The Works of the British Dramatists: Carefully Selected from the Original ...

his works are characterized by great inequality. Hazlitt calls him a writer of great merit, who rose to tragedy from the ground of comedy, and whose forte was not sympathy either with the stronger or softer emotions, but an impatient scorn and bitter indignation against the vices and follies of men, which vented itself either in comic verse or lofty invective. He was properly a satirist.' We have selected Antonio and Mellida, both on account of its intrinsic merits, and as being on the whole the most appropriate of Marston's dramas for a work like the present. It is printed as it stands in the original edition, except that the spelling is modernized.]

ANTONIO AND. MELLIDA:

A HISTORY.

ACTED BY THE CHILDREN OF PAUL'S.

BY JOHN MARSTON.

London. 1602.

PIERO SFORZA, Duke of Venice.

ANDRUGIO, Duke of Genoa.

Dramatis Personæ.

CASTILIO BALTHAZAR.

CATZO, his Servant.

ANTONIO, son of Andrugio, disguised as FLORI- DILDO, Servant to Balurdo.

ZELL, an Amazon.

GALEATZO, son of the Duke of Florence.

MATZAGENTE, a braggadocio, Duke of Milan's son.
FOROBOSCO, a parasite.

BALURDO, a silly, 'mountebanking' courtier.
FELICE, a shrewd, contemplative cynic.
ALBERTO, a Venetian Gentleman.

LUCIO, Companion or Servant to Andrugio.
A Page.

MELLIDA, Piero's Daughter.
ROSSALINE, Niece to Piero.
FLAVIA, Maid to Rossaline.

Courtiers, etc.

SCENE-In and around Venice.

INDUCTION.

Enter GALEATZO, PIERO, ALBERTO, ANTONIO,
FOROBOSCO, BALURDO, MATZAGENTE, and
FELICE, with parts in their hands, having
cloaks cast over their apparel.

Gal. Come, sirs, come! the music will sound straight for entrance. Are ye ready, are ye perfect?

Pie. Faith! we can say our parts; but we are
ignorant in what mould we must cast our actors.
Alb. Whom do you personate?
Pie. Piero, Duke of Venice.

And stalks as proud upon the weakest stilts
Of the slight'st fortunes, as if Hercules
Or burly Atlas shouldered up their state.
Pie. Good; but whom act you?

Alb. The necessity of the play forceth me to act two parts: Andrugio, the distressed Duke of Genoa, and Alberto, a Venetian gentleman, enamoured on the Lady Rossaline; whose fortunes being too weak to sustain the port of her, he prov'd always disastrous in love; his worth being underpoised' by the uneven scale, that currents all things by the outward stamp of

Alb. Oh ho! then thus you frame your exterior opinion.
shape,

To haughty form of elate majesty;
As if you held the palsy shaking head

Of reeling chance, under your fortune's belt
In strictest vassalage: grow big in thought,
As swoln with glory of successful arms.

Pie. If that be all, fear not, I'll suit it right. Who cannot be proud, stroke up the hair, and strut?

Alb. Truth; such rank custom is grown popular;

And now the vulgar fashion strides as wide,

Gal. Well, and what dost thou play?
Bal. The part of all the world.

Alb. The part of all the world? What's that? Bal. The fool. Ay, in good deed law now, I play Balurdo, a wealthy mountebanking burgomasco's heir of Venice.

1 underpoised-undervalued.

2 currents-makes pass current, values.

3 burgomasco's-equivalent, we suppose, to burgo

master's.

Alb. Ha, ha! one whose foppish nature might seem great, only for wise men's recreation; and, like a juiceless bark, to preserve the sap of more strenuous spirits. A servile hound, that loves the scent of forerunning fashion, like an empty hollow vault, still giving an echo to wit: greedily champing what any other well-valued judgment had beforehand chew'd.

Foro. Ha, ha, ha! tolerably good; good faith, sweet wag.

Alb. Umh; why, tolerably good; good faith, sweet wag? Go, go; you flatter me.

Foro. Right; I but dispose my speech to the habit of my part.

Alb. Why, what plays he?

[To FELICE.

Feli. The wolf that eats into the breasts of princes; that breeds the lethargy and falling sickness in honour; makes justice look asquint; and blinds the eye of merited reward from viewing desertful virtue.

Alb. What's all this periphrasis, ha?

Feli. The substance of a supple-chapped flat

terer.

Feli. Rampum serampum, mount tuftie Tamburlaine. What rattling thunderclap breaks from his lips?

Alb. Oh, 'tis native to his part. For acting a modern braggadocio under the person of Matzagente, the Duke of Milan's son, it may seem to suit with good fashion of coherence.

Pie. But methinks he speaks with a spruce attic accent of adulterate Spanish.

Alb. So 'tis resolv'd. For Milan being half Spanish, half High Dutch, and half Italian, the blood of chiefest houses is corrupt and mongrel'd, so that you shall see a fellow vainglorious for a Spaniard, gluttonous for a Dutchman, proud for an Italian, and a fantastic idiot for all. Such a one conceit this Matzagente.

Feli. But I have a part allotted me, which I have neither able apprehension to conceit, nor what I conceit gracious ability to utter.

Gal. Whoop, in the old cut! 2 Good, show us a draught of thy spirit.

Feli. 'Tis steady, and must seem so impregnably fortressed with his own content that no envious Alb. Oh, doth he play Forobosco the Parasite? thought could ever invade his spirit; never surGood, i'faith.-Sirrah, you must seem now as veying any man so unmeasuredly happy, whom glib and straight in outward semblance as a I thought not justly hateful for some true imlady's busk, though inwardly as cross as a pair poverishment; never beholding any favour of of tailor's legs; having a tongue as nimble as Madam Felicity gracing another, which his wellhis needle, with servile patches of glavering bounded content persuaded not to hang in the flattery to stitch up the bracks3 of (the) un- front of his own fortune; and therefore as far worthily honoured. from envying any man, as he valued all men infinitely distant from accomplished beatitude. These native adjuncts appropriate to me the name of Felice. But last, good, thy humour.

Foro. I warrant you, I warrant you, you shall see me prove the very periwig to cover the bald pate of brainless gentility. Ho! I will so tickle the sense of bella gratiosa madonna with the titillation of hyperbolical praise, that I'll strike it in the nick, in the very nick, chuck.

Feli. Thou promisest more than I hope any spectator gives faith of performance; but why look you so dusky, ha? [TO ANTONIO.

Ant. I was never worse fitted since the nativity of my actorship; shall be hissed at, on my life now.

Feli. Why, what must you play? Ant. Faith, I know not what: an hermaphrodite two parts in one; my true person being Antonio, son to the Duke of Genoa; though for the love of Mellida, Piero's daughter, I take this feigned presence of an Amazon, calling myself Florizell, and I know not what. I a voice to play a lady! I shall ne'er do it.

Alb. Oh! an Amazon should have such a voice, virago-like. Not play two parts in one? Away, away, 'tis common fashion. Nay, if you cannot bear two subtle fronts under one hood; idiot, go by, go by; off this world's stage! O time's impurity!

Ant. Aye, but when use hath taught me action to hit the right point of a lady's part, I shall grow ignorant, when I must turn young prince again, how but to truss my hose.

Feli. Tush, never put them off; for women wear the breeches still.

Mat. By the bright honour of a Milanese, and the resplendent fulgor of this steel, I will defend the feminine to death; and ding his spirit to the verge of hell, that dares divulge a lady's prejudice. [Exeunt ANTONIO and ALBERTO.

[Exit ALBERTO.

Ant. 'Tis to be describ'd by sigus and tokens For unless I were possess'd with a legion of spirits, 'tis impossible to be made perspicuous by any utterance: for sometimes he must take austere state, as for the person of Galeatzo, the son of the Duke of Florence, and possess his exterior presence with a formal majesty; keep popularity in distance, and on the sudden fling his honour so prodigally into a common arm. that he may seem to give up his indiscretion to the mercy of vulgar censure. Now as solemn as a traveller, and as grave as a Puritan's ruff; with the same breath as slight and scattered in his fashion as a-a-anything. Now as sweet and

neat as a barber's casting-bottle; straight as slovenly as the yeasty breast of an ale-knight; now lamenting, then chafing, straight laughing; then

Feli. What then?

Ant. Faith, I know not what: 't'ad been a right part for Proteus or Gew. Ho! blind Gew would ha' done't rarely, rarely.

Feli. I fear it is not possible to limn so many persons in so small a tablet as the compass of our plays afford.

Ant. Right! therefore I have heard that those persons, as he and you, Felice, that are but slightly drawn in this Comedy, should receive more exact accomplishment in a second part; which, if this obtains gracious acceptance, means to try his fortune.

Feli. Peace, here comes the Prologue. _Clear the stage. [Exeunt.

1 conceit-fancy, conceive.

2 i.e. holla! after the old fashion.-DILKE.

3 casting-bottle-a bottle for casting or sprinkling perfumes.

4 Gew was probably the name of some actor who had been a favourite, and left the stage from blindness.DILKE.

The wrath of pleasure and delicious sweets,
Begirt the gentle front of this fair troop;
Select and most respected auditors,
For wit's sake do not dream of miracles.
Alas! we shall but falter, if you lay
The least sad weight of an unused hope
Upon our weakness; only we give up
The worthless present of slight idleness
To your authentic censure. Oh that our Muse
Had those abstruse and sinewy faculties,
That, with a strain of fresh invention,
She might press out the rarity of Art;

1 censure-judgment.

The pur'st elixed' juice of rich conceit
In your attentive cares; that with the lip ୧
Of gracious elocution we might drink
A sound carouse unto your health of wit.
But, oh! the heathy dryness of her brain,
Foil to your fertile spirits, is asham'd
To breathe her blushing numbers to such ears;
Yet (most ingenious) deign to vail our wants.
With sleek acceptance polish these rude scenes;
And if our slightness your large hope beguiles,
Check not with bended brow, but dimpled smiles.
[Exit Prologue.

ACT I.

The cornets sound a battle within.
Enter ANTONIO, disguised like an Amazon.
Ant. Heart, wilt not break? and thou, abhorred
life,

Wilt thou still breathe in my enraged blood?
Veins, sinews, arteries, why crack ye not?
Burst and divul'st' with anguish of my grief.
Can man by no means creep out of himself,
And leave the slough of viperous grief behind?
Antonio, hast thou seen a fight at sea,
As horrid as the hideous day of doom,
Betwixt thy father, Duke of Genoa,
And proud Piero, the Venetian Prince?

In which the sea hath swoln with Genoa's blood,
And made spring tides with th' warm reeking gore,
That gushes from out our galleys' scupper holes;
In which thy father, poor Andrugio,
Lies sunk, or leapt into the arms of chance,
Chok'd with the labouring ocean's brackish foam,
Who even, despite Pietro's cankered hate,
Would with an armed hand have seized thy love,
And linked thee to the beauteous Mellida.
Have I outlived the death of all these hopes?
Have I felt anguish pour'd into my heart,
Burning like balsamum in tender wounds,
And yet dost live? Could not the fretting sea
Have roll'd me up in wrinkles of his brow?
is death grown coy? or grim confusion nice?
That it will not accompany a wretch,
But I must needs be cast on Venice shore,
And try new fortunes with this strange disguise?
To purchase my adored Mellida.

[The cornets sound a flourish; cease.
Hark how Piero's triumphs beat the air!
O rugged mischief, how thou grat'st my heart!
Take spirit, blood; disguise, be confident;
Make a firm stand; here rests the hope of all,-
Lower than hell, there is no depth to fall.

The cornets sound a synnet.? Enter FELICE and ALBERTO, CASTILIO and FOROBOSCO, a Page carrying a shield; PIERO in armour; CATZO and DILDO and BALURDO. All these (saving

1 dirul'st-rent asunder.

synnet, sennet, cynet-seems to indicate a particular set of notes on the trumpet or cornet, different from a flourish.-NARES.

PIERO) armed with petronels. Being entered, they make a stand in divided files. Pie. Victorious fortune, with triumphant hand, Hurleth my glory 'bout this ball of earth, Whilst the Venetian Duke is heaved up, On wings of fair success, to overlook The low cast ruins of his enemies, To see myself ador'd and Genoa quake; My fate is firmer than mischance can shake. Feli. Stand; the ground trembleth. Pie. Ha! an earthquake?

Bal. Oh! I smell a sound.

Feli. Piero, stay, for I descry a fume
Creeping from out the bosom of the deep,
The breath of darkness, fatal when 'tis whist 2
In greatness' stomach; this same smoke, call'd
pride,

Take heed; she'll lift thee to improvidence,
And break thy neck from steep security;
She'll make thee grudge to let Jehovah share
In thy successful battles. Oh, she's ominous;
Enticeth princes to devour heaven,

Swallow omnipotence, outstare dread fate,
Subdue eternity in giant thought,-
Heaves up their hurt with swelling, puffed conceit,
Till their souls burst with venom'd arrogance.
Beware, Piero, Rome itself hath tried,
Confusion's train blows up this Babel pride.
Pie. Pish! Dimitto superos, summa votorum
attigis

Alberto, hast thou yielded up our fixed decree
Unto the Genoan ambassador?

Are they content, if that their duke return,
To send his and his son Antonio's head
As pledges steeped in blood to gain their peace?
Alb. With most obsequious sleek-brow'd in-
tertain,

They all embrace it as most gracious.

Pie. Are proclamations sent through Italy,
That whosoever brings Andrugio's head,
Or young Antonio's, shall be guerdoned
And be endeared to Piero's love?
With twenty thousand double pistolets,

Foro. They are sent every way. Sound policy sweet lord.

Feli. Confusion to these limber sycophants.
No sooner mischief's born in regency,
But flattery christens it with policy.

Pie. Why, then, O me Celitum excelsissimum ! 2
The intestine malice and inveterate hate
I always bore to that Andrugio,
Glories in triumph o'er his misery;
Nor shall that carpet-boy Antonio
Match with my daughter, sweet-cheeked Mellida.
No; the public power makes my faction strong.
Feli. Ill, when public power strengtheneth
private wrong.

Pie. 'Tis horse-like not for a man to know his
force.

Feli. "Tis god-like for a man to feel remorse. Pie. Pish! I prosecute my family's revenge, Which I'll pursue with such a burning chase, Till I have dried up all Andrugio's blood; Weak rage that with slight pity is withstood.

[The cornets sound a flourish. What means that fresh triumphal flourish sound? Alb. The Prince of Milan, and young Florence heir,

Approach to gratulate your victory.

Enter MATZAGENTE; PIERO meets him; embrace th; at which the cornets sound a flourish: they to stand, using seeming compliments, whilst the scene passeth above.

Mel. S. Mark, S. Mark! what kind of thing appears?

Ros. For fancy's passion, spit upon him; figh His face is varnished. In the name of love, What country bred that creature?

Mel. What is he, Flavia?

Fla. The heir of Milan, Seignior Matzagente.
Ros. Matzagente! now, by my pleasure's hope,
He is made like a tilting staff; and looks
For all the world like an o'er-roasted pig:
A great tobacco-taker too, that's flat;
For his eyes look as if they had been hung
In the smoke of his nose.

Mel. What husband will he prove, sweet
Rossaline?

Ros. Avoid him; for he hath a dwindled leg,
A low forehead, and a thin coal-black beard;
And will be jealous too, believe it, sweet;
For his chin sweats, and hath a gander neck,
A thin lip, and a little monkish eye;

Pie. We'll girt them with an ample waste of Precious, what a slender waist he hath!

love;

Conduct them to our presence royally.

Let volleys of the great artillery

From off our galleys' banks 3 play prodigal,
And sound loud welcome from their bellowing
mouths.
[Exeunt all but PIERO.

The cornets sound a cynet. Enter above, MEL-
LIDA, ROSSALINE, and FLAVIA. Enter below,
GALEATZO with Attendants; PIERO meeteth
him, embraceth; at which the cornets sound
a flourish; PIERO and GALEATZO exeunt;
the rest stand still.

Mel. What prince was that passed through my father's guard?

Fla. "Twas Galeatzo, the young Florentine. Ros. Troth, one that will besiege thy maidenhead;

Enter the walls, i'faith (sweet Mellida),

If that thy flankers be not cannon-proof.

Mel. Oh, Mary Ambree! good, thy judgment,
wench;

Thy bright election's clear: what will he prove?
Ros. Hath a short finger and a naked chin,
A skipping eye; dare lay my judgment (faith)
His love is glibbery; there's no hold on't, wench.
Give me a husband whose aspect is firm;
A full cheeked gallant with a bouncing thigh;
Oh, he is the paradizo dell madonne contento.
Mel. Even such a one was my Antonio.

[The cornets sound a cynet.
Ros. By my nine and thirtieth servant (sweet)
Thou art in love, but stand on tiptoed fair;
Here comes Saint Tristram Tirlery Whiffe,
i'faith.

He looks like a may-pole, or notched stick;
He'll snap in two at every little strain.
Give me a husband that will fill mine arms,
Fools relish not a lady's excellence.
Of steady judgment, quick and nimble sense;

[Exeunt all on the lower stage; at which the
cornets sound a flourish, and a peal of
shot is given.

Mel. The triumph's ended, but look, Rossaline,
What gloomy soul in strange accustrements 2
Walks on the pavement?

Ros. Good sweet, let's to her; pr'ythee, Mellida
Mel. How covetous thou art of novelties!
Ros. Pish! 'tis our nature to desire things
That are thought strangers to the common cut.
Mel. I am exceedingly willing, but-
Ros. But what? pr'ythee go down; let's see her

face:

God send that neither wit nor beauty wants
Those tempting sweets, affection's adamants.

[Exeunt.

Ant. Come down, she comes like-oh, no simile
Is precious, choice, or elegant enough
To illustrate her descent; leap heart, she comes,-
She comes! smile heaven, and softest southern
wind

Kiss her cheek gently with perfumed breath.
She comes: creation's purity, admir'd,
Ador'd amazing rarity,-she comes!
Oh now, Antonio, press thy spirit forth
In following passion, knit thy senses close,
Heap up thy powers, double all thy man.

Enter MELLIDA, ROSSALINE, and FLAVIA.
She comes! Oh, how her eyes dart wonder on
my heart!
Mount blood, soul to my lips, taste Hebe's cup;
Stand firm on deck, when beauty's close fight's up.
Mel. Lady, your strange habit doth beget
Our pregnant thoughts, even great of much desire,
To be acquaint with your condition.

Ros. Good, sweet lady, without more cere-
monies,

What country claims your birth? and, sweet, your name?

1 What-what sort of.

2 accustrements - accoutrements; old Fr. accustre, to accoutre.

3 close fights are things used to shelter the men from the enemy in action. Antonio's meaning is, therefore, I must meet her resolutely, because by my covering or disguise my real person is hid from her.'-DILKE

Ant. In hope your bounty will extend itself
In selfsame nature of fair courtesy,
I'll shun all niceness: my name's Florizell,
My country Scythia; I am Amazon
Cast on this shore by fury of the sea.

Ros. Nay, faith, sweet creature, we'll not veil

our names.

It pleas'd the font to dip me Rossaline;
That lady bears the name of Mellida,
The Duke of Venice' daughter.

Ant. Madam, I am oblig'd to kiss your hand, By imposition of a now dead man.

[To MELLIDA, kissing her hand. Ros. Now, by my troth, I long, beyond all thought

To know the man; sweet beauty, deign his name. Ant. Lady, the circumstance is tedious.

Ros. Troth, not a whit; good fair, let's have it all:

I love not, I, to have a jot left out,!!
If the tale come from a lov'd oratorij

Ant. Vouchsafe me, then, your hush'd obsery

ances.

Vehement in pursuit of strange novelties,
After long travel through the Asian main,
I shipp'd my hopeful thoughts for Brittany;
Longing to view great Nature's miracle,
The glory of our sex, whose fame doth strike
Remotest ears with adoration.

Sailing some two months with inconstant winds,
We view'd the glistering Venetian forts,

To which we made: when lo! some three leagues off,

We might descry a horrid spectacle ;
The issue of black fury strew'd the sea
With tattered carcases of splitting ships,
Half sinking, burning, floating, topsy-turvy.
Not far from these sad ruins of fell rage,
We might behold a creature press the waves;
Senseless he sprawl'd, all notched with gaping
wounds;

To him we made, and (short) we took him up;
The first thing he spake was,--Mellida!

And then he swooned.

Mel. Ay me!

Ant. Why sigh you, fair?

Mel. Nothing but little humours; good sweet,

- on.

Ant. His wounds being dress'd, and life recovered,

We 'gan discourse; when lo! the sea grew mad,
His bowels rumbling with wind passion,
Straight swarthy darkness popp'd out Phoebus' eye,
And blurr'd the jocund face of bright-cheeked
day;

Whilst crudl'd' fogs masked even darkness' brow:
Heaven bade's good night, and the rocks groan'd
At the intestine uproar of the main.
Now gusty flaws struck up the very heels
Of our mainmast, whilst the keen lightning shot
Through the black bowels of the quaking air;
Straight chops a wave, and in his sliftred paunch
Down falls our ship, and there he breaks his
neck:

Which in an instant up was belch'd again.
When thus this martyr'd soul began to sigh:
Give me your hand (quoth he), now do you grasp
Th' unequal mirrors of ragg'd misery:
Is't not a horrid storm? Oh, well-shap'd sweet,

Could your quick eye strike through these gashed wounds,

You should behold a heart, a heart, fair creature,
Raging more wild than is this frantic sea.
Wilt do me a favour, if thou chance survive;
But visit Venice, kiss the precious white
Of my most-nay, all epithets are base
To attribute to gracious Mellida:
Tell her the spirit of Antonio

Wisheth his last gasp breath'd upon her breast.'
Ros. Why weeps soft-hearted Florizell?
Ant. Alas, the flinty rocks groan'd at his plaints.
Tell her (quoth he) that her obdurate sire
Hath crack'd his bosom; therewithal he wept,
And thus sigh'd on. The sea is merciful;
Look how it gapes to bury all my grief:
Well, thou shalt have it, thou shalt be his
tomb:

My faith in my love live; in thee, die woe,
Die unmatch'd anguish, die Antonio.
With that he totter'd from the reeling deck,
And down he sunk.

Ros. Pleasure's body, what makes my lady weep?

Mel. Nothing, sweet Rossaline, but the air's sharp.

My father's palace, madam, will be proud
To entertain your presence, if you'll deign
To make repose within. Ay me!

Ant. Lady, our fashion is not curious. 1
Ros. Faith, all the nobler, 'tis more generous.
Mel. Shall I then know how fortune fell at
last,

What succour came, or what strange fate ensued? Ant. Most willingly: but this same court is vast,

And public to the staring multitude.

Ros. Sweet lady, nay good sweet, now by my troth

We'll be bedfellows: dirt on compliment froth. [Exeunt; ROSSALINE giving ANTONIO the way.

1 observances-attentions.

2 crudi'd-curdled, thick.

gusty flaws-sudden blasts.-DILKE.

4 siiftred-cracked, opened.

The unequal mirror-i.e. the partial and unjust re

presentative.-DILKE.

1 ie. the manners and customs of our nation are not ceremonious.-DILKE.

2 pug-an occasional term of good fellowship or intimacy, as monkey is now.

3 pantable-a sort of high shoe or slipper; perhaps corrupted from pantofle.

4 linstock. See note 1, p. 220, col. 1.

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