And will, by frequent oratory of tears, Be brought to wear the perfect shape, the figure Isa. Thus besieg'd, It is high time I summon up my virtue, All that is good about me, to assist My resolution: sir, I would be loath That you should see me angry; 'tis a passion Yet, in this case, dear to me as my honour, I needs must chide your passion. O consider! look Your violent will (as on some dangerous rock Why should you venture your whole stock of goodness Which the most barbarous pirates of the laws Of moral honesty, would fear to seize on, Both for its sanctity and trivial value. Alb. I'm thunderstruck! Isa. What foolish thief, my lord, would rob an altar, Be guilty of the sacrilege to gain A brazen censer? why should you, then, affect A sin so great as spoiling me of honour, For such a poor gain as the satisfying Your sensual appetite? think, good my lord, The pleasures you so covet are but like flattering mornings That shew the rising sun in its full brightness, Yet do, ere night, bury his head in tempests. Alb. I'm disinchanted! all the charms are fled By your best goodness from these foul intentions, Isa. I am glad I've wrought this reclamation on your folly; Alb. Had you yielded to my desires, Been no whit virtuous, I should have esteem'd you Look on my innocent love more spotless Than are the thoughts of babes which ne'er knew foulness; Accept me for your husband; start not, lady! By your fair self I mean it, do entreat it As my extent of happiness. Isa. This, my lord, Is too extreme o'th' other side; as much Of the more lofty cedar; 'twixt us two Is the same difference. Love, my lord, and hope Rank; all the ends my poor ambition Shall ever aim shall be to love your worth, Alb. You're too humble, Impose too mean a value on a gem Kings would be proud to wear; dear Isabella, To me my father, mother, brother, friend, In one another's company." Enter Albert to Wallenstein. "Alb. Your grace was pleas'd to send for me. Wal. I did so: Know you the cause? Alb. Not yet, my lord. Wal. I am your father, sir; Whose frowns you ought to tremble at, whose anger Should be as dreadful to you as heaven's curses: Look on my face, and read my business there. Alb. Alas, my lord, your looks Are discompos'd with rage; your fiery eyes Assur'd my innocence can no way merit Your all-consuming anger. Wal. 'Tis a lie! A worthless lie! false as thy flattering hopes are: With Isabella; one who is compos'd Of paint and plasters. Thou degenerate monster! Traitor to fame, and parricide to renown! Abject in thy condition as thy thoughts are! Tear this vile strumpet from thy soul; do't quickly; To keep thy faith, or I will quite put off Does of the snow which, when it has engender'd, Actions I sham'd to justify; I confess Wal. Dare you, boy, Speak this to me? Alb. I should, sir, be degenerate From your great spirit, should I fear to utter What I do wish effected. Were you a god, Wal. Hell and furies! Durst any mortal fool, but my own issue, Do it without regret; renounce this strumpet; And with more safety, thou may'st hug a wave, When its white lips kiss heaven. Young sir, your honour And must give me account, a strict account, Would break their marble lodgings, and come forth To quarrel with me, should I permit this bar To stain their glorious heraldry. Alb. Great sir! Can virtue be a blemish, or true worth Disgrace nobility? 'twas that, at first, When nature made all equal, did distinguish "Twixt man and man, and gave a just precedence Durst with frail flesh commix, or earth be proud of, It adds fresh moisture to its stream. My lord, To your commands. O, by your love, your virtue, Thou shalt enjoy thy wishes. Alb. All the blessings Prayers can obtain from heaven, shower down upon you, Wal. Stay, and mark me; It shall be with this condition-that, as soon Without remorse, To kill your Isabella! Alb. Heavens protect me! Wal. Nay, thou shalt swear it too! Alas, gentle boy, I know thy nature is too full of fire To mix with sordid earth; and though thy lust, To taste the sweets of Isabella's beauty, I know thou scorn'st so much to unmake thy gentry, Give up her honour, till the church has seal'd That grant as lawful: freely I allow Her brave ambition, if, as a reward Due to her haughty pride, thy own hands kill her, And so wipe out the infamy. Alb. Strange cruelty! So tyrants us'd to grant offenders life, After their condemnation, to reserve them To combat wild beasts in the spacious cirque, Or bloody amphitheatre. My lord! Wal. Pish! I am deaf; inexorable as seas Enter Dutchess, Isabel, and Page. Dutch. O, my lord, Your justice on this cursed witch, this thief! Force her to restitution. Wal. "Twas a gem my mother gave me; which I did preserve With as much care as votaries do the relics Of their protecting saints: I gave it you, When, in the eager fervor of my youth, I destin'd you my wife. Come hither, minion; |