theatre in Lincolns-Inn Fields_, &c.

_The Changeling_ has been reprinted in the 4th vol. of _A Continuation of Dodsley’s Old Plays_, 1816.

“The foundation of the Play,” says Langbaine, “may be found in Reynold[s]’s _Gods Revenge against Murther_. See the Story of Alsemero and Beatrice Joanna, Book I. Hist. 4.” _Acc. of Engl. Dram. Poets_, p. 371. To the story in Reynolds’s work the following Argument is prefixed: “Beatrice-Joana, to marry Alsemero, causeth De Flores to murther Alfonso Piracquo, who was a Suiter to her. Alsemero marries her,f and finding De Flores and her in adultery, kills them both. Thomaso Piracquo challengeth Alsemero for his Brothers death. Alsemero kills him treacherously in the field, and is beheaded for the same, and his body thrown into the Sea. At his Execution he confesseth that his Wife and De Flores murthered Alfonso Piracquo: their bodies are taken up out of their graves, then burnt, and their Ashes thrown into the Air.” The authors of _The Changeling_, as the reader will perceive, have deviated in some important points from the prose narrative of Reynolds; nor are they indebted to that source for the characters of Jasperino, Alibius, Lollio, Pedro, Antonio, Franciscus, and Isabella.

An edition (I believe, the earliest) of the First Book of _The Triumphs of Gods Revenge against Murther_, was printed in 1621: see _Cat. Bibl. Bodlei_.

A “Note of such playes as were acted at court in 1623 and 1624,” in Sir Henry Herbert’s Office-book, records: “Upon the Sonday after, beinge the 4 of January 1623, by the Queene of Bohemias company, _The Changelinge_, the prince only being there. Att Whitehall.” Malone’s _Shakespeare_ (by Boswell), vol. iii. p. 227.

The part of Antonio, from which this once-popular drama has its name (_Changeling_—i. e. idiot, fool), appears to have been much relished by the audience: the last comic performer before the Civil Wars who obtained reputation in it was Robins: see Collier’s _Hist. of Engl. Dram. Poetry_, vol. ii. p. 107. Downes mentions that Betterton, when about twenty-two years of age, was highly applauded in the character of De Flores, and that Sheppy gave great satisfaction in that of Antonio: see _Roscius Anglicanus_, p. 26, ed. Waldron. Pepys has noted, under date of 23d Feb. 1660-1, “To the Playhouse, and there saw _The Changeling_, the first time it hath been acted these twenty years, and it takes exceedingly.” _Diary_, vol. i. p. 179, ed. 8vo.

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.

VERMANDERO, _governor of the castle of Alicant_.
ALONZO DE PIRACQUO, }
TOMASO DE PIRACQUO, } _brothers_.
ALSEMERO.
JASPERINO, _his friend_.
ALIBIUS, _a doctor, who undertakes the cure of fools
and madmen_.
LOLLIO, _his man_.
ANTONIO, _a pretended changeling_.
PEDRO, his friend.
FRANCISCUS, _a counterfeit madman_.
DE FLORES, _an attendant on Vermandero_.
_Madmen._
_Servants._

BEATRICE-JOANNA, _daughter to Vermandero_.
DIAPHANTA, _her waiting-woman_.
ISABELLA, _wife to Alibius_.

Scene, ALICANT.

THE CHANGELING.