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SPECIMENS

OF

ENGLISH DRAMATIC POETS.

THE TRIUMPH OF LOVE:

BEING THE SECOND OF FOUR PLAYS, OR MORAL REPRESENTATIONS. BY FRANCIS BEAUMONT.

VIOLANTA, Daughter to a Nobleman of Milan, is with child by GERRARD, supposed to be of mean descent: an offence which by the laws of Milan is made capital to both parties.

VIOLANTA. GERRARD.

Viol. Why does my Gerrard grieve?
Ger. O my sweet mistress,

It is not life (which by our Milan law

My fact hath forfeited) makes me thus pensive;
That I would lose to save the little finger

Of this your noble burthen from least hurt,

Because your blood is in it. But since your love
Made poor incompatible me the parent

(Being we are not married) your dear blood
Falls under the same cruel penalty:

And can heaven think fit ye die for me?

For Heaven's sake say I ravish'd you; I'll swear it,
To keep your life and repute unstain'd.

Viol. O Gerrard, thou art my life and faculties,
And if I lose thee, I'll not keep mine own;
The thought of whom sweetens all miseries.
Would'st have me murder thee beyond thy death?
Unjustly scandal thee with ravishment?

VOL. II.

B

It was so far from rape, that heaven doth know,
If ever the first lovers, ere they fell,
Knew simply in the state of innocence,
Such was this act, this, that doth ask no blush.
Ger. Oh! but my rarest Violanta, when
My lord Randulpho, brother to your father,
Shall understand this, how will he exclaim,
That my poor aunt and me, which his free alms
Hath nurs'd, since Milan by the duke of Mantua,
Who now usurps it, was surpriz'd that time
My father and my mother both were slain,
With my aunt's husband, as she says; their states
Despoil'd and seiz'd; 'tis past my memory,
But thus she told me: only thus I know,
Since I could understand, your honour'd uncle
Hath giv'n me all the liberal education

That his own son might look for, had he one;
Now will he say, dost thou requite me thus ?
O the thought kills me.

Viol. Gentle, gentle Gerrard,

Be cheer'd, and hope the best. My mother, father, And uncle, love me most indulgently,

Being the only branch of all their stocks:

But neither they, nor he thou would'st not grieve
With this unwelcome news, shall ever hear
Violanta's tongue reveal, much less accuse
Gerrard to be the father of his own.

I'll rather silent die, that thou may'st live
To see thy little offspring grow and thrive.-

VIOLANTA is attended in Childbed by her mother ANGELINA,

Viol. Mother, I'd not offend you; might not Gerrard Steal in and see me in the evening?

Angel. Well,

Bid him do so.

Viol. Heaven's blessing on your heart. Do ye not call child-bearing travel, mother? Angel. Yes.

Viol. It well may be. The bare-foot traveller That's born a prince, and walks his pilgrimage, Whose tender feet kiss the remorseless stones

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