The new purgation house, where witnesses
Have severally depos'd she was unchaste.

ALT. Blisters and rottenness consume thy tongue! Villain! thou hast talk'd away thy life.

[Draws upon him. BRU. Oh! hold sir, hold! can you enforce

A slander from him, and then punish it
Yourself? Your sword upon your vassal too!
HIR. If rogues will bear false witness, can I
help't?

Cause they lose their souls, must I lose my life?

RAM. Galeotto, sir, the favourite may be, With argument enough, suspected chief

In this conspiracy.

ALT.

Thou dost receive

My jealous fears with truth too naked,

And evident to be conceal'd. What is

That holy college he's in madness nam'd?

RAM. A place to whip offenders for their lust. ALT. O heavens! why is your business so remote And high, that you can take no notice of

Such wrongs as these? Was this the house thought fit

To entertain Arthiopa? Furies

And fiends ascend! take up your dwelling here:
For all this goodly city I'll convert

Into one spreading fume-a fire so large

And hot, shall make the rivers seethe, and seas

To boil without the trouble of a storm.

RAM. Kill all you meet, and burn the rest that are Imprison'd or asleep.*

BRU. Let's think of rifling first, then fire shops
after.

Though I must never wear silks, I do not like
Flame-colour'd taffeta.

These two lines are, in the folio, given to Altophil, the next three to Rampino, and the following two to Hirco.

HIR. I'ld fain to the mercers too,

And fall a measuring with my iron yard.

ALT. Why, Brusco, dost thou stand so lamely* now?

When I perceive my injuries so great,

Our patience will be held no virtue but a sin.
Draw up the scatter'd troops that winter'd here
Since the last siege.

BRU. O sir! ease your distemper with

Your wiser thoughts; the prince, you know's, in

town;

He's gracious, and will do you right. Lose not
The fame your noble youth hath justly gain'd
With one rash act, which must be treason call'd
And so interpreted by all the Court:

Then think what danger a commotion here

Would urge, since Heildebrand, the Lombard's King,

Our watchful enemy, is now within

Ten leagues strongly encamp'd.

Enter a CARTHUSIAN, ARTHIOPA, who is held by him, clothed in white, a taper in her hand, people and boys following her.

ALT. What means this sad and bashful spectacle, My friends? What penitential lady's that

You wait on with such needless courtesy !

You sir, speak, can you tell? are you all dumb?

[They run from him as afraid. Here's one whose habit promises so much

Civility as will afford me a reply.

[Speaks to the Carthusian.

Pray, Sir, instruct me in this lady's name!

And what's the cause her penance is expos'd
Thus to the public view?

RAM. He's a Carthusian, and, by's order, tied
Tamely.-Folio.

To a concealment of his tongue. He

Must not speak.

ALT. Sure I have had some knowledge of her face!
ART. 'Tis Altophil, the Lord of all my vows!
Sweet Heaven let fall a cloud and hide me in't,
That my shame, since undeserv'd, may be
Conceal'd from all but you. I ask not for
Revenge from men: their justice I have felt
So cruel on myself, that I not dare

Write it to those who thus have injur'd me!
ALT. Mine eyes have been too bold.

It is not fit they should discover her

In so much shame yet it must be she.

O heart heart! if ever thou wert made for love, Love would have weaved thy strings not of such tough

And stubborn wire, but silk, such as would crack With half that weight which hangs upon his grief. Arthiopa!

ART. Fly fly! my Lord, and follow not this light,

It is that walking fire which in the night
Misleads the traveller, and, like an

Unwholesome mist about it, needs must blast
Whom it shall tempt to wander from his wits.
ALT. Stay stay! 'tis instant death to take her
hence:

Though all your tyrants of the law were here,
They would fall down, down at her feet and hide
Their antic faces that do fright poor prisoners more
Than their false sentence when they're half asleep.
Forgive me, reverend Sir! I know, in this
Your office, you but serve some high command.
Lend me this lady for a short discourse,
And, on my honour, I'll restore her to

Your charge. The laws shall be exactly satisfied.

[Takes her aside.

ART. Sure, Altophil, thou'rt lately come from

Heaven;

For this is more than human courtesy

To own a luckless virgin, so much lost

In sorrow and distress!

ALT.

Preserve thy tears!

This is a wicked place; such precious drops

Should not bedew unhallow'd ground. Thy infamy
Is meant to me, and thou art punish'd for

My envied love. Ay, 'tmust be so, the proofs
Are pregnant that persuade my faith.

ART. My sorrows will seem easy to me, though Accompanied with death. Such is the joy

I take, that you believe me guiltless of
A crime, which, though I blush to name, yet I
Must own before the world in punishment.
The angels if they had but leisure to
Descend would testify I am betray'd.
ALT. And I, Arthiopa, to vindicate

Thy fame, yet shew obedience to the laws,
In these injurious penitential weeds
Will lead thee straight unto that Church

To which thy penance is prescrib'd; and there

I'll marry thee, in scorn of all the dull
Abused world. Go on!

ART. O sir, though I

[She kneels.

Am strictly chaste, most true and loyal to your love,

Respect the honour of your house,

Renown'd in war and foreign courts.

How will

It be defil'd when y' are allied not unto me
Alone, but to my shame? That is a stain

So deep and public now, not all my tears,

Though they could fall in show'rs, will wash't away. ALT. Go on! My resolution needs no vows. BRU. Where is your reason, sir? you that are wise

Enough to govern armies in their

rage,

In your own fury now should be so wise
To rule your self. Though this sweet lady's truth
And virtues sacred are, and firm to our

Belief; yet in the high importance of

A wife, you should take care to match where not A single doubt, though ne'er so weak, could be By envy urg'd!

ART. Sir, you have borrow'd much

Of time, much have you seen, and speak from all Discreet experience and your love, I know: You love your Duke. Therefore in this advice You have my thanks sincerely from my soul !

ALT. Old man, could'st thou convey thy heart

into

My breast, and so possess my grief; could'st thou
With my subdued moist eyes behold the great
Gonsalvo's daughter, mistress of my life,
Disgraced thus, like th' people's sinful offspring,
[Here]* in the street: how would it stir thy blood?
And then to know her suff'rance treacherously
Contrived by power, one that did malice all
Our holy vows. I'll not indure't !-burn-burn
The town! kill, kill all you meet!

HIR. Rampino, raise the old garrison i'th' citadel. I'll to the sconce behind the bridge.

RAM. Since they do love to see a soldier's mistress In a white sheet, we'll see their wives in their Smocks too, before night.

BRU. Stay! stay! is this your love unto your General,

Or thirst to pillage and to blood?

ART. Sir, let me quench your anger with my tears. Upon my knees let me request you leave Me to mine own misfortune, and the laws. This dangerous act at once would violate All your allegiance to the Prince.

Interpolated in the folio.